#which might have saved her but also got her into the mess of her lifetime | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

valorkook · 4 years ago

Text

The Story of Us | j.jk

pairings: jeon jungkook x fem!reader (ft. kim taehyung near the ending)

type/warning: little fluff i guess, angst, requited to unrequited love, reincarnation AU, soulmates!AU, solo idol!AU, accidental death (overdose), mention of magic/witchcraft, incorrect depiction of history stuff

word count: 11.6k (my longest fic yet)

summary: If there was one thing you could learn from the existence of soulmates in the world is that it is dependent on the way you let your life unravel based upon the decisions you make: Whether you choose to fall once again into the scheme of destiny dictated by the heavens above or you learn from your past life and decide to let go.

Year 18XX

Soulmates. Many children have been read by their parents or guardians the story of the first-recorded couple who told the rest of the world how we are predestined to be with someone not only in just one lifetime, but also in the next lifetime. The concept of soulmates was merely just a story people mockingly believed in until it happens to them; to your parents, and to you.

Back when you were a child, being tucked at night by your mother you were excited to hear how she and your father met and knew they were bound for each other through every lifetimes they will have in the future, however she explained to you that though they are going to meet each other when they are reborn does not guarantee that you will be their child again.

You remember that was your first heartbreak. Wanting to curse whoever started the soulmate connection but it will only render you to be spanked in the butt, and as an 8-year-old child you don’t want to experience that kind of pain before you sleep. The only way you can express your anger and sadness was to pout, tears from your eyes threatening to spill as your mother coddled you to sleep that night.

Regardless, she assured you and your little mind that while they might be gone from your life when you reincarnated, your soulmate from the past will stand next to you. You and your significant other will retain the same name and the same memories once you encounter them again, and you will continue to save your memories with them throughout the next lifetime. That little knowledge you learned magically helped you sleep comfortably apart from being in the loving arms of your mother.

It was essential to remember that night, within your dreams you walked a familiar path in Kang's manor and deep in their magnificent garden was where you found him; Doe eyes staring back at yours, and it appears that you nearly have the same height as him as both of you were still young. The most important thing you kept in your mind when you woke up from that dream was how he looked, and exactly the location of where to find him that day.

The Kang’s estate is one of the largest houses you visited countlessly in the village, apart from your own house with your parents. The status of being the only daughter in the family made you become close with Kang Kyungmi, who has the same age as you. You two have partaken on multiple play dates and tea parties conducted by your parents as a scapegoat for them to mingle and gossip at the stone patio overlooking the Kang’s intricate hedge labyrinth and garden. There have been times where you lost your way out inside the high bushes parting into pathways and Kyungmi, bestowed with a sense of direction and intelligence at a young age, always knows where to find you before the night comes. You were deathly afraid of the dark back then.

You have another objective related to finding your soulmate as you begged your parents to visit Kyungmi the next day after the dream occured. And while the carriage being carried by the horses take their time to travel towards their manor, in the back of your mind you have already planned the pathways of the maze, hopefully be able to check its crevices and corners to find him. You can’t divulge the information to your parents that you have seen your soulmate’s face until you can prove it with your own two eyes.

Hurried greetings were given upon entry to the gates by you before you sped over at the back of their huge house, no more than two minutes and you found yourself standing at the entrance of the maze. You don’t care that your dress, albeit being immaculate white since it was purchased four days ago, gets dirtied with the soil once you entered their garden. What was once a clear sky before you left your home now turns out to be dimmed and cloudy, as if nature's provoking you to find him before the rain pours. Nevertheless you gladly took the challenge as you began to thread the high bushes and find a pathway connected to other areas of the maze.

“Doe eyes,” was only what you could mutter as you turned every corner until you saw the same angle of the tree branches peeking just above the hedges in your dreams, except there was not a single person whose innocent eyes you memorized appeared at the same spot.

“Have you lost your way out?” someone meekly asked you from behind.

The moment you have your eyes on his, you are helpless. So to say.

He was the most handsome boy you have ever seen in your life, and you feel your heart beating faster against your chest and your hands yearning to hold his. You were speechless when you saw his face, the exact eyes that have been stuck in your dreams were now real and in front of you. While your parents hoped for your soulmate to have the same social status as yours, you didn’t mind when his appearance said otherwise. He was no noble, you figured, but you were sure your parents cannot protest against the soulmate connection made by the heavens above for you and him.

You never dare to forget his name when you make your journey back home once the night falls. Though you two didn’t spend enough time to talk and get to know each other, you were already planning to know all of him in this lifetime.

His name is Jeon Jungkook, the youngest son of his family who has been loyal in their service to the Kang’s family for decades. More than that, they are residing in the same manor as Kyungmi so you would always know where to find him easily. No longer will you attempt to roam the whole country, looking for your soulmate since you are blessed by the heavens above that you already met him. Indeed there was no verbal indication that the two of you were destined for each other, but deep inside there is this mutual feeling that speaks for both of you. Some kind of divine intervention that cannot be proven by science.

Your parents found it odd that they have been frequenting the Kang’s family in the coming years, and yet they never questioned it. It only made them happy to see your budding friendship with Kyungmi and the boy whose family works for Kyungmi’s parents. You three were inseparable since Kyungmi observed how you became close to Jungkook. Moreover, you have introduced him as your soulmate, to which she enthusiastically celebrated by requesting for his mother, Mrs. Jeon, to bake a cake instantly that day. Thus, her blabbering got the attention of nearly all the workers in the manor and her parents as well as yours, and his.

Your parents were surprised when they were able to piece together the reason for visiting the Kang’s. Finding out that It was more than just you creating a long-lasting friendship with Kyungmi. Nonetheless, they support your happiness as much as Kyungmi’s parents support hers. Granted, they were far from other noble families who seek to elevate their status and advertising their own children in marriage as a way of merging businesses.

In the perspective of the Jeon family, with their youngest son whose soulmate is the daughter of an affluent family in the village, they sighed in relief from worrying about Jungkook’s future as a menial laborer. As much as their predecessors have been loyal to the Kang’s family, they hoped that their sons would find a way to grow outside of the manor and pursue their aspirations beyond the village. While Junghyun’s planning his future outside the service they provide to the Kang’s family, Jungkook however was focused to alleviate the workload of his parents during that time. With you as their son’s soulmate, they see a bright future for Jungkook to care and provide for you, transcending through every lifetime you will spend together.

From that moment, while his parents continue to do the same chores within Kang's manor Jungkook was already given the liberty to choose whether to stay at Park’s manor, which is your family’s, or to stay. He was not required to be of service for the Kang’s anymore but due to his compassion towards his parents, he continues to do so. Not only that, his family is well-received by both powerful families and were gifted with various items; his favorite shirt which was dull in color was then replaced with a more vibrant cream color, and he was required to own a few suits whenever the families host dinner parties. It was typical for Jungkook to always escort you to every party, even if it’s held at Kyungmi’s house or yours, but he didn’t mind one bit as long as he has you close to him.

You feel loved whenever you feel his eyes on you as the years go by. The talks you two shared were delightful, you admit. Though nothing compares to the lingering stares and the kisses you two have shared under the same moonlight when both of you reached the age of 13. His soft lips against yours always leave you defenseless, that only led him to give you more until your lipstick’s a mess. Even if it was a mere peck, an innocent kiss shared between the two of you, both you and Jungkook were still reprimanded by your respective parents. Though neither of you didn’t expressed any regrets after being caught, you two still kept to your parents’ word to wait for the right time, such as marriage.

It was when you’re 14 years old that he planned to take you out into the townsquare, just the two of you as you roamed the festivities prepared and held by the townspeople annually. The two young couple, soulmates if you’d prefer, grabbed the attention of some villagers and made them coo at the demure young love you two emitted. Furthermore, he let you know that to make this date be affordable, he started working at the nearby bakery months ago in order to earn money to spend for tonight. Even when both of you knew that you can afford everything the market has to offer that night.

“Just let me spend my hard earned money for you, ______.” Jungkook whined adorably while you only pinched his cheeks in response. He never missed to treat you like a princess worthy of the world has to offer every time when you realize that he, too, deserves to be treated as a prince if you were to be his one and only princess.

The summer when you were 15, and him approaching the age of 16, he agreed to your suggestion to stay with you and your family for the whole season. And while he is assured by your parents to treat it as a vacation with your family, he still insists on doing the chores he used to do before despite your protest. Although not for long, you learned to do the same tasks he performed and was able to independently bake cupcakes without burning them and leave your room clean every morning, which left your maids to scratch their heads on what to touch after considering that your trinkets are no longer littered on the floor anymore.

The garden in your backyard was something that can’t be bragged about without being compared to Kyungmi’s, but Jungkook kissed your worries away when the open field offered the opportunity to teach you how to ride a horse, choosing Nora. The white horse had been spontaneously named by your mother as a present from your parents on your 3rd birthday. You feel his clothed chest on your back as he guided your hands in manipulating the rope in front of you.

There are other days where you were calmly reading with him in the small library located in the east wing of the mansion, getting used to the domesticity of the quiet activity you two chose to spend the rest of the day with. Unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong book to read when his eyes stumbled upon hifalutin words that are rarely used in everyday conversations.

He scooted over to the sofa you’re currently occupying, noticed how his right hand is free from clutching the book and found your left hand. Interlacing your fingers together before asking you the meaning of the difficult words. You gladly taught him the whole afternoon with new words, though it didn’t last long when he returned the book back to its proper shelf and insisted for you to read him the romantic fiction upon your hands until the sun goes down.

Summer comes and goes so fast when the night turns colder and he is on a carriage back to his family. You silently cried that night in your bed when he went away, never knowing Jungkook equally feels the same way during that ride. While you wiped your tears from the linens on the side of your bed you felt the crinkling of paper buried beneath the blanket, digging your left hand beneath as the smooth edges of a folded paper met your fingertips.

Dear ______,

I know that by the time you read this, I am already on my way back to family. Though I wish to experience more seasons than just summer with you, we still have to wait for time to take its course. If there is one thing I regret while spending my summer days with you, it is only when I did not summon enough courage to say that I love you.

I love you, ______, and I am sorry that I would have to leave you for now. But if you are willing to wait as I am, do expect the next time we meet that I will say those three words without any fear holding me back. Please do not be saddened by my absence as I’ll make an effort to become an educated man worthy to stand by your side. I will be eternally grateful for your parents and Kyungmi’s for giving me an opportunity to pursue my studies out of kindness; they say it is never too late for me to fulfill my education like any other noble children have the privilege to do. Even so, none of these would not happen if I never became your soulmate in the first place.

I thanked the heavens for leading me to you, you did not make me feel like a nuisance even before you knew I was the one for you. Perhaps it was fate that led me to follow you inside the garden when I overheard that you have the tendency to lose your way out of the labyrinth. Now, with how our story unravels I feel undeserving of having the privilege to be your soulmate, but I know you will say otherwise.

It will be hard for us to be away from each other for awhile, but I hope that my love for you makes you grow fonder of my presence even if we are apart. My heart belongs to you and you only, no one else’s. I hope I have captured your heart by the end of this summer. I look forward to the next moment we will meet, and in the next years to come where I will be allowed to spend the rest of seasons in this lifetime as your loving husband.

I will patiently wait for a letter if you ever have the chance to write to me at your earliest convenience. Again, I miss you and I love you ______.

Sincerely,

Jeon Jungkook

The tears continued to pour from your eyes though it never wetted the paper, you cherished the words he had written to you too much to even smudge the ink embedded in the fibers. The letter, while made you cry, also brought comfort that he has you in his mind even after he leaves the manor that housed him for the summer. Although it is unfair for you to be a mess after reading the letter, you were somewhat grateful that Jungkook was able to express that your love is reciprocated. This was better than him leaving without leaving these words of consolation at all.

You securely folded the letter again and kept it safe from being touched by your maids as you put it inside a drawer on your nightstand, secured with a key hidden in a place you only know. From that night, you planned to write a letter back as soon as possible before the school starts again.

Gone are the days when Jungkook sends you a letter along with a flower or two for when you feel like at your worst, it is only reduced to a piece of paper since floral shops are closed for the time being during winter season and he only has a few money remaining as he’s discouraged to work when school began. More than that, you received a letter also from Kyungmi who cannot wait to spend Thanksgiving hosted by your family real soon. She further explained that she has no one to talk to while being homeschooled except Jungkook whenever he had the chance to visit the manor on weekends, considering that he is currently attending a boarding school exclusively for male students. Whenever he was unable to mail you his letter every week, you have Kyungmi to write to and visit every now and then.

Without Jungkook, you and Kyungmi were at an age where you confide in each other related to trivial things that might trouble your minds as you two approach the time where girls like you are expected to marry. There might be others who wanted to explore the world using their father’s money, perhaps learn a thing or two relating to the business established by their kin. But you have met your soulmate early and never desired to do these contrarian ways nor wish to live without him until you feel you are ready for marriage. Kyungmi, however, cannot relate to what you have right now.

“I found out that I am adopted,” she told you one day while the two of you are busy painting the canvases in front of you, “and they say that I should’ve found my soulmate three years ago. Lucky for you, you found Jungkook at an earlier age than expected.”

You dropped the brush on your hand, losing interest in the current activity as you worriedly looked at her who seems to be in near tears, “Perhaps it is not too late, you know. There has been news outside the village that they found their soulmate even when they are 20 years or older.”

“I’m not willing to wait that long, other girls at the same town as ours will speak ill of me.” Kyungmi expressed, “How I am unworthy to be the daughter of my parents or how I deserve to not have a soulmate--”

You tried to empathize with her, “Do not think of what they say, they are just jealous of how the heavens granted you your parents. Do not also lose hope about your soulmate,they will come to you someday. There’s nothing wrong with waiting.” you caressed her long hair in comfort before hugging her.

“Is Kyungmi okay?” You gasped when you heard his voice from behind. Not long and you felt his arms around you and Kyungmi. It feels like you two were the same children who are inseparable for the longest time every time you visit their manor.

“Just some mean kids, Jungkook.” You explained simply while you feel his chin against your head, it’s shocking that he started to outgrow your height as expected for him as a 15 years old.

“Tell me their names and I’ll--”

“You can’t beat up girls,” Kyungmi muttered.

He paused, “I’ll give them a word of warning then.”

You three made light of the situation by laughing, never knowing how it also affects the reputation of the Kang’s among their influential peers not only within the village but also outside of it. The Kang’s family let the fools criticize their family for a while, hoping for them to exhaust themselves and make their mouths dry from speaking but somehow it did not cease even after the Thanksgiving celebration.

And Mr. Kang knew what he had to do, all in the sake of his daughter’s happiness.

“Your daughter’s the talk of the town if I’m not wrong, Daeshim.” the raspy voice of Miss Bonhwa interrupted his eyes from scanning the whole bungalow where she lives. To others, she is just a lowly villager who creates and supplies herbal medicine to nearby infirmaries, but to him she is more than just a simple lady living in solitude. If only the people have a clue about the medicines they intake are laced with a little bit of magic.

She is a witch, eternal youth bestowed upon every inch of her melanin-rich skin as he observed that Bonhwa hadn’t aged at all; not a single wrinkle can be spotted at the corner of her eyes or her mouth. He knew of her long before he met his wife as an adventurous kid in the outskirts of the village back then. It is not that they have an affair or so, but she has something that bound them for the next lifetimes. Though it is important for him to note to himself to redo the same thing over again once he is reborn to a new life and found his soulmate again; his wife.

She further prodded, “And you are not warranted to visit again, as I told you I will see you in the next lifetime.”

“I did not come here for myself, my wife and I are still happily married.” Kang Daeshim explained. Admittedly, he and his wife were surprisingly not soulmates. However, they are not bound to anyone else after years of attempting to search for their destined significant other. Soon enough at the age of 25, they found each other and were willing to build a special relationship that the village seemed to disapprove of as they are going against the very nature of the soulmate connection in the world.

Bonhwa hummed, “for Kyungmi, then. Who do you plan to bound her to? A rich noble named Kim Taehyung--”

“Rich, noble boys only care for themselves,” he scoffed, “my daughter deserves to be treated better, someone who will see her as a royalty rather than a property they can abuse to their heart’s content.”

Her mind-reading capabilities did not fail her to see the ideal candidate for Kyungmi inside Mr. Kang’s head. “I expect that you’ll bring him here the next fortnight, as well as enough sacks of gold for this to happen exactly as you wish.” and with one blink, Mr. Kang found himself standing in front of his carriage ready to travel back to his manor with his wife and daughter, as well as her future in-laws residing with them for years.

It was at the age of 16 where you are about to finish your education, expected to learn the footsteps your parents made to establish the winery they wanted in the abundant field behind where your house stood. A few trees might be needed to be taken down from the forest at the far back of the property, to pave way for the seeds of grapes to be planted and fermented in the near future.

Your father’s trip to Spain made no exception for him to not explore the wineries and the abundance of fragrant wine it has to offer. Thus it inspired him and his wife, your dear mother, to invest enough money to create their own until they retire. Soon, they saw you being born as their child and molding you ready to take over the new family business. Yes, you were still young but you presented a sense of maturity that other primadonnas in their noble family lacked.

You received far much better education compared to other ladies of your own age, even Kang Kyungmi was only able to receive enough education proper for ladies to act based upon society’s expectation as they are assumed to be taken care of by their future husbands. Being privately taught by unconventional school subjects for girls gave you an opportunity in which you can stand equally next to your future husband and soulmate, Jeon Jungkook.

Though strangely, the letters he wrote to you each week had begun to cease. It seemed to be much worse as compared to when he is busy in his studies, attempting to catch up at the lessons he lacked as a child and continues to prove his peers wrong by excelling much better than them. It was amazing to read of his adventures as he writes it in the past letters, but now you are longing for him and his words of comfort and full of love. How can he spend a week long without communicating with you? It was agonizing for you to be apart from him now that you have been expecting him to ask for your hand in marriage, yet he hadn’t tried to ask for your parent’s blessing before this year ends.

Moreover, Kyungmi hasn’t been responding to the letters you sent a long ago. For sure they have been back from the vacation they announced a month ago, included in their plans to stay out of town for a short time was that the Jeon family comes along with them. Though you figured that it is not anticipated for them to ask permission from you, it might be just nice to be reminded by your soulmate that they are taking a vacation without you. . . as if they were just one family. Even so, not a single note arrived upon your doorstep when they left.

You admit to yourself, there’s a lingering jealousy whenever Kyungmi and Jungkook are together without you. In the past, you dismissed such feelings as they are childhood friends first before you came into the scene as his soulmate. Although this time, you grew worried that something’s not in the right place anymore. It feels as if you were drifting apart.

Little did you know your parents already knew of what had transpired; manipulated by their very own close friend before they left for their trip out of town. They don’t know how to break the news to you when you are so helplessly in love with your soulmate even when they observed how less frequently the mailman dropped by their estate to deliver enveloped letters that were supposedly from Jungkook.

It was also at the age of 16 where you received your second heartbreak.

The reason you were able to curse the pouring sky on an evening night was when Kyungmi and Jungkook’s engagement was announced during a celebration held in their manor. Though your parents attempted to stop you from attending the party, you were too stubborn and managed to escape their grasp when you rode the same horse, Nora, that you learned to travel with in that summer with him.

Yet he was far from your sight when you entered their estate, your hair disheveled from the harsh winds that came along with the hurried gallops of Nora. You cannot contain your gasp when you see their hands interlaced, with hers adorned with a large diamond ring that you learned back then was a heirloom from Kyungmi’s grandfather.

Only then did the nearby attendees take notice of your state, some of them who suspect that you and Jungkook were soulmates based on the times you roamed the street whenever the village held a holiday to celebrate by all. The murmurs widened like a ripple of water towards the grand staircase where the two families of the manor stood. It was not long until you captured his doe eyes, swimming with guilt as he moved his foot from where he stood.

“Don’t attempt to chase her, son,” Mr. Kang gritted, appearing to be embarrassed yet angry at how the nosey crowd got ahold of the real truth. “Remember your duty to this family, to Kyungmi, and most importantly for your parents and brother.”

You were far too embarrassed to make a scene with the villagers as your audience, the only thing you could do was to run away from their sight. Much like the first time he cannot find the strength to confront you of his feelings for him, you did the same thing when you did not wait for the rain to stop to travel back to your parents’ manor with Nora.

“______.” You heard your mother calling for your attention when you entered the gates, eyes laced with worry while yours were filled with tears that seemed to be covered by the raindrops currently pouring.

Your chest was heaving and with a shaking voice did you ask, “How long have you known?” a thick blanket was then placed around your freezing body as she, with the help of your maids, led you towards the fireplace while the others were busy to fix a warm bath and retrieve a new dress for the daughter of the Park estate.

Your father was the one who replied to your question, “It was only when they left out of town a month ago, though the Kang family sent a letter of apology for-- well--,”

“For stealing my soulmate, what a fucking delight.” you managed to scoff, your mother beside you was about to reprimand your language but was interrupted by the deep chuckle of her spouse.

“Let her be, darling. She is entitled to feel angry about it.” Your father told your mother regarding your fuming behavior.

Then realization dawned upon you before you were urged to take your bath, “Why did they take him away from me? Why did he not fight for me? Am I unworthy to be considered as his soulmate?” You sobbed, what would you become when a person who was supposedly destined to you did not choose to be with you.

Your tears continue to pour as you feel your father’s hand on the side of your head, inviting you to lean on his shoulders as you cry your heart, longing for Jungkook that night. You deserve at least an explanation from him as to why he changed his mind, his plans to marry you and proceeded to choose someone else to spend his life with.

“None of this is your fault, remember that ______. They are only selfish and cruel to take advantage of you and your soulmate.” Your mother stroked your hair, “For now, let’s clean you up before you fall ill from being in the rain for so long.”

For days you remained silent and opting to be left alone most of the time, you barely did the activities that reminded you of him. To the point where you neglect to look after Nora, now she’s more than just a means of transporting materials for construction of the winery. You refused to touch the books you read to him, nor did you attempt to sit at the same couch where the two of you spent the majority of your time in each other’s presence. Your mother takes notice of your melancholic state as she always has a clue on what to manipulate in the very estate she designed before you were born.

With a flick of her fingers, the couch was out of your sight and was burned with smoke reaching the sky and can be seen from the windows in your bedroom. Albeit unusual to burn the furniture when it could’ve been donated in an orphanage in the village, you did not find enough care to make that remark as you lay in your unruly bed all day until the supper was made. It took a week for you to receive a letter you desire yet despise at the same time, you knew who the letter came from just from seeing the color of the parchment.

After picking up the letter, you ran towards your room and locked yourself inside before finding the courage to open it. You cannot prevent the tears from spilling your eyes before you even try to read the contents.

Dear ______,

First and foremost, I sincerely wanted to ask for forgiveness. Though I cannot explain that much why I agree for this to happen, and all I could ever offer you is an apology for betraying you like this. It may seem that I did not care about you all this time, but that is far from the truth.

Please believe me that I still love you,

You quickly crumpled the paper as you read the same words that always left your heart defenseless, no matter how broken it is as of this moment. Yet an idea passed your mind as you were about to gather the letters he wrote for you from the drawer, which will add onto the fire currently consuming the couch outside. Your feet padded out of your room and towards the staircase when you heard the voices of your parents upon the door left ajar in your father’s study.

“You mean ______’s soulmate was coerced to sign the vow from Bonhwa?” Your mother’s hushed voice asked her spouse.

Your father nodded, “Who else could Kang go to when he did the same thing to his own wife, though she also had no soulmate when they met. Bonhwa’s herbal medicine is merely a curtain for her to practice witchcraft, she seems to be an expert on how to play the fate of soulmates whenever she’s given a chance.”

“How is she not driven from the village, then?” Your shaky voice reached the ears of your parents when you made your presence known by the door. Their horrified faces knew how the truth would unfold for you, and they cannot foresee what you’re already planning inside your mind.

“She is a powerful witch, Bonhwa. And the people will not deny her prowess in creating potions that could cure, thus saving our village from deadly diseases that affected other towns nearby,” Your father explained simply.

The question your parents dreaded to answer truthfully was the next thing that came out from your mouth, “What is the vow you’re speaking of?”

Your parents turned to each other, planning on how to break the truth slowly, your mother started, “I don’t know exactly the name of the vow given by her, but it is powerful enough to make a person you choose to become your soulmate, even if they weren’t destined for you to begin with.”

The letters you’re currently holding in your hands began to tighten, “Where to find her--”

“I forbid you to seek this witch, ______.” your father was quick to interrupt, standing up from his chair as he approached you, “We can find someone else for you,”

“I just want my soulmate back, father.” You sobbed into your occupied hands, thoroughly wetting the letters and the ink of promises Jungkook has written.

Your father sighed, holding your hands together, “Believe me when I tell you that Bonhwa cannot undo what she has casted, dear. As I heard from Kang Daeshim, it is permanent.”

Your thoughts loomed over your head as you burned the letters one by one, the casted fire illuminated the area as the sun went down deep from the forest. The area where the fire has been burning made it easy for some of the village people to question what was happening in the Park’s estate when they see smoke kissing the sky during the day. Especially the person you longed to love and hate at the same time was able to see you from afar as he sat upon the branch of the tree near the entrance of the property, finding you burning the letters he made for you.

Jungkook, while having the freedom to act like a noble within Kang’s manor, is still willing to perform tasks that Mr. Kang wanted him to do. Instead of running errands, he was rather forced to spend his time with Kyungmi more. Unlike you, Kyungmi insists on doing activities that taught him how to act like a proper royalty who’s about to become an heir to a non-existent throne, but little did he know he was about to be given the chance to become an heir since Kyungmi established that she will not participate in their family business.

Everything about the mining sector of the industry bored her so much, instead she wanted to act as a perfect housewife and dream of building a family when she found someone to marry. Mr. Kang could not detest his daughter’s wishes, and resumed to find the perfect candidate to be her significant other. Kang Daeshim never misses the stare his daughter gives to Jungkook every now and then, it was the same eyes his wife would give him. In addition to seeing Kyungmi secretly liking your soulmate, an epiphany came over him when a night spent with Jungkook showed that he has the same fascination about the industry and the family business in general.

It was like hitting two birds with one stone.

Prior to being invited to join their vacation months ago, he was also invited to visit someone with Kyungmi’s father at a time close to midnight. The question Kang Daeshim dropped while they were on their way in the village made him ponder about his family, “How would you like to inherit the family business, perhaps bring your parents to comfort while no longer serving for us?”

Mr. Kang added, “I heard that your older brother’s planning to establish a restaurant, you can help him instantly. It’s not like the Park’s could give you money just because you are their daughter’s soulmate when they are busy doing their winery. Remember your responsibility to your own family, Jungkook. Family comes first.”

The last three words Mr. Kang spoke struck his mind, it is expected for soulmates to devote most of their time once they are joined in matrimony. However, it is not fair for him to lavish in the wealth while his family continues on with what life the heavens gave them. He wanted them to live the same life he experienced once he met you as his soulmate: no longer will her mother tire her hands and instead she will find the time to read the books she wanted to at any time of the day, no longer will her father work hard under the heat of the sun, tending to the stables and taking care of the lavished garden when he can help with the business.

The thought of becoming wealthy was a dream that became alive again, longing to build a big house made of stones and other materials to last for more than one generation of the Jeon family. He was eager to give his affirmation to be Kang Daeshim’s apprentice, but at what cost?

“Where are we going?” Jungkook softly interrogated the older man in front of him, his eyes looking for any answers in his stare.

“I’m about to give you the will to decide what happens next.” was all Mr. Kang could answer as the carriage came to a halt, right in front of Bonhwa’s bungalow.

When he returned that night, he couldn’t bear the guilt that he had done. More so when he has been persuaded strongly by the thought of his parents and his dear brother. He was enslaved to the fact that he could become the son his parents would’ve wished to have in this lifetime, in return he had to give up someone precious to his heart. You.

But then you recalled what Mr. Kang said to him after signing the vow, “Do whatever you want in your next life, I just want my daughter to be happy for once during this lifetime. This is just a small sacrifice on your part, and I’m sorry that it has to be like this.”

The only flaw that came with the vow was that it is only permanent in one lifetime, but not in the next. He just prayed to the heavens above to grant him a way back to you whenever he’s about to be reincarnated in the next lifetime.

I’m sorry, ______. Jungkook kept replaying in his mind when he found you at the evening party regarding the engagement. The word of apology, while being simple, holds a lot of unspoken emotions he felt as he attempted to visit your estate the days after the celebration. However, he was denied entry but rather was given a chance to write everything he wants to say to you into a letter. Probably the last letter he would have written and read by you. He was mistaken with what he had thought you would do as he saw you burning the letters he probably wrote to you into ashes.

You noticed that you and him were still the talk of the village a week after the incident where you found out that your soulmate was not yours anymore. But you didn’t come into the townsquare to ask them for their pity, you were there for your own personal reason.

It was explained to you that there was nothing that can undo the vow. Even so, no one told you that the witch can help you in other ways. Thus, you resorted to speaking to shop owners who are supplied by the witch--Lady Bonhwa’s herbal medicines. You did not like suffering from heartache all this time, when the diversional activities provided to you by your parents and your family’s servants remained futile to uplift your mood for the past few days. And now, you are determined to seek more information about this Bonhwa who can help you forget your feelings for your soul-- for him.

“All I have heard was that she lives on the outskirts, rarely goes into the village.” one person told you as he was busy wrapping up the vegetables he sold to his customers, “I think Mr. Ong might know where she lives as he is the one who delivers the bottles of medicine at the beginning of every month.”

You sighed, stubbornly thinking that you cannot wait for two weeks more to resolve this hurt, “Then where does Mr. Ong lives? Can I visit him?”

The person sighed before calling for his son inside his shop, “Please help Lady ______ towards Mr. Ong’s house--”

“Is a horse required to get to him as soon as possible?” You interrupted, eyes filled with determination.

“Bring a horse,” he muttered to you and to his son. Not long and you and him, whose name is Kim Namjoon, are one step closer to knowing where Lady Bonhwa resided.

Namjoon can’t help but prod a question, “Why are you desperate to see Lady Bonhwa?” followed by a noise made from his brown horse. Though his pet is no match to the height of the black horse you’re sitting on. It was your father’s.

“I think she has something I need to cure what I’m feeling right now.” You explained, and then added, “I’m pretty sure you have heard of what transpired between the two powerful families in this town.”

“I do,” Namjoon confirmed, “Have you acquired an unknown disease that Lady Bonhwa has the answer to resolve?”

You breathe out, “Yes, she probably has the answer I need.”

With his guidance, he informed you that you two have arrived to Mr. Ong’s abode. Vegetation surrounding his house as you see the familiar face of the man you saw in the newspaper years ago, it was now the man who delivers these herbal medicines from Bonhwa.

“What are you kids doing here, the sun is about to go down and it is dangerous for a lady like you to be out at this time of the hour.” Mr. Ong was quick to reprimanded your presence, knowing that you are the daughter of the Park’s family. You and Namjoon were quick to go down your horses.

“I’m here to ask directions to the wi--Lady Bonhwa’s house, I heard that you know where she resides.” You reasoned.

Mr. Ong looked scornful, “Why would you need Miss Bonhwa’s address? What’s your business with her?”

You stuttered, trying to find a clear reason for him to give you her address, but Namjoon was quick to answer for you, “She doesn’t feel so well, I think it is best for Bonhwa to see ______ herself for a proper inspection, and perhaps she’d be given a proper medicine for her condition.”

“Yes, yes. That.” You nodded with Namjoon’s statement.

The old man sighed, turning around and approaching the doorway to gather a piece of folded paper from inside his home, he indicated you to open your palms before placing the paper he had memorized from the countless times he delivered the same medicinal bottle he called a miracle. “This is the map to her house, though she is not expected to be back until tomorrow night. It is best to visit her the day after tomorrow so she can take a good look at you, Lady ______.”

You thank the old man, as well as Namjoon, while the two of you are on your way back to the populous area of the village before the sun fully sank into the horizon. Furthermore, Namjoon insisted to escort you back to the gates of your estate to ensure your safety as you’ve given him a little sack of gold for his service the whole afternoon. Though he wants to deny the gift, you insisted for him to keep it. “You can use the money however you’d like, it’s yours.” You told him before you entered your family’s property.

Truthfully, you haven’t been sleeping well these past few days after gaining the map from Mr. Ong. Not even the calming drink of tea could ever put you to sleep without waking up crying terribly in the middle of the night. In your dreams, you have always recalled the first time you met Jungkook. But then your imagination will slowly unravel to him letting go of your hand and opting to interlace his hands with Kyungmi’s. The once doe eyes that made your heart flutter resorted to look cold and void of any emotions for you. Prior to waking up, the last thing you have seen was them sharing a kiss at the end of the church’s altar. Causing you to soak your pillows with tears and clutching the center of your chest from the pain the nightmare put you into.

You dearly wished for the winery to finish their first fermentation of wine so you could drink yourself to sleep instead. Though it will guarantee you a smack on your head from your mother in the early morning.

Now, all you could do is to wait for the night to fall. Where you would sneak outside and begin making your way on the road to seek for the witch who can silent your heartache permanently, perhaps the magic she’ll be casting will stretch more than one lifetime of yours. The past nights where you can’t sleep were only utilized by you in memorizing every turn the horse would make when you are out there. Granted, you never know much about the roads, if the heightened bushes already rendered you brainless from knowing your way out of Kyungmi’s gar--

Wait. You should not even think about the damn garden next to their manor. You focused on yourself, trying to give enough talks to yourself that you can navigate the roads all by yourself with only the guidance of the map. Maybe your intuition and sense of direction, if you have any.

You were sure that your parents were busy supervising the operations of their winery tonight, and so you took advantage to sneak a horse from the stables and leave the vicinity of your estate when darkness started to consume the sky and the streetlights were kindled for safe traveling in the dark. As instructed in the map, you need to find the narrow road just near the center of the village as it provided a much precise direction compared to other main roads taken by merchants and travelers.

The clouds that simply loomed over the town began to rumble when you reached the populous area of the village, you kept your face hidden from the hooded cloak as you turned your horse towards the road less taken. Though at that moment the rain started to pour down, which leaves the people outside to find refuge in nearby shops leaving a few people who started to get soaked in the rain.

And one of those people is someone you despise to look at right now, but his doe eyes were persistent to look at your hooded figure even if the rain should make it harder for him to recognize you. The fact that his eyes were trying to get a hold of you only pushed you to pressure the horse into galloping instantly and create distance from him, hoping that he will never attempt to follow you. But the distressed sound of another horse from behind foiled your plans.

While the distance between you and him are currently rising, Jungkook was forced to make hurried steps to unlatch a horse from Kyungmi’s carriage. He turned deaf from the cries of his fiancé inside the vehicleas he tried to undo the straps, however it did not budge. So his next plan, albeit cruel, was to find another horse nearby. From where he stood, he sees Namjoon soaked in the rain and clutching onto the ropes attached to his brown horse as he silently offers Jungkook to use his pet as a means to follow you.

It took you thirty minutes to navigate the roads, even if the rain tried to obscure your vision. When you thought you could outrun him, he always seemed to catch up to your horse’s hurried pace. Of course, even after those years you spent to practice horseback riding, you could never beat your mentor who’s currently tailing your horse’s steps. Your best bet was to lose him through the thick trees beside the road, and so you directed your horse to enter the forest. It was further instructed in the map that Bonhwa’s bungalow was nestled into the forest rather than being out in the open at the side of the road. You only pray to the heavens that it was her place that you see kilometers away, or else you’ll be lost inside the woodland for the rest of the night.

You quickly hopped down from the saddle and hurriedly knocked at the door of the bungalow, and in just one blink you were standing in front of Miss Bonhwa, “What seems to be the hurry, Park ______?”

Knowing that you were running out of time, you ignored the query in your mind as to how she was able to figure out your full name, “It may seemed foolish for me to pray that you can undo a vow when I know the answer for that, but now I only request for something that could help me forget my feelings for my soulmate. Please, before he comes.”

She sighed, “Kind of tricky what you’ve wanted from me, but fear not that I have made something close to what you desire.” A pounding on her door stopped Bonhwa from approaching the cabinet full of bottles and jars filled with colorful concoction she made for the sake of gaining experience. “Shall I allow your former soulmate inside my humble abode?” she directly asked you.

You shook your head, internally blocking his voice from calling your name multiple times. A bottle was put in front of you on the wooden counter and she was about to talk, you were quick to uncork the bottle and started to drink its contents out of desperation and without prior instruction from the witch herself.

In the hazy mind of yours did you recall how frantic Bonhwa became, to the point where all the doors and windows turned unlocked while she placed her hands on her head. The next time your eyes fluttered, you see his face for the last time. Doe eyes with tears pouring past his cheeks as he has his arms around your back, trying to not let you fall to the floor.

“What did you do to her?!” You heard Jungkook shouted to Bonhwa as she was preoccupied to find whatever antidote that could save you from the overdose from the potion you drank.

“I did not predict that she would drink it in one go, only half a cup was already an effective dose to make her for--” she stopped when an epiphany came over him,

“Forget about me, isn’t it.” he managed to choke as he continued to witness the life in you withers away. His hand caressed your head before pulling your figure close to his chest, “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Try putting this in her mouth,” A small flask was handed over to him while he laid you down on the floor, prying your mouth open before spilling the translucent green liquid. Praying that you were able to ingest it before it’s all too late.

Bonhwa’s fingers were attempting to feel your pulse at the side of your neck, finding that supposedly throbbing artery became thready in every passing second. You were losing your life, but the last thing you remember before you succumb to sleep was how you felt nothing for Jungkook anymore as you gaze at his dreamlike face.

Year 20XX

Jeon Jungkook woke up with a gasp escaping his tired throat, his sweat seeping through his thin shirt as he recalled every detail in the nightmare he just had.

Or a dream, if he might even consider in his mind. Because you appeared in his visions, his real soulmate.

You were the most important thing he noted in his mind as he struggled to find his journal full of lyrics he wrote for his songs on his nightstand, trying to attempt to write your full name before he forgets it. But how could he ever think of forgetting your face when it has been you who inspired him to become a better man before he broke your heart and trust in his past life.

Now, his heart can be free from the chains that have weighed him down since he first found Kyungmi; or Kyungmi who managed to find him first in this current lifetime.

Finally, he has the answer to the questions his fans would ask him. Why didn’t he write any songs particularly about his soulmate when countless artists like him worldwide have done at least one or two songs, expressing their love for their soulmate? It is because he was never destined for her in the first place, the gods above last night already gave him a sign pertaining to his real soulmate. Yet it was his foolish decisions from his past lifetime that put him astray. Away from you.

Now, he suffers from the repercussions of the choices he made in the past life. He remembered you dying in his arms due to the heartbreak he had caused you. Stories say that a soulmate’s broken heart was the worst pain any person could ever experience in the world.

Jungkook’s regret was not saving you from your doom if only he had explained it to you in the first place, or that he never gave in to the manipulation of Mr. Kang. It was all his fault. Now, when remembering your face, especially the night in that bungalow managed to broke his heart oh so easily. Causing him to sob at his very own bed that morning while ignoring the sounds emitting from his phone nearby.

After pitying his past life’s decision yesterday morning, a sense of determination came over him as he created plans in an attempt to find you around the country. But how would he do that without including the nosey public media at his tail. Though it’s not likely for him to knock at every door available in Seoul when there is a possibility that you might be residing in another country. He cannot even develop a concrete plan of action when his mind is a mess, even so if he was already washed up and ready to go outside when he didn't even know where to begin with.

So he got rid of the jacket he wore and threw it back inside his closet, and opted to reach out for a pencil and a paper to start sketching your face. While he was not blessed to have any artistic skills from his past life, perhaps the gods above took pity and gave him one in this current lifetime as a way to find you. His musicality is an additional thing for him to consider as his job right now, a popular solo artist who’s about to break into the music industry in the west. Admittedly, he grew jealous of the love songs sung by other artists since he cannot find any inspiration to write one. Kyungmi didn’t give him enough reason to write one, but you however already inspired him to create meaningful lyrics while he was sketching your face.

Maybe he can post his drawing on his Instagram, letting his dedicated fans to work as FBI agents to seek for you. Wait. It didn’t cross his mind to search you in Naver and in other social media apps when he was about to delegate such a sensitive task to strangers. He was quick to toss the pencil on his desk as he reached for the phone left in his jean pocket. Noticing how Kyungmi has been trying to reach him since yesterday, he swiped clear of his notifications before pulling up Instagram and typing your name on the search bar. Park ______.

If he was still Jeon Jungkook, then you must still be named as Park ______.

To his dismay, a lot of people have the same name as you. In addition to his searches from other social media apps, your face was never used as a profile picture to make his search much easier. Damn, you’re a soulmate that’s harder to find. Yet his heart never ceased to lose hope as the mere sound of your name can make his heart flutter, imagine if he heard his name from your lips for a thousand years to come.

A knock on his front door interrupted him from being consumed on the device in his hands, his feet padding towards the entrance of his expensive apartment while he’s still preoccupied with searching your name.

“Jungkook, I’ve been calling and texting you for an hour. Why can’t you even answer it? A simple sentence like you’re preparing food would have sufficed,” Kyungmi whined as she welcomed herself into his home, “And now look at you, who can’t even look at his own soulmate or even greet her a kiss--”

“______’s my soulmate, not you.” He muttered, interrupting Kyungmi from her daily ranting. Though she was typically a blabbermouth and would keep on speaking, he finds it odd that her mouth halted from his statement. It made him avert his eyes from his phone to her, his eyes searching for answers upon hers when she frozen, sitting on his couch. “How long have you known?” he suspiciously asked.

Kyungmi only managed to stammer, “I-I didn’t know you would ever recall ______,”

“Why did you lie to me when you insist that I’m your soulmate?” he prodded further, angry at the fact that he is still being controlled by her and her past father with the vow that was supposedly expiring in this lifetime.

“Even if we weren’t originally soulmates, I fell for you,” Kyungmi fought back, with tears spilling from her eyes and ruining her mascara, “Is it bad to love someone like you, Jungkook? I thought we do not need that vow anymore since we are still bound to each other when we are reincarnated. And I didn’t know you would still remember ______.”

“Not if you know that they are already happily taken, Kyungmi!” He shouted, before raising his hands on his hair and gripping on it. “You know I was happy with ______, since we were children. At least you could have explained that to me when we met years ago.”

He breathed, sitting on the adjacent seat, “I need to find her. I’m sorry to do this right now but I want you to know that I still love her, Kyungmi.”

“More than you loved me?” She harmlessly asked a question both of them knew the answer to. She watched him stand up and disappear from his bedroom, only to appear back again looking like he’s ready to leave her alone in this apartment, the same place where she used to spend most of her free time bathing in the love Jungkook used to provide to her. Albeit, it never amounted to the way he used to love you before, but it was better than having nothing at all.

After all, she loves him more than he ever loved her and so she tells him, “I’ll help you find her.”

Jungkook paused from opening the door of his apartment, “Why would you do that when it will only hurt you?”

“Because I love you too much to see you suffer on your own, trying to seek for ______. This is the least I could do for you.” Kyungmi then stood from her seat and approached him at the foyer, managing to unhook the bucket hat hanging near the door and a reusable face mask. A celebrity disguise, “You need these first before you step out of this apartment. Where do you start looking for her? Do you have any idea what place?”

“I’m planning to seek the witch that made this change possible in the past.” he mumbled, “I’m sure we’re in the same country as Bonhwa.”

His instincts and vivid memory made Jungkook drive towards the outskirts of Seoul city . . . Call him crazy that he’s still expecting the same bungalow to appear even when they’re already in the 21st century, her name was enough for him to assume that the witch is a Korean citizen. Kyungmi, however, was clueless to the bungalow’s appearance and this so-called witch when in the past she had never visited her like her father does. To think that it was all her father’s scheme to lure Jungkook into becoming hers, when she’s already satisfied to see you and him together from afar.

She wasn’t the type of person to steal someone and defy the destiny that has already been written for them, though she can justify that she went along due to the fact that Jungkook chose her instead of you. But in this lifetime, he now chooses you more than ever. Wanting to fulfill the destiny, the future he promised to you that he was never given the chance to complete before.

A shabby bungalow then appeared right before her eyes, catching Jungkook’s attention. His foot immediately stepped on the brake to take a closer look. It’s not like there are cars behind him to take his time examining the house standing beside the road instead of being engulfed by the thick tree branches behind the property.

It took him a minute to find a parking space beside before stepping out of his car with Kyungmi, he then proceeded to knock on the door and patiently waited for someone from the inside to open it. “This place looks like before, though I haven’t visited her when there’s still daylight long ago.” he talked to himself, and perhaps to Kyungmi standing behind him who’s currently busy ridiculing the anterior of the bungalow. Both of them started to hear voices nearing the front of the door before it opened from the inside.

“______.” Kyungmi was the first one to call your name, but your eyes however focused upon the man blocking the doorway from the outside. Jungkook. He was surprised when he saw you right where he found you fighting for your life in the past. What were you doing here?

He cannot decipher what you were feeling when you see him again in a new life. He thought you were ecstatic to see him again, expecting for you to have the mutual feeling of wanting to redeem the love you have for each other as soulmates. Were you trying to find him also?

“What are you doing here, ______?” Jungkook managed to ask you, snapping you out from your thoughts as you never blinked since you saw his face today.

The way his name slipped your mouth made his heart flutter, like the way you first looked at him when you were 8-years-old inside the hedge labyrinth. It was his turn to seek for you, and now he had found you.

Yet your cold voice brought him back to reality, “None of your business.” It was easy for you to nudge his heart out to the side like it didn’t matter to you. Like he was not your soulmate to begin with, reminding him that it was too late for redemption.

“Can we talk,” He reached for your hand, feeling the surge of spark travelling through his arm when his skin made contact with yours, “please?”

“I spent many years waiting for you to find me and explain things, Jungkook. It seems that you’re here to redo the vows with Kyungmi, I have nothing to do in your life anymore.” You told him, yanking your arm from his grasp, “You can breathe easily now that I am no longer significant in your life.”

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, looking at the approaching vehicle from the road. “All I’m saying is, I am now allowing myself to move on from you. No longer will I allow the gods above to dictate who should I end up with when I can choose that person myself. Like you did.”

“But I’m here to fix everything, ______.” He reached to cup your face, forcing you to look at him, “I am not here to redo the vow but to break it, I thought that Bonhwa would give me a clue where to find you today. Instead, fate led me instantly to who I am looking for. You.”

“Tell me what can I do to fix this.” Jungkook begged you, tears blurring his vision when he didn’t notice that there was already someone behind him who’s waiting for you to come home with them.

“______.” Kim Taehyung called for your name, the person who you have chosen to love now. He might not be your soulmate, but he showed you the kind of love you missed from experiencing since you died early in your past life. Taehyung heard of who he is while he’s trying to mend your heart years ago, though he did not expect it was Jungkook you were talking about.

“Maybe in another lifetime, Jungkook. For now, let me love who I choose to love.” Your eyes can’t help but also teared up, seeing his face again. You were sure that your heart does not yearn for him anymore, voided of any lingering feelings for him. However, he still has an effect on you . . . sadly, it was not strong enough for you to consider being with him again, thinking that there might be a time in the future where he would walk out of your life again.

Jungkook was a fool, falling for a trick from the gods above. When they led him to you so easily, he never thought that they only led him to his heartbreak. If this is what you felt when you see him engaged to Kyungmi that particular night, then he must’ve deserved the pain and torment you have experienced while being apart from him after those events. “I want to fight for you, yet I don’t want to be a hindrance to you finding love in this lifetime. But I’m willing to wait for you, ______.” was all he could ever tell you before letting you go.

Kyungmi took a step forward, “I’m sorry, ______. For not fighting against my father’s plans back then.” You only nodded, accepting the apology that came out of her mouth before being guided by Taehyung towards their waiting vehicle at the side of the road.

Acting like his closest friend and not his soulmate, Kyungmi comforted Jungkook that day. Apart from that, they did not miss the opportunity while being in Bonhwa’s bungalow to break the vow and unleashed the chain that bound them together.

While she was off to find a new person who can potentially become her new soulmate, he was busy singing songs about you in a different context. Hoping to reclaim himself and hoped that his soulmate decided him to be worthy as your soulmate in the next life, just like the way destiny has written his unending love for his one and only soulmate.

You.

Thank you for reading! For more of my works: m.list

#bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader

368 notes · View notes

the7thcrow · 4 years ago

Text

indulgence | part one

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader series

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 4.9k

genre: forbidden love, angst (sorta), fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (kissing and a shirt comes off, nothing too crazy lmao), hook-ups (but nothing is explicitly described), strong language, and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first fic, so i’m sorry if it’s a little messy. this is part one of what will be a series. i’d love to hear some feedback, so don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or message! i hope you enjoy!

...

You are late. The pattering of rain echos from atop your umbrella, the puddles of pooling water soaking your loafers as you hurry along the busy street. However, you pay no mind as the liquid seeps into your shoes, mud embedding itself along your pant leg. On a normal day, you’d scowl. You’d curse the shitty weather, and grumble as you marched home to change into a dry pair of shoes. Only today is different. Today it doesn’t matter, not when you have far greater troubles warranting your concern.

The Council isn’t pleased. They’d be even more upset, if that were even possible, if you arrived tardy. You can imagine their old, petulant faces, looking down on you with disgust. Perhaps even pity, seeing you as nothing more than a childish young girl, who’d been foolish enough to break her vow. You frown to yourself, that’s all they would ever see you as. It didn’t matter how the years passed by, to them you were, and would always be simply that. A child. Always younger, always naive. Most of all, always beneath them.

The headquarters becomes visible in the distance, clouded in the slight haze of fog. It appears to be like any other building on the Hampden Campus. Old and rustic, elegant in the way it was shaped and carved, a relic of history reflected in a modern day era. Only this building holds a far different tale than those surrounding it.

Far more bloody. Far more gruesome. A home to monsters.

Monsters like yourself.

You knock on the door. Twice, slowly. Then a pause, before three times quickly. A code, letting anyone inside know that you are, in fact, a member of The Society.

The door opens with a creak, a young boy with electric blue hair peeking out through the crack. After recognizing your face, he smiles, ushering you in quickly as the door slams shut behind you.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, huh?” The boy says, casually leaning against the door. It has been a while, you never came to this god awful building unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I guess it has been. But it’s nice to see you too, Jeongin,” you speak warmly in return. You’ve known Jeongin for a couple years now, since he first arrived at The Society doorstep. Alone and confused. A freshling, having just been turned. While perhaps not physically, he’s certainly grown since then, in both confidence and courage.

Suddenly, the smile drops from his face, his expression becoming sullen. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble,” he states. When you don’t respond, he continues. “It’s not true, is it? I know you wouldn’t-”

“Listen, Jeongin,” you cut him off quickly. You aren’t in the mood to be lectured, especially not by someone whose opinion you actually care about. “I’m already running late. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”

“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you, but you’ve already disappeared down the hall, heading towards the council room. You quickly cast a glance at your watch. Shit, five minutes late. They wouldn’t forget that.

With only a quick breath to gather yourself, you burst in through the large wooden doors. The silence in the council room is deafening, as all heads turn to face you. In all your life, you’ve never seen so many dissatisfied faces.

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilman calls. He has an old face, embedded with wrinkles and a scalp of thinning white hair. Unlucky. He could have been beautiful, or at the very least, young. However, he must’ve been turned late. A pity, to stare at such a reflection for eternity.

You stifle a laugh. The frown he always appeared to be wearing probably wasn’t helping.

“Take a seat,” he states, motioning to the chair seated in the center of the room. How dramatic you think, to put you in the middle of so many staring eyes. While the council was only composed of three individuals, the room seems to be full of other lower ranked members of The Society.

As you take your seat, your gaze wanders the room, landing on a familiar head of shaggy brown hair. His eyes bore into your own, his expression serious. Perhaps even angry, the longer he stares at you.

You want to say something. Mostly, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here. This isn’t any of Chan’s business, yet for whatever reason he has the audacity to stare at you as if it is. As if you will grant him answers. As if he deserves answers.

“Ms. L/N,” the chairman interrupts your thoughts. “Do you know why you’re seated here today?”

Why are you seated here today? Well, that answer is complicated. How could you have possibly gotten yourself into such a mess? How could you have been so foolish? You knew the rules. You knew what was permitted and what was not. Yet, you chose to ignore these conditions.

Why? What could possibly have made you toss everything you’d promised to the side?

Well, that story starts with a head of bright blonde hair, and a set of curious eyes.

~~~~

The library of Hampden College had become something of a second home to you. Late nights spent bent over a book, transcribing various philosophies and literature into latin. Sometimes greek, however you didn’t have quite the same knack for it. That’s where you found yourself tonight, your beaten down copy of The Iliad staring back at you from its place on the table.

Your classics degree was coming along just fine. You didn’t mind the endless books to read and poems to analyze. Nor the papers you often found yourself crafting from this very spot in the corner of the library. It was always quiet, always solitary at this time. Even the night owl students having gathered their books, departing the library for a brief rest before their early classes the following morning.

Tonight however, was different. You heard the door creak open, glancing up as a boy appeared in the doorway. He had long blonde hair, fluffing at the nape of his neck. Sporting a sharp blazer and a pair of oxfords, you couldn’t deny he was well dressed. Perhaps that’s why he grabbed your attention immediately, you were attracted to effort. To someone who was put together, who cared.

The boy took a seat just a few tables away from your own, gently setting his books down and disappearing into the maze of shelves to your left. You attempted to go back to your work, but couldn’t seem to find your focus. Who was this boy? You’d never seen him before in all your time at Hampden. Also, why would he possibly be at the library so late? You recognized the faces of those who while rare, might possibly be here at this time of night. He wasn’t one of them.

You would remember if he was.

You strained your neck trying to find his figure, having lost him almost immediately.

“A fan of Homer?” A voice rang out from beside your ear. You jumped in shock, greeted by a sweet smile and wide eyes. The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You smiled sweetly, trying to calm your beating heart. “No worries. And well, you translate the entirety of Book Eight overnight into Greek, and tell me if you could still consider yourself a ‘fan of Homer.’”

The boy laughed before beginning to pull a chair out beside you. “May I?” He asked.

Looking back, you should have said no. You had a lot more work to do, and near no time to do it. Not to mention of course, rejecting him initially could have saved you from this whole mess. Instead you nodded, a grin forming at the corners of your lips as he sat down.

“What’s your name?” He asked. His voice was sweet, sultry. Alarming in just how deep it was, not quite fitting his bright and youthful exterior.

“Y/N, classics department. Yourself?”

“Felix,” he answered. There it was, the first time you heard the name that would cause your undoing. “I’m majoring in history. Listen,” he began, leaning in slightly closer as if he were going to tell you a secret, his voice lowering further. “I must say, I’m in here all the time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You hummed, leaning in closer to him as well. His eyes glinted. “Well that’s simple, I’m assuming you don’t frequent the library at-” you glanced at your watch- “2:32 in the morning.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with something like concern. “You’re here every night at this time? Why?”

“Hey,” you began, not wanting to lose the playful nature to the conversation. You’d heard enough concerned voices to last a lifetime already. “Aren’t you here this late yourself? You’re in no place to judge.”

He laughed, and you knew you could get used to that sound. “Fair enough, I’ll leave it be.”

“Why are you here this late, anyway?” You asked.

“Oh, so you get to know my secrets, but I can’t know yours?”

“Of course.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, resting his head on the desk, cradled by his crossed arms. “If you must know, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d read some of your classics, thought they might help me doze off.”

You shoved his arm, to which he feigned a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. “Excuse you,” you laughed. “I have a lot of Homer to struggle through, and no time for your cheap shots. You can go ahead and leave now.”

You were surprised when he got to his feet, worried for a moment he’d taken you seriously and was actually about to make his exit. Instead, he disappeared into the philosophy section, emerging with a copy of The Odyssey. Felix flopped down back in his chair beside you, extending his feet on top of the table and leaning backwards.

“Well, then I guess I’ll suffer along with you,” he said. Without another word, he flipped towards the first page.

Felix was a good person to study with. Well, technically you weren’t studying with him, but nonetheless it was nice to have him in the room. He didn’t bother you, didn’t speak, just let you do your work. Sometimes you’d look up and meet his gaze, his eyes imploring you. Curious. Mischievous.

Dangerous.

“Alright,” you yawned after an hour or so had passed by, stretching your arms high in the air. “I’m done.”

He smiled, slowly closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Yeah? Finally going to go home and sleep?”

“Sleep? What’s that?” You said, playfully scoffing. “Nah, it’s already past 3:30, it’ll be 4 by the time I get back to my apartment. Not worth it at this point.”

“Hmm,” Felix hummed, a flicker of mischief in his growing smile. “What ever will you do to pass the time?”

“I don’t know,” you returned, excitement building in your chest. “But I suppose I’ll leave you now. You still have about 3 quarters of The Odyssey to get through, and I don’t want to tear you away from-”

You shouldn’t have been surprised when his lips crashed into yours, but you were. You let out a small “mff” against the sudden impact. It took your brain a second to catch up to speed on what was happening. Here you were, with this incredibly beautiful boy of whom you literally just met, kissing in the middle of the library.

Your second thought was about how you’d never done this before. Not kissing someone, hell you’d done a lot more than just that. But never a stranger, and certainly never a human, for that matter. You had to be careful with who you got close to, you never knew who could be dangerous, who could be a hunter. Besides, The Society had rules, and this alone was undoubtedly breaking a few of them.

So what the hell were you doing?

You should stop this, you thought. But the more you settled into a rhythm, the more your worries trailed from your mind. Felix was a good kisser. A really good kisser. His lips were soft, warm, his breath sharp with the taste of mint. When the dork had a chance to pop a tic tac you didn’t know, but it made you smile against him.

You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning into him. He groaned in response, moving his hands down your figure, settling in on your waist. Carefully he began to fiddle with the buttons at the bottom of your blouse, and with that it all suddenly became real.

“We can’t do this,” you breathed, finally breaking away from him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I went too far, I-” he began to apologize, frantically removing his hands from your body and shifting backwards into his chair.

“No,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his sweetness. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him closer to you. “We can’t do this here.”

The Society had rules, plenty. Human’s, in any sort of relationship, were out of the question. Public displays of affection with even your own kind, especially of the more vulgar sort, were off limits as well. The idea was to not bring attention to yourselves, to not cause a scene. And if you were going to break one of these rules so terribly, you figured you could at least pay the respect to do so privately.

“Okay,” he mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. “Where should we go?”

“My place? It’s a little far from here, but I don’t have any roommates. So..”

Felix smiled, planting a soft, lingering kiss at the nape of your neck. “Lead the way.”

~~~~

The walk over to your apartment wasn’t awkward per say, it was simply...charged. Felix had his arm looped around your own, making your way silently down the dark, lantern lit path through campus. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, a desire thrumming down inside you, resurfacing. It had been a long time since you’d last been with someone. That last person being Chan, your ex as of eight months ago.

Things had been good with Chan. Great even, in the beginning at least. He was intense, thoughtful. He loved you deeply. Most of all, Chan understood. Like you, he was a member of The Society. He was under every restriction you were, and felt all the same frustrations.

Of course, not all good things can last. Eventually your relationship began to sour. Your arguments became full on brawls. Your differences and quirks became unbearable. You couldn’t be in the same room without being at one another's throats. You were the one who finally decided to end things.

Chan was the only man you’d ever loved, and since him you’d never entertained the thought of being with another. Until now, that is. You glanced towards Felix, who was staring ahead down the street, his eyes dark. You could feel his own desire radiating off of him, visible in the way he slowly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Besides, Felix could give you something more. Something Chan could never.

No. You stopped yourself. That wouldn’t be happening tonight. It would only make things more complicated, more dangerous. Still, you could feel it deep inside you, pounding for control. That familiar, incessant hunger. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it was there. Becoming stronger as your ears focused in on Felix’s heart beat, the sound of blood pumping through his veins.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the sight of your apartment complex appeared in front of you. Quietly you entered, making your way up the stairs and towards your own door. Releasing your arm from Felix’s, you fumbled for your keys in your purse. Giving him a small smile, you twisted your key in the lock, and allowed him inside.

The moment you closed your apartment door, all bets were off. Felix tossed his books onto your kitchen table, clashing into you with a speed that almost made you lose your own breath. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Felix’s lips devouring your own. Desperate and wanting.

He quickly revisited the buttons of your blouse, this time starting at the top and beginning to make his way down. All the meanwhile his lips traced your neck, gently brushing against your skin. With every new kiss fueling your own desire, you slowly began to rock your hips into his own. This was escalating. Fast. As he finished with the last button, he allowed your blouse to drop from your shoulders, smiling to himself as he took you in.

“Your turn,” you breathed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as a signal to take it off. He did so, absent-mindedly tossing it aside into your living room. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, staring deeply into your eyes. Then he proceeded to say the very last thing you ever expected him to:

“Look at your eyes… You haven’t fed in weeks, have you?”

You slapped his hand away and shoved him off of you, rushing to the otherside of the room, putting the coffee table between yourselves. “How-How do you?” You stammered, physically unable to form a complete sentence. How could he possibly know what you were? How did he even know you existed?

Felix’s eyes widened, clearly shocked by your reaction. “No, no. Don’t worry!” He said frantically, outstretching his hand to you. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, disbelievingly. “Yeah? And how do I know that?” You let this man into your home, your safe space. How could you have been so stupid?

“Look, I grew up around Vampires okay? My neighbors, back in my childhood home, they were like you. I know the signs. I know how your eyes blow out when you’re hungry, the way they glaze over when you haven’t fed in a while. That’s it. I didn’t even realize until I got a good look at you, back when you were translating. It’s no big deal, really.”

You scoffed. No big deal? Felix didn’t seem to realize just how big of a deal it actually was. Humans weren’t supposed to know what you were, certainly not at Hampden. The Society had made well sure of that. God, if The Council saw you now...

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have told you back at the library. I honestly didn’t think it would freak you out this much. That’s on me,” he said, inching slightly closer to you. Despite yourself, you didn’t move away. “I’m serious though, it’s been a while since you last fed. Hasn’t it?”

A while was an understatement. The Society had been going through a shortage of blood bags, after having severed their connections with one of the nearby hospitals. Meaning if you wanted to drink, it would have to be from one of their Certified Donors. Which was another, fancier and far more innocent way of saying prisoners. These were humans who had given their lives to The Society, some willingly and others not so much.

You didn’t like going to their quarters. Located in the basement of the main district, it was always quiet down there. Always solemn. You’d never been to a place lacking so much hope. You’d only gone once, and drinking from that man still haunts you to this day. The way he didn’t move or speak, or even wince when your fangs broke his skin. The way his eyes were hollow and empty. How when you were done he simply laid down in his bed and turned away from you, without another word.

The Certified Donors were what made you begin to hate The Society in the first place. Since then, your resentment only seemed to grow.

You sighed, walking past him and flopping onto your couch. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” you confessed.

Felix carefully approached you. Instead of seating himself next to you, he got down on his knees, resting a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay, you can use me. I don’t mind.”

You were ready to tell him no, the word lingering on the tip of your tongue. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Perhaps it was your hunger, the fact that a few more weeks in this drought, you might actually become ill.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you wanted to disobey the society. That this little act of rebellion, this utterly wrong indulgence, was what made your desire grow unbearable, unchained. You hated The Council, you hated the Certified Donor system, and you hated the way they had such a firm grip and control on your life.

A beautiful boy was seated in front of you, begging you to drink from him. How could you possibly say no? Better yet, why would you say no? To deprive yourself of something so great, for something you despised so deeply seemed ridiculous. That was the moment your judgment lapsed, that you crossed the point of no return. If you drank from Felix, there would be no going back. If the council found out, there would be consequences. Big ones.

But who doesn’t love a little risk?

You sunk down to meet him on the floor, staring at his bare chest. You could hear his heart pumping, its pace quickening the closer you got to him.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked.

“Yes,” he whispered. You shifted your position. Not quite seating yourself in his lap, but hovering above, your knees on either side of him.

“This might hurt a little bit,” you warned. You extended your fangs, approaching his neck, carefully. You didn’t realize until then how nervous you were. It had been a long time since you’d fed from a human. You’d drank from Chan of course, but he was also a vampire, and your blood didn’t have quite the same effect. There was pleasure in it, usually accompanied in moments of ecstasy, but it didn’t replenish you. It didn’t heighten your senses, nor fill you with energy. Most of all, it didn’t satisfy your hunger, your thirst. Not at all.

Felix’s blood would.

You kept this in mind as you finally plunged your fangs into his neck. Felix let out a gasp, tensing beneath you, his hand clutching onto your arm for support. The taste of his blood grazed your tongue, metallic and warm. Delicious.

Fuck, did blood ever taste this good before? You didn’t think so.

The sweet taste consumed you. Intoxicating. Raw. Cascading over your mind in a blanket of pleasure, reveling in the way its effects seeped over your body. You could feel your mind growing sharper, your senses becoming more alert. It was a relief, after weeks of blurry weakness, of being too close to humanity in your thirst. You felt yourself again, the monster you are. The monster you are glad to be.

Here you were powerful. Invincible. And all you wanted was more. More. More.

More of this power, this sensation, this strength. This is what feeding should be. What feeding can give you. Not from a blood bag, nor a helpless prisoner, but from someone you want. Someone you desire. Someone who desires you in return.

It was as you felt Felix’s grip on your arm loosen that you finally broke away, breathing hard as you caught your breath. Felix’s eyes shifted to yours lazily, dazed. Perhaps even delirious. For a moment you feared that you’d taken too much. He blinked slowly, his eyes regaining focus.

Then he smiled. “Shit Y/N…” he began, his voice appearing more of a croak. “That felt really fucking good.”

You grinned, leaning into him and pressing a series of kisses up along his jaw. Felix shivered, allowing his hands to slowly slide up your figure. Wanting.

“Yeah?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Then how about we continue where we left off?”

~~~~

The next morning you woke to the sound of your alarm buzzing, sunlight peeking through the opening of your drapes. You heard a low groan next to your ear, quickly becoming aware of the hand wrapped around your waist.

So last night really happened. The reality of your situation dawned on you. You’d both drank from and fucked a human. There was no going back now, you’d completely disobeyed The Society.

Worst of all? You didn’t care. At least, not near as much as you should have.

You shifted to face Felix, seeing his eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” you whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We have to get up. I have class.”

He groaned again in protest, shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Between last night's events and the ringing of your alarm, you both only got about two hours of sleep, and that was being generous. This was no problem for you, as while sleep was a luxury, it was not a necessity. The same didn’t go for Felix.

“Come on,” you laughed, worming out of his grasp. “You’ll be fine, I’ll go make us some coffee.”

You rolled out of bed, throwing on Felix’s discarded shirt and heading towards your kitchen. Flicking on the radio, you felt oddly blissful as you grounded the coffee beans into a filter. It had been a long time since there’d been another person in your apartment. It made the space seem less… haunted. No longer lingering with the essence of Chan’s ghost. It felt fresh. New.

Felix emerged from your bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sporting only his khaki’s from the past day. His gaze met yours and he smiled. “So, I take it my shirt is yours now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning forward over your kitchen counter. Felix bent down, causing you to become nose-level with one another. The close proximity made your heart race.

“Mean,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you softly. There was no unchained desire, no promise of more. It was simple, warm. A morning of peace after a night of wildness.

You could get used to this, you thought.

The thought sunk in your chest like a stone. This wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted to be, as you needed it to be. There would be sacrifices to make, and cautions you’d have to adhere to. You had to get the truth out in the open. Better to rip the bandaid off now rather than later.

“Felix, you can’t tell anyone about this.” You said. The smile faded from Felix’s face, and for a moment he looked so… hurt. He stepped back.

“About the feeding? Y/N, I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are, don’t worry about-”

“No, not just the feeding. About us. About any of it.”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. His gaze hardened. “Ah. Got it,” he stated sharply, grabbing his blazer and motioning to the door. “I’ll just head out then.”

“Wait, Felix! No, it’s not like that,” you said, rushing around the kitchen island and reaching for his arm. He turned around to face you, his expression wounded. “Listen, I don’t know how it was with your old neighbors, but here at Hampden things are different. There’s certain rules we have to follow, and what you and I did? Well, that broke about a hundred of them.”

Felix was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay… But what do you mean rules? Who’s enforcing them? Hampden?”

“No, it’s bigger than that. There’s a group of us here, a society. There are rules we abide by, and they’re meant to keep us safe. Keep us united,” you explained.

“Like a cult?” Felix asked, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Well, if that helps you, then whatever. Yeah, sure. A cult.”

“Where do you-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “But that’s all I can really tell you, at least for now. Honestly, the less you know, the better. Just for safety’s sake.”

“Oh. Alright,” Felix said, his lips pursed. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious.

“I know this sucks, I’m sorry. But if we want to keep doing this-”

“Wait,” Felix interrupted, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You want to keep doing this? I thought you’d get in trouble?”

You smiled, and were pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up in return. “I’ve already risked getting myself in trouble.” You trailed your finger along the bare of his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. He was so alive, so real. And it only made you want him more. Perhaps, that’s why he wanted you as well. You were unpredictable, wild. A challenge.

A match made in hell.

“I dug myself a grave, Lix.” You looked up at him, entranced by the curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Might as well lie in it.”

next chapter

251 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

Text

How the Original Villains Act With Their Twisted Wonderland Counterparts Part 2

I’ve had well over twenty requests for a part 2, so here it is. Please enjoy.

===========================================================

Meeting the two Scarabia boys is an utter nightmare for Jafar! Moreso it's a dream come true....dressed like a nightmare. The poor sand sorcerer didn't even know how he turned from evil genius to exhausted stay at home father overnight. It could have been because he had to save Kalim and Jamil from crashing a flying carpet. Or when he had to get the two young boys to make up after a huge fight. Either way, Jafar has become their -unwilling- illegitimate father.

He's always running around after Kalim trying to make sure he doesn't get himself killed in some way shape or form. At one point Jafar got so fed up that he just baby-proofed all of Scarabia....and still Kalim ended up with a mild concussion and broken rib. Even though the young royal is way more trouble than he's worth, Jafar still deeply cares for him, in a twisted, melodic manner he tries to morphe his relationship with Kalim as what he could have had with the sultan. Sure it's a lot of work, but it's rewarding. Just seeing the white-haired boy smile and wrapped his arms around Jafar's waist is worth more than all the treasures in the cave of wonders.

As for Jamil....well Jafar has high expectations for him. He sees so much raw potential in the boy, a glimmer of what he, himself could have been! It's comical really, how desperately Jafar tries to give Jamil everything that he lacked in life. He's always boosting the younger boy's ego, molding him to believe that he is the best! It's something Jamil never had in his life, someone who tells him that he can -and one day will be- more than just a slave.

Although he tries to mold Jamil in his image, Jafar also does try to keep both boys on friendly terms. He'd hate to see either of them wind up the way he did, lost, and forgotten in a lamp made of his own misery.

The concept of a family has always been an oddity for Hades.

The lord of the dead detests his actual family. Brothers and nephews prancing around in the spotlight, whilst he's left to dwell in the neverending darkness of the underworld. Families are useless, they're nothing more than thrones that prick your finger every time your inches away from plucking the roses of victory.

Although he'd be lying if he didn't say that there was something...exceptional about the two Shroud brothers. They're bizarrely co-dependent, needing one another to function properly. Without one the other turns into a blundering mess of "ERRORS" and "CAN NOT PROCESS, PLEASE REBUT AND TRY AGAIN LATER". The words don't really make much sense to Hades, but the intention his clear. They're two halves of a dysfunctional whole.

It's even more alarming when the two boys -who, the lord of the dead, is starting to notice look a little too much like him- start to open up to him. Letting him stay in their room and permitting him to ramble about his horrible family and "shiny" nephew for hours on end. For the first time since his creation, Hades starts to get the slightest feeling that maybe, just maybe he might be wanted by someone, that someone (or someones) does indeed care about him.

The feeling only starts to spread when Ortho falls into the habit of calling him "Bampás" and wrapping his icy cold metallic arms around his waist. It's not an unpleasant feeling, just a bit shocking and almost to an extent, painful. It brings back rage-filled memories of watching Jercules and his dear big bro hugging, memories of how left out he felt everywhere, of how for almost all eternity he was doomed to be alone.

However, it's not like he doesn't enjoy the hug, it shows the effort the little boy puts in showing just how much he loves his newly found father. Its teeth rotting sweet and...precious, yeah that's a good word for it.

Idia's more drawn back both physically and emotionally. He's constantly hunched over the glowing cube, watching armored heroes slaughtering each other and oddly attractive girls arguing over some plain, boring looking guy. It's a bit annoying, but Hades is all too familiar with the lack of interest in leaving one's dwelling and interacting with others, so he lets it slid...or rather he used to.

As Idia gets used to Hades' looming presence he starts talking a LOT more, never really stops rambling about some new "game" or "movie". It's all dandy, over the centuries Hades has become an expert in pretending to listen to others, a key talent when associating with the other deities of Olympus. However, when Idia starts trying to get him to use that glowing cube or a smaller version that fits in his hand, Hades starts wishing he'd paid more attention to the young god's endless verbose.

The chairs in this century are annoyingly uncomfortable and Idia's constant muttering of the word "boomer" isn't helping. Every time Hades presses a wrong key button thing and Idia mutters that irritating word, he half expects the cube to blow up. Plus why must that light coming from the inside be so damn bright, his eyes are starting to peel out of their sockets.

Ortho's a bit more helpful, explaining in superfluous detail what everything is for. Although each word coming from the boy's mouth just seems like pointless gibberish.

Hades is starting to think that getting that hunk of moussaka out of his throat was easier than understanding these two.

Maleficent has a habit of being just a bit too proud of the four Diasomnia boys.

Silver and Sebek are competent in her mind, which in and of its self is a compliment coming from the witch of thrones. They don't trip over themselves, they understand that babies do in fact grow into adults, and most importantly they are willing to die for their master. They'd make perfect henchmen, better than what she had in her time.

Lilia is an ever-present paradox to the mistress of evil. Ever since she found herself being alive once more, things from the past have gained the nasty habit of disappearing almost entirely from her memory. She swears one her stolen wings that she knows Lilia personally from lifetimes ago. But she can never remember where exactly they met or why every time he looks at her, his eyes are filled with a sort of distant sadness. Like an ancient wound that never healed right.

Malleus is special, to say the least. He's her grandson, after all, a reminder that all she did in this world was NOT in vain. His personality is even a carbon copy of her's, distant and secluded yet humble and fierce. He's been able to climb the ranks to fifth strongest mage worldwide, a feat unaccomplished by others in their family.

It's become a rather alleviate pass time to submerge the four ( she's probably older than Lilia) young man in old tails and fantasies about the ancient times. Tales about how the evil human kings would seek to destroy the fae folk. How some fairies even sided with those pesky humans. Their looks of astonishment (and Lilia's look of satisfaction) soothes the old witch's, rotten heart. It even jolts some memories of a young blond girl, one who would always florrick through the forest by Malificent's side. Beasty was her name, or at least she thinks it was and in some odd prank played by fate she sees Beasty's cheerfulness in all their faces.

1K notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 3 years ago

Text

Deep End - Chapter 11: Date Night

…in which Ezi’s first date gets interfered.

Word count: 2.5k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: sorry this chapter is so short. I was emotionally unstable when I wrote this last week :D I'll try to write more for the next one.

Also, please follow my writing account on Instagram: @allie.writes :) Don't forget to leave comments on this chapter!

“Hey, do you remember Dolores?” Dawson asked.

“How could I forget?” Ezili murmured, eyeing her sister up and down.

Of course Ezi remembered Dolores. She couldn’t if she tried. Whenever she looked at Koa, all she saw was what she could never be, what her mother wished that she was, and it only made her despise herself. When she’d first arrived here, she had felt so out of place, but at the same time, free. She still revisited her old life in her sleep, which made her wake up screaming during the night. And despite all the struggles she’d gone through, she felt appreciated. Harry wasn’t anywhere near great, but he wasn’t bad. He looked out for her even though she wasn’t his kind. And she knew if her mother knew she felt this way about a human, she would not be standing here.

But why was she thinking about Harry? He wasn’t here. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked around as the vibrant atmosphere of the night market drowned out her thoughts. Her sister came forward and pulled her into a hug. She could feel Koa’s claws leaving marks on her shoulders, but she knew it was just her imagination.

Koa withdrew with a smile and lifted those perfect human hands with short blunt nails and twisted her hair into a bun. She looked so human, so natural. Ezili wondered how Koa it, but then she caught a glimpse of the trident hanging on a chain around her neck. She’d been using magic.

Immediately, Ezili grabbed Dawson’s hand and pulled him to her side. Koa tilted her head, looking quite confused, which Ezili knew was all an act. Meanwhile, Dawson was blushing. He cleared his throat. “So...Dolores is also here for the book fair. Mind if she joins us?”

“Not at all,” Ezili said with a tight smile.

“Great!” Koa said, hands clasped against her chest.

Ezili tried to figure out what her sister’s intentions were. Was she here to kill Ezili? Was she here to kill Harry? What if she thought Dawson was Ezili’s new target and was here to kill him? Also, how many humans had she killed for her to be here, dressed, act, and talk like a real human girl?

Ezili walked beside Koa as the girl went on and on about how she’d just moved to London, and all the places she’d visited and enjoyed. She must have got all this information from the magic of the trident. She couldn’t be more human than Ezili, who’d had to learn everything by herself.

“Harry?”

Ezili’s heart gave a lurch when she spotted his face in the crowd. It started with a feeling of comfort, like finding a warm bed in the middle of the raging ocean. But then a tidal wave of anxiety crashed down upon her, and she momentarily forgot about Dawson and her sister. She rushed toward him, pushing past a group of tourists and teenagers who cursed at her.

“There you are!” Harry said, spreading his arms. “My favourite fish.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed and tugged hard at his sleeve. “Why did you follow me here?”

“I didn’t follow you here.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not,” Harry sighed and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he looked around. “Where’s Dawson anyway? Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

Ezili had no time for his questions. “Harry, go home.”

“I’m here to buy books!”

“Oh, yeah? What books?”

“This one,” he said, grabbing a random book from a display shelf they were in front of.

“The Sex Life of Pets?”

“Oh.” His smile dropped as he read the title. “I mean, it does look kinda interesting.”

“Harry, go home. I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are. Dawson left you here all by yourself.”

“He’s taking care of something,” Ezili said anxiously as she put her arms around herself and rubbed. The air was getting cold. She hadn’t had to feel the cold when she’d been a siren. She hated how weak humans were. A slight change of the weather could get them all messed up.

She was about to tell Harry to go home right now because her sister was here, and Dawson might be in danger. Ezili’s job here was to kill one of these men, not save them every single time. But to her surprise, Harry took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Come home with me,” he said, gently. “If you stay here, you might get lost among all these tourists.”

“No, you go home,” she said, pushing his shoulder, but he didn’t budge. “It’s not safe here for you.”

“How?” he chuckled. “I know London like the back of my hand.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Ezili, you’re acting stran—” Harry was about to finish his sentence when his smile vanished. He pointed over Ezili’s shoulder. “Is that Dawson talking to your sister?”

Ezili whirled around, relieved to find Dawson still alive, but the grin her sister gave her while Dawson was talking to a seller made her uneasy.

“Harry, go home,” she snapped at Harry, shoved him hard so he stumbled back. If something happened, she could only save one of them, and she knew for a fact it would be Harry.

“I’m not going home and leaving you here—”

“And I won’t save you if my sister does something again. I’ll save Dawson, and you don’t want to die, do you?”

At first, she thought those words were all harmless, until she saw the way Harry’s smile dropped, and his shoulders slumped. He said nothing, only nodded. Koa and Dawson were heading towards them now. It was too risky to have Harry here.

“Go!” she shouted and pushed him hard. He didn’t joke about it or react, just held her gaze for a moment and walked away.

“Is that Harry? Harry!”

“He’s leaving, Dawson,” Ezili said and turned to her sister. “Could you come with me to the restroom?”

“Yeah, sure!” Koa happily said, then waved at a puzzled Dawson as she got dragged away.

“What are you trying to do?” Ezili asked in Séren when they were far enough from Dawson, but not too far; she still needed to keep an eye on him just in case.

“Nothing,” Koa answered in their mother tongue. “Although Pretty Boy over there looks quite delicious.”

“Stop it!” Ezili snapped. “You’ve been breaking so many rules around here. You’re not allowed to use the magic of the trident for personal gains.”

“Mother entrusted me with it,” Koa mused.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to know what you’d used it for,” Ezili said, disgusted.

Koa’s dark pink lips curled to the side. “You’re jealous,” she said, leaning back, arms crossed.

Ezili had no time for this. “Please go home,” she told her sister. “I have things under control here. I’ll return in a year with the heart.”

“But you don’t have a whole year,” Koa said. “One year could be a lifetime for these creatures. Humans are fickle. They can stay married for twenty years and still can’t love each other.”

Ezili scoffed, eyebrows raised. “Does the trident tell you that?”

“No, Dolores did,” Koa said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger innocently as if she weren’t talking about someone she’d murdered for no reason. “She hated her husband,” she went on. “I heard her talking on the phone with someone about how she had never loved him, and they had two grown children together. Can you believe it? These creatures made up the thing called ‘marriage’ - a lifetime commitment, which they could not keep up with themselves. And as much as your pretty head wants to see the good in these filthy creatures. They are far from good. Not only do they harm other living things, they also harm their own kind. Physically and emotionally.” Koa put her hand on Ezili’s shoulder and squeezed. “That boy you’re so attached to is no different, Ezili. He will never love you.”

Ezili bit her lip and brushed her sister’s hand off of her. “Don’t tell me about humans when I’ve been here for longer than you do.”

“And yet,” Koa said, “you’re still here.”

Ezili wanted to tell Koa she was wrong for doubting Ezili, but Koa wasn’t wrong. Recently, Ezili had been doubting herself, too. She had even considered switching her target from Harry to Dawson, but she could not feel the same connection she’d had with Harry.

“I have an offer for you, Ezili,” Koa’s voice dragged her out of her own thoughts. She blinked at her sister. “Before your birthday, which was supposed to be your coronation day, you may come back to the Queendom. You’ll tell Mother that you cannot accomplish the mission and ask her to make me Queen of the Seven Seas. Then we’ll have a new Queen as planned. Our evil aunt can’t plot against the throne. And when I’m Queen, I’ll make sure you won’t be banished. You’ll get to keep your title as a princess and stay in the castle.”

Ezili hated that she wasted a second to actually consider the offer. “No. I won’t do it,” she spat, stepping back. “If I accepted this offer, no one and nothing in the ocean world would take me seriously. I would become an outcast anyway.”

Koa rolled her eyes and laughed heartily. “At least you’ll still be protected by the army and you’ll have a family. Or would you rather join the mermaids collecting gold all day for your sad little collection? Also, I’m sure the white sharks would love an abandoned siren.”

“I’m going to be Queen,” Ezili said through clenched teeth. “I’m bringing Mother the heart no matter what. Now you go home and tell her just that. And be careful with my trident that you wore around your little breakable neck.”

Koa opened her mouth to speak, but Ezili didn’t give her a chance. She put up a hand and shouted, “Dawson, let’s go! Dolores is just about to leave.”

Ezili didn’t know what time she arrived home. She tried not to think about her sister’s words, which had clearly been for the purpose of making her doubt herself. She still hoped Dawson had had a great time tonight. They’d bought some books after she’d got rid of Koa, then stopped at a restaurant on the way back to Harry’s mansion. She’d apologised when he’d dropped her off for not being quite herself tonight, and she hated how he’d cheerfully said, “It was nothing. No worries.” Why did humans lie about how they felt all the time? If something bothered you or made you uncomfortable, why not just say it? Why did they feel the need to complicate things? It was hard enough for her to understand human emotions, and they expected her to be able to guess?

“Hey,” Harry said when their eyes met and she froze in the doorway. She’d expected him to be sleeping right now. “You look clean. Guess your sister didn’t kill Dawson?”

Ezili narrowed her eyes at him and kicked off her shoes. “No. Nothing bad happened.”

“Oh, man. I was hoping he was dead.”

“Shut up,” she said. “Also, I don’t think my sister will ever bother us again.” That, she wasn’t sure. She just wanted to be reassured even if it was by her own words.

Harry got up, hands slipped into his pockets. “Sooo...how was your date?”

Ezili pretended she hadn’t heard that question. “Why are you still up?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Had too much coffee earlier.” Then repeated, “How was your date?”

“It was fine,” Ezili said. "Why did you show up?"

"I was just making sure you wouldn't cause any trouble? Your name is tied to mine now, in case you've forgotten."

"How can I? You literally remind me of our fake relationship every two seconds."

“Why are you so pissed off?”

“I’m not.”

“You clearly are,” he persisted.

She let out a sigh, about to just go upstairs and ignore him for the rest of the night, but this one question kept tugging at her. So she had to ask.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry looked confused for a second. “No. Never. I think I’ve told you about what happened with my exes.”

“But did you love them at one point?”

“Well, I thought I loved them,” he said. “But looking back now, I don’t think I know what love is. It’s just...a lot of times, I want to be alone. Just me and Chilli. If someone enters my life and stays around for too long, it makes me uncomfortable.”

“But I’m also living here. We see each other all the time.”

“It’s not like I have a choice to kick you out,” he said, then instantly looked regretful.

Ezili padded across the room and stopped in front of him. “Why would anybody want to be alone?” She knew she didn’t. She was doing all this just to be accepted by her kind, but he, who had everything from fame and wealth to a supportive family, wanted to be left alone?

“You’re not the first girl to ask me that,” he said with a grin. “I think it has a lot to do with how I was brought up. I feel like everyone has these certain expectations for me, and when I don’t meet those expectations, I disappoint them. I just want to be by myself so I can just be me. I don’t want to adjust myself to the presence of others.”

Ezili nodded then moved a bit closer.

“What are you--”

She surprised him by placing her palm on the left side of his chest. Her skin tingled with the sensation of his little unsteady heartbeats when she came near. “But there’s nothing here,” she mumbled as if it would make sense to him. “You were telling the truth.”

“What do you mean?” Harry let out a nervous laugh and reached for her hand, which she withdrew before he could touch.

“Nothing.”

Harry’s smile faded. “Did Dawson say anything about me?”

“No. We hardly talked about you.”

“What about your sister? Why is she here?” he kept asking when she brushed past him and headed for the stairs. “Does your mother want you back? Ezi, what happened tonight?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “I’m just tired. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Ezi,” he said, his voice soft and pleading as if he could love her for a moment. But how could he? How could a man, who had lived his whole life without falling in love and prided himself on his loneliness, ever fall in love with a siren? He’d said he’d wanted to kiss her again, but there he’d stood in front of her and claimed her presence in this house made him uncomfortable. Then when her hand had been on his heart, she had felt nothing.

So had he lied about it? Humans lied about how they felt all the time. If they could lie about wanting to spend the rest of their life with one person, they could lie about wanting to kiss a siren.

Maybe, just maybe, Ezili should consider her sister’s offer.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles x mc #harry styles smut #harry styles series

70 notes · View notes

queerdraws · 3 years ago

Photo

Cleaning Out the Rooms - a Harry Du Bois playlist Alcoholism, getting better?, memory loss, being a superstar, The Final Dream, forming political opinions, bad breakups, past transgressions, being a strange and inconsistent being, and persisting despite it all 26 songs (r-slur warning for Turnin’ on the Screw - QotSA)

including: David Bazan, They Might be Giants, The Mountain Goats, British Sea Power (of course), Queens of the Stone Age, and more. Full track listing and lyric excerpts under the cut

---- Turnin' on the Screw - Queens of the Stone Age (This is the opening track on Era Vulgaris, seemed like an appropriate opening song / introduction to Harry's general essence) ----

... They say those who can't just instruct others And act like victims or jilted lovers You can't lose it if you never had it Disappear, man, do some magic

Want a reason? How's about because You ain't a has been if you never was

I sound like this

Scared to say what is your passion So slag it all, bitter's in fashion Fear of failure's all you've started The jury is in, verdict: r******d

I'm so tired, and I'm wired too I'm a mess; I guess I'm turning on the screw

---- Bless this Mess - David Bazan (Harry being a drunk and a general mess, things going in cycles) ----

God bless the man who stumbles God bless the man who falls God bless the man who yields to temptation God bless the woman who suffers God bless the woman who weeps God bless the children trying her patience Trouble getting over it Is what you're in for So pour yourself another 'Cause it'll take a steady pair of hands Holy or unholy ghost Well now I can't tell, but either way you cut it You should get some distance if you plan to take a stand God bless the house divided God bless the weeds in the wheat God bless the lamp hid under a bushel I discovered hell to be the poison in the well So I tried to warn the others of the curse But then my body turned on me I dreamt that for eternity My family would burn Then I awoke with a wicked thirst

---- Don’t Sit Down Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair - Arctic Monkeys (general Harry vibe. off-kilter) ----

Break a mirror, roll the dice

...

Find a well-known hard man and start a fight Wear your shell suit on bonfire night Fill in a circular hole with a peg that's square

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

...

Bite the lightning and tell me how it tastes Kung fu fighting on your roller skates Do the Macarena in the devil's lair

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

---- I've Been Seeing Things - They Might be Giants (feels very Harry's detecting style, surreal happenstance) ----

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things Don't have answers but I've got lots of questions

Carpool's up, someone gets out Hand someone else a violin case I'm trying not to let them see me looking at them But I'm pretty sure there was a dollar sign

Keep your eyes peeled and you'll see stuff Which at first seems like unimportant irrelevant things

Can't just ask some perfect stranger "What are you hiding in your violin case?" Shadow them at a distance instead Try to get inside their head

Where'd they go now (Where'd they go now) I got distracted (I got distracted) Begging me to stay (Begging me to stay) Wearing a disguise (Wearing a disguise) That lady (That lady) Must have ditched the kid (Must have ditched the kid) Hidge the down (Hidge the down) [???] What's she up to now? (What's she up to now?) Trembling cold by the airport road Watching them stack containers in rows Seagulls, helicopter, windblown trash Something doesn't add up

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things No one asks but I'm packing all kinds of attention

Later I'm watching a news report Camera pans across a crime scene Unremarked upon detail Empty violin case Okay maybe not the same case Different material, different color Still you have to wonder Am I the only one who knows

I've been seeing things

---- Music is the Victim - Scissor Sisters (breakup Harry. drug-addled disco Harry) ----

I left my heart in San Fransisco It's at some motherfucking disco The people there where dancin' on it And that's including Ms. Matronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

Of your bad fun Money's all gone but you need some Lover's on the phone but they got none Daddy ain't home from the dog run And you're riding through the city with a shotgun

I left my bag in Pasadena Where all them girls was doin' Tina Them bitches sure were crunked up on it I said I'd rather smoke some chronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

---- Down to Your Soul - Right Away, Great Captain! (about the Final Dream and pre-game Harry) ----

And I see things I actually don't see. I knew it wasn't actually you a few feet from my reach. I looked into your eyes and I began to lose my teeth, And I felt you were dreaming the same thing.

And I know you don't know what I'm capable of But if you give me just one more minute I'm sure That you would be shaking right down to your soul And I'd hope that the fear of the lord brings me home. I'm a man in a body of water so tall Could swallow you whole and forget where he's going But I carved a map in the back of my arm Don't worry I'm coming home I said don't worry cause I'm coming home

---- No Surprises - Radiohead (suicidal harry, pre-game. Maybe immediately before the game. A little Big Communism Builder) ----

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government They don't, they don't speak for us I'll take a quiet life A handshake of carbon monoxide

And no alarms and no surprises

…

This is my final fit My final bellyache

…

No alarms and no surprises, please (get me out of here)

---- Cleaning Out the Rooms - British Sea Power (The instrumental part seems to have been used / referenced for a background music track. And also the name of that one thought project. as expected, it fits beautifully. Wake up in a new life, down by the seaside. Cleaning out the rooms. She’ll be coming soon.) ----

Where life is good in a way Swept away upon our hearts, in cold coal ceremonial On a rainy day, hang it up Get the vacuum and suck it in Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up Dark cloud, drifting out of view I'll never know, she'll be coming soon, that is all I'll wake up in a new life, ship shape and shoe shine Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up She'll be coming soon Drifting into view, way in the west, white cloud If everybody knew, I never knew, she'll be coming soon I'll wake up in a new life, down by the seaside In a new life, down by the seaside Cleaning out the room, I'll clean it up Dark clouds, she'll be coming soon Down the chimney, out the window, that is all

---- In the Morning of the Magicians - The Flaming Lips (waking up with no memory, but bad vibes) ----

In the morning I awake

And I couldn't remember What is love and what is hate

The calculations error

Oh, what is love and what is hate? And why does it matter? Is to love just a waste? And how can it matter?

Oh...

As the dawn began to break I had to surrender The universe will have its way Too powerful to master

---- Once in a Lifetime - Talking Heads (Huh?? What's happening?? same as it ever was, same as it ever was) ----

And you may ask yourself, "How do I work this?" And you may ask yourself, "Where is that large automobile?" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful house" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful wife"

...

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was Same as it ever was, same as it ever was

...

And you may ask yourself, "What is that beautiful house?" And you may ask yourself, "Where does that highway go to?" And you may ask yourself, "Am I right? Am I wrong?" And you may say to yourself, "My God! What have I done?"

---- Don't Change - David Bazan (alcoholism, cycles of wanting to get better, depression, slipping in to old coping mechanisms, plus a little bit in here about dreams. This is a song for if Harry continues partying after the memory wipe, I suppose) ----

He seems nice You met him once or twice But you wonder what he's like When he's sober

Then again You hear he has no friends Just people that he spins To do him favors

When he wakes up in the morning he tells himself Today I'll make a change But falling into his bed at night he thinks Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

I'm so deep That only in my sleep Do the secrets that I keep Float to the surface

So I hold them down Till they don't make a sound Like they accidentally drowned Except on purpose

And when I wake up in the morning I tell myself Today I'll make a change But falling into my bed at night I think Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

---- Airbag - Radiohead (born again, back to save the universe) ----

In the next world war In a jackknifed juggernaut I am born again In the neon sign scrolling up and down I am born again

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

In a deep, deep sleep of the innocent I am born again In a fast German car I'm amazed that I survived An airbag saved my life

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

---- A Comet Appears - The Shins (puppeting a man-body around pretending to be a living thing. drinking, depression) ----

One hand on this wily comet Take a drink just to give me some weight Some uber-man I'd make I'm barely a vapor

They shone a chlorine light on A host of individual sins Let's carve my aging face off Fetch us a knife Start with my eyes Down so the lines Form a grimacing smile

Close your eyes to corral a virtue Is this fooling anyone else? Never worked so long and hard To cement a failure

---- The Communists Have the Music - They Might be Giants (Big Communism Builder, but especially Harry's shallow understanding of Communism. Party-boy communist) ----

I got handed an Ayn Rand sandwich Straight from the can, it tasted so bland I asked a lass to pass me a glass Of Engels' Conditions of the Working Class

Right away they dragged me to the committee To explain my un-American activity They're gonna see they made a mistake If they'd only let me play my mixtape

I'm not partial to the martial Or the plutocrats, in their beaver hats And the fascists have the outfits But I don't care for the outfits What I care about is music And the communists have the music

---- Harlem Roulette - The Mountain Goats (Harry thinking about Guillame le Million? Generally: that vibe of secret, maybe supranatural machinations happening just outside your field of view. A kinda lonely, pensive vibe, sprinkled with past drug use, driving...memory) ----

Unknown engines underneath the city Steam pushing up in billows through the grates Frankie Lymon's tracking "Seabreeze" in a studio in Harlem Its 1968. Just a pair of tunes to hammer out. Everybody's off the clock by 10:00. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. Feels so free when I hit the avenue. Nothing like a New York summer night. Every dream's a good dream, Even awful dreams are good dreams, If you're doing it right. Remember soaring higher than a cloud. Get pretty sentimental now and then. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. And four hours north of Portland, a radio flips on. And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone. Armies massing in the dusky distance. Ghosted in the ribbon microphone. Leave a little mark on something, maybe, Take the secret circuit home. Nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands. Reaching out to sad, young, frightened men. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again.

---- Suture up Your Future - Queens of the Stone Age (Harry's gonna fix his mess) ----

I'm gon' suture up my future I ain't jaded, I just hate it See, I been down too long It's kinda hard to explain Burned and buried, all I carried

...

Tried explaining unexplained Got caught in the plan All this talking at once I've been giving my love away To the things that tear it apart I'm gonna suture up my future

---- Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse (Harry trashing his body / having already trashed his body, just kinda a Harry-vibe song) ----

...

Well, the lampshade's on fire when the lights go out This is what I really call a party now Well, fear makes us really, really run around A-this one's done so where to now? Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all Well, you all know what I'm talking about The room lights up, but we're still dancing around We're having fun, having some fun now

Pack up again, head to the next place Where we'll make the same mistakes Open one up and let it fall to the ground Pile out the door when it all runs out

...

As our feelings are getting hurt Oh, we want you to do the work Our ass looks great inside these jeans Well, we want just our water clean

Well, this is how it's always been And this is how it's going to be So you just move on

---- Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes (Harry "can-opener" du Bois. Talking to the skills, solving things, detecting, generally being a terrifying force of nature / the pale) ----

I'm gonna fight 'em all A seven nation army couldn't hold me back They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back

And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette

And the message coming from my eyes Says, "Leave it alone"

Don't wanna hear about it Every single one's got a story to tell Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell

And if I catch it coming back my way I'm gonna serve it to you And that ain't what you want to hear But that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones Says, "Find a home"

---- Body of Years - Mother Mother (Harry's past that follows him, Harry's half-decomposed body that marks the years of abuse it's been through) ----

All the remains of a cadaver of days I keep hidden away, keep them there just in case I wanna visit that place Blow the dust from the bones Off a body of years that I leave all alone Just a body of years

See the skin disappears And the blood turns to stone In a body of years now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul It's a body of years that I leave all alone

It's Just a body of years, now a pile of bones You know Old soul who falls down Can't stop trippin' on these Old roads I go down Get back up and get my foot in the door And my face on the page Make my mark in the world With a bat and a blade It's a body of work that you can't ever change Like a body of years that you take to your grave It's just a body of years that I leave all alone It's just a body of years, now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul

---- The Cap-m - They Might be Giants (just a Harry vibe song) ----

When I talk you keep looking away from me 'Cause you probably think that I'm high on pot But I'm not, I'm not

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You say it's such a joke But I don't see you laughing

People seem to think you can't be called the Cap'm Unless you drive a boat Well, I don't I don't

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm Go ahead and mess with me You'll find out what will happ'm

...

Did you say what I think you just said My hat looks good on me? I agree, I agree

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You act like it's a joke But I don't see you laughing

---- Broke - Modest Mouse (oops! all mistakes. Broke it all. Want to forget it but can't) ----

Broke account, so I broke a sweat I've bought some things that I sort of regret about now Broke my pace and ran out of time Sometimes I'm so full of shit that it should be a crime

Broke a promise 'cause my car broke down Such a classic excuse it should be bronze by now Broke your glasses, but it broke the ice You said that I was an asshole and I paid the price

Broken hearts want broken necks I've done some things that I'd love to forget, but I can't

Broke up, and I'm relieved somehow It's the end of the discussions that just go 'round and 'round And 'round, and 'round, and 'round ... It was like everything was evidence of broken time

You're living on fancy wine You'll drink that turpentine You're starting conversations You don't even know the topic

---- Spent Gladiator 2 - The Mountain Goats (Defiantly alive) ----

Like a spent gladiator, Crawling in the coliseum dust. Who can count on his remaining limbs, All the people he can trust. Like the one who stands behind him, Cheering him on. Ecstatic when he stands defiant, Wild with abandon when he's gone. Just stay alive. Keep your eyes on the pay line. Like a village on the step, About to get collectivized. When the men emerge with rifles from the haystack, Everybody looks surprised. Like the mice in the forgotten grain, Way up on the top shelf. Like someone who's found a small town to escape to, Keeps one eye on his abandoned, former self. Stay in the game. Just try to play through the pain. Like a fighter who's been told its finally time for him to quit. Show up in shining colors, And then stand there and get hit. Like the clock that ticks in Dresden, When the whole town's been destroyed. Like the nagging flash of insight, You're always desperate to avoid. Like the bloody-knuckled gunman, Still stationed at the breach. Like that board game with the sliders, And the children on the beach. Stay alive. Maybe spit some blood at the camera. Just stay alive. Stay forever alive.

---- You Only Live Once - The Strokes (just general Harry, talking about the skills, choices you can make, what kind of cop you can be) ----

Twenty-nine different attributes Only seven that you like, oh-oh Twenty ways to see the world, oh And twenty ways to start a fight, oh

...

And countless odd religions too It doesn't matter which you choose, oh, no One stubborn way to turn your back, oh This I've tried and now refuse, oh

Oh don't, don't, don't get up I can't see the sunshine Oh, I'll be waiting for you, baby 'Cause I'm through Sit me down Shut me up I'll calm down And I'll get along with you

---- Pork and Beans - Weezer (Superstar Cop) ----

They say I need some rogaine to put in my hair Work it out at the gym to fit my underwear Oakley makes the shades to transform a tool You'd hate for the kids to think that you've lost your cool

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

No, I don't care I don't care

---- Freaks - Surf Curse (head filled with skills, The Final Dream) ----

Don't kill me just help me run away From everyone I need a place to stay Where I can cover up my face Don't cry, I am just a freak

I am just a freak(x3)

My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully I won't wake up this time

I won't wake up this time(x3)

---- The Smallest Church in Sussex - British Sea Power (oh yeah this is mandatory) ----

#disco elysium #harry du bois #harrier du bois #hdb #disco elysium playlist #generally wanted to keep this playlist fun to listen to despite the subject matter to there are still a lot of songs w good beats #communists have the music gets stuck in my head all the time #also sorry to repost this #i forgot to tag anything and if you edit something to add tags it doesn't seem to show up in search

110 notes · View notes

plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years ago

Text

A little written-in-the-middle-of-the-night Loki fic snippet that just grew another leg. TVA Loki + Lokane. Rating T.

(First part is here)

Shine a Light, part II

The tempad feels hot and slippery in his palm as he stalks down the hallway, quickly putting distance between himself and the hunter he left unconscious amidst overturned chairs and tables in the canteen.

The mess had already been there, leftovers from workers rushing panicked to man their stations. He had simply added one more touch.

Tiny droplets of sweat bead his brow and blood has started seeping though the tear in his crumbled shirt.

The fabric is clinging wetly to his bicep, but in the mayhem unfolding around him, nobody gives him a second glance.

For the first time, he is thankful at least to be wearing the anonymous uniform dictated by the oppressors.

He reaches the kill me kind of room again and shuts the door behind him.

You were meant to cause suffering and death.

You’re a cosmic mistake.

You were meant to die at the hands of the mad titan.

Lies.

All lies.

Still projected on the wall is the paused image of a lost memory of his unfulfilled fate.

He sees himself, Thor and her on the barren planet with the black soil. The man he never became is lying on the ground, Thor cradling him.

She watches them both in shock.

It resonates in his bones. He has to go there.

He has to reach his brother at this precise, excruciatingly rare moment of heroism. His act of heroism.

Before the scheming and deceit poison their bond once more in an endless loop of disappointment.

In this moment, all is forgiven. Thor will listen and help. A different path will branch.

And he has to go to her.

It is ludicrous, this riddle, yet the truth of it presses hard on his chest.

On the grainy roll of film, he saved her life and her eyes bore into his with such intensity, his acute need still reverberates like an echo between the walls of the kill me kind of room.

The smell of lilacs lingers.

What will happen when he faces his own self on the timeline, he can’t imagine. Also, he gives it little thought at this late stage with universal logic already suspended as it is. Hopefully he can reason with the man he was meant to be.

He has had quite enough of being his own past, present and future selves’ worst enemy.

And so he pushes the buttons on the tempad.

Something is very wrong.

The sky is too blue, the distant sound of waves lapping calmly at a shore is misplaced.

He has emerged from the door onto a quiet gravel road lined with tall grass and low pines. A single, white wooden house stands to his left, surrounded by a lawn dotted with wildflowers. The sun is warm on his back.

This is Midgard, he is sure of it.

How could he shoot past his destination so spectacularly?

He is about to scroll down the list of numbers and names on the tiny screen of the tempad when he notices a man approaching. Old, walking leisurely with a round, short-legged dog much the same white color as the mortal’s own wispy hair.

The latter starts a little when he spots Loki.

And then he does the most unexpected thing and speaks his name.

Loki’s name.

He almost drops the tempad (no! Not again) and the old one grins good-naturedly. “Hold on to your fancy phone there. Far away, were we?”

Loki only just about stops himself from shaking the man by his shoulders. His fists clench uncontrollably.

“What year is this?! How do you know my name?”

His voice sounds shrill, feverish, and unsurprisingly the eyes in the lined face before him go wide with puzzlement and … something else.

“Loki, what on Earth? Are you quite alright?”

Shock washing over him, Loki staggers back. H-how?

But the man is closing the gap between them, oozing concern. “Have you - are you drunk?” he asks incredulously.

He reaches out.

What is happening?

Loki shies away from the touch, his mind spinning.

Forcibly gathering his composure, he straightens and wills his words to come out steady. “No, I’m okay. Apologies. A bad joke”.

He smiles reassuringly. It takes more effort than parting an ocean.

The dog is sniffing insistently at his ankles.

The man looks him over with suspicion but the worry is subsiding. “Okay, then… no harm, no foul. You know, sometimes these peculiar ‘jokes’ of yours can make a neighbor all kinds of slightly worried”.

Neighbor?

“Most understandably, won’t happen again. Sorry to have bothered you”. Loki cuts him off smoothly. “Have a nice day”. He nods and turns before hysteria can creep into his voice.

“In case you need it for your punchline, the year is 2016”, the man calls over his shoulder as he shuffles away, pulling the reluctant dog after him.

Loki’s blood runs cold. 2016. Oh, this is so wrong. Three years wrong.

Did he hit another button at the last minute? He had been clutching the tempad so hard the edges cut into his fingers.

He curses his own impatience. Tech savvy indeed.

Holding up the blasted piece of TVA wizardry, he tries to enter a new series of numbers when his name rings out again.

And again, he almost jumps. But this time, his heart stays in his throat.

“Loki? What are you doing out here? I’ve been looking all over for you”.

Her voice reaches him from the porch of the white house. She is skipping lightly down the steps, the screen doors left open behind her. Music drifts into the garden from somewhere inside.

She is crossing the lawn. He is no longer breathing.

Her long auburn hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she is wearing a light blue summer dress. Her feet are bare.

Absurdly, he notes that she looks more tanned than the last time he saw her through the visor of the destroyer in the desert. A year and a lifetime ago. To him.

His grip on whatever reality he’s been clinging to since New York is seriously faltering.

She is beaming. He cannot move a muscle.

She comes all the way up to him and without pause wraps her slender arms around his neck. He can feel the warmth of her body through his shirt, smell the perfume of her skin. She smells of … -

“Where did you go, handsome?” She smiles playfully.

“Pepper called earlier to say that she actually got Tony out of the door on time, if you can believe it, so they’ll be here any minute. And her and I agreed that you two hotheads are going to play nice tonight, okay?”

She is teasing him but he hardly understands the words she’s saying. It makes no sense.

And then, before he can begin to form a response, she stands on tiptoes and kisses him and the world falls away.

Reflexively, he puts his arms around her, drawing her close to him. She moans happily. He leans into the kiss, not knowing what he’s doing other than that he never wants to stop.

Her mouth is soft and warm and new and familiar all at the same time, and the way her fingers curl in his hair sends electricity shooting down his spine.

It should be all anguish and tragic confusion, like before in the castle beyond time, but it is not.

It feels more right that anything he can remember since before his fall from the Bifrost, more real and yet more magical than his recent journeys into mystery.

Then it’s over all too soon and she draws away.

His arms are suddenly much too empty and he almost reaches for her again, craving her touch.

For a fleeting heartbeat, his soul had no longer felt torn apart to the point of forgetting he’d ever been whole.

The chaos had crumbled in on itself like a bad dream.

He is surprised he still knows what peace of mind feels like after what has happened to him since arriving at the TVA.

But now she looks at him with alarm in those beautiful brown eyes and he is crudely reminded that he is an intruder in her reality.

What she thought she saw, she clearly no longer recognizes.

It takes him all of three stupidly long seconds to remember that she said his name. That he’s wearing his own face and not a disguise.

That she knew him immediately, just like the old man.

She kissed him.

Too many impossible possibilities and the thunderous sound of his own heartbeat (surely she can hear it too) blur his vision.

He’s only vaguely aware that he is stepping towards her, trying to say something without the faintest idea of what’s going to come out of his mouth.

If it’ll even be words.

Her eyes dart over his clothes, his face.

“Loki, what - Why are you dressed like that? Have you been gone? Is that … blood?”

She retreats further, fear building.

“Jane, I-“

Her name rolls of his tongue with a sweet-tasting intimacy like he has said it a thousand times before.

But he doesn’t get to dwell on this, nor gather his thoughts to say anything else before something abruptly lifts him off the ground and hurls his body across the road.

“How dare you touch her, beast?!”

Immediately as his back connects with the rough gravel, someone is there, a knee pushing him down, fingers closing around his throat. A sharp object presses against his chin.

There is a dangerous, unhinged growl as his attacker breathes hotly in his ear. “You will die for this!”

The man is strong and somehow blocking Loki’s own magic, but he still manages to twist his head -

And looks right up into his own eyes, nearly black with rage.

“Speak! What are you??”

The man with a face exactly like his presses the tip of his blade closer to Loki’s left eye. “You will show yourself right now or -“

Gathering his magic tightly around him (focus!), Loki pushes back, hard.

With a surge of energy, their bodies are separated, and the other version of him lands heavily in the middle of the road some meters away.

Both of them are on their feet with the fluid movements of two panthers ready to pounce, the other now in full armor.

He has to leave, right now, even if means leaving her which is a catastrophe that might either kill him or make him try to kill his other self if he stays here another minute.

This timeline is clearly not his own.

It cannot be.

Arm outstretched to ward off his furious twin with a shield of magic, he tries to work the tempad with one hand.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

A booming voice above their heads.

“You know, when Jane pressed the panic button just now, I thought we had an actual emergency. Not that you were preparing a little dinner show for us, Reindeer Games. Gotta be honest though, this doppelgänger stunt was never my favorite -“

“Stark!”

The variant - for he must be a variant - angrily interrupts the man in the metal suit hovering in the air.

Of course, Loki remembers him all too clearly.

What has it been, less than a week since he threw him, or a version of him, out the window of the glass tower?

“This is not my creation”, the variant hisses with venom dripping from every word. “I caught him assaulting Jane. Kissing her”.

“What?!”

Stark focuses all his attention (and one of his iron fists) on Loki. A metallic humming rises steadily from inside the suit.

“A man on a suicide mission then. Boy, did you smooch the wrong wizard’s baby-mama. He may look all domesticated and cute now, but I assure you he’s still all kinds of crazy. In fact-”.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I know it’s asking a lot, of you in particular, Stark, but could we possibly save the personal insults till we have dealt with this right here?”

Wait, just wait.

Damn it, he can’t tap in the destination on the tempad without looking at it.

Green smoke is swirling around the hands of his other self. He knows what’s coming.

“This is your last warning, devil! I will not have you hiding behind my face as I -“

“This is my face! I’m you, you fool! Bigger things are at large here and-“ Loki falters, his silver tongue failing once more with rising predictability within what seems a disconcertingly short period of time.

Although he honestly can’t tell anymore.

“Please, take a minute -“

He can’t help but shout, sounding hopelessly desperate.

In another life, he might have felt humiliated, but letting pride dictate his emotions is no longer a luxury he can afford to indulge.

Still, the silence that follows his outburst is not nearly as long as he needs it to be.

The variant stares blankly at him, mouth slightly ajar, but Stark recovers easily, his voice now icy.

“Yeah, dude, that one might have worked better if you’d put on a clean shirt. Time to fess up real quick or we’ll have to-“

Drawing what might become his last breath, Loki looks away and down at the tempad. He presses the button. No more time to double check.

“What the?!”

Both Stark and the variant visibly flinch as the door appears.

He quickly makes for it. “I - I’m sorry. Truly, I am”. He looks to their stunned faces before turning to his exit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he registers the variant move (he has to be a variant). His mouth twists in an ugly snarl and two familiar daggers are appearing by his sides.

Before the door snaps completely shut, Loki sees Jane run up to the man and grab his arm.

“Love, no, don’t!”

He sees the slight bump under her dress that he didn’t notice before.

And then the scene disappears and he’s gone.

Part III

#loki #loki series #tva loki #loki laufeyson #lokane ff #lokane fanfic #lokane #jane foster #loki x jane #loki fic

41 notes · View notes

pomp-and-circumstance · 4 years ago

Text

I have some grocery shopping I need to do and it’s far later in the day than I want it to be, but I can’t not talk about the letter poem exchange before I do. Let’s do this.

First off, one of my favorite things about Critical Role is how they just enjoy themselves, and not in the sense of playing the game, but in that they’re aware they run a show, but they’re not afraid to have fun and be a little unorthodox and feel like they need to fit themselves into some kind of category. That said, everything that happens does so while the cast looks like this:

There’s no escaping this. No video editing, no gifset, no nothing can take this away from us. I love these people.

Anyway, the Nein have advanced to Eislecross and are currently in Balenpost waiting for Vess to do her shit and progress and hunt Mollymauk. While waiting for her to show, Beau goes and checks in on Yasha, and BOY, do we get some stuff that’s almost hard to hear. I’ll get to that in a second.

(Yasha kicks this off with “Hey, friend,” and I think there’s something so innocent and adorable about this. “Hello person who I insinuated I’d fuck below a kink mirror but am totally willing to back off on that a little for the sake of your comfort even though it really is something that I’d like to do and maybe you’d like to do it, too, one day, maybe if we were girlf--how’d you sleep? Oh yes, the little training gym you have, burn off some... steam... yeah...”)

There’s this tiny moment where Yasha gets to praise Beau’s intellect and how she connected the dots between Vess DeRogna and the Eyes of Nine, and her choice of words is so simple, but so heavy. “It’s amazing how your mind works and I’m really proud of how you did all that and connected a lot of things.” I think one of the most powerful compliments any person can pay to another is how proud they are of them. This is clever on Yasha’s part, because after seeing how Thoreau treated Beau in Kamordah, she’s able to put it together - whether immediately or with some time - that Beau isn’t used to hearing a lot of compliments about her mind. Being able to research all these things and put them together is no accident, but people tend to focus on Beau’s physicality or her brashness or loud behavior long before they give her credit for how damn intelligent she is. (It might not be on par with Caleb, but there’s a reason they do research together.)

Beau reveals this to us with immediate deflection. “Yeah, you know, broken clock. Right a couple times, you know?” Yasha seems to be slightly bothered by this, or is at least satisfied that a seed has been planted, even if Beau’s knee jerk reaction was to brush it off. A lifetime of neglect does not one compliment heal. Regardless, she does it again when Beau states she feels like she’s found her calling. “It really suits you very well to do what you’re doing.” Beau deflects again, not as much in self deprecation, but in a chance to change the subject. Put a pin in this, we’re gonna come back to it in a second.

The change in subject goes to Beau noticing Yasha react to Tent Ikithon being in their heads momentarily, and man... Yasha is able to reflect that it’s like you’re not alone, but not in a good way. “I hope it doesn’t happen again, but yeah, it’s not fun.” This is why I feel like it’s so important, with recent events, that Beau goes and talks about her newfound ability with Yasha in-game, but we’ll get to that when we get there. She also confides that it was like that with Obann, but she was still present in her own mind, even if she wasn’t in charge of it. What a revelation for Beau, even if she’d already come to some kind of conclusion that Yasha wasn’t herself - a pivotal battle in the chantry, stabbed through the chest with Skingorger, and, now interwoven through it all, “I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you because of me.”

It’s a singular moment Yasha is able to focus on above all others, and in a way, is her own self deprecation. Her wisdom saves are almost always failures, and there’s a vulnerability to be able to admit that you’ve got so much power, and how it can scare you to be so susceptible to someone else’s influence. How nightmarish, to be sitting at a table with friends and hear someone in your mind, and panic for a split second that it maybe happened again. Yasha hasn’t really spoken to anyone about this outside of Beau, and Beau is the one who very nearly died from all this.

Beau, however, is able to turn everything around with a simple truth. “I knew it wasn’t you.” Maybe it doesn’t change how Yasha feels about it altogether, but there’s got to be some kind of comfort in knowing that, were it to happen again, Beau would know it wasn’t because Yasha herself wanted her dead. What she’s giving Yasha is the gift of trust, even if not explicitly stated, and that’s pretty damn significant for a conversation this heavy. So significant to Yasha, in fact, that she makes the decision here and now to give Beau the poem.

(Bonus Laura, who reacted exactly the way I did watching this for the first time.)

My absolute favorite thing about this is the draft of the poem happened two episodes ago, which you kinda could smush into happening in the previous episode if, yanno, we didn’t have a T-Rex on a boat and stuff. (Thanks, Liam!) This means that whatever confidence Yasha said she got from talking to Jester wasn’t just legit, but the key to everything was knowing that Beau trusts her. “I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you because of me” is more than just words to Beau, it’s also an admission, I think, that Yasha needed trust, beyond being a companion in an adventuring party, to really put this thing in motion. Once that’s in place, it’s all systems go; vulnerability comes out in full swing, but it at least comes out when Yasha simply states, “I actually wrote a poem for you.”

Okay, remember the pin from earlier? Let’s go back to that. We were talking about Beau deflecting from compliments and being a bit self deprecating, ‘cause trauma is a thing and healing from that is a thing. Now that trust, the very key component, is in place, Yasha wastes no time getting the ball rolling on this thing. It’s adorable, and man does Ashley help remind us all that this shit is very, very new for Yasha, when she gets so nervous just handing off the poem and “no no no, don’t look at it now, you can look at it later.”

(Laura is all of us in this moment.)

Making this kind of jump is so nerve wracking anyway, but handing off a poem is kind of a big fucking deal for Yasha, assuming Zuala never got these kinds of things, which I think is a safe bet. But Beau? Beau is a mess from the get go. She has no idea what do to with herself. “You wrote me a poem,” she says, stammering over her words, laughing nervously, and finally shares what she hopes is a compliment, and maybe a bit of awe too, when she finishes with, “Nobody’s ever written me a poem before.”

And Ashley, in a brilliant bit of acting, goes back to the place this whole conversation started with and compliments Beau in a way she can’t deflect nor escape from: “Well, they should have.” There’s just a bit of bite in this that I love so much. Yasha aches for her. This brilliant mind, this force of a human being that doesn’t take shit from anybody, hasn’t gotten something like this? Beau, you’re worthy of poems, you’re worthy of compliments, you’re worthy of praise and adoration and all of this stuff, and maybe this poem will show you that I want to give that to you. You didn’t get it before. If you let me, I’ll give it to you now.

Another thing I love about this is the only idea we have of the poem is that it’s still the cringe worthy sonnet-like “oh Beau Beau Beau” and we can feel this sort of anxiety for the future when Beau pulls it out and sees things like “shorn” and “envelop” and all that kinda stuff.

Little did we know.

#beauyasha #critical role #critical role spoilers #S2ep114 #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #ashley johnson #shit gets so real like an hour later #so much happens in this episode and i'm so happy they found time to make this happen #what I REALLY want to know is when Ashley wrote the letter #and when she thought about giving it to Beau in game #honestly I just want to know all the things

56 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding On

Ch23: Unnamed, Generic Baked Item

Summary: Fliss picks her wedding dress, whilst Frank has some great inspiration about a birthday present for his future wife…

Warnings: Bad language, 18+, Smut (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is totally dedicated to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork . But it’s still a f**kin’ biscuit!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 22

“Mary, enough!” Frank’s voice rose and Mary glared at him, folding her arms.

“This is so unfair!” She exclaimed and Frank took a deep breath as he fed Alex another spoonful of porridge.

“You know what? You might think that, and I’m not even digging into the reasons why you’re wrong, but Fliss is already nervous enough about today and you kicking up a fuss over it is not going to help,” Frank levelled her with a look, “so get it out of your system right now, because if you’re still moaning when she comes down the stairs, you and me are going to fall out. Big time.”

Mary blinked, and then frowned. “What’s she nervous about? She’s only picking a dress.”

“Because it’s her wedding dress. It’s a big deal.”

“Which is why I wanna go!”

“And it’s also why you’re not!” Frank shot back, turning and feeding Alex some more as the baby had started to protest due to his dad’s attention being elsewhere. “Stack, you got bored within twenty minutes when they took you for your bridesmaid dress last week, so no, you’re staying here.”

“But-“

“It’s not open for debate,” Frank’s voice dropped even further, the warning tone unmistakable, “but feel free to carry on, see where it gets you.”

Mary was saved the trouble of responding as, at that point, Alex gave a loud yell and the bowl of porridge Frank had been feeding him from was knocked from his hands and landed all over the leg of his jeans. There was a pause, as Frank glanced down at the slop spreading over his thigh before he looked at Alex whose eyes were watering and seconds later a loud wail of frustration at the lack of food burst from his son’s mouth.

“For fffff sake, why?” Frank groaned, cutting the swear word short as he ran his hand through his messy hair, shaking his head.

“You know, I’m not much of one for all that fate and philosophy stuff,” his mother spoke as she walked into the kitchen, “but this, Frank, really does feel like straight up karma.”

Frank glared at her as he stood up and took the tea towel from the side and wiped at his jeans. “Fuck my life,” he muttered under his breath as Thor happily trotted over to the spilt porridge on the floor, cleaning it up with laps of his large tongue, Fred also hopping down off the seat at the breakfast bar to investigate the coveted, spilt human food.

“Karma for what?” Mary asked, from where she’d successfully manage to distract Alex from his tears by waving his little stuffed lion at him, the baby making grabbing gestures towards it.

“His own spectacular ability to misbehave.” Evelyn looked at Mary as she handed Alex the toy. “You know, he once sat down in the middle of a supermarket and refused to leave because I told him that it was Wednesday and Wednesday does not begin with the letter S”

Mary roared with laughter as Frank tossed the dirty towel into the sink before reaching into the cupboard for another jar of baby porridge.

“Look, that big yellow feathered bastard on Sesame Street told me that day was brought to me by the letter S.” He looked at Evelyn, then to Mary who was still howling with laughter, Alex now joining in, all tears forgotten. “He lied.”

“That was a particularly furious melt down, Francis.” Evelyn grinned and Frank rolled his eyes as he got the replacement porridge ready.

“What did you do?” Mary asked.

“It was your Grandfather that sorted him out, darling. He threw Frank over his shoulder and carried him straight out of the shop. I don’t know what he said or did, but by the time I got back to the car Frank was quiet as a mouse.”

“I think he threatened to feed me to said big yellow feathered bastard.” Frank chuckled as he sat back down and offered Alex another spoon of porridge which the baby eagerly took, making little appreciative noises as he did so. “Did you not notice I never watched another episode?”

“Another episode of what?” Fliss asked, and Frank looked up smiling at her as she crossed the room, Alex’s noises getting more excited as he looked at his momma.

“Sesame Street.” Evelyn supplied as Frank gave Alex another spoon of his breakfast, as Fliss dropped a kiss first on Mary’s head, then Alex’s, before finally pressing one to Frank’s cheek

“I’m not even gonna ask.” She snorted, moving to pour herself a coffee.

“Probably wise.” Mary nodded and at that Frank laughed.

“First sensible thing you’ve said all morning.” He teased, drawing another glare from the ten year old.

“Shut up.”

“Erm, enough.” Fliss looked at her, then to Frank. “The pair of you are worse than he is.” She nodded to Alex and then turned to Evelyn, waving the coffee pot in a silent question.

“Oh, no thanks. I had a tea before.” Evelyn smiled.

At that point, Thor gave a little woof and ran to the utility room, as Verity’s voice rang out in greeting.

“Nanny V!” Mary ran to her, giving her a huge hug as Verity smiled, bending down to give her a hug.

“Hey Pudding!” She beamed, standing up, before she glanced around the room, smiling. “Oh, where’s my little man?”

“I suspect at home on the sofa.” Frank quipped, earning him a light slap round the head as Verity leaned down to give Alex’s head a soft kiss, the baby laughing and grabbing at her hair. Frank hastily un-fisted Alex’s fingers from his Nanna’s auburn locks and handed him the spoon to play with instead.

“You ready?” Verity asked, looking at Fliss. She nodded, taking a large gulp of coffee before setting the mug down on the side.

“I’ll just go grab my purse.”

As Fliss left the room, Frank looked at Verity. “She’s nervous. A little overwhelmed I think.”

“Yeah, well it’s getting nearer and this is a big deal to most girls.” Verity smiled. “Plus, we all know she didn’t get to choose her last one so…”

“Well, let’s do what my mother did to me.” Evelyn smiled, as she looked up from where she’d been examining her lipstick in a pocket mirror. “Ply her with enough champagne and make it fun. She’ll be fine.”

Verity smiled and Frank rolled his eyes. “The last time you two plied her with champagne she barfed all over the bedroom.”

“Well,” Verity smirked, “that’s your problem now, not mine. Lord knows I’ve cleaned up enough of her and Steve’s drunken messes in my lifetime.”

“Thanks V.” Frank nodded seriously. “Thanks, a lot.”

*****

Fliss took a deep breath, zoning out as she rifled through a rack at the back of the room. Verity, Evelyn, Bonnie and Sian were all chatting away behind her but it was merely background noise as she scanned dress after dress, nothing catching her eye.

“Have you any idea on what you want?” A soft voice behind her made her jump and she turned to see the assistant, a slight, grey haired woman called Sofia who had been assigned to help them today.

“Nope.” Fliss sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m totally useless.”

Sofia laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it Miss Gallagher, a lot of women come in with either no ideas at all or tonne of ideas that don’t work out. If you don’t know what you want, do you know what you don’t want?”

“Yeah, that’s easy.” Fliss nodded. “I don’t want anything huge, or full of tulle or, you know-” she held her arms out to the side. “-princess bride like. Did that last time, hated it.”

“In that case we can completely ignore these two racks!” Sofia smiled and Fliss grinned as she allowed the woman to lead her a little further round the room. “And that’s half the battle. So, have you been anywhere else before here?”

“Two other boutiques.” Fliss nodded. “And I found nothing.”

“You know, most people think it’s all easy and fun hunting for dresses but, well, I know when I was looking it was so stressful!”

“You’re not wrong.” Fliss stopped at one dress which had caught her attention. It was a plain, off white colour with a simple skirt and bodice with a little beaded detail and chunky straps. “I kinda like the cut of this one.”

“Ah, a trumpet cut.” Sofia supplied, nodding.

“But I don’t know about the neckline, it’s a little…”

“Boring.” Sofia smiled as Fliss snorted. “But, we’ll take it for reference.” The woman lifted it off the rack, placing it onto the rail she’d wheeled alongside them. “So where are you getting married?”

“St Pete’s Public Access.” Fliss smiled. “Which is another reason I don’t want a huge dress. I’ll melt.”

Sofia laughed. “Not to mention the sand getting stuck in it.” She grinned. “Okay, what about this one?”

She lifted a similar cut dress off the rail, this one with a slightly more detailed neckline and Fliss nodded. “Yeah, I quite like that.”

“And this one.”

As Sofia held up the third dress, Fliss paused, tilting her head to one side. “I love the back of this.” Sofia gushed, turning it round. “It’s so detailed.”

“It’s beautiful.” Fliss smiled, her hand reaching out to brush the detailed lace as she studied the garment in front of her.

“Oh, wow!” She heard her mum say and she turned to look at her, then Bonnie who held up the bottle of champagne, Fliss handing over her now empty glass. “Lissy, that’s stunning!”

“It’s gorgeous isn’t it?” Fliss beamed, taking the refilled glass off Bonnie with a thanks.

“The detailing.” Evelyn mused, before she looked at Sofia. “Is that a Nicolle Miller by any chance?”

“Yes.” Sofia looked at Evelyn, frowning, and Fliss turned her head to look at her future mother-in-law, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s from Massachusetts.” Evelyn smiled. “I’ve seen a few of her dresses from time to time, they’re quite recognisable if you know what you’re looking for.”

“My fiancé’s from Boston.” Fliss informed, and Sofia’s mouth made a little O of understanding before she smiled.

“Well, if that isn’t a sign then I don’t know what is.” She beamed. “Would you like to see it on?”

Fliss bit her lip, before she looked at her mum her gave her a huge smile. With a grin on her face, and for the first time that day, a feeling of excitement in her stomach she nodded. Handing her champagne over to Bonnie, she followed Sofia into the changing room at the back, and was soon out of her denim shorts and t-shirt, stepping into the dress. Sofia came in to help her do it up, and it wasn’t even half way fastened before Fliss simply knew this was what she wanted, not even caring it was the first one she’d tried on. Nothing was going to come close to this.

“It’s a little big, around the bust so just give me a second.” Sofia moved to the back of the cubicle and picked up a few clothes pegs, tugging the dress around so it fit right and Fliss smiled, smoothing her hands down over her stomach as she stood, admiring it.

It was hard to guess at the actual shape as its bottom dabbled somewhere between a trumpet and mermaid cut. Her hips were accentuated by the firm fitting cream colored, hand stitched floral lace sewn into a nude overlay. Her back and side panels were completely different. The creamy lace design covered her back and sides with just her soft and delicate skin underneath, the nude underlay that covered her breasts and behind a near match to her skin. It hugged her curves perfectly, the lace covered her shoulders and down her chest in a two finger width and came together in a beautiful heart shape neckline, showing off her delicate décolletage shoulders. It kissed her skin, allowing enough cleavage but much to the imagination as it elegantly, and yet still incredibly sexy, covered her body.

It was something Fliss would never have dreamed of getting married in before but now, well, it felt right. It felt like her.

She took a shaky breath, her vision swimming with tears before she locked eyes with Sofia in the mirror, the older woman giving an appreciative nod. “It looks gorgeous, Honey!” She then handed Fliss a tissue and Fliss took it, giving a little shake of her head.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t apologise,” Sofia waved her away, “it’s a big thing. Now, you ready to go show the rest of them?”

Fliss nodded and Sofia gathered up the train of the dress, and Fliss stepped out of the little room and into the main area of the boutique. As she moved into the room, the other four women turned to face her and Verity’s hand immediately flew to her mouth.

“What do you think?” Fliss asked, shyly. “I know it’s the first one I’ve tried on but I don’t think I want to bother with anymore, I love it.”

Bonnie raised her eyebrows, her mouth falling open. “Oh my God, Fliss.” She gasped. “It’s…”

“Stunning.” Evelyn nodded in agreement, as Sian gave a hum.

“Liss, you’ll knock him dead.”

Fliss gave a smile and then looked at Verity. “Mum?”

Verity’s hand was shaking as she moved it down, and she opened her mouth, before she closed it again, taking a deep and shuddering breath, Sian curling her arm round her shoulder.

“Oh, Lissy…” Verity sniffed, her face creasing up as the tears began to slide down her cheeks. Immediately, more tissues were offered as Fliss also felt her eyes watering at the sight of her mum crying in front of her.

“Mum, don’t!” She gave a little laugh and Verity shook her head, dabbing at her eye.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart but I never thought I’d be here with you, trying on dresses as last time…” She stopped herself as Sian gave her a squeeze. “And now seeing you there with that look on your face, in that dress, ready to marry a man you deserve to be with, well, this is all I ever wanted for you.”

By the time Verity had finished there wasn’t a dry eye in the room, even Sofia had shed a tear. Verity stepped forward and carefully pulled her daughter into a hug, before she stepped back, kissing her forehead.

“I love you, my baby girl.” She sniffed. “God, your dad is going to bawl his eyes out when he sees this!”

Fliss smiled, and Sofia then directed her onto a little box before she called over to another woman who headed across the room with a tape measure. As they took a few measurements for the alterations, Fliss was vaguely aware that her Mum and Bonnie were both taking a photo, but in all honesty her eyes were glued to her reflection in the mirror in front of her. And she wasn’t looking at her dress. She was fixated on the huge smile that was on her face, a smile that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop.

****** “Hey, Stack, how about we go outside for a little while?” Frank opened the door to the den. “Alex has gone down for his nap so it’s just us.”

“In a minute, I’m just looking at something.” She replied, her eyes still on her laptop as she lounged on her beanbag, Heartland playing on the TV in the background.

“Come on, you’ve been sat in here for hours.”

“Yeah but this is really cool.” She looked up. “I’ve been tracing Monty’s lineage again for my collage, and then I got looking at Heidi’s and dug into all this cool info on her and the other horses that she was bred from.”

Frank obliged as Mary gestured to him, taking a seat next to her on the floor as she moved the laptop so he could see it.

“So, this is Heidi, ‘Sandybrook Hideaway’.” Mary’s fingers pointed to the box at the left of the screen. “And this is Heidi’s dad, ‘Louella Inschello’ and this is her mom, ‘Tremontano Esmerelda’. I can go even further back and find like her grandparents and great grandparents all the way into the seventies.”

“How come Heidi had the name Sandybrook?” Frank asked. “And not Louella or Tremontano or whatever?”

“It doesn’t work like with humans.” Mary shrugged. “You can’t use people’s prefixes that don’t belong to you when you’re naming a horse. Fliss said that the people who bred Heidi made the prefix Sandybrook because of their farm being near the beach in England, and there was a brook running alongside the fields. That’s what all their horses then became called, Heidi being the first, look…”

She moved the screen along a little, and Frank traced the little line that ran from Heidi’s name to another box. “’Sandybrook Typhoon’, sire- Renkum Renogade, dam- Sandybrook Hideaway…” he trailed off before he looked at Mary. “Heidi had a baby?”

“Yup.” Mary nodded. “Fliss showed me photos of him on their website. He’s huge. And real pretty. He was a big, fancy dressage horse that one her friends used to compete and they kept him at the stud farm to breed from because he was that pretty, but he died three years ago. He broke his leg and couldn’t get better.”

“Ouch.” Frank grimaced.

Mary nodded. “I know. This was his last foal, look. ‘Sandybrook Cleopatra’. She was born in 2017, and check out her mom’s name.”

“Sandybrook Dirty Diana.” Frank smiled, and let out a chuckle as Mary smiled at him as she clicked on a small link which opened up to show a beautiful bay filly with four white socks and a white blaze. Her face markings instantly struck Frank as being very similar to Heidi’s even if she was a different colour.

“So this would mean that this one is Heidi’s granddaughter?” Frank asked.

“Yup.” Mary nodded.

“That’s pretty cool, Stack.”

“Mom thought so too.” Mary grinned. “She showed me how to do it as I wanted to check out Monty’s history. I asked her about Heidi’s and she showed me this and she was like, really smiling when she saw Cleo, she didn’t know they’d had a foal from Typhoon the year he died. And there’s lots of photos of Heidi as a baby too on their history page, and she has a really cool profile.” She took a pause for breath and Frank gently dropped his hand to the back of her head, smiling at her enthusiasm. “They added a bit last week to say she’d died and it’s kinda sad but also kinda nice. They thanked Fliss her for giving her a wonderful home and said there was no one better on the Earth for your horse to be sold to than an Olympic Gold Medal winner.”

“How did they know she’d died?” Frank asked. “Did Fliss call them?”

“She emailed them. She said she had also asked them about Cleopatra.”

“Asked about her? You mean to buy?”

“I think so.” Mary nodded. “She sold Bronson the other month and now Heidi is gone she only has Cap left.”

“Yeah, I know. She mentioned maybe getting another but I didn’t know she’d been looking.”

“I don’t think she has, it’s just because she saw Cleopatra. I mean, it would be cool if she did buy her.” Mary shrugged. “She’s a part of Heidi in a way isn’t she?”

“Yeah, suppose she is.” Frank mused. “So, was Fliss not sure about her then or…”

“She said she liked her.” Mary shrugged. “But she’s not for sale on the website so I don’t know what they said. They might have said no, or maybe it’s because she’s busy. You know what she’s like.”

Frank did, only too well. When it came to buying things for herself to enjoy, Fliss was actually very reserved. She didn’t think twice about buying stuff for the house, or for the family, or her work, but her own, personal things, she seemed to have a real reticence to simply splurge on, and he had a feeling that went back to when she’d been married previously.

As his eyes flicked over the details on the screen, an idea flashed in his head. And it was a crazy one but…

“What do you think she would do if we bought her one for her birthday?” He turned to Mary.

“What, bought her a horse?”

“Yeah.”

“This horse?” Mary pointed at the screen to the picture of the bay mare and Frank nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Probably call you a crazy asshole, start crying and say it’s the best present ever.” Mary looked at him and Frank chuckled.

“I can live with that.”

“You know, you better hurry up if you’re gonna do it. Mom’s birthday is like, weeks away!”

“It’s not until the end of July.” Frank replied. “We got nearly two months. Do you not think that will be enough time?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never shipped a horse over here from England!” Mary scoffed, before they shared a look, almost identical expressions of realisation crossing their faces as they instantly realised they both knew someone who had. “Poppa Bill!” Mary stated excitedly. “He’ll help!”

“Sure he will.” Frank nodded. “Right, you better get me the email address, Stack. And not a word of this to Mom okay? This is top secret.”

“What do you take me for?” Mary looked at him indignantly and Frank looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You really want me to answer that?”

Mary pondered for a moment before she snorted. “Not really.”

******

“So, did you have a nice time today?” Frank asked as they lay in bed later that night.

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled, snuggling further into his chest as his hand gently ran up and down her arm, his fingers softly tickling her skin. “I did.”

“Good.” He kissed her head. “I’m glad. You were so worried about it all.”

“That obvious, huh?” She sighed and Frank chuckled.

“To me, yeah.” He shifted a little to look down at her. “But that’s only because I know you so well.”

“I didn’t know what to expect.” She shrugged. “I was just a little overwhelmed at the thought, you know, of having to make the decision but when we got to the first shop, I dunno, I kinda realised that I’ve been making decisions about our wedding all along. And, when it came down to it, it wasn’t really that much different to when we picked your suit.”

Frank chuckled. “To be fair, Sweetheart, we’d been in the shop all of five minutes before you spotted the one you liked.”

“Hey, it wasn’t just me.” She protested, tilting her head to look at him. “You liked it too.”

“I do.” Frank agreed. “But I saw the look on your face when you saw it which is what completely sold it to me.”

A lightweight wool three piece suit dyed a stunning steel blue shade had fit Frank expertly. It made his eyes pop and the crisp white button down underneath offered a nice contrast. But what made Fliss fall for the ensemble was the tie. The flash of burgundy, sand, white and grey stood out against the white dress shirt with the stripes of blue pulling in the blue of the three piece. The tailor suggested a printed silk pocket swath with polka dots and paisley printed against a deep blue background.

Frank caught Fliss’ eye in the mirror as the tailor straightened the back of his jacket and arched his brow. She hastily released her lip from between his teeth and gave him a little sheepish look, and he bit back the snort at the fact he’d just caught her looking at him in the way she usually did when she was feeling a little bit ‘frisky’ for want of a better word.

“But I’m clean.” Frank joked, causing the tailor to look up a little, puzzled expression on his face and Fliss laughed.

“Yeah, well this is clearly your Professor look, not the dirty boat daddy one.”

At that the tailor scooted off, Frank watching him go before he turned to Fliss and shook his head. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

She shrugged and smiled as she looked him up and down appraisingly, stepping forward and smoothing her hands up the lapels of the jacket. “You look incredibly handsome, babe.”

Frank gave her a smile and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You almost sound surprised.”

“Not at all.” Fliss shook her head.

A cough from the tailor interrupted them as he had returned with a shoe box and Frank gave him a nod as Fliss stepped back. Once he had laced up the shiny, burnt brown oxfords, Frank moved again to take in the final, finished look and took a deep breath, smiling.

He liked it. A lot.

“So basically, you picked the first suit you tried on and I picked the first dress I tried on.” Fliss snorted and Frank shrugged. “We’re getting married on the beach, having what is basically a barn dance with food trucks…are we taking any of this seriously?”

“Nope.” Frank shook his head and Fliss laughed again as he moved, rolling her a little so she was on her back and he was hovering over her. “But, I think both of us have taken life far too seriously for far too long enough, time for a little fun.”

“Well that fills me full of confidence since we’re writing our own declarations.” She teased and Frank arched his brow.

“You’re talking to an ex Philosophy Professor-”

“Assistant-“

“Whatever, the point is, I’m very good with words.” Frank smirked and Fliss scoffed. “I got you to go on a date with me, didn’t I?”

“That wasn’t down to your words.” Fliss shook her head.

“No? Was it my devastating good looks?”

“That and the fact you’re basically the best man I’ve ever met.” Fliss smiled. “Well, apart from my dad. And Steve. So you’re definitely in the top three best men I’ve ever met.”

Frank laughed and took a deep breath, before he moved, propping himself up a little on his elbow, brushing Fliss’ hair back off her face. “Joking aside, marrying you is something I’m taking very seriously. I can’t wait to say ‘I do,’ get that ring on your finger and finally call you my wife as well as the mother of my kids. But the minute that bit is done then, all bets are off. No stuffy formalities, no pointless, boring traditions, well, apart from the ones we decide we wanna uphold and absolutely no vowing to obey,” he looked at her as she took a breath, “which is a relief because, frankly, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being bossed around.”

Fliss smiled, knowing full well what he was saying. That vow had been one that John had insisted on, and whilst she had never raised the issue to Frank directly, because in all honestly she didn’t feel she needed to, the fact he’d picked up on the way she’d subtly opted for the other vows when they’d had to pick them for the official, made her heart swell in her chest.

“So, I err, I also had another off the wall idea.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I know we said we weren’t gonna give each other presents and stuff for the wedding, but, I thought…actually, forget it.”

“No, come on tell me.”

“No, it’s…”

“Liss!” He said, looking at her and she sighed, her eyes moving away from his, scanning the inked words just below his collar bone.

“Tatoos.” She whispered, looking back at him. “I thought, well, that we could get one each. Not matching as such, but you know, for each other.” Frank blinked and she snorted. “See it’s a dumb idea, I just really want another and well, that was another thing I was never allowed, and-”

“I didn’t say it was dumb.” Frank cut her off, shaking his head. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about getting another for a couple of months now, I want one for Alex, so having one for you too, well then I’ve got a full set.”

She smiled, her fingers reaching up and tracing the Taurus on his bicep, Mary’s star sign. “What you thinking of getting for Bean?”

“The time of his birth, and the date underneath all in Roman numerals. On my other arm.”

Fliss beamed. “I love that.” She pondered. “I thought about one for the kids too, maybe on my wrist but I don’t know what yet.”

“Well, l can speak to Jake.” Frank kissed her nose. “He’s fucking sweet at art, tell him what we want he’ll draw us a couple of designs and then we can go to the place I got my last one done and book in.” He paused. “So, where you gonna get the one for me?”

“Well, I errr think, I mean if-” She paused, looking at Frank as he waited for her answer and she realised that for a split second she’d been about to ask his permission. But as he simply looked at her, she licked her lips and smiled. She didn’t need to ask, she could just tell him. “I know exactly where I’m going to have it.”

“Show me.”

“So bossy.” She smirked, pushing on his shoulders and making him sit up. Biting her lip she lifted her cami top up a little, her hand pushing up her left breast and she traced the area underneath, just along her rib cage. “Only you will really see it then, well, other than when I’m in a bikini, I suppose.” She stopped talking as she spotted the familiar darkening in Frank’s eyes as he took her in, his eyes sliding up her frame to meet hers. She bit her lip, smiling as he crawled back over her, pushing her back onto the bed a little, her top still hitched up.

“You know,” his hands gently slid up her side, fingers tracing the spot she was talking about, “that area is supposedly quite sensitive.”

“Really?” She whispered, her eyes closing.

“Hmmhmmm.” He hummed, dropping his head, placing a soft kiss just there, and her breath hitched, before she emitted a soft little squeak as Frank’s lips were replaced by his teeth when he gave a soft nip. “Oh, yeah, definitely sensitive. You’re gonna need someone to hold your hand.”

“Luckily I know just the guy.” She sighed, his mouth now trailing a path across her body to her sternum.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll take Steve.”

“You really want your brother there when someone’s tattooing under your boob?” At that she stilled and looked down at him. He paused, his chin resting in between her breasts and he gave her a quizzical look. “What?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“With what? Your brother being-“

“No, idiot!” She slapped his head lightly and he gave an ow of protest. “I mean with me having it there? I mean, if it means the guy there’s gonna see-“

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then, yeah, I don’t give a shit.” He shrugged, his lips returning to her skin. “Now, can you shut up and let me give you an orgasm?”

“Just one?” Her voice was a breathy whisper as his lips traced their way up her neck and he gave a little growl, nipping at her jaw.

“Greedy bitch.” He mumbled, causing her to chuckle a little, before his lips met hers in a heated kiss. Her hands snaked into the back of his short hair, nails scratching his scalp a little as his tongue curled against hers in dominating swipes, a rumble in the back of his throat flowing into her mouth.

His hands curled around her hips, before they slid upwards and grasped at the top she was wearing which was bunched unevenly up around her chest. He pulled back and Fliss sat up a little to allow him to yank it off and he tossed it carelessly behind him, where it dropped somewhere onto the bedroom floor. His lips crashed back to hers with an urgency she met back movement for movement. Frank shifted, nudging her legs further apart with his knees, so he could settle in between them, his lips moving back to her jaw, down her neck, moving himself downwards, taking his time and lavishing affection all the way down her body. His hands curled round her knees as his nose skimmed below her bellybutton and he placed a soft kiss onto her tummy before he felt her tugging on his hair.

“Frankie, I want you.”

He peeked up at her, and arched a brow. “I thought you wanted more than one?”

“Changed my mind.”

“Fickle.” He muttered, as he sat up, pulling down her sleep shorts before he discarded his boxers, kicking them down his legs. He gently nipped at the inside of her thigh before he brushed his cheek and beard up her leg, smirking as he heard a tiny mewl from above. With a pace that was agonisingly slow he moved back upwards, his hands moving up the side of her body as he went, gently moving across, thumbs brushing over each of her nipples which were pebbled in anticipation. Fliss arched her back, inhaling sharply as her groin bumped against his, dragging a low grumble from his throat as she twitched underneath him, pressed up against where she needed him most. Taking her hands in his, his thumbs skated over her knuckles before he interlocked their fingers and pressed her hands down on the pillow next to her head.

“God, you’re beautiful." He mumbled leaning down and running his nose alongside hers before kissing her deeply. Fliss gave a little preen of delight at his praise, and he broke the kiss, his lips remaining on hers. “My perfect, Lissy.”

She responded by kissing him hard, a kiss which was broken when he slowly pushing inside her in a gentle, fluid moment, eliciting a moan from them both. He drew back a little and then thrust forward deeply, before he kissed her again, his hips finding a languid, rocking rhythm, his bottom lip nibbling on hers. Fliss rolled her body up taking him deeper, moans and gasps slipping freely into each other’s mouths as he slowly built up his rhythm, his fingers curling around hers tightly as he watched her, felt her shudder as he hit her spot again and again with every rut of his hips until she was writhing underneath him, begging him not to stop.

And he didn’t, not until he’d dragged two orgasms from her, and he’d almost managed a third when he knew he couldn’t fight off his own release any longer. With a whimper that was almost pathetic, he slowed down, his hand dropping between them to stroke at her sensitive nub, and with a hoarse sob she bucked violently as she came again, her walls tightening around him and with a choked cry of her name he let go, his release coating her walls and he throbbed inside of her as she pulsed around him. His elbows gave way and he pitched forward, his sweaty brow pressing into the crook of her neck as his chest heaved, both of them completely spent.

Fliss happily welcomed his weight on top of her as he caught his breath, both of them trembling in the afterglow. She flexed her fingers and he let go of her hands, and she slid her arms round him, fingers dancing up his spine. Frank gave a soft hum of contentment as he lazily raised his head, catching her mouth in a soft kiss before his nose bumped against hers.

He was in no rush to move, which suited Frank fine as he lay there, on top of her, slow kisses being traded before eventually he pulled back and she gave him a soft smile, which lit up her entire face.

“Was that enough for you?” He asked cheekily and she laughed, swatting at his back with her hand.

*****

The next week or so passed in a whirl of work and overseeing the construction at the yard. Frank was still mad busy, but he’d pushed his nagging feelings about his job to the back of his mind. He and Fliss had talked about it at length and he’d decided to wait until the wedding was done before he made a final decision. Whilst Fliss had told him she’d support him either way, he didn’t want to throw his career into turmoil whilst they had so much going on.

The yard expansion was progressing to schedule, despite a pretty nasty storm which had initially set them back a day or so, but Frank had to hand it to the guys Bill had recommended, they’d pulled the lost time back. And, to top it all off, he’d even managed to finish the final mechanical works to his boat, which meant now all he had to do was the cosmetic work. For that, he was happy to let Bill help, his future father-in-law very eager to lend a hand on Friday evenings, especially when the job came with a steady supply of beer.

It was win-win as far as Frank was concerned. Fliss and her mum would sit in the garden, drinking wine, dipping in and out of the pool whilst Mary was at Roberta’s, the four adults taking dinner together, which he always enjoyed, and it also meant he could rope Bill into his master plan for Fliss’ birthday. When he’d first told him his idea, Bill had grown a little emotional, admitting to Frank that seeing him care so much that he want to do something as thoughtful as that for his baby-girl was something he appreciated beyond belief. Frank also consulted Joanne, and between the three of them they now had a pretty watertight plan. Bill was lending Frank the money, for which Frank was grateful for as, whilst Joanne had helped him to the negotiating on the price for the animal, the transportation and associated veterinary fees were more expensive than the damned horse herself. Should the overall amount it was going to cost him go missing from their savings, Fliss was going to start asking questions and he wanted it to be a total surprise.

All in all, Frank was as settled and happy as he had felt in months. Life was good, and as the middle of June rolled round, the feeling in the Adler-Gallagher household was as relaxed and as happy as it had ever been.

“Awww you want a biscuit, Baby?” Fliss looked at Alex who was making grabby hands at the one she had in her hand. “Okay, here…”

She snapped the cookie into two and handed him a half. Alex looked at it for a second before he shoved it in his mouth, turning to look at Frank as he walked into the kitchen. The little boy raised his hands making cooing noises before jamming his precious treat back into his mouth.

“Hey, you got a cookie, buddy?” Frank smiled as Alex made a little noise of delight at the taste, and Fliss cleared her throat.

“He has a biscuit.”

Frank looked at Fliss, rolling his eyes before he moved and picked up the packet, pointing to the label.

“They’re cookies, Fliss.”

Fliss groaned. “Cookies are a specific type of biscuit. What he has there is not a cookie!”

“Look, Lissy, you’re gonna confuse the boy.” Frank looked at her. “Poor kid’ll be going to a restaurant and askin’ for a biscuit, expecting cookies, and then they bring him like biscuits and gravy and-“

“Don’t even get me started on those, Francis.” Fliss narrowed her eyes, pointing at him. “They’re not biscuits, they are scones.”

“The hell they are!”

“Oh piss off, Frank!”

Frank gave a loud laugh. “Hang on, are we actually arguing about this right now? Over what we call a certain baked treat?”

Fliss bit into one of the offending items and smirked. “Get it right and we won’t be.”

“You are such a fucking brat at times!” Frank shook his head as Fliss grinned and shrugged.

“So?”

“Just stating a fact, Sweetheart.”

“So am I. They’re biscuits”

“Oh for the love of-look,” Frank once again nudged the packet on the island, “they’re cookies and nothing you say or do is gonna make me call them anything else!”

“Nothing?” Fliss raised her eyebrows.

“Nope.” Frank folded his arms.

“Hmmm.” Fliss took a step towards him, her hands wrapping round his arms, pulling them away from his chest before her palms flattened on his pecs, smoothing up to his shoulders. “Call them biscuits, Sailor, and I’ll go down on you so fast you can’t even remember your own name.”

“They’re biscuits.” Frank replied immediately, the second she played that card, he didn’t give a shit what the hell they were called.

Fliss laughed, her hands sliding up round his neck. “Like I said, brains are in your dick.”

“Yeah, and now my dick’s gonna be in your mouth, Cowgirl.” Frank shot back, causing Fliss to snort. “Better get to it, I need to go pick Mary up in ten.”

“Hmmm, yeah, I didn’t specify when.” Fliss patted his chest and stepped back as Frank blinked, before he shot her a playful glare.

“You fight dirty.”

“Oh, Sailor.” Fliss tossed her hair over her shoulder as she moved back to the kitchen to move their used breakfast dishes from the sink to the dishwasher. “You should know this by now.”

“So, you basically expect me to drive down to St Pete’s now with a semi hard-on?”

Fliss looked at him. “It’s your own fault?”

“How is it my fault?” Frank laughed, incredulously.

“If you’d have just agreed I was right in the first place, then you wouldn’t have a problem.”

Frank blinked before he shook his head, turning to Alex. “Your momma’s logic blows my mind, Bean.”

“That’s the only thing that’s getting blown, Fliss quipped and at that Frank let out a loud laugh, “for now.”

She shot him another look over her shoulder and Frank groaned, knowing full well that if he didn’t leave he was going to end up pounding her over the kitchen island. And, as tempting as that was, he had places to be.

“Come on, Son.” Frank unclipped Alex from the seat. “Let’s go get your sister.” He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the packet. “Here, have another unnamed, generic baked item for the trip.”

**** Chapter 24

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #frank adler smut #frank adler fic #frank adler fanfiction #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

125 notes · View notes

pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

Text

Thicker Than Water (Part 1)

Post-mountain, heavy angst with a happy ending Geraskier, featuring platonic Yennskier and Yennalt. + immortal Jaskier and Ciri getting the family she deserves. PG-13? (Mentions of but no actual sex, brief mention of familial abuse, very very minor character death) This first bit is mostly just Jaskier’s sad reflections post-mountain.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

{AN:This is me (an adhd person) writing Jaskier as adhd, based on my experiences, but my experiences with adhd are not universal, but some of you may recognize Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. Also, because it’s never explicitly stated in the fic, feel free to headcanon him however you like.}

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaskier never got an apology after the mountain. He’d never gotten the rest of the story from the others either, but after everything it didn’t seem all that important. Maybe it never had been.

Twenty-two years.

It wasn’t so long, not when Jaskier knew he had an entire lonely eternity to look forward to. But to be fair, he hadn’t known that twenty-two years ago. He hadn’t even known it last week. It turns out having a very pleasurable liaison with a high priestess who had just so happened to be the mortal vessel for a minor goddess, has its perks. He’d seen her in a bar three nights ago and she’d bought him a cup of milk and asked him how immortality was going.

Of course, he’d thought she was joking. He was pretty heavily into his sixth? seventh? pint of the evening. It was strong stuff and she’d bought him milk to sober up. He just told her his skin care must be working and she explained that, yes, it was, his skin looked very nice, but no, that wasn’t why he still looked twenty-three.

Then a fan had bought him some rather nice gin and after that he doesn’t remember the evening. He hoped he’d bid the priestess goodbye.

He’d been drinking more lately. Jaskier had never actually had much of a head for drink, preferring to sip a light wine than down things more akin to paint thinner. Now, though, well. It was the mountain, wasn’t it? He’d never taken rejection well. Oh, sure, a potential lover turning him down was one thing, admittedly it stung, but he would never force unwanted affections, and he’d always had a mobile heart, ready to fall in love with someone new. Criticism on his music? That depended, the reasoned, encouraging criticism of a good professor was fine. Nothing else was. He poured his heart and soul into everything he sang, even if it was just a nonsense song or a ditty plucked out on the road. Having it criticized cut straight through him, especially by those he cared about.

The hurt ran deeper though. The youngest son of a minor noble, with two big, strong, fighting brothers and one sickly but pretty younger sister, Lotte, he’d always been a bit of an odd duck. His brothers had heckled him, but they hadn’t been home often. His father had beat him, but that pain at least was only physical. His mother ignored him. That had hurt. It still hurt, when he thought of it. Lancing through him like a knife of ice. And then Lotte, who had loved his stories and music, had died. A fever took her suddenly in the night and after that Lettenhove held no more light for him. So he left and his father was happy to see him go.

Some things you bring with you. His family had never given him any gifts, but left him with a lifetime of baggage. Their voices in his head telling him he was never good enough, a weakling, a burden. A shit shoveler.

Sometimes a much smaller voice, that sounded a little like Lotte piped up. He was good at music. He brought people joy. But it was so much weaker than the constant barrage of hate.

And now Geralt.

Jaskier wanted to believe that Geralt didn’t hate him, that twenty-two years of grunts and silences meant at least a glimmer of friendship. But how could it? Jaskier’s own family hadn’t wanted him, and here he was, forlorn that after he’d inflicted himself on Geralt for two decades he’d finally been thrown aside. Like the garbage he always had been. He tried not to let himself think about it too much, but somehow the thoughts always found him. Usually at the bottom of a bottle. Or three.

There were no doubts in his mind about Geralt. Jaskier could never believe Geralt a cruel man, not after years of watching him fight dreadful monsters for less coin than chimneysweeps earned. Years of him patiently bearing the worst of people and cleaning up their messes and saving lost baby birds. Jaksier never would have believed it, if not for the testimony of his own two eyes. Geralt had scooped the downy thing up in one massive hand and examined it with such tenderness in his honey-gold eyes that Jaskier wanted to cry. A part of him wished, if only for a moment, that he was the bird, to be cradled in a strong, gentle hand and be the focus of such attentive care. He didn’t wish to be the bird later, when it died. Lost, injured baby birds often do, and Jaskier had played a sad little tune as Geralt buried it carefully.

A man, a witcher, who buried and mourned a baby bird, was not bad. Not a monster or cruel, although sometimes a bit unkind.

At the bottom of bottles and pints Jaskier wanted to hate Geralt, wanted to think him a monster, a butcher, he even wrote it into his songs, a garroter. He couldn’t do it. He found plenty of room to hate himself though.

Every sore point in Geralt’s life, at least those within the last two decades, had indeed been Jaskier’s fault. The banquet? Jaskier had insisted, practically dragged Geralt into a messy political situation, even if it looked like a party on the surface. The djinn? He’d provoked a sleep deprived Geralt and then pouted like a child when his singing was mocked. For Melitele’s sake he’d called Geralt butcher when they’d met. He wondered sometimes why Geralt hadn’t left him to the tender mercies of the djinn. He knew why.

Because Geralt was kind. Not a gentleman, not with the talking to his horse, and the growling, and the (admittedly not that bad) smell. Not a gentleman, but a gentle man.

Geralt had been kind enough to put up with a troublesome bard. A bard who, young and green as he’d been in Posada, would have had his neck slit by bandits or thieves before his twentieth year. He’d pitied Jaskier and let him stick around, putting up with him as no one else had. Not his parents or his brothers, not Valdo, his first love, who’d subsequently cheated on him and laughed at his tears, not even his various dalliances put up with him. A night of pleasure was all he could offer, out the door (or window, or over the hedge) in the morning, lest he burden them with his presence too long and be stabbed by their rejection. Everyone had their breaking point though, and Geralt had reached his after twenty years, as well as a breakup, a dragon man, and Jaskier asking to run away together all within twenty-four hours.

That left Jaksier, lost in a forest with no money and only sad songs to sing, which don’t bring much coin in a world that already knows enough sorrow, two months after the dragon hunt.

Things were bad. For Jaskier and everyone else. He had no money for warm clothes or new boots, and winter was fast approaching. Nilfgaard’s soldiers were looking for him, they stormed everywhere, searching for the White Wolf and his charge, or anyone who might know something. Cintra had fallen, and it’s lioness with it, and Jaskier could only hope that the child surprise, whose name day banquets he’d missed not one, had met her destiny at last.

He hoped his destiny wasn’t skewered on the end of a Nilfgaardian blade.

He couldn’t go to Oxenfurt. They’d look for him there, and he had too many friends whose lives he would endanger as well. Here, on the road, he was anonymous. His fine clothes were dulled with dirt and wear, and his hair was longer, curling at the ends and bout his ears as it was wont to do when he went without a hair cut. He hadn’t shaved in a couple days either. Jaskier hoped he looked dashing, but he suspected he just looked scruffy.

He certainly didn’t look like the famous bard Jaskier, herald of the White Wolf, though, so perhaps it was all for the better.

And then, in the middle of a forest, with the first frosts of autumn on the ground, he met the amethyst eyes of a sorceress.

Fuck.

#geraskier #fanfiction #post-mountain fix it #not yet though #they haven't worked through their emotional trauma yet #tw: alcohol #adhd Jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier

239 notes · View notes

a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Run Away With Me

Synopsis: Every moment shared with Charlie Weasley is an adventure all it’s own. How you wish to spend every moment together and all it takes is to run away.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 6.3k+

A/N - Every year I post a story on my birthday and today’s the day I turn a year older. Usually these stories are pretty sad but this year I wrote something a little softer so here is my birthday present for you guys, I hope you enjoy it.

1. A Stolen Kiss

A bright-eyed and clueless young student, excited to be attending a school of magic. Nobody else in your family had magic so it was a big surprise when you received a letter alongside a weird lady who looked like she just stepped out of the early 1920s. Sat between your parents, the older woman explained the entire situation much to your excitement and your parents' confusion.

Diagon alley had been your first experience of all things magical; it had been like stepping into another world instead of just any old street in London. There were book shops lined with all kinds of books, some were bigger than your head while others were tiny. A shop that sold weird and kinda gross jars full of who knows what. There was a place that only sold brooms but according to the list you had read like a hundred times, first years weren't allowed their own brooms. You spent what felt like a lifetime at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions getting fitted for robes. Your parents were utterly fascinated by all the different styles and kept asking questions that made the experience so much longer than it really needed to be. You'd never had a pet before, but after a lot of begging they let you pick out a cat; he was a small Persian cat. Not quite a kitten but not quite fully grown. Checking off each item as you went along, you were exhausted by the end of it. There was even enough time for a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where you had enjoyed a cone of strawberries and cream with sprinkles on top. All that was left on your list was a wand. Peeling gold letters rested over the door of a shop that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Stepping inside it was a tiny little store with no costumers. Thousands of narrow boxes lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling. It didn't take long for the weird old man to give you a wand that felt warm in your hand. Unlike the other disasters that came at the result of you waving various wands, a stream of red and gold sparks shoot out the end of this one like a mini firework. The wand chooses the wizard whatever the hell that meant. All ready and packed for Hogwarts, you were really giddy to go. Your mother cried as she waved you off to boarding school but you couldn't sit still. The train ride took hours and it was a little lonely considering you didn't know anyone but as soon as you entered the castle you knew it was exactly where you were meant to be. The building was massive and practically oozed magic and mystery through each brick. The pictures, much to your surprise, were moving on their own. Hogwarts had four houses and each student had to sit on a tall stool, put on a funny talking hat which would decide ultimately where they belong.

The very first friend you made was Nymphadora Tonks but only because she was in all of your classes and by some twist of fate you always ended up seated together. She was a sweet girl with pink hair and a talent for mischief. There was never a dull moment with you two. Then there was Charlie Weasley. Ever since that brisk day in October when he had ridden in clumsily on his white horse to save the day, the two of you had been the best of friends. You were still getting used to all your different classes. Potions class, however, was proving the most difficult. Too many ingredients and types to get used to. Not to mention Snape was just... mean. The task had been to prepare a simple Wiggenweld Potion; a powerful healing potion that can be used to heal injuries, or reverse the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The book was open on the desk as you carefully followed the instructions until.... poof. All the confidence you'd gained since arriving disappeared as Snape scolded you in front of everyone for messing up. Charlie had swooped in to take the blame landing himself in late-night detention. On the other hand, you got to leave with your tail between your legs and a few house points shaved off the total. And yet even his small act of kindness wasn't enough to capture your affection at least not at first. For the little version of yourself was infatuated with another Weasley. An older Weasley.

The nerves of a handful of students could be felt by anyone sat in the great hall for breakfast. Tonks is sat beside you running butter over a piece of toast. Stifling a yawn, Charlie takes a seat across from the two of you sporting a jumper of Gryffindor red and gold.

"Good morning," You flash your cheeriest, half-asleep smile bringing your spoon of Cheeri Owls to your lips. "Nervous?"

"A little," He was looking especially pale today suggesting he was more than just a little.

"You should be," Tonks perks up. "It's only the last game of the season and all hope rides on the seeker,"

"No pressure then," Charlie huffs out a dull laugh. The boy excelled in his position as the Gryffindor seeker but there was no way to determine how he'd play today when he was carrying the hopes and dreams of his teammates and entire house.

"You should eat something," You suggest, pushing a bowl of assorted fruit forward. There was little you could to make him feel better except take his spot but that wasn't allowed. You also probably wouldn't be that good. "Might make you feel better?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," He insisted but he still took an apple; rolling the red fruit between his palms.

"Win or lose you're still number one in our heart, right Tonks?" Elbowing her gently, you shovel another spoonful of 'O' shapes into your mouth.

"Sure," she shrugs. "If you want we can jinx the other team's seeker? I've been practising."

"Or... how much time do we have? I can get one of the older students to brew some Felix Felicis." You play along. "Nothing like a little liquid luck to win a game."

"You both know that's not allowed," Charlie took a large bite of his apple.

"When has Tonks ever cared about rules," Sometimes you wish she did care, you probably wouldn't have ended up in detention so many times alongside her.

"Thanks but no," he took another bite. "We have to win fair and square."

The conversation drifted from nerves to lost spells and planned practical jokes. Charlie seemed to relax a little the more he spoke. Maybe all he needed was a distraction to cheer him up.

"We need to take a trip to Hogsmeade" Tonk announces. "I'm out of dungbombs."

"Urgh- you and that silly joke shop." You can't help but roll your eyes but it was all good-natured. Despite hardly ever buying anything yourself, you spent an awful lot of time at Zonko's infamous little joke shop. "I could do with a trip outside the castle though. You should come too Charlie and maybe... you could ask Bill if he wants to come?"

"You're still gushing over Bill," Now it was Tonks turn to elbow you playfully, her lips curling up into a tantalising smirk.

"I do not gush over him," you state firmly, brows knitting together in a frown. You didn't appreciate being made fun. Bill was older, wiser and always made time to show you kindness. He made your little heart flutter whenever you saw him and Tonks took every opportunity to tease you about it. "I just thought It'd be nice is all. Wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

"If you want him to come, ask him yourself." He responds, taking a large gulp of his juice.

"She won't because she has a crush."

"I don't have a crush Nymphadora- stop it," It was infinitely more embarrassing talking about this with Charlie sat at the table. "Don't ask him then, I don't care."

"Yes you do," Placing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you into her side. "Because you're in love-"

"I am not!" You snap, pushing out of her grip.

"I'll see you guys later." The two of you share a look as Charlie disappears without another word. It was probably just pregame nerves.

"You know what? I think I'll get some frogspawn soap too and put it in the prefects' bathroom." Typical Tonks.

You'd come to learn through your time at Hogwarts that Quidditch was the most popular sport among wizards. And each house had their own team who compete for a trophy and bragging rights. Today was the final game thankfully. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Apparently, it came down to these two a lot. As the Gryffindor team filter out of the changing rooms, you slip inside to find Charlie sitting on a little bench.

"Guess who?" You sing-song, slapping your hands over his eyes but only briefly. He turns to look at you with an almost sour expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you," you reply soft, offering a smile he couldn't even see as he turned away.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Had you done something to upset him? Surely not. This was the first time you were seeing him since breakfast so there hadn't been a moment for you to mess things up and yet, his voice held an icy chill.

"Guess Tonks is rubbing off on me?" You jest, looking around the room. It was empty apart from you two. Bags and clothes scattered across benches or half shoved into lockers. A chalkboard stood in the corner with drawings you couldn't understand. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before the big game, is all. We were worried about you."

"You were worried about me," He repeats slowly, looking up at you. "I thought you hated quidditch."

"I still do," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "It's silly. Doesn't matter how hard the team works or how many goals it's pretty much all decided by how good the seeker is so why even have goals?"

"Score enough goals before the snitch is caught and anyone could win," He perks up. "You just don't understand how good and exciting it is."

Your lips curl up in appreciation for Charlie Weasley and his love for quidditch. It didn't possess the sparkle that came along when he talks about dragons but it was still nice to see him liven up. "Then go out there and show me how exciting it is,"

You stand under the spotlight of his gaze as he seemingly takes in your choice of attire; wearing the Gryffindor colours with pride to show your support. You even let Tonks paint your face after she promised not to draw genitalia. "Do you really think we're gonna win? What if I mess up and everyone hates me?"

"Then you mess up and everyone hates you," You shrug a little. "But that's not gonna happen and you know why?" His head shakes slowly. "It's because you're the best seeker at this school Charles Weasley." You place your hands on either side of his shoulders. "And I believe in you."

"How does that help me?" With your index finger under his chin, you force him to meet your eyes.

"Because I'm never wrong."

"That doesn't sound right." He tries to look away but you stop him.

"But it is," You offer a reassuring smile; one full of determination. "You've got this Charlie. So come on before you miss the game entirely."

The cheers outside were seemingly growing louder by the second. With a deep breath, Charlie stands up, grabbing his broom. "You're staying to watch, right?"

"Of course. Tonks is up in the stands too." Taking his hand, you lead the way out of the tent. "Consider us your good luck charms." Charlie brings the both of you to an abrupt stop before you even reach the opening of the tent, pulling you back to him. "What's up?"

The peppering of freckles that covered Charlie's face was even more vibrant against the rose pink blush. You squeeze his hand a little hoping it makes him feel better. And then it happens. The crowd grows silent in your ear but only for a moment as Charlie's surprisingly soft lips crash clumsily against yours. "For good luck," his whispers; his hand slipping from yours as he leaves you dumbfounded.

"He okay?" Tonks asks as you return from your trip.

"Yeah... still nervous," You reply, sitting down beside her. "It's his first big game after all."

"Are you okay?" The crowd erupts into cheers as the Gryffindor team flys in first. You're almost too embarrassed to look for Charlie; worried about what you might find so you keep your head down. "You look like you've just seen a troll or something?"

"Mhmm," you hum, forcing yourself to watch the Slytherin team as they enter. Why had Charlie kissed you? Did it mean he liked you or was he just messing around? Your head swirled with possibilities.

"You want a sweet?" Your friend offers as the game finally starts. It takes you a second to register but you smile, reaching into the little bag she was holding only to come to a stop.

"They're not gonna burn my tongue off or something are they?"

"No," Her chuckle sounded a little too innocent but you trust her for some reason. Taking a piece of confectionery out of the paper bag.

"Charlie... kissed me." You announce, throwing the sweet into you mouth; face scrunching up when they turn out to be sour. Ten points to Slytherin as they take the lead.

"He what?"

"He... kissed me."

2. Together

Who was Bill Weasley but a distant playground crush after that day. And your time of classrooms and magic lessons came swiftly to an end; how bittersweet it felt to leave a place you loved dearly. A once naive little girl stepping into the unknown now called the Wizarding World Home. Now you would go on to be a healer which was simply a magical doctor although your parents strongly disagreed with the comparison. However proud they were of you there would always be some part of them that wished you had chosen to become a lawyer or 'real' doctor.

Bathed in the warm embrace of the setting sun, you ponder the tranquility in a bed of green grass. The youngest Weasley lay beside you, struggling to keep still as often children do. She was similar to her brother in that way who now paced back and forth a mere few steps away. The invitation had been for dinner but you arrived a little early. The burrow was always such a welcoming place like stepping into a home you used to live in many moons ago; it was cosy and warm and there was no doubt that many lived there. You found your house to be almost the opposite, it always looked like nobody lived there. Immaculate. Polished. Cold.

"Will you stop pacing, you're making me nervous." You call out to your boyfriend, opening your eyes only to squint at the bright light. "What's wrong with you?"

Charlie comes to a stop as you sit up; Ginny mimics you in sitting up but the boy's eyes stay on you. The longer he stared, the more the pit in your stomach grew; what exactly hid behind his blank expression. He normally possessed such a playful warmth but it seemed to have vanished as of late. Plucking a stray purple flower, you enclose it in the palm of your hands. "You know I love dragons right?"

"Of course," Since meeting him, he had probably managed to slip dragons into every conversation you had ever had. It was at a point where you knew far more about dragons than you ever really cared to know. Many found his obsession annoying because that's what he so obviously was, obsessed but you found it enticing. Charming, even. Opening up your hand, a small butterfly with deep plum-purple wings flutters into the air and onto a giggly Ginny's nose. The innocent glee of a child; how those days were gone for you. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" It would be foolish to make such a promise when there was no way to guarantee your reaction. Whatever it was must be bad, if he was this worried. Your shoulders rise a little then fall.

"I make no such promises- just tell me."

Charlie took a breath that travelled on the wind to your ears before he blurted out. "I'm moving to Romania."

"Okay," Is your first reaction while your brain tries to make sense of something it didn't want to hear. "Wait- what?"

"Charlie is moving away to work with big scary dragons," Ginny announces playfully, baring her little hands like claws.

The once small pit grew into a mighty black hole of uncertainty and sadness that threatened to swallow you whole. There had been conversations shared between friends of Charlie wanting to move away to a foreign land, just to finally see a dragon but you had never taken it at face value. Always so convinced it was but a dream rather like those of when you were little and you wished to be a vampire. Technically back then you didn't know they actually existed but still, even now it was never going to come true. Eyes cast upon the second eldest Weasley, he kicks up the grass with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's the nearest Dragon reserve."

That was something you already knew but it didn't make the decision, at least in your eyes, any less confusing. Instead, it prompted water to well up in your eyes for this was something that affected not only him and his family but your life too. "I... I don't know what to say,"

"Hey Ginny, can you go check if dinner's ready yet?"

"No- why can't you do it?" The bark behind her words was very in character for the fiesty young Weasley. Blinking away the tears, you plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"If you go check on dinner I promise we can play a game later, okay? Exploding snap maybe?"

"Really?" She eyes you suspicious probably because it was a promise you had broken before. Not always for the right reasons but this time it was genuine. Charlie clearly wanted this to be a private conversation or perhaps he was just saving you for the inevitable moment where she asks why you're crying. Ginny scrambles to feet when you nod and skips off towards the gravity-defying house. It still amazed you that the building hadn't fallen yet. Rising to your feet you brush yourself off.

"You know I want nothing more than to work with Dragons and this is the only way I can do that," There was no mistaking the serious tone that came along with his words. It didn't matter what you said there was no changing his mind but you wouldn't do that anyway. It seemed cruel to even try to get him to give up on something so precious and you would never want to do that to him. "I have an opportunity to do something I love and I won't waste it to get some boring job at the ministry."

"I don't expect you too..." You wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay; beg him even. You were fighting against the selfish little devil that was stabbing you in the heart. It was a dull, deep pain in your chest. You wanted Charlie to follow his dreams, you just never expected them to not include you. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," The red-headed boy walks ever so slowly over to you, taking both hands in his. His hands had always felt a little rough ever since Hogwarts. You used to complain back then and insist he needed to moisturise but over time you had grown fond of the familiarity. How you wished this tender moment could last forever because it very well might be your last. You're caught off guard when he yanks you forward. You stumble into his chest where he wraps his arms around you like the big teddy bear he was. You breathe in every inch of him like it was the last time. The intoxicating aroma of an early walk in the woods; that fresh earthy smell that really makes you appreciate where you are. You could almost picture the pine trees.

"I feel like I'm losing you," Your words but a whisper, lost on the breeze.

"You're not," His grip around you tightens and suddenly your in the air, spinning around. "You could never get rid of me that easily.

"Charlie," You fight back a smile as you return to the ground; burying your face in the nook of his neck. "What's gonna happen to us?"

"About that-"

"Because I don't know if I can do the whole long-distance thing? So do we break up?" The tears threaten to fall once again as you pull back to get a good look at him. You never wanted to forget the emerald of his eyes or each and every freckle that called his body home. The unusual scare that adorned his eyebrow that was always amusing to look at. If that was his true purpose to break up with you then there would be no stopping the tears when they finally burst through the damn.

"No, I-"

"Because that's a little mean Charlie, you could have at least waited until after dinner. Should have done it first actua-"

You words become mumbled by the palm of his hand which he's placed over your mouth like a seal of protection. "Shush for a minute."

It's hard to resist so you simply don't; sticking your tongue you deliberately lick the palm of his hand but it seems to not phase him whatsoever.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly," You meet his gaze. "I was kind of thinking you could come with me?"

Reaching up, you yank his hand away. "To Romania? You've got to be joking."

"Why not?"

Did you even know how to answer that? There were so many reasons why one should not just up and leave to go live in a completely different country with the boy they dated through high school. "I can't just up and leave my family- my mum will be devastated."

"I'll talk to her about it," Charlie hums softly, placing a delicate kiss upon your forehead. "Your mum loves me and she wants you to be happy."

"Dinner's Ready," For such a small girl, Ginny had one big mouth. There was no mistaking her call. However, this whole situation now felt a little... off. Could you even sit through dinner without it all becoming weird?

"We're coming," Charlie yells back; offering up his hand which you reluctantly take and he leads the way back to the house. "You want to be a healer right? You could do that in Romania."

"I guess," You weren't exactly worried about not finding a job.

"You don't have to decide right now," He tells you before you have a chance to speak up again. "Just think about it. I mean the invitation is there and for what it's worth, I'd really like you to come."

3. Creeping doubts

It took a lot of convincing but despite everything you decided to follow Charlie into the Unknown. Your parents weren't thrilled with the decision but they respected it; they were just worried about what would happen if something went wrong. And as their only child, they would obviously miss you. A lot of time was spent at the burrow that summer before moving to Romania; you were beginning to feel like an honorary Weasley only with the experience of having been a muggle for the first eleven years of your life. It was but a three-hour flight to Romania and your mother had sobbed at the airport. It made you think back to your first time stepping onto the Hogwarts express, leaving your parents behind to go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. It was a peculiar thought but a nice one. One you wished to cherish. Now in a foreign land with no support system behind you other than a boy you had been dating for years, you were ready for a new adventure. And there was officially no doubt in your mind that you would do just about anything for Charlie Weasley.

"It's not much," Charlie sets his suitcase down on the table. "Best I could do, for now, I'm afraid."

"It's fine," It was an old apartment in a building full of what you assumed were muggles. There was a small living room area with an ugly pea-coloured couch nestled against one wall. Beside it was a small coffee table and on the other side of the room was a TV, you weren't convinced actually worked. Then there was the kitchen which was attached to the living room. It had a fridge, a cooker and some cupboards. The only other room was a bedroom that literally only housed a bed in at the moment, then there was a door that leads on to the bathroom. It definitely wasn't much but a crappy apartment was just part of the experience, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself. "it'll feel like home soon enough," You had everything you needed to make this place feel like home right in your suitcase; oh the joys of magic. Patting yourself down, you search for the key to easy unpacking. "Uh... have you seen my wand?"

His head shakes and wears an amused grin. "You remembered to bring it right?"

"Yes," you huff. "I was gonna unpack," Falling back against the wall, you slide down onto the floor which you imagine hasn't been cleaned in a while considering the dust. "It's gonna take so long without my wand- which may actually be in the suitcase now that I think about it."

"Did you forget I'm a wizard too?"

"You do it then," You drop your head back against the wall. "I'm starving."

"actually have you seen my wand?"

You giggle to yourself "You're an idiot,"

"Hey- you lost your wand too." His shadow lingers over you as he comes to join you against the wall. Taking up a seat beside you, your head falls to rest against his shoulder.

"Can we get pizza? I saw some of those leaflets when we came in so we could order some?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

As time ticks on the pizza box is left discarded in the kitchen as the two of you retire for the night. Who knew not actually unpacking but simply thinking about it while eating pizza on the dirty ground could be so much work. You struggle to hold back a yawn as you snuggle up to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as you can. All that lay across the two of you were a blanket and this building was next exactly the warmest. "Do you think we'll be okay? "You ponder aloud; it was a question that had been on your mind since agreeing to follow him to Romania. For not many people stay together with their high school loves. What if things fall apart now that you're in the 'real' world? What if this was all just a huge mistake?

"What do you mean?" Always such a simple boy; you wonder how he deals with his anxieties. Did he actually not know what you meant or was he merely putting on a brave face? A once proud Gryffindor suggested that he always looked to be brave above anything else.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" You repeat as if that somehow answers his question but it must have done something because even in the darkness you can just tell he's smiling.

"You worry way too much." Charlie laughs.

"You don't worry enough,"

He lays a kiss upon the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. "It used to be the other way around."

"I was young and reckless back then. "How you missed the days where you ran around the halls of Hogwarts with reckless abandon. Well, not entirely reckless that was more Tonks but things had definitely felt simpler back then.

"You're still young and reckless now, I just have to hear you stress about it afterwards." Charlie taunts, pinching your arm. You recoil at the sharp pain.

"Shush."

"Being in Romania doesn't change anything," He expresses; his voice sounding louder in the quiet darkness. "I loved you back home and I still love you now. I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

Hoping to distract yourself from every worrying thought that clouded your brain you decide it's time to change the subject. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Getting to work with Dragons all day every day? that's like dream come true."

"A dangerous one," Dragons were perhaps the most vicious creatures around other than humans. As captivating as they were and as much as charlie adored them, you couldn't help but worry about his safety. It seemed no matter the topic this evening you'd find a way to stress yourself out.

"I'll be fine, I'll have you there to patch me up," That he will for you had taken on the role as a healer willing to help out with all the injuries that inevitably come from dealing with dragons. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't quite convinced you were up to the task; you had never actually dealt with dragon-related injuries so this was like diving headfirst into the ocean when you only just learned how to swim in a training pool. "and if not- well, we had a good run."

"Don't joke about that," Nuzzling against his chest, you finally let your eyes close. Today was the start of forever with the one and only Charles Weasley and here he was joking about his ultimate demise.

4. The perfect day

It's peculiar how life can just fall into place. Your odd little world of dragons and leaky apartment buildings just became the norm. You had come to love your work at the reserve, Dragons were actually incredibly cool up close. Not to mention getting to see Charlie work with them after years of never shutting up about them was truly a sight to behold. Every day, it was like taking an excited little boy to his first day of school. His eyes simply lit up whenever he was at work although it was hard explaining his injuries to the neighbours when they were being nosey. You also had to be careful when using magic since you were basically living with muggles and it would be a headache if they ever found out.

With your site blocked by a thin piece of fabric, Charlie guides you carefully forward with his hands skillfully placed upon your arms to steer. This was the first day off the two of you have shared in a long time. Little information was given about your destination other than it being a surprise. With Charlie that could mean just about anything which wasn't always a good thing but you trusted him enough to believe he wasn't leading you into a dragon's den or something. A gentle breeze nipped at the skin of your neck and the ground felt soft under your feet. The gentle singing of a symphony of birds filled the air and the sun beamed down with remarkable easy. All this suggested you were somewhere withdrawn in nature. Charlie had always been one for the great outdoors. There were countless times you had found him sneaking in or out of the forbidden forest back at school.

"Am I going to like this surprise?" You inquire; your anxiety building with each step. You would much prefer to simply know what was going on rather than experience some dramatic reveal especially today of all days. Every year the boy seems to forget that he agreed not to make a big deal.

"I sure hope so," You practically slam into him as she comes to an unexpected standstill. "Because I don't think I can return it."

"Return what? Oh god- can I take my blindfold off?"

As the flimsy fabric skims the length of your face to settle loosely around your neck, your eyes take a minute to adapt. You don't know quite what you were expecting but this was not it. Before you stands a small cottage surrounded by nothing but a wide-open field full of a rainbow of wildflowers. It was a beautiful little house with as much charm and beauty you'd expect from a place out in what seems like the middle of nowhere. It could be described as the perfect place to settle down.

"Surprise!" He was redder than a cherry tomato when he stepped into view. Both arms in the air as a sign of celebration but you were just rather... confused? Whose house was this and why had he brought you all the way out here?

"I don't get it?"

"We've been here for a while now so I thought we should get our own place or like, a better place. One where we don't have to worry about anyone else." His confidence appeared to develop with each word but his face was still powdered in a deep shade of pink. S this was your house? He'd decided to up and move without even consulting you? "So I got us a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It kinda reminds me of the burrow only, y'know, smaller."

"It's ours?" His excitement is clear on his face and he quickly takes your hand. Pulling you along with him. "And that's not all."

"There's more?" Surely a whole house was enough. You were quite proud of Charlie for picking such a beautiful little place. Come summertime, you could already see yourself sitting among the flowers painting little pictures. You also wouldn't have to worry about muggles. Coming up on the front door, your boyfriend delivers you a little golden key. And with just a tiny degree of fear about what could be on the other side you unlock it. Much to your astonishment and disappointment, nothing is behind the door except the hallway leading inside. Charlie enters first and even as you follow, you half expect someone to jump out.

"I know I agreed not to make a big deal but how could I not?" He opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. It's not a massive space but it's assuredly not small either, the whole place was already furnished but you recognise the surprise was truly what sat on the table. It was a two-tier cake covered in blue frosting including the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top followed by your name.

"You... baked?"

"Mum sent it actually," Charlie chortled lightly as he wanders up behind you. Tossing a package of red with multicoloured polka-dots onto the table. "Sent this along too. Reckon it's a jumper or something."

"That was nice of her," You weren't sure of how to react to it all. Birthdays had never really been your thing but you appreciated that Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make you something special.

"And from me..." He trails off and the sound of tiny tracks echo off the walls attended by an adorable yelp. Up to your feet slides an ash grey puppy who was more legs than anything else. It had bright blue eyes and floppy ears.

"You got me a dog?"

"I got us a dog- thought we needed a pet around here. I debated getting a crup but that'd be a disaster if your parents ever decide to visit." Crups were notorious for their dislike of muggles. You never understood why but he was right in his decision. The gesture was sweet but rather odd all things considered but still you smile. It was hard to be mad at something so cute and you weren't just talking about the dog. The puppy sits at your feet, wagging its little tail a mile a minute. There was no denying how adorable it was and at least it wasn't a dragon. Or a murtlap for that matter, those things were ugly. "You don't seem happy... do you not like him? I can take him back?" Kneeling, your hand drifts over the soft fur of the puppy's head. In response, the dog jumps up in an attempt to lick at your face. Your smile grows as you try to get away. "I think he likes you."

"What's his name?"

"Whatever you want? He's a Great Dane by the way." The puppy had calmed down a little and you stare as you ponder the perfect name for an ash grey Great Dane. "How about... Arlo?"

"Arlo?"

"Mhmm," You hum standing up straight. "And I'm plenty happy if not a little overwhelmed. You know how I feel when it comes to my birthday."

"I do," He nods casually. His palms snake around your waist drawing you flush against him "But I never want you to forget that someone cares about you- that I care about you so bloody much."

"I know you do," You give him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that and for all of this."

"Arlo is the perfect name, Happy Birthday" Your lips connect in a beautifully slow embrace that fills your body with warmth and as he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest against yours. The dog barking as it explores the kitchen. "I'm just so grateful that you decided to run away with me."

#Charlie Weasley x reader #Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley imagine #hogwarts mystery #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

178 notes · View notes

c-rose2081 · 4 years ago

Text

Finding Home

Chapter 1 [Part 1] (Dave & Roxie)

—

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

The chopper pilot’s voice was stolen by the wind as Roxie and Dave leaned out the side door to have a look at Isla Nublar approaching on the horizon, “this is a suicide mission! You’ll probably die! I can take you back to the mainland right now!”

“Not a chance!” Roxie yelled back to him, tightening the backpack they had filled with rations and camping gear for the trip, “I’ve waited three years for this! Drop us there, on the North Shore!”

“You’re both crazy!” The pilot complained, turning the chopper anyway to begin descent towards the Island, “I’ll be back in four days for you! If you’re not there, I’ll assume you’re dead and leave without you. This is an unsafe fly-zone!”

“Just do as the lady says!” Dave called through the wind, clinging to the doorframe and his own backpack of supplies, “you don’t wanna be on her bad side!”

“It’s your money, amigos! I won’t be landing here though, you’ll have to jump for it!”

Nodding affirmatives, and with Dave throwing up his thumb, the pilot shook his head in disbelief and lowered the chopper down close to the shore. In the midst of billowing sand clouds, Dave and Roxie leapt from the chopper and onto the beach. Their boots sunk in the soft dunes, and ache from the landing quivered up into their knees. But as they turned, they could only see the bottom of the chopper’s blue and white cabin as it rose back up into the pristine sky.

“We made it,” Roxie breathed, brushing herself off and turning to look at the jungle ahead of them, “we’re actually here.”

“You know he’s right though,” Dave commented, ruffling his hair as to shake away sand grains, “we could get eaten before four days is up. We might not even get past today.”

“I’d rather die trying then never have tried at all,” Roxie shot back, “you’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“No. Just making an observation, that’s all. So, where exactly are we?”

Removing a folded paper from her interior pocket, Roxie scanned the map of the island. There was a red X on their landing spot, and the place they’d have to get to should they catch the chopper again.

“We’re here, on the north shore,” Roxie said, pointing to the spot and tapping it, “Camp is...was...just across the main Gyrosphere paddock here. It’s a straight shot, we could get there before nightfall,”

“And what if we encounter a dinosaur before then?”

“We shouldn’t if all the fences are still up. A Compy or two perhaps,”

Dave didn’t appear to agree with her assessment of the situation, as his normally loose and humorous brows furrowed up into his hairline. But he said nothing on it, merely exhaled a puff of air and nodded.

“Ok. You have the map memorized, you lead the way.”

“Keep close to me,” Roxie insisted, reaching out her hand for Dave to take and giving the warm palm a solid squeeze, “this place has probably grown a lot in three years. It’ll be a miracle if there’s anything left to see,”

Walking carefully into the underbrush, the mission was officially underway. Roxie wasn’t sure what she was expecting upon finally getting back here. After all, it felt like a lifetime ago. She could memorize and map all the trails and access roads she wanted, but jurassic undergrowth was a menace. For a while, the two of them walked in silence, listening to a slight breeze which rustled the leaves in the canopy. They strained their ears for noises which sounded out of place, but there was nothing but nature.

“So...” Dave spoke up eventually to break the silence, nearly giving Roxie a heart attack, “have you thought about it?”

“It?” Her heart jumped at the oddity of the question. Of course, she knew what it was, and the truth was that she had put quite a bit of thought into it.

But marriage?

It was a lot to take in.

“Though I appreciate your transparency on the matter, love. I’m not sure this is the right time to be having this conversation,” Roxie managed out finally, placing each word together as though pulled from a scrabble bag.

“I don’t see why not,” Dave complained jovially, “I mean, it’s kinda romantic being out here with you. And we don’t have much else to talk about,”

“I hate when you make good points,” Roxie mumbled under her breath, only to stop and slam her arm out for Dave to halt as well, “hold on,”

“What?”

“Shh...I hear something,”

Roxie listened hard again, and for a second she thought maybe she’d just imagined it. But then, somewhere in the distance, was a familiar guttural roar. But it wasn’t my dinosaur which Roxie knew. No, this roar was something else...something far more familiar.

“Is that a car?”

“Rox...”

“No, no I’m serious,” listening harder, Dave was moving across the ground, causing it to crunch under his feet.

“Roxie...”

“It’s an engine. But that not possible...”

“Roxanne!”

Whipping her head up, Roxie was just in time to duck as something was swung at her head. The whoosh of air made the skin on her ears tingle as the attacker pulled back for another go. In a blur of motion, Dave reached up a hand and grabbed whatever was being swung, only to grunt as a foot made contact with his exposed chest and sent him reeling backwards.

“Dave!” Roxie cried, wincing in solidarity as her boyfriend hit the ground with a moan of pain. She was just in time to move as a baseball bat nearly crashed into her outstretched arm, and she realized finally that this wasn’t any animal attacking them, but another human being.

Shuffling backwards to put a few more feet between her and the newcomer, Roxie wondered how they hadn’t seen or heard them coming. Hidden in the deep indigo shadows of the trees, a pair of shining green eyes stared out intently.

“W-we don’t mean you any harm,” Roxie said, grappling for the pepper spray hooked via carabiner to her backpack strap, “please. We’re here to help,”

The stranger said nothing, merely shuffled closer as the baseball bat in their hand dragged across the dirt. To Roxie’s surprise, it fell to the ground with a wooden clunk a moment later. For a second, she wondered if the person would stop. If they would leave them alone. But there was a silver glint in the dark as a knife was pulled from inside a hidden sheath, making a horrible scraping noise.

“Oh...god,”

Jerking as she found herself with her back against a tree, Roxie yelped in panic as the figure leapt at her. She saw a metallic shimmer as the blade sliced through the air and forced her eyes closed. She waited in anticipation for the pain, or the feeling of flesh tearing open. But there was nothing; just a pained, raspy panting and the overwhelming smell of forest and decay. Cracking one clenched lid back open to see what happened, the serrated knife was still held in the air, poised to strike.

The person holding the knife was now fully illuminated by a patch of sunlight, and Roxie had to pause. Green eyes met brown, and the knife lowered as a teenage girl stepped back with a harsh gasp of surprise. Roxie opened her mouth to speak, but there was only a croak.

“...Brooklynn?”

The name almost didn’t fit on her tongue. How she somehow connected the pink haired social media star to the figure before her, Roxie want sure. The stranger — identified now as Brooklynn — tilted her head, furrowing her brows up into her hairline. Unlike three years ago, the pink to her hair was all but a memory. A brown, ratty mess was pulled up behind badly sunburned ears, and skin freckled by long afternoons sparkled with a sheen of mud and sweat. Some of that mud was more red then brown, and Roxie realized it wasn’t just dirt, but also blood that coated her body.

Brooklynn stared at Roxie for a hard moment, her brain whirring behind those piercing green eyes. She then turned to where Dave was now sitting up, rubbing a hand against where he’d been kicked.

“...oh...”

Had she not been so close, Roxie would’ve missed the word. It was barely a whisper, one which was easily taken away by the breezes. Two adults stared down a teenager who had been ready to kill them not a moment before, jaws agape.

“Brooklynn...?” Roxie asked, causing the girl to glance up at her. Her eyes were wild and uncertain behind long bangs, “what...w-what happened to...you?”

It wasn’t a good question; but what really was at this point? What could she ask that she didn’t already know deep down somewhere? Roxie had dreams of rescuing children; the children she had left behind. The children who’s eyes would light up like fireworks at the mere mention of Dinosaurs. But she wasn’t expecting them to actually be alive after three years. She had been expecting to pick up some old relics to bring back, to show the families just to prove she had been on the Island and had done everything in her power to make things right again.

She wasn’t expecting to nearly be murdered by one of the kids she was supposedly here to save.

Brooklynn didn’t say anything, merely pressed her lips together and glanced down at the knife still held in her hand. It almost appeared as though she were forcing it away; like her arm wouldn’t respond to the command of letting them live. The metal scraped back into its holder, and Brooklynn mechanically walked back towards where the baseball bat lay in the grass. She picked it up, clutching the bottleneck grip in both hands.

Then, in a second, she was gone.

Roxie didn’t even have time to call out; the girl had vanished while her eyes were wide open. Were she not still pressed up against a tree with the smell of decay lingering close to her nose and throat, Roxie might’ve believed she was simply seeing impossible things.

“Rox? You ok?”

Jumping as Dave’s hand brushed against her shoulder, the woman opened her mouth but no sound came out.

“No,” she choked finally, turning to the broad chest beside her and seeking solace between his arms, “Dave, we thought none of them survived,”

“Yeah,” glancing down at one another, Roxie felt a horrible thought creep into her gut, “you got really pale all of a sudden,” the man above her commented, “what is it?”

“Dave, what if all of them survived?”

#camp cretaceous #jwcc #jwcc finding home au #fanfic #angst

38 notes · View notes

teddy-bear-surprise · 3 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞

You can read this story on AO3 or Wattpad too!

Peter Parker X Fem Reader

Description: A Pinch of Angst, Soft Peter Parker, Wholesome Peter Parker, Comforting Peter Parker… It’s a cute story, that’s basically it. Based on post-Far From Home but without the Daily Bugle incident. Spoiler alert: you’re Peter’s girlfriend… Just kidding that wasn’t a spoiler. But that’s basically all the backstory you need. Pls enjoy

Word Count: 5.6K

I would also like to take a moment to recommend the song "Down The Line" by José González since it's what inspired this story.

Before Peter left for his Summer class trip, he was the happiest kid in the world. Or, as happy as any kid whose father figure just died in an intergalactic battle could be. He could barely go one sentence without mentioning how “awesome” it would be to visit Europe. He and Ned had literally stayed up until 3 in the morning– more than once –because they couldn’t stop talking about Europe. He wanted to go on this trip so badly that he packed his bags a week early, which you and May knew was unprecedented for Peter.

Honestly, everything seemed perfect. You and May dropped him off early at the airport, he remembered to bring his passport, and Ned brought snacks for the both of them. It all went as smoothly as it could, especially considering that you all woke up half an hour late because Peter made (and presented) a 59-slide Powerpoint presentation about Europe the night before his flight.

The second Peter passed airport security, he started sending you photos of him hanging out with Ned. You saw the airport, and Europe, through Peter’s eyes. It was like seeing the world painted with brighter and newer colors, but it also could’ve been that hideous filter he puts on all of his photos. Still, you had never seen him so excited to be outside of Queens.

Almost immediately after he got to Europe, Peter’s photos started coming in less frequently, his texts grew shorter, and his voice wavered on the phone. You knew all about the battles against inter-dimensional monsters, the entire world knew. He was undoubtedly tired after such big fights, and you stupidly thought that was the only reason he had been acting differently. You thought he was just tired. You thought he was just busy. You thought he was just having fun. It turns out, you were just plain wrong .

The airport doors slid open, and you saw Peter walk out as he waved goodbye to Ned. Aunt May stood excitedly beside you and waved her homemade sign at Peter who would never need any sign to recognize the two of you. He jogged over, and you rushed to meet him, embracing him in a tight hug. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and held you for what felt like an eternity. You rubbed small circles on Peter’s back, beyond relieved to see him again. May walked up and tapped Peter on the shoulder, giving him a playful look that said, “I can’t believe you hugged your significant other before you hugged me.” The two reunited, and May pestered him with a neverending stream of questions. Peter answered each one as vividly as possible, leading you to think that the change that happened while he was in Europe was all in your head.

But when May joked about Peter’s lost luggage, you noticed something. He flinched. For a second, you couldn’t understand why Peter would be so upset about some lost luggage, but then you realized it. He had taken his Uncle Ben’s luggage with him to Europe, one of the last memories he had of Ben, and now it was gone. So though May couldn’t seem to care any less, you acknowledged that grief looked different for everyone.

Admittedly, Ben’s burnt bags weren’t the only thing bothering Peter. He seemed to let his guard down every few minutes, and the exhaustion, sadness, and despair would seep from his wide eyes. Peter didn’t seem to care that you could see, and maybe this was his way of asking you for help. But whenever May would glance at Peter through the rearview mirror, his walls would build right up again– turning him into a hollow, empty puppet with a smile plastered on its face.

The whole ride home, you had to sit there and pretend you couldn’t tell. After May dropped you off at your house, you weren’t sure if you should text Peter or not. You wrote and rewrote a dozen messages to him, but none of them felt right.

“Peter, are you okay?” Nope… too short.

“Hey, Pete do you need to talk? I’m alwa–” Definitely not. Way too direct.

“I noticed you seemed a bit down. Is everything alright?” You sound like May. Ew.

Ultimately, you never sent any of them. As much as you loved Peter and wanted to help him, you knew it wouldn’t do any good to rush him. So, you gave him some space and time.

Shockingly, for the first time since you had gone to pick him up at the airport, Peter asked you to come over. During the past two weeks, you had always been the one to initiate dates or conversations. And even though it felt like Peter had stopped loving you, you persisted, never confusing his pain for the loss of love.

As usual, you and Peter invited May to join in on your movie night. And right on cue– only twenty minutes into the movie –she said she never wanted to watch another Star Wars film again and went to bed, leaving you both alone in the living room. After you finished watching Phantom Menace for the dozenth time, Peter laid out his collection of Star Wars DVDs, trying to decide if he wanted to watch the rest of the prequels or skip to another one of his favorites.

Deep down, you felt like Peter had invited you over for a reason. That his intentions included more than a movie, that it meant he was ready to talk. You leaned down and laid a hand on his shoulder, and he froze, holding A New Hope tightly in his grip.

“Pete… Are you okay?”

He glanced back at you with confusion, “What do you mean? Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I don’t know, Pete. All I know is that you’ve been acting different since you got back from your trip.”

“Why would I be different?” He replied defensively, as though you had offended him. “I mean, i-if anything, you’re the one who’s being different.”

You saw tears well up in his eyes as he turned his back to you. “Peter, please just talk to me. I can tell that something’s off. I’m your girlfriend, for gosh sakes! I can tell! And you might think you have everyone else fooled, but….” You took a second to breathe, “but you can’t fool me.”

He shifted his weight and turned to face you, opening his mouth to speak. Still, nothing came out. Peter looked back at the ground, his silence prompting you to continue.

“I’m not sure if you wanted me to notice– or if you just didn’t care that I noticed –but I noticed. I gave you time, I waited for you to talk to me, and I thought that you inviting me over tonight meant that you were ready to talk.” Tears rolled down your face as you lowered your voice. “I’m sorry for caring, Peter, but I can’t pretend that you’re okay anymore… because you are clearly not okay.”

He fiddled with his hands, still avoiding looking at you. “I just wanted to watch a movie. I-I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but all I wanted was to watch a movie with my girlfriend a-a-and have a good night….”

Peter’s voice trailed off, and you chimed in. “It’s not just about a movie, Pete. And I can’t let you act like it was ever just about a movie. Let’s just talk for a bit and see what happens. I might not know what happened out there, but the one thing I know is that you’re a hero, Peter. You’re my hero. So please, just tell me what’s bothering you, and then we can move on.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Peter. Something isn’t right and you can’t keep it inside forever.”

“I-It’s really nothing. There’s no use talking about it anyway, it won’t change what happened.”

“That’s a start… What happened then? What’s so bad that you can’t even tell your girlfriend?” He shook his head and you asked again, “Peter, c’mon. You can tell me. What happened?”

“Can you please stop asking?” He played with his fingers, his eyes still fixated on a dent in the floorboard.

“I can’t stop. Because if I stopped, that would mean I stopped loving you. And I don’t think that’ll ever happen. Not in this lifetime.”

Peter looked sadly at you, tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks. “I did everything right. I tried to do everything right. And I still… I messed up so bad. London would still be fine if it wasn’t for me. Did you know that?” He let out a sad, sarcastic chuckle. “London was all my fault.”

“Peter, you saved London. You di–”

Peter cut you off, running his hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t have had to save London if I hadn’t given E.D.I.T.H. to Beck.”

You looked at him in disbelief and it finally hit you how little you knew about the situation. But before Peter could see the shock in your eyes, you changed your expression, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Quentin tricked me. I-I guess I was so stupid that I let him trick me and I gave E.D.I.T.H. to him and that’s why he was able to attack London. A-and I’m the reason that attack happened in the first place! I’m the reason a hundred people died! I’m the reason th-that Beck almost tricked the whole world! Tony never should’ve given me E.D.I.T.H.… Beck could’ve killed like a million peo–”

“Peter.” You squeezed his shoulder, “You can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t let him kill a million people and now he never will, because you stopped him. Tony gave you E.D.I.T.H. because he trusted you, and he was right to do so. You figured out that Beck was bad before Paranoid Fury even doubted him, just think about that. You figured it out before Paranoid Fury. That’s incredible. And I know you think you don’t deserve E.D.I.T.H., but no one else could have taken down Beck on their own. Not like you did. So, like it or not, you’re kind of the best superhero we’ve got.”

You opened your arms, beckoning for him to sit back on the sofa with you. Peter gave you a teary smile and climbed onto the sofa, leaning into your arms. You cradled his head as he cried into your shoulder, his tears staining your sweater.

“It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” For almost ten minutes, he lay in your arms as you repeated the reassuring phrase.

His breathing slowed and his eyes dried once more, though they were still red and puffy. Peter released himself from your embrace and laid across your lap, looking up and into your eyes.

“I gotta go hit the head.”

You looked at Peter with confusion, “I’m sorry, what? Did you really just say ‘hit the head’?”

“What? It’s a totally normal phrase.” He pouted at you.

“Just say you ‘need to go to the bathroom’ like a normal person… Oh m-you totally stole that from Fury or Cap didn’t you? Which one was it?”

Peter suddenly seemed very embarrassed, “Fury…”

“I knew it! Now go to the bathroom, weirdo. I’ll be waiting for you so we can choose our next movie.”

“‘Kay. Be right back”

Peter rushed out and somehow came back from the bathroom within a minute.

“I think I know which movie I wanna watch.” He flashed a shy smile at you.

“I don’t care what you wanna watch unless you washed your hands.”

Peter whined, “But I did wash them.”

“There’s literally no way you washed your hands and went to the bathroom in less than a minute. That would be impossible.”

“I totally did wash my hands, but I guess I could wash them again.”

“Good to hear. So, what movie did you wanna watch, Parker?”

Peter handed you the same A New Hope DVD that he had dropped onto the sofa ten minutes prior. You rolled your eyes at him, holding the movie from the corner using only your pointer and thumb. As a condition, you told him he had to wash his hands in the kitchen sink (so you could watch him) before you would start the movie. After he did his part, you placed the disc into the DVD player and looked back at Peter while you waited for the film to appear onscreen.

“Hey, Peter.” He lifted his head from the sofa’s cushions and propped it up, on one hand, waiting to hear what you had to say. “I know I was just joking around a few minutes ago, but I have to say something serious again. Next time something like this happens, you have to let it out. Whether that means talking to me, May, or Ned, you can’t let this-this darkness eat you up. Because, frankly, there’s a whole lifetime of darkness down the line and that’ll be the case for the rest of eternity. But what always made you different from Bucky, or Tony, or Cap, or any of them, is that you’ve never let yourself get caught up with that ‘darkness’. So don’t give up now. I know it’s a tough fight– well I’ll never know– but still, you can’t let the darkness take your shine away. You are the funniest, most intelligent, and kindest person I’ve ever met. Please, just don’t let anyone or anything ever take that from you.”

You had been staring at the coffee table between you and Peter this whole time and when you tilted your head back up in Peter’s direction, you noticed how shocked he seemed. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes maintained a soft gaze as if he was struggling to process this information. Peter sat up and grabbed a pillow from beside him, hugging it tightly to his chest.

“I-I–” Peter was on the verge of saying something but was cut off by the film’s characteristic intro music.

As the movie started, you crawled back up onto the sofa with Peter, and this time you rested your head on the pillow in his lap. You grew tired after the first hour and drifted to sleep, though Peter was still wide awake by the end. He let you sleep comfortably, still resting your head upon his lap as he stroked your cheek. Soon after, Peter dozed off as well, still sitting tall.

The next morning, May saw that you were both still sound asleep and since it was already close to noon, she thought waking you up would be a great idea. She crept up behind the sofa, walking slowly and quietly until she was right behind both of you. May leaned over the sofa, peering down at your sleeping figures, and yelled while waving her arms wildly.

“WAKE UP! THERE’S ALIENS AGAIN! LOKI IS HERE! AAAHHHHH!”

Peter jumped up, knocking May over and dropping you onto the ground where you woke momentarily before closing your eyes and rolling under the coffee table. He turned left and right looking for aliens and destruction, still in a half-asleep daze.

“Where are they!?!” He ran into his room, slamming the door open and throwing his belongings everywhere. “I can’t find my suit! MAYYYYYY! Where– Ohhhhh.”

He calmed down the second he took a look outside, realizing that May had just pranked him. “Haha. Very funny May,” said Peter sarcastically.

He walked back into the living room where May was still sitting on the ground and you had fallen asleep again. May laughed at Peter and gave him a pat on the back as he helped her up.

“I thought that was pretty funny, didn’t you? I mean, definitely not my best work, but not bad for a prank that only took five seconds of planning.”

Sass dripped from Peter’s words, “Mhmm. Sooooo funny, May. That totally wasn’t cruel at all. If I didn’t know any better, I might even say that was borderline emotional abuse.”

“Oh hush, Peter. You know it’s all just jokes and love with me.”

Peter laughed at May and went around to the other side of the couch where he had dropped you on the floor. You were a deep sleeper, both a blessing and a curse in a city that actually got attacked by one of the big three every other week. Peter crouched down, lowering himself onto his hands and knees until he came face to face with you.

He set a hand on your back, shaking you gently. “Hey, sleepyhead. Do you wanna wake up? It’s almost lunchtime… I know how much you love lunch.”

Your eyes opened slowly and a smirk appeared on your lips, “Did you say ‘lunch’?”

You and Peter were getting ready to go out with May for a fun Sunday brunch-lunch. While he and May had inherited some money from Tony, they only let themselves spend it on Sundays. They decided they wanted to try out some weird and somewhat fancy French restaurant in Chelsea and invited you to go along with them. The only problem was that you forgot to pack an overnight bag and had nothing to change into.

“Uhhhh, Peter. You wouldn’t happen to have any extra clothes lying around that I could borrow? Maybe, just like for today? Pants and a shirt would work just fine, like literally anything.”

“I have to-uhhhh I have to check. Yeah. I have to check… Just give me a minute here.” Peter started pacing around his room, digging through piles of unfolded laundry. “Change of plans, I’m gonna check with May. I can’t seem to find anything nice.”

As Peter walked out of the room he placed his cell phone on his bedside table. A horrible idea flashed through your mind and before you could think it through, you already had Peter’s phone in your hands. You racked your brain trying to remember his passcode until you remembered what a fanboy he was. The passcode was 1999, the year The Phantom Menace came out. And while you didn’t agree that it was the best of the Star Wars movies, you let him think that you did.

You scrolled through Peter’s contacts, looking for Happy Hogan, but unfortunately, he had replaced everyone’s names with emojis. Basically, he had made it impossible for anyone other than him to access his contacts list. Remembering that the text app would let you search for keywords from old conversations, you typed in “Hi, Happy. It’s Peter.” knowing that there was an extremely high chance that Peter had sent his first text to Happy in that format. Just as you had suspected, one conversation appeared. The contact name had a smiling emoji followed by a little house and a wrestler. You clicked on the contact info and it displayed Happy’s phone number. Grabbing your own phone from your pocket, you copied down the number before exiting out of the text app and placing Peter’s phone exactly where it had been before.

You sat down on Peter’s bed, surrounded by his laundry, and waited for him to return. While you waited, you started drafting a message to Happy.

“Hey, Happy… it’s me, Peter’s girlfriend. I kinda need a favor so if you could maybe give me a call sometime that would be really great. Thanks!” It looked and sounded horrible, but frankly, it was the only thing you could come up with.

Four days later, Happy called you, and he wasn’t very happy about it.

“Okay, kid. What do you want? And make it quick because Pepper’s got me working way more than I get paid for.”

Despite your preparation, your anxiety got the best of you when you realized you would actually have to speak with Happy. “Oh, um hi Mr. Happy. So basically I need your help to surprise Peter–”

Happy interrupted you, “What? Why do you need my help?”

“Well, you see, Peter lost his uncle Ben’s luggage when he went to Europe, and Peter has a very strong emotional connection to the bag because Ben is dead. Oh gosh, that sounded really bad. But what I’m trying to say is that I need your help to recreate uncle Ben’s bag so I can surprise Peter for his birthday!”

“That’s it? You could’ve just texted me and I would already have the bag in production. Geez. I’ll see if I can find any photos of the bag in the Stark Database, but send me over what you have to speed things up, alright? Talk to ya later, kid.”

He had hung up before you could even thank him. His bluntness made sense considering he had a lot on his plate, grief included, so you decided to find as many photos of Ben’s luggage as you could to make his job easier. You texted May asking about the bag, saying that you were just curious, and omitted your secret. To your surprise, May actually had detailed photos of the bag from when Ben bought it to take on their honeymoon. You thanked her repeatedly and immediately sent the photos to Happy who merely replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

August tenth approached quickly and before you knew it, Peter’s birthday was there. Happy had someone drop off the replica at your apartment and you were suddenly very thankful that Peter was too busy to randomly swing by anymore. Whoever wrapped the suitcase made sure that it was very obviously a suitcase, they even wrapped the handle separately from the rest of the bag. Who even does that?

You hauled the luggage up the steep stairs leading up to your apartment, wondering why Peter would take such an inconvenient item with him. Then, it hit you again. First, he’s Spider-Man so the bag probably felt light as a feather to him. And second, emotions influence people into making weird decisions. You ran to unwrap it as soon as you shut your front door. Ripping off the thick brown paper, the luggage’s natural, and beautiful, navy blue shone through. You marveled at the leatherwork and the shiny “B.F.P.” embossed between the buckles. This bag was something you had seen time and time again at Peter’s apartment, yet it wasn’t until now that you realized just how beautiful it was.

After heading out to a local craft store to get some nicer wrapping paper and a real box, you returned home to wrap up Peter’s present. Despite your best efforts to not wrap his present up the same way as the idiot who wrapped it the first time, your wrapping job ended up looking minimally better. The only redeeming part was the wrapping paper. Unfortunately, you had mismeasured and just the handle did not fit into the box, sticking out ever so slightly and creating a noticeable lump in the wrapping paper. You brainstormed for nearly an hour, testing out a dozen different ideas before you realized what you needed, was a bow. You returned to the craft store, digging through bins of bows, ribbons, and yarns until you found a giant blue bow made of at least thirty thin ribbons. The finishing touch fixed all of your worries and made Peter’s present look like a really showy box, which was exactly what you were going for.

On the day of Peter’s birthday party, you had to drag his huge gift box across five blocks, through two line changes, and in the dark. Peter decided that since he was turning 17, though he would have been 22 if he hadn’t blipped, he deserved a “big boy” party, and apparently, that meant having a party at night time. By the time you arrived at Avenger’s Tower, where he said would “be the absolute best spot to have a birthday bash”, the bottom of the wrapping paper had gotten ripped off and only the cardboard remained. For a split second, you wished that you had kept the bag’s handle outside of the wrapping paper, but ultimately, you knew that wrapping it the way you did would make surprising Peter much more fun.

You took the elevator up to one of the top floors, accompanied by Ned and Bruce Banner. The entire ride up, not a single word was spoken, and the corny elevator music served only to intensify the awkwardness. The three of you rushed out when the doors opened, not even waiting for the elevator voice to finish telling you what floor you were on. Banner went straight to the sofa area where Thor and Valkyrie were talking. You and Ned, however, teamed up to look for Peter.

“So, uh, what’s in the box?” Ned pointed to the present you were dragging across the smooth tile.

“It’s just Peter’s present.”

“Well, yeah. I know that, but like,” Ned lowered his voice and covered his mouth, “what’s in it?”

“It’s a surprise, Ned. I can’t tell you because then you’ll just tell Peter and then it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

“Ooohhhh, gotcha. Gotcha. Surprise, huh? Are you sure you can’t tell me? I promise I won’t tell Peter.”

You looked at Ned, “I’m sure, Ned. Now help me figure out where to put this box, it’s kinda heavy and I don’t like lugging it around.”

Ned helped you with the box, carrying both his and your presents until you came across the present table. May was in charge of the table and took the presents gladly.

“Hi, May! Have you seen Peter around?” You asked her.

“Sorry kiddos, I haven’t seen him since Thor got here. Did you check the lounge area? That’s where Thor always hangs out so he might still be over there.”

Ned chimed in this time, “Nah, he’s not there. Mr. Thor was though. I’m sure we’ll find him later. Thanks, Ms. Parker!”

The two of you left May at the table, looking all over for Peter. Finally, you found him on the upper level of the room talking to Shuri. He waved at you and Ned to join him, motioning to the stairs to his left.

You started a conversation as you climbed the stairs, “Hey, Pete! Hey, Shuri! How are y’all doing?”

“Good! Hurry up or you’ll miss the fireworks,” Shuri urged you and Ned to hurry up.

Peter turned to Shuri and rolled his eyes, “Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell them, I wanted them to think it was a surprise, not that we planned it!”

Ned chimed in, “What? Did you want us to think you had a secret admirer? Because we all know that Flash is your only admirer.”

You high-fived Ned for his great comeback, though you couldn’t help but correct him. “Excuse me, but I like to consider myself the best Peter Parker admirer. Flash is only a Spidey admirer. There’s a difference!”

The four of you hung out on the balcony for the rest of the night, occasionally chatting with other Avengers or friends that happened to pass along. You could tell that Peter and Ned were missing MJ at the party, but her parents had decided to move to a more rural area immediately after the trip, making it near impossible for her to come to the party. Still, along with Shuri’s help, you were able to keep Ned and Peter happy and entertained until it was time for cake and presents.

Everyone gathered around the long, glass table with Peter sitting at the very front. You and Ned each stood on either side of him, while May stood immediately behind him. Barton walked into the room carrying a large, two-tiered cake that was decorated like Tony’s arc reactor. Peter had asked for it specifically, as one last tribute to Tony. Originally, Scott had offered to bake the cake, claiming that baking was one of the many talents he acquired while on house arrest. It turned out, that Scott only thought he was a good baker because he was the only one eating his treats and had grown accustomed to the bad tastes and textures. Luckily, May had asked Scott to bring her a sample a week before the party, so we still had enough time to ask Clint’s wife to help us instead.

Sam lit the seventeen candles on the cake quickly, only stopping when Bucky added an eighteenth candle for “good luck”. Leading the awkward celebration, Scott began singing “Happy Birthday”; the other Avengers followed awkwardly. Thor sang louder than everyone else despite not knowing the lyrics, and Shuri joined him. Barton, Fury, Hill, and Bucky all stood awkwardly while lipsyncing the words. You, May, Sam, Ned, Bruce, Hope, Happy, Pepper, Morgan, and Strange were the only ones singing normally, though normal was never a great descriptor for any of Peter’s “coworkers”. Peter blew out his candles shyly as the song came to a close and muttered “thank you” under his breath when he realized they hadn’t put trick candles on his cake this time.

Thor’s booming voice cut through the chatter, “Well, Midguardian, when can we see these gifts of yours? I am quite interested in knowing what marvels lie on that table.”

“Oh. Ummm. Sorry, Mr. Thor, I wasn’t really planning on opening those at the party. It was going to be more of a private thing… like just me.”

“Nonsense, young one! You should open them all here. In front of your friends! We will not judge if you receive odd gifts, why that only makes it more exciting!”

Peter looked anxiously between you, Ned, and Shuri, trying to see if any of you had gotten him embarrassing gifts that might require privacy. Ned and Shuri shook their heads reassuringly, and although your gift was not embarrassing, you weren’t sure it warranted an audience.

You leaned down to Peter’s ear and whispered to him, “My present isn’t really embarrassing or inappropriate or anything, but it’s a bit special. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take it off the table and hide it so Thor doesn’t make you open it. Is that alright?”

Peter looked up at you, grabbing your hand, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. To be honest, I don’t feel like opening any of them in front of a crowd. But go do what you have to, I’ll keep him distracted for a minute.”

You thanked Peter and slipped away. As you were walking towards the gift table you heard Peter yelling something about cake, followed by Thor, Scott, and Sam cheering. Whatever it was, it was probably going to distract them for longer than you needed. You dug around looking for your box, finding it hidden under a dozen gift bags. Carefully, you moved each gift bag to the side until you could pull the box from the pile. You fixed the table, leaving it almost the same as you had found it, and looked around for a place to hide your present. Towards the end of the hallway, you found the perfect hiding spot beneath a wide leather chair. You hid the box and returned quickly to the party, hoping that no one noticed your absence.

After everyone had gone home, and May had fallen asleep on Thor’s favorite sofa, you finally gave Peter his present. He ripped the torn, dusty, and grimy wrapping paper away from the gift, pulling chunks of the cardboard box along with it.

The second he laid eyes on the dark blue leather and brown handle, he knew what you had gotten him. “Oh my… No way…”

Peter didn’t even wait to finish opening the present before pulling you into a warm embrace. He hugged you tightly and you felt a tear hit your back.

“I’m really hoping those are happy tears.”

Peter pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Definitely happy tears.”

“Good, because I really wasn’t planning on this being a sad moment.”

“How? W-How did you even get this? I thought I had lost it, or-or gotten it blown up! Oh my gosh… I-I still can’t believe this. Thank you so much! Really. Thank you.” Peter released his grip on your shoulders, moving his hands up slowly until they cupped your face. He looked solemnly into your eyes, waiting for a look of agreement, before kissing you softly.

“You’re welcome, Pete. But just so you know, it's just a replica. I'm not quite sure what happened to the real bag… you should thank Happy too, he helped me figure this all out.”

“I’ll definitely thank him later. But seriously, this might be one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.”

You smiled at his giddiness and joked, “I would hope so, I’m the one who gave it to you!”

“I don’t want to get all sappy, but thank you for not letting the darkness get to me. If it hadn’t been for your little pep-talk, I might still be letting that darkness eat at me, and I’m guessing that wouldn’t be great. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. No matter how much bad there is down the line, I don’t ever wanna feel like that again. I love you so much, and I’m so thankful that you’re in my life. I mean it.”

“I know, and I love you too, I love you through the Blip and back.”

{can someone lmk if this story is any good? I’m having some doubts 😭}

#tom holland peter parker #peter parker #spiderman #spider man #MCU #marvel #avengers #cute peter parker #fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #spider man fanfiction #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #wholesome

15 notes · View notes