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writings-of-my-own · 2 years ago

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Queen of my court/King of my heart - Loki x Reader

Part 2

Summary: Your first time in Asgard comes with hidden feelings and lots of alcohol. Lots of it. And what will your drunk self reveal to the man you love in secret, your best friend, under such influence?

In Asgard, everything held a peculiar type of beauty, from the simpler things such as the flowers and the grass to the most intricate ones like the stars and the moon above. But to Loki, there was only one thing of unmatched beauty in his realm right now and that was you. The air was warm and comforting during this bewitching night of May. The two of you chose to take a walk in the ravishing Gardens of the palace. Guarding over your souls, the stars and the moon were the only witnesses of you and Loki, watching as he was seated on a bench between the rose bushes with your head on his lap and his fingers tangled in your silky hair. You hummed with contentment at his lovely touch. In the meantime, his other hand was occupied with yours as you were playing with the encrusted ring on his finger or measuring the difference between your palms from time to time.

He was telling you stories about his home, myths and legends and truths that survived for centuries and you were taking every single word in, caught in his rich voice and his unmatched tales. The way you always listened to him and how you always asked the most well-fitting questions made Loki’s heart swell. He has never had anyone listen to him like that, let alone someone pay him enough mind to actually be interested in what he was saying. How on Earth did that come to be, you had no idea. Loki was clever beyond belief, truly the most intelligent man you have ever met. Being granted the luxury to get a look into his brilliant mind should have intrigued any living person.

‘And so my mother taught me everything I know about magic,’ he concluded his little tale and you wanted nothing more than to see him perform some spells for you. You loved it when he did that. You always admired how skilled he was in the mystical arts.

‘Could you show me your favourite illusion-making spell?’ you asked, lifting your chin a little so you could find his gaze. He was already looking at you. Words of endearment were threatening to escape his lips but he settled on a soft smile instead. It was during nights like this that Loki felt most threatened by his feelings for you. Because during nights like this everything seemed possible. His cruel little mind would let him wander through possibilities that he should not consider and he would sometimes be on the verge of slipping and telling you how in love with you he was. But then, the God quickly came back to his senses. No force in this Universe would allow a heart like yours to be taken with a heart like his. And if this, right here, was all that the Gods could offer him, he would take it, no matter how painful it felt to fight the urge to kiss you.

‘Anything for you.’ He slowly turned his palm to face the sky and when he opened his fingers, colourful sparkles flew all around, creating a small firework in his hand. A joyful laugh escaped your lips and you stood up on your elbows to get a better look at his work. Loki thought he’s never heard a prettier sound. It was perfect, every last detail of a real firework was portrayed in the palm of his hand, with colours so vibrant and movements so lively that if it weren’t for the size, one couldn’t tell the difference from the real thing.

‘This is bewitching, Loki, I love it,’ you raised your hand to gently touch his palm and as you did, the sparkles of that little firework transformed into dozens of small butterflies that flew in all directions possible. An expression of wonder and amazement adorned your features. If you would have looked at the God, you would have seen the same amazement painted on his face but not because of the beauty of the illusion but because he did not purposely conjure the butterflies, they appeared without his will. It has never happened to him before, to have his magic act outside of his control. He was talented and very skilled in his craft so an occurrence like this, at the level that he was in was impossible, something must have happened but he didn’t know what it was. Watching the scene from the balcony above, someone else did know exactly what has happened to Loki’s illusion. Frigga smiled down upon her son and his best friend, observing the pure interaction that was taking place between the two of them. As all-knowing as every mother is, the Queen of Asgard felt a sense of comfort she hasn’t encountered in a while as she watched you looking at her youngest son like a child that has seen the sea for the first time in their life. And he was looking at you the same way, like you crafted the stars and hung them on the night sky yourself. It was clear to anyone that you two relished in each other’s company, which was unusual for the God of Mischief, to say the least. Loki has always been reserved and guarded.

Ever since he was a little boy, he would mostly keep to himself and lock himself away in his chambers with books and pages upon pages of poetry that he would get lost in. But he was also a very loving child, he would always hug his mother before bed and he would always look up to his father and wish to be by his side. He would shake hands with the guards or touch someone’s arm when he laughed too hard. He would push Thor with his shoulder in serious situations or ruffle his hair before a fancy ball. As he grew older, he became more aware of his place in the palace and in his father’s eyes, of how he was always an outcast in this court and how everyone around him knew it. So he restrained himself from being in their presence so much and he kept his hands away. And then he found out he was a Frost Giant. The sworn enemy of his realm and the monster that his people viewed as the biggest threat to Asgard. He saw his touch as an insult to anyone around him so he never hugged or held onto anyone ever again.

And then Thanos found him. And Loki learned that touch could be more than just an insult, it could be a weapon. He was taught that touch could be something entirely different from a sign of comfort but the very thing that could cause one harm. So he dreaded to be touched in return as well. Not only that, but he feared it. He would always flinch or curse at any form of physical contact and he most definitely did not crave it. It did him no good for the entirety of his life and he certainly didn’t want to feel the type of pain that touch inflicted on him ever again. Until you showed up. You were gentle and kind and intelligent and Loki hated you so much at first. You did things to him, with the accepting look in your eyes, with being so soft-spoken and interested in him. In what he had to say, not because of who he was, but because you just genuinely cared to listen. You listened when everyone around him only made efforts to silence him. The villain. The one that tried to take over New York. He didn’t try to explain himself because he knew there was no point in that. It’s not like they would listen anyway. But you were smart, smarter than anyone ever gave you credit for and you saw the signs, the unmatching patterns. And you worked hard to prove his innocence. Without owing him anything, without anything to gain, you cleared his name and expected nothing in return. You were too good to stand in his presence and he hated you for sticking by his side even when he was being so rude towards you, trying to make you leave.

He did not need anyone near him, much less a Midgardian, he thought. But then he found himself seeking you out. When you would leave for missions he secretly wished that you would come back sooner just to stay and read next to him in the common areas. And then he missed your talks and your debates and your banter. You challenged him in ways he has never been before. In time, you became a source of comfort to Loki and so did your touch. From accidental hand brushes to a hand on his shoulder to fingers in his hair to a hug. It was a long road but Loki found that he craved being touched. By you, only by you. He learned that touch could still mean comfort, it could mean affection and love and gentleness. And he loved touching you, too. Not at first.

In the beginning stages of your friendship, he felt it was more like a sin to allow his murderous, blood-stained hands to touch your porcelain skin. Months passed and he would sometimes find that he was subconsciously seeking you out. He would find his shoulder pressed to yours while he would daze off into a fictional realm in one of his books or he would find his fingers on your cheek when you would get flour stuck on it while cooking together. His instinct would be to retrieve himself from you but he realized that you did not mind at all. You actually loved it. So he allowed a few selfish moments of contact from time to time. He would touch your thigh with his while you were seated together on a couch somewhere in the compound or hold your hand when you would walk somewhere together. He would tuck a strand of hair behind your ear when the wind was too harsh or caress your cheek when you were sad and about to cry.

So for his mother, seeing Loki let you touch him so openly was a relief. And a miracle. She knew how cold the world has turned him but she also loved him dearly, so much that she knew his heart. Frigga was always aware of who Loki was behind his high walls. And so she knew just by looking at the two of you that he was in love with you. The intimacy that he allowed you was not something Loki gave away to anyone. And you were in love with him as well, she could so easily tell. It was everywhere, in your eyes, in your gentle touch, in your smile, you had to be blind not to see it. Frigga knew he deserved it, her youngest son, he has been through so many hardships in his life that seeing him radiate so much love seemed unattainable but it was finally true. Smiling to herself, the Queen turned her back to the beautiful interaction and made a note to talk to Loki tomorrow.

You always loved the nights more but morning in Asgard was a sight to see. The golden hue of the palace intensified as the sun cast its rays everywhere so that a warm, yellow light was pouring over the court. It was quite early but you decided to go and look for the training grounds because Thor promised you a sparring session you will never forget. Training with Asgardian warriors was way out of your capabilities but the blonde Prince promised you that you were more than qualified and that he will go easy on you. Thor was already waiting for you, lining up weapons when you arrived in a traditional attire he left specifically for this occasion.

‘Lady Y/N, you look marvellous in this armour,’ Thor said, greeting you with a tight hug. The suit that you were wearing was made of black Asgardian leather, adorned with beautiful golden details and an armoured corset of the same colour as the small patterns. Knee-high boots, a metallic skirt cut on both of your legs to give you more space to move and elastic hand wrap up to your elbows completed the suit. You did feel good in this, powerful. Thor walked you through the basics and then you were joined by Lady Sif and the Warrior’s Three. The group was extremely loud and chaotic but they welcomed you with open arms and hilarious jokes. They were very warm people, hugging you and cheering you on after every feat, but ruthless fighters in the rink. You did not back down though, no matter how tired you became, you kept pushing. Thor prepared an entire programme for you and after about an hour of warm-up combats with each of the members of the group, he went on to teach you how to use a bow. He let you choose whatever weapon caught your eye and you went for this one even though you had no prior experience.

‘The wind is on your side today, so you should find aiming a decently easy task,’ Thor said, following your movements attentively. You picked the arrow and placed it perpendicular to the string of the bow and shoot your shot. You missed by miles.

‘Let me help you with that,’ the blonde prince said, coming behind you to steady your position and fix your aim. Lifting your elbow with one hand, Thor took his time adjusting your arms and your stance, holding the bow in place.

‘Now, relax your shoulders a little.’ He whispered in your ear to not startle you and you scrunched your nose in concentration, an old habit of yours. Unknown to you just yet, the other prince stood a bit further behind, next to the stands watching you train. And if he did not know better he would say that the funny feeling in his stomach was jealousy. He would say that he hated how you allowed Thor so close to you and how you laughed at his stupid jokes and how you stood right there in his arms. But he knew better.

‘So did you tell her yet?’ Loki almost jumped out of his skin in surprise when he heard his mother’s voice behind him. People couldn’t sneak behind the God of Mischief but Frigga was exceptionally sly. He learned from the best.

‘Tell what to whom?’ He asked, still eyeing his brother like he wanted to murder him. If looks could kill, Thor would have been 10 feet under by now.

‘You know just well what I am referring to, or are you going to let Y/N slip away from you just because you are frightened to admit that you are in love?’ The prince choked on his own breath, hearing his mother dispel him in such a way. He thought he was being slick about this. Hearing him from behind, you lost all your concentration and turned to look for the source of his voice. The moment you locked eyes, both of your expressions turned into blissful smiles. You waved at him and pointed to your attire, raising your eyebrow enough so that you asked if he liked it or found it funny. Loki showed you a ten with his fingers and winked. You then turned to Thor to tell him something. Loki rolled his eyes. He heard Frigga let out a chuckle at that. To him though, there was nothing funny about this entire ordeal.

'I think I should tell Thor that I would love for him to properly court Y/N then. If you see no issue in that, that is. What do you think?' Loki paused for just a few seconds and then crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring ahead and avoiding his mother's smug looks at all costs. 'I do not think he is her type, unfortunately.' He wanted to slap himself at how obvious he sounded right now. His voice was higher and rushed and a side-glance at his mother only confirmed it further. 'You can do as you please, Mother, for all I care but I strongly doubt she would be interested.' He had to gather all his will to even mouth these words as the thought of you with his brother -with any other man for that matter- made him sick to his stomach. Of course, he would never admit or acknowledge that. For all he knew, it was just the heat that was getting to him.

'I believe she already has her eye set on someone else though.' The young prince all but snapped his neck with how quickly he turned to face his mother.

'What do you mean? I did not see Lady Y/N interact with anyone in here other than us and a few servants. Had any of them caught her interest?' Now Loki was fidgeting more than one ever should but to him, it didn't matter how obvious he was right now. The firestorm that ignited itself in his veins did not care about hiding anything anymore. He was so focused on Frigga that he heard your voice before he had seen you standing in front of him and his mother.

'Your Majesty,' you said shyly while making a reverence in front of the Queen. Frigga smiled and nodded at you and Loki turned to face you with a storm in his eyes. He was still distraught because of his mother's implications of you finding another man of interest. You raised your eyebrows at him in confusion and turned to greet Frigga. 'I wanted to thank your Majesty for the courtesy of letting me train on your grounds. I may be no Asgardian warrior but Prince Thor is a surprisingly patient teacher.' 'You have admirable ambition, I shall say my son surely loves you as a student, ' a warm smile and a knowing glint illuminated Frigga's face, especially after she heard Loki scoff right next to her. Now Frigga adored her younger son with everything she had but she could not help but tease him about this entire situation. If she couldn't get the truth out of him, she trusted his rage to let it all slip. 'That is all her, not because of Thor's or anyone's training though,' Loki said, crossing his arms over his chest. Frigga agreed but ignored him as she continued to ask about how you found the kingdom and the palace and how you have been treated since your arrival. 'Everyone in court has been incredibly kind to me.' 'Some may have been way too kind,' Loki muttered to himself, purposely keeping his eyes anywhere but on you. You could not figure out what has gotten into him so suddenly but you did not want to call him out in front of his mother. Frigga did see the look that you threw him, confused at the implications that he was making.

'Loki, my dear, jealousy has always been tasteless.' If anyone in the Nine Realms could put Loki in his place, it was the two women standing beside him right now. If you knew what this was all about, you would have found it funny but you did not and wondered how Loki came up with such a wrong idea. Before you could process the whole situation and ask further, the Queen excused herself on behalf of some royal attributions that she had to take care of. But a few seconds before getting out of sight she turned to the two of you to address Loki.

'That which flies but didn't come from you came from your heart.' The butterflies. How did Frigga know? Well, he did inherit his snooping rituals from someone, Loki realized. Those butterflies were a reaction to your touch and they must have meant a significant deal. For his heart to affect his magic and conjure illusions of its own. It looked like you did not follow what was going on but it was all for the better as he could only do so much to hide from you. Seeing as his mother caught him right in the act. 'What does that mean? Am I missing something?' you turned to fully face Loki but his expression gave you the sense that his mind was wandering somewhere else. 'Nothing of importance. I don't want to intrude on your time with Thor. I have to go as well.' When he turned to leave, you quickly caught his hand in yours. Feeling your touch almost soothed all of Loki's nerves and insecurities. Almost. 'You could never intrude. I was hoping you would come around. Thor wanted to tell you that he is expecting us to have a celebration. So you two could show me how you party in Asgard. Now between us, I bet it was just an excuse for him to get drunk, ' You smiled up at him and with the sun on your skin and in your eyes, the prince thought you could rival any goddess. He was not entirely fond of his brother's idea because that only meant having you spend additional time with Thor and his way too friendly hugs but he saw how excited you were. And who was he to oppose any of your desires?

So there you were now, opening the door to your room for Loki who was expecting you to head to the main hall. The place was enormous, illuminated by candles and chandeliers, with loud, high-spirited music reverberating off the stone walls and a long table hosting an entire feast. A magnificent display of food and drinks was crammed on the table and The Warriors were already enjoying the festivities. The moment you entered the room, Thor got up to embrace you and lift you off the ground. 'Lady Y/N, we were waiting for you.' He turned to his brother whose face was radiating displeasure and indifference towards the entire ordeal. 'I do not know how you do it but I have tried to convince Loki to join us for decades now and with no success.' 'I do wonder why,' Loki retorted, making a show of the fact that he did not want to be here at all. You pushed him with your elbow and he just rolled his eyes. Thor guided the two of you to sit next to him and you took your place between the two brothers. Thor and Fandral started to engage you in conversations and no matter how hard you tried to include Loki and to urge him to participate, he would not budge. He didn't have the most amicable history with these people but he was not about to ruin your time here with his meaningless drama.

Glass after glass, the mead started to get to your head and Loki had to sit and observe how his brother's jokes were made just to get a laugh or a reaction out of you. How Thor lingered more and more when he leaned in to explain a certain tradition to you. He felt like he was suffocating. From time to time, you turned to him to share an opinion or ask for information but he was cold and concise. He knew he was not being fair to you but he couldn't stop it. You sensed that something was off about him and you leaned in to ask if he was alright or wanted to leave time after time. He was too full of pride to say yes. And he saw how much you enjoyed the company.

But every single time you reached to touch his hand under the table he would retreat from you. And you got the wrong idea. With all of these people around and all of these beautiful ladies of the court watching him like he was the object of all of their desires, you concluded that he was ashamed of you. Who could blame him? When he had so many Asgardian women drooling over him, settling for a Midgardian seemed pathetic. So you turned to Thor and you took every single glass that was handed to you, emptying it. On the other side, Loki decided he could not take this anymore, he became invisible to you the moment his brother came into the picture and what did he expect really? That you wouldn't leave him for Thor? Just like everybody else did? So he got up and left without saying a word to you and you felt your heart shatter into billions. And when you did not stop him, his heart did too.

With the influence of all that alcohol and with Thor's untrue but soothing words, your thoughts started swirling. The blond prince kept asking about you and his brother, about what made you so upset tonight. He inquired time after time that Loki cared for you deeply and that he is just terrible at expressing himself. And you knew your Loki, he was like that but he knew that it was not the case with you. In all of these years, you must have proven to him that there was no one more important to you. That he always came first. 'My brother is not an affectionate man but he has love pouring out of him every single time you are near. And he has been so excited to bring you here, he was fidgeting the entire day before your arrival. There is no way he would be ashamed of such a marvellous woman when you are the only person he ever told Mother about.' Hearing about it from Thor's perspective made you reconsider your thoughts. Maybe you read Loki's gestures wrong. Downing your glass, you took Thor's word for it and got up to look for the God of Mischief.

‘Where have you been? I have been looking for you everywhereeee, Lokes,’ you stumbled a bit towards the balcony where you saw Loki sitting on his own. You could handle your alcohol well but you had no Asgardian system to fight this mead that Thor and Fandral praised like heaven. Still, stubborn as you were, you thought you could keep up with a God and his fierce hundred-year-old companions which only led you to be wasted beyond words. You drink responsibly though, as much as one could at Stark parties, but other than that you knew when to stop before going too far. This time around, you exceeded your expectations. And not in a good way. The room was spinning and your legs felt weak and funny and the light was too bright and the wind was too harsh.

But your love was on that balcony and you wanted nothing but to reach him and berate him for putting you in such a situation where you had to drown your sorrow in heavy drinks because you felt that he was mad at you or ashamed of being seen with you. And bored of you. Truth be told, seeing what Asgard has to offer only opened your eyes to how little you carry in comparison to his life here. How could he ever settle for you? No matter what Thor said, you kept questioning the ways in which Loki saw you. You weren’t normally so self-conscious when it came to him because no matter how high he kept those walls of his, you always knew you were standing on the other side. But maybe you were feeling needy and emotional lately and maybe being in love with your best friend who was a literal God didn’t help you either.

The moment he heard your voice, Loki was instantly on your side, placing a hand around your waist to steady you as you almost fell face-first into his chest. When his skin met yours, all worries and all of the harsh words were gone. He was the one who made you steady, now and in any other circumstances of your life. ‘Whoa there, are you alright, my dear?’ You giggled at the little endearment he always used on you which made you blush tonight more than usual. You were feverishly hot but Loki’s icy hands on your skin made you sigh and lean into him. He obliged without protesting at all and he took you into his arms, using one of his hands to move your hair out of your forehead and your eyes. You pulled back a little to be able to see him and if you would have been sober you would have noticed his eyes searching your face, filled with worry at your condition. But now you did not, you only knew that he left you alone halfway through the night and that he never came back. Frankly, you were incredibly upset with him over that, you remembered.

‘Why did you leave me? I missed your sweet pretty face,’ you said, pouting up at him. In your mind, you were supposed to scold him for it but it only ended up as a soft cry. You couldn’t mind though, you were upset about that and he should know. Loki couldn’t help but feel some strange feeling in his stomach at your words.

‘I am so so sorry, darling. I really should have stayed by your side.’ He was remorseful about it because he didn’t think you would miss him anyway and because he assumed you would stop drinking at a reasonable amount so you would just get dizzy. You were positively smashed. ‘How much did you have? That oaf, Thor should have stopped you when I left.’ ‘Oh stop it, grumpy. I’m alrighty-right,’ you started to laugh at your own words and tripped over your legs a bit which made you slide down into the prince’s arms. Loki gathered you up and reinforced his grip on you, looking behind him to spot the bench to which he guided you so you could sit. He placed you both down on the stone bench in the middle of the balcony and he kept one arm around you so you would not fall.

‘This is so cold, sunflower. I wanna sit in your arms,’ as you were saying this, Loki felt you fidget beside him and in a matter of seconds, you abruptly got up and seated yourself on his lap, with both of your hands behind his neck. He froze. His hands were dangling beside him and he didn’t know what to do with them and where to place them. You were dangerously close to him, your bodies pressed together. You placed your head on his shoulder and sighed. ‘Better.’ You murmured and his heart burst with affection at your small form clinging to him as if he was your anchor. He always found it strange, how you could find so much safety in him when he was seen as a source of danger by all the others. He had to gather all of his strength and courage to be able to place his hands on your waist, gingerly, while barely touching you so he wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable. Little did he know that he could never bring you anything but comfort. You shifted in his lap and raised your head to look at him. An exclamation escaped your lips and Loki thought he did something wrong but his fears were quickly dismissed when you started talking.

‘Oh my god, Loki! You are so pretty right now. My cute, pretty angel with his angel eyes and greasy hair,’ you laughed a sweet laugh and started playing with the locks at the base of his neck. The moonlight and the golden fairy lights of the balcony illuminated the God’s face in such a way that it made your intoxicated brain malfunction for a second. A much more sober version of you would have noticed the pink shade that Loki’s cheeks caught and maybe tease him about it but you were too taken by his hair and the funny way in which it curled at the base to care right now.

‘My hair is not greasy, thank you very much,’ he tried to cover up how nervous your comment made him with a snark reply but his voice came out softer and weaker than he could ever imagine it to be. He wanted to slap himself, how on Earth did he get all flustered because of a Midgardian? But you were no regular Midgardian, you were his strange, lovely Midgardian. You only laughed at him and booped his nose. The motion left him wide-eyed. You just booped the nose of a so-called psychotic God and went on as if it was the most natural course of action. And the mighty, oh-so-feared God happened to like it. Sober you would have been mortified to just position herself on her friend’s lap and fidget and move and touch him so much. You two were no lovers. Drunk you just needed the affection from the one she yearned for so she didn’t care about boundaries that she only saw because she was blind to spot that her feelings were reciprocated. It’s been like this for a while with the two of you, running after one another but never really stretching your hands so you could catch that person because rejection made your blood rot with uncertainty. Caught up in your contradictory thoughts, you drifted towards the land of dreams but not quite.

‘Let’s get you to bed,’ suddenly Loki moved to get up and lift you into his arms along with him but you struggled in his grip and started protesting that you are fine and that you can walk on your own. He eventually put you down only to find you turning in the opposite direction of your chambers and towards the party. He sighed and rolled his eyes, teleporting himself right in front of your giggling form and now thinking of it, it might not have been the wisest decision as you bumped into him and almost fell. Pressed against his chest, your hands were resting on his torso and his abdomen and your eyes quickly flickered down to them when you started tracing his muscles through his shirt.

‘Have I ever told you how hot I think you are? Well, scrap that. You are even hotter than I thought, look at these bad boys.’ You slapped your mouth and started giggling at what you just said but it was true and he should know, you thought. Loki’s cheeks were on fire, he was looking at you with his mouth agape, feeling like a schoolboy who just got told by his crush that they like him or something.

‘I-you …. Thanks, I guess.’ What even was that? So much for the Silvertongue when he has been stuttering like he’s never talked to a woman ever before. What an idiot, he thought of himself, he was so taken with you that any small compliment you might pay him made his insides burst with joy. You stood up straighter and pulled your dress down a little more so Loki left his hands to linger on you but he gave you enough space to test if you could sit on your own. You finally lifted your eyes to look at him and you saw his rosy cheeks. A rush of confidence instantly came over you.

‘Did you get all shy for me, Silvertongue?’ A teasing tone enriched your voice and just because it was you who used it, Loki allowed it and got increasingly flustered. If he would have been a different man, he would be at a loss for words now but he was still the God of Mischief.

‘Let me hear that smart mouth of yours talk like that when you are not intoxicated, love,’ a playful smirk twisted the corners of his mouth and you just rolled your eyes at him.

‘Yeah yeah, drop the act with me, you’re pretty when you blush.’ You dodged him now and continued your way back to the party hall but Loki was hot on your tail.

‘I don’t blush,’ the God stated more to himself than to you but even he didn’t believe it. Even in this state, you were incredibly infuriating but he followed you, watching every step you make and catching you by your waist every single time you stumbled. Before pushing the doors of the room open, you grabbed his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers.

‘You have to dance with me tonight, come on, let’s just have fun,’ you pleaded with him and those big eyes of yours made Loki give in. Besides, who was he to deny you a little mischief? Hand in hand, you walked back into the heart of the party and Thor all but jumped up from his seat, positioning himself between the two of you and placing a hand on your shoulder and one on Loki’s. The younger prince rolled his eyes at his brother coming between the two of you once again but then Thor started mumbling nonsense (more than he usually does, Loki thought) so he let the feeling of annoyment go. His brother was rivalling your drunkness. And that was confirmed when he began making inquiries that should not have been made.

‘Where did you two lovers go? Loki, I know you wanna spend as much time with your lady as you can but don’t spoil the fun now.’ The God of Mischief threw his brother a stern look and he turned to see your reaction to that implication but you were only laughing and humming along to the song that was playing. ‘Let’s dance!’ Thor shouted and a common cheer filled the room as the upbeat song that was playing got louder. You took both of the brothers’ hands and started spinning to the rhythm. Thor grasped your and Loki’s hand despite your best friend’s protests and the three of you just jumped and turned while singing the melody. Loki pretended to be baffled at first but then seeing you laugh with so much life in your eyes made him loosen up a little. ‘Come on, brother, just like the old times,’ Thor was smiling as well and despite who he tried to pose as in front of the world, Loki’s heart was happy right now so he let go of all insecurities and he gave into the joy of his brother and that of the woman he loved. Both of you stumbled a lot due to your state but Loki was there to steady the group and laugh at the scene. Songs and rhythms changed and after a while, Thor left the small circle in search of some drinks. Everyone around you was just enjoying the night and you just resumed your dancing, grabbing both of Loki’s hands into your own. At once, you started spinning to the fast-paced song, Loki’s hands in yours, eyes locked with each other, smiles brighter than the Sun. The young God was laughing as he watched you, with your rosy cheeks and wild hair and sparkling eyes, in the blue dress that flowed around you like waves and he decided, right then and there that if he could just have you in his life forever, he wouldn’t need anything else. And it dawned on him as if all of the bricks of the castle would have fallen on his shoulders, that he will never love someone as much as he loves you. And he knew he won’t be able to ever tell you this but for a fleeting second, he imagined he already did and you felt the same and this was a celebration.

‘You make me the happiest,’ he blurted out once you two stopped and your hands were rested on his chest as he caught you at the end of your little dance. You were both panting and looking at one another and you smiled the biggest smile he’s ever seen and stood up on your toes to press a deep, wet kiss onto his cheek. He was red as a crab right now and he even saw your cheeks catch a darker shade of pink but he didn’t care. He had to fight the urge to lift his hand and touch the place where your soft lips have just been.

‘And you, me.’ And there they were again. Those three damned words that he wanted to say to you, that were crawling at the flesh of his chest just to be let out but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t be so selfish with you to allow himself to let it all out and place the burden of having to turn him down on your delicate shoulders. He could only dream. You were his dream of dreams and he will keep you sheltered in the softest parts of his mind till the end of time. ‘My feet hurt,’ you suddenly announced with a pout and Loki had to mentally slap himself at how much he wanted to grab your face and smash his lips into yours now. The moon was at its peak but it was way past the middle of the night and the prince thought you should rest. Of course, you did not plan on that and protested at the preposition. So he got on one knee in front of you and started to untie your heel.

‘Do you think you can hold on to me, darling? I don’t want you to lose your balance.’ He was meticulously working on the strap of your shoe that he failed to realize how everyone in the room stopped to watch, shocked at seeing Loki of Asgard kneel in front of you. A Midgardian, on top of that. He has never kneeled in front of anyone, not even the All-Father in his latest years and yet here he was. On his knees in front of you. You two were so caught up in your lovely little world that you failed to notice though. And Loki was so caught up in you that he didn’t even think anything of what he was doing. He’d turn the world around for you or burn realms if it came to that. So it all came naturally. Seated at the table between his companions, Thor smiled at the scene. He never thought he would see the day his little brother would finally allow someone in. Clearing his throat, he warned everyone around to let you two be. And they did.

The night went on for hours but not more than 20 minutes later, you allowed Loki to trick you into going up to your room. Your headache was already bad enough so you decided to let him have it his way. Just this time. ‘Loki, I have to tell you something, a secret,’ you dramatically whispered the last part ‘and I want you to let me finish this because we both know you always wanna have the last word.’ You went on as he was carrying you in his arms, along the cold hallways of the castle, up to your rooms. You did not want to teleport because you hated how he made your insides spin, you said, so there you were.

‘That is completely untrue, you al-‘ ‘Shh, what did I say?’ You rolled your eyes at him and shifted a bit into his arms. ‘Now I am not going to scold you because it is pointless when you look at me with those ridiculously blue eyes as if you don’t know that you are guilty yourself and just do it to spite me an-‘ ‘I don’t, I am truly always right, my dar-‘ You shushed him again, groaning in desperation at him. He loved how fired up you got so he planned on cutting you off again anyway. ‘Loki of Asgard, I am not finished. Now you deciding to forsake me tonight got me upset and that is why I decided to drink so much. And that was a bad call cause I shouldn’t let you and your toned muscles and your filthy voice affect me so much but it got me here, thinking…’ ‘My voice is rich and regal, I am not a tramp, you are hurting my feeli-‘ ‘Shhhhhhh.’ You placed both of your hands on his mouth to shut him up and he licked them. He licked them to make you get them away. ‘Eww, Loki. You are supposed to be a prince,’ you said, scrunching up your nose which made him burst into laughter that he tried to contain for your sake but you could feel his entire chest shaking.

‘Play nice, now.’ You warned, rolling your eyes. ‘Darling, I am playing nice, you don’t want to see me play any other way.’ He pretended to switch his tone of voice to a thicker one. ‘I am so scared, wooo.’ You mocked him with a motion of your hands up in the air and he pretended to drop you. That made you squeak and tighten your hands around his neck. ‘You are strangling me, Y/N.’ Loki faked a strained voice but you knew better. ‘Don’t act like you don’t like it.’ The man carrying you almost choked hearing you make such innuendos. But you were so nonchalant about it that he pretended he didn’t just lose his breath for a minute. You have been a wild ride tonight, from start to finish.

You loved being this wasted no matter how much pain it will cause you in the morning but the lack of limits and anxiety just allowed you to feel as if you could say whatever you feel like and move along with it. You are substantially bold as a person and you do think some of these comments when you are sober as well but you don’t let them slip. Tonight you couldn’t care less. The man you loved was carrying you into his arms and laughing and smiling as if you’d never seen him and seeing him happy only made you feel ecstatic yourself. Loki meant the world to you and being here, in his home and seeing parts of him that you never did before only brought you closer to the simplest truth there was. That you were utterly in love with the God of Mischief. Pathetic, right? As if you could ever stand a chance to win and tame the heart of such a man. But for one night only, you pretended you could. The alcohol in your bloodstream allowed you to dive deeper into your heart and your desires and to voice some of them to him.

‘You know what I also thought about tonight while we were dancing?’ ‘Surprise me,’ Loki expected another pointless observation from your fuzzy brain as he opened the door to your chambers, heading towards your neatly made bed. He gently placed you in the middle of the soft, silky sheets and turned on your small bedside lamp. The instant you felt that you lost his touch, you whined and got up on one elbow looking for the prince that was just placing your heels in their dresser. ‘Where did you go? I miss you,’ you complained and Loki chuckled at how needy you were right now. He loved it. So he sat down next to you, pulling you in to rest on his chest. This felt right. And yet, that feeling that you felt for the entirety of the night was still nagging in the corners of your mind. No matter how Loki acted now, you still felt bothered by how he acted at that table. Was this a charade? A game he was playing right now that it was just the two of you? You knew his friendship with you was genuine but what of his other feelings? If there were any. You were almost sure it was not the case but maybe you were feeling more hopeful tonight. Maybe what Thor told you ad an effect on your stupid, credulous mind.

'Nice to see you are not ashamed of touching me now.' Your reproach did not have the effect that you expected on Loki. You thought he might vehemently deny it or just confess to it but he was purely, deeply confused. 'What? I would never be ashamed of you Y/N.' He turned his entire body so he could face you properly, taking both of your hands in his. You let him. You wouldn't have if you were sober but you needed to feel him right now. 'Really? Then why didn't you let me even grasp your hand tonight, Loki? I know I am no lady of this court but I thought you cared about me enough to -' 'Let me stop you right there before you blurt out any more nonsense. How could you ever come up with such a twisted, wrong idea? I consider myself the luckiest man to be able to have you by my side. Ever since you came here, I only ever felt so proud to have you near me. What could have made you think this?' His eyes were nothing but the raw truth and his grip on your hands tightened ever so slightly. And he meant every word of it. Loki was beyond delighted that you accepted his invitation and that he could show you off. The most bewitching of women was his guest. 'Then why did you leave me tonight? Why were you so cold?' So this is what it was all about. Proving that what he is saying is real would mean that Loki has to admit to his stupid jealousy. And he did not know if he was ready for that. But all that uncertainty in your eyes drove him mad. How could you ever feel uncertain regarding his feelings towards you?

'My love, I was being a fool. I just hated seeing how well you get on with my brother and I was afraid.' You could not help but notice the endearment that he just used to call you. He has never called you 'his love' before. It made your heart positively jump in your throat. 'Afraid of what, Loki? You know I would always choose you first. You are my favourite, Mischief.' He couldn't help but smile brightly at that. 'I know now. But sometimes I do forget.' He pulled you in again and as you settled on his chest, he kissed the top of your head. You believed him. You knew how insecure he was when it came to Thor and you knew that he cared for you. He would not be here, holding you if he didn't. You sat in silence for a while. Ýou just enjoyed each other's company until Loki felt like he couldn't keep everything in anymore. He had to at least let you know about his true feelings for you. Even if it was in a cryptic manner. And you might just forget in the morning. You surely will, won't you? But he would know that he at least said it.

'Y/N?' He whispered, checking if you were still awake. He started trembling slightly with nerves when you hummed but you seemed so taken by sleep and with all that alcohol in your system that he told himself it was now or never. Tomorrow morning, you will wake up and forget about anything he might confess now, in the darkest hour of the night but his heart would not feel so heavy. So heavy with love and longing and lust.

'You are no lady of this court, that is true. Because if it were by me you would be the Queen of this court, my Queen.' You smiled into his chest, pulling him closer. You were almost on the verge of sleep and too drunk to reply now. You actually thought you might be dreaming so you let your heart speak its truth. 'And you are the King of my heart, love.' And with that, a realm of dreams of love and affection swept you away from Loki, in the most peaceful sleep you had in a while. And even though your voice was almost inaudible he heard it. And his heart has never felt such hope and happiness. And neither did yours. But will your mind remember it in the morning?

~This was a bit long and I think of turning it into a two-part story if you would like that. There are many unanswered questions and loose ends between these two best friends. I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know. Part 2 is below.~

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years ago

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Cupid in love

Pairing: Cupid!Jaehyun x female!reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, angst?

WC: 3,150k

Warnings: FANTASY GALORE. rough break up sex, unprotected sex, slight nipple play, swearing, mentions of other idols

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time.. For NCT-WRITERS Cafe Resonance

—————

Walking around the mall alone and witnessing yet another beautiful, and successful Valentines Day for the year of 2021 and you’re the only person in the world who knew the man behind this beautiful day.

“Alone during Valentine’s day Y/n? Jaehyun hyung can’t come?” Mark, the waiter from the cafe asked you while he serves you your third round of your favorite warm drink. This is where you and Jaehyun first met, and you have been celebrating Valentines day for nearly three years here now just because Jaehyun can see all the lovers holding hands through that clear glass. All his hard work has paid off.

But tonight, he is already two hours late and you wonder why because he has never been late on Valentine’s Day.

“Uhm, Jaehyun will be a little bit late. Business trip. But I completely understand his schedule” you smiled and thanked him.

Of course you’re not sad that Jaehyun couldn’t make it on time this year. Maybe he got caught up with a little work an emergency perhaps? But you do hope that this is nothing serious.

Three Valentine’s Day ago

You were sitting quietly at Cafe Resonance with a warm drink on your side. Just admiring the happy couples that are enjoying the day with flowers, sweets, and different kinds of surprises. It was a normal day for you, but not until a very handsome man sat in front of you on the other side of the table. Giving you three pieces of Cafe Resonance’s Valentine cookies.

A cupid in his human form. Came out to play and enjoy his day for his own selfish needs. The gods forbade Jaehyun to celebrate his own day so he could stay pure like the god that he is and remain sinless and worthy. But the young cupid is full of passion and curiosity that he took his chance to walk on Earth and make himself meet someone that can satisfy his physical wants.

“The cafe manager said that if I want someone to fall on love with me, I should give them a Valentine cookie” he said and flashed a very handsome smile at you. Knowing all too well that what the manager told him was complete bullshit, because no one can force love to happen with anyone but him.

At least that’s what he knew.

Your first encounter with Jaehyun was surprisingly refreshing and fun. You ate all the cookies that he gave and to be honest you only did that to show him that you’re interested with him too, and also it’s not so bad to fall in love with someone like him. He’s nice, decent and well mannered. Though it’s pretty obvious that he’s after for some Valentine’s sex, and you have no problem with that.

At the end of the day, the man made you scream in bed, fucked you on the wall and made you cum for more three times using his cock. He sure knew how to fuck, you thought.

But the bitter feeling and ugly thought of waking up without him by yourself the next day is something you don’t want to happen so even though you’re dead tired from the sex, you try si hard not to sleep yet and make the best of this moment by asking too much questions to him that he likes answering.

Was the valentine cookie from Cafe Resonance real? Is it really possible for you to fall in love with a stranger?

“Go sleep. I promise I’m still here when you wake up” he said.

And he kept his promise not only the day after Valentine’s Day, but also for the next few weeks. Who would expect that a cupid who just wanted to have fun during his day, wasn’t so immune with love after all. And who would expect that he’s willing to be punished by the gods because of you? But what amazes Jaehyun the most, is how you fell in love with him. Because even as a cupid, he didn’t made you like him or used his powers for his selfishness.

Either way, he still refused on believing that the Valentine cookie was real and effective. Such kind of love mustn’t be tolerated he thought.

Life with Jaehyun was sweet and real. Too beautiful to ruin. That’s why when Jaehyun said that he’s leaving, you didn’t take it lightly which soon lead to your first fight.

Jaehyun didn’t have much of a choice but to tell you the truth. Even though you just laughed at him when he finally said the words, he secretly hoped that you’d still understand because he believes that you love him.

“I don’t have a choice Y/n. I’ve been away for months now. I am neglecting my duty as a cupid, by this time the happy couples that we saw during Valentine’s day could have broken up already because I’m not around” he explains frustratedly.

“So you’re saying that you’re the cupid and couples can break up because you’re not around. Because you’ve been busy being happy with me?”

“Yes” he answered weakly and reached for your hand to kiss it. Promising you that he will come back and find you. “It’s just for a year. I’ll sort everything out and I promise I’ll give the love that you deserve”

And as Jaehyun left you as soon as the truth was revealed, you let him leave you with a big doubt and judgement in your heart. Is he secretly married and you’re a mistress now? Have you done something wrong to make him leave you like this? And these ugly thoughts ran thru your mind for months and months during his absence.

During your wait for Jaehyun’s return, you decided to move on and just date anyone to forget everything about Jaehyun. But every time that you plan a date with someone, the set date will be either cancelled or the guy won’t show up. Little did you know that Jaehyun is the man behind those unfortunate events. Secretly watching you from a cloud above you, guiding you towards patience until he returns and win your heart again.

It was not easy for Jaehyun to see you like this, purposely forgetting everything about him like he was just a dream to you. He can’t let that happen, for he knew that what you have is love.

On the next Valentine’s Day, you can’t believe who showed up in your doorstep. He didn’t change a bit, and neither his feelings for you.

“Can I come inside?” the cupid asked nervously.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but seriously what are you doing here Jae?”

“I told you I’d come back right? I’m here now, and we don’t have much time-“

“I have a boyfriend now so please leave me alone”

“That’s a lie. I know everything about you, I’ve watch you every day from above for a whole year. Please just believe me. Don’t push me away, I kept my promise didn’t I? I’m here now”

And the thought of Jaehyun keeping his promise was enough for you to welcome him in but your heart is still cold and broken because of what happened from the past.

As you and Jaehyun sit and have a decent conversation, he showed his wings which is enough proof to believe him that he really is the cupid. You were speechless for hours, and your apartment’s for corners was suffocating you so Jaehyun decided to have a walk with you.

He wanted to hold your hand like every couple he sees now. He wanted to whisper how much he misses you and loves you. Ironic isn’t it? He’s the cupid who spreads love on Earth but he can’t have love for himself.

“So how old are you?” you finally spoke. Those were your first words after seeing his wings, and that was four hours ago.

“Human age is 25, but cupid age... I have no idea but let’s say almost 127 years old? That’s still young in cupid years” he smiled and let out a small laugh. Completely missing that you’re shocked to the core upon hearing his age. But now that you know more truths about him, the normal thing you would do was react hysterically and make him leave you alone. Surprisingly, you wanted to hear more about him. To hear more about the truth.

“Tell me more?” You said shyly, slowly reaching for his hand for you to hold and hold it tightly. Oh you missed him.

He smiled so big and reached in for a kiss on the forehead before he tells you more about him and to what he do. The simple walk turned into a date, and of course he brought you to Cafe Resonance to celebrate your reunion and basically your first year of knowing each other. And when you got back to your apartment, he immediately brought you to your room and fucked you all night in different positions.

“When are you going to leave?” you asked while drawing circles on his chest and savouring his warmth.

“Tomorrow” he answered weakly and tightens his embrace, “I can’t be away from duty like what I did last year. The gods might not let me see you if I continue to be stubborn”

“It’s sad. But I understand, and at least now I have something to look forward to”

Three Valentine’s Day later

Thru the years of being together, even when you don’t see each other everyday, Jaehyun always finds a way to show his love for you thru unexpected things. Big or small.

Like during your birthdays, he always sends gifts to you with sweet and short notes. Or like whenever you wake up on your side of the bed and see a feather on his side of the bed. That simply means he’s always with you, like an angel.

This year’s Valentine’s day marks your three years if staying in love with each other, and you’re more than excited with seeing him today. But given that he was hours and hours late already, you decided to call it a day and go home to rest. Maybe he will come by the next day? Nonetheless, you still believe that he will do everything just to be with you.

Three days later, he’s still nowhere to be found and it’s weird how you can’t feel him watching you anymore. What is happening?

“Hi Y/n” Mark greeted you with his normal cheerful aura. “Were you and Jaehyun supposed to meet? You completely missed him. It’s weird actually, he came here not have some coffee but instead he had a talk with the manager”

“Uh- yeah, sorry. I guess I’ll see him at home then,” you answered awkwardly and forgot the cake that you purchased.

When you came back to your apartment, finally you see his unique figure standing by the window and staring blankly at the sky.

“I thought you forgot about me, are you okay? Jaehyun?” You hugged him from behind and kissed his broad shoulders.

“Sorry about that, how are you?” He turned around and return the hug and kisses. Saying that he’s really sorry for leaving you hanging on a very special day.

“I’m fine. What happened? Is there something wrong? You look troubled” you asked, but he didn’t answer your question but instead he kissed you deeply and motioned you towards your bedroom, making a trail of discarded clothes on the floor.

And once you landed on your bed, Jaehyun immediately went on top of you and kissed your neck, all the way down to the valley between your boobs while kneading them and sucking them. His breathing was heavy and you quickly noticed it. You wanted to make him stop and make him talk, but you’re too late.

He already spread your legs wide and positioned himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you so handsomely as he starts touching your pussy with his thumb. Up and down he makes you wet and sensitive, not to mention he was really gentle and slow. At first you thought he was going to fuck you already, but to you surprise he put his two fingers inside you and came closer to you again, to suck your nipples and bite them softly until he’s satisfied.

Swollen and sensitive, that’s how he left your nipples and starts lining his cock on your entrance, slowly pushing in his cock. “Fuck” he comments with a grunt. Putting every inch of his thick and veiny cock inside of you, moving his hips slowly. His head rests on the crook of you neck, his breath tickling you but all you can do now is moan.

Moan and keep him close with your arms wrapped around his frame. And when you whispered “I love you, Jaehyun” that instantly melted his heart and fucked you even more deliciously. But he also wished you didn’t say it to him because now he knows your love is not real. Cafe resonance put you in a spell and only your true love can break it.

He got up from his comfort close to your body and got a hold on your hips, slightly lifting it so he could fuck you harder and so he could see your boobs bounce up and down, grip it whenever he wants to, pinch it whenever he wants to and suck it whenever he wants to.

Suddenly, he pulled out completely only to push back in a little harsher that your head hit the head board. He did it again. Making you hiss with the stretch from your cunt, but the pleasure is driving you insane. He then started to lick your neck and chest, pinning your arms on your side while he fucks you harder. Your moans became louder and you started gripping the sheets and just stop fighting the feeling, and accepting the intensity of every thrust Jaehyun gives you.

“Why are you so rough tonight?” You asked with ragged breaths, toes started curling, and you begged him to go slower because you don’t want to cum yet but he didn’t listen.

He made you cum for the first time tonight and it wasn’t anything you’ve ever had before. You gripped the pillow so tight, moaned his name weakly, and let you shiver and curl beneath him while his hands still roams around your body, his cock still inside you and he hasn’t cum yet, a sign that he is not yet done with you.

Little did you know, he’s scanning every inch of you, engraving your beauty while you’re naked in his mind. For this is your last night together.

“I wanted to talk-“

Jaehyun started talking but to his surprise you voluntarily move your hips and started fucking yourself. He was sure he made you weak already and fucked you hard, how is possible that you still wanted to go for another round? But he wasn’t complaining, in fact he loves the image of you fucking yourself and using him to go off.

“That’s right baby, fuck me. Go deeper” and so you followed what he wanted, after all you’re not doing this for your own pleasure, you’re doing this because you wanted him to cum too.

With widely spread legs and bouncing tits, you moved your hips up and down while Jaehyun is kneeling in between your legs and you have a complete view of Jaehyun’s fucked out face. Eyebrows furrowing, parted swollen pink lips, chanting your name over and over again and telling you how much he loves what he’s seeing and feeling.

“Oh fuck Y/n, you feel so good”

“Fuck baby”

“Go slower, I don’t want to cum yet-“

But you didn’t gave into his request simply because he didn’t go slow earlier with you. So you moved your hips faster, up and down and put on a show for him by kneading your boobs in front of him and pinching your sensitive nipples to make yourself clench around him.

In a matter of seconds, Jaehyun’s hands are around your rib, perfectly placed under your boobs, and your legs are folded so he could go deeper. He took over until he’s finally shooting his warm, thick cum inside you. Satisfied for what you’ve done to him because he landed on top of your body, so weak and his legs are still shaking.

Too tired to clean the cum dripping from your hole, too comfortable in Jaehyun’s arms and presence that you never want to let go.

On the next day, you woke up quite late and you’re all alone in your cold bed. Though you’re completely cleaned and dressed, maybe Jaehyun took care of you last night before he leaves.

Scanning your apartment for something Jaehyun left, a small note or a flower placed somewhere... but you didn’t find anything. He usually leaves with a promise of seeing together again. Maybe he forgot?

When Jaehyun found out the truth about that Valentine cookie, he immediately hated himself for giving it to you and being the root of his heartbreak right now. He needs to fix this by looking for someone that will love you despite still having his effect on you. He’s positive that once your true love showed up, you will completely forget and move on from him.

It’s weird how this year, all you did was feel an unexplainable pain in your chest. A year full of pain and you dont know where your heartbreak is coming. Not to mention, Jaehyun hasn’t been making you feel his presence lately. That’s why you feel so lonely.

6 months have already passed since the last time that you saw him. And suitors always comes in the way, and you wonder how and why because you knew Jaehyun would get rid of them.

And as months passes by, you continue to fool yourself and still believe that Jaehyun will come back to you. Even tho you felt nothing from his presence the whole year.

Until finally, you received a note from him on Valentine’s day 2022.

Go to Cafe Resonance tonight -JH

And so you did, with a big smile on your face and with a new dress you bought specifically for this occasion. You waited for his arrival, looking at your watch every minute... but he never came. Instead, he sent you another note given bu the manager of Cafe Resonance.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” Manager Chenle said handling you the note that contains the saddest news you’ve ever received.

But just before you could open the note, someone sat in front of you and asked permission to share the table with you because everywhere else is full.

“Yes its fine,” you said without even looking at him and proceed to minding your own business. Reading Jaehyun’s last note to you that says.

He is a good man, full of love and has a heart of gold. He is the one destined for you, not me. The love I can give to you, has no match to what he can give to you. I’m sorry.

“By the way I’m Johnny”

The man reached out his hand for you to shake, smiling so handsomely at you. It’s weird how your heart instantly skipped a beat. Jaehyun how could you do this to me.

#neocafe #nct-writers #neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kpopscape #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #jaehyung angst #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut

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lucyintheskywithxanax · 4 years ago

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Butterfly Wings In My Heart

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Requested by @sapphicsarahpaulson “ “can i stay here tonight?” and “i love seeing you smile” for mina x reader? “

A/N: I’m so happy with how this piece turned out. I hope you’ll like it, too ❤️️ As always, English isn’t my mother tongue, so expect a few weird sentences. x

Word count: ~ 4 500

You leaned forward to adjust the purple fairy lights you had just hung to the ceiling, and almost lost your balance and fell off the ladder.

“Careful,” Venable called.

You glanced down at her with a grin. “It’s so nice to know you care,” you sang.

Venable’s jaw tightened as she shot you a look. “I don’t. I’m not particularly eager to have you crash down into me.”

“Then don’t stand there,” you quipped. You leaned forward again, fidgeted with the lights until you were satisfied. “I’m done anyway.”

Clumsily you climbed down the ladder and planted yourself in front of Venable. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face as you met her eyes and she glared, squinting slightly at you, her right hand clutching the knob of her cane.

“Those are so pretty don’t you think?” you said, nodding at the string of purple lights. She glanced up at it.

“Mutt and Jeff asked for red lights,” she said in that deep, cold voice of hers.

You shrugged, looked down at the floor.”Too bad. I thought you’d like these better.”

You eagerly looked at her out of the corner of your eye to gauge her reaction; nothing. You were about to roll your eyes at her when the corner of her mouth twitched and stretched into a small, fond, almost shy smile – and your heart sang with joy.

She didn’t smile a lot, Ms Venable. There were the small, incredulous smiles when someone said or did something that scared her. There were the mean, condescending smiles, like a predator baring its teeth. Those smiles no one was eager to see, for they presaged bad things. Cruel things. They weren’t really smiles at all, you thought.

But once in a while she would smile a smile that was genuine and fond. Those were as rare as seeing the moment a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. What made them even more special was, she seemed to give them to you only. Your heart had stopped beating, actually stopped beating, the first time you had seen her face soften and her eyes light up and her mouth curl up. You had felt so grateful, and so honored, to be allowed to witness such a sight. Since that day you had been starving for it.

It was so beautiful, that smile. So you decided it was your own sacred duty to find what would conjure it every single day of the rest of your life.

Stupid jokes didn’t work. They would only make Venable glare at you condescendingly. One day you asked one of your coworkers to hit you in front of her, to see if it would make her laugh, as you knew that worked with babies. Venable gave you a look as if you had gone mad – maybe you had. Infatuations tended to turn your brain into mush.

You tried to compliment her – you only got a snarky comment or a contemptuous look in return. You tried to bring her gifts, a cup of coffee she didn’t ask for, a book you loved, a lavender scarf you had spotted in a shop window and which had reminded you of her – a polite, if slightly cold, thank you.

And then one Monday morning as you told her about your weekend while she made coffee, she glanced sideways at you and here it was – here it was, the sparkle in her eyes, the curling of her lips, the fondness and the beauty and the colorful butterfly wings that made your heart flutter.

Casual conversations. Just you and her, talking about nothing in particular. Not you goofing around, not you putting a gloss on your personality to try and please her. Just you being yourself. That’s what made her smile.

You had to run to the nearest bathroom like a fool, your chest bursting with emotion. With one hand on either side of the sink you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes wide and glassy, not quite daring to believe what had just happened. You could have burst into tears. Your head and your heart were full of her.

You tried again the day after, just to make sure you had not been dreaming. You walked to her office during your lunch break, leaned against the doorway, asked her a few questions about work. She looked up from her computer and locked eyes with you. She always listened to you with attention, never cutting you off, nodding to what you said, asking you for more details. It made you feel so special, so appreciated and understood. Most people always seemed bored with you. They would start talking to someone else even though you were in the middle of a sentence, or only hum and change the subject, or never raise their eyes from their phones while they had lunch with you. You had grown used to it, accepted it, thought it was okay and normal. No one liked having to spend time with boring people.

But Venable always listened to you. She seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. And she smiled – oh, she smiled, for no reason at all. As if the mere sound of your voice was the most beautiful, the most charming thing she had ever heard. And just as she liked hearing you talk, so did you: she was smart, sharp-witted and educated. You could listen to her speak for hours.

So today when you had offered to help decorating the room for the dance, and your gaze had fallen on the purple fairy lights tangled in a cardboard box, all you’d been able to think about had been Venable, and that maybe if the universe was kind enough she would be grateful, and maybe, just maybe, she would hold your hand, or stroke your cheek.

“I appreciate your intention, Y/N,” Venable said. “But as you already know I won’t be attending the dance, so who cares if I like the decoration.”

You pursed your lips to hide your annoyance and disappointment. “Are you sure about that?” you asked, assuming a causal expression, as if you were starting a conversation about the weather.

“Sure about what?”

“Not attending the dance. It means so much to Jeff and Mutt, and it’s not every day a company turns fifteen. Besides, you’ve done so much for Kineros, you should come and enjoy the fun.”

“Idiots prancing about all night long isn’t exactly my definition of fun,” Venable retorted.

“What if I asked you to go with me? As my date?”

What on Earth had made you bold enough to ask her that, you didn’t know. But she looked so damn beautiful under the fairy lights with that fiery red hair and those eyes and those cheekbones, you couldn’t hold your words and your admiration back. But maybe you should have, because now she looked mad.

“Excuse me?” she said, her voice laced with outrage.

You lowered your chin sheepishly, heat flooding your cheeks.”I mean… if you want to, of course.”

“I don’t,” she snapped.

Something in her voice, or maybe in the way her eyes widened slightly and her grip on her cane tightened, made you bold again.

“Are you sure?”you asked, taking one step towards her. She held her ground.

“I’m sure.”

You raised one hand, twisted a strand of your hair around your finger.

“Because I was thinking we could go together, and maybe dance together, and when we’re tired of all those ‘idiots’ I could drive you to my place and make you some dinner.”

Venable was glaring at you as if you had insulted her. But then, very slowly, part of her anger melted and her eyes seemed to veil over with an almost wistful look.

“Think about it,” you smiled.

Venable scoffed. “There’s nothing to think about. My decision is made.”

“Maybe so. But can you think about it?”

And before she had time to retort, you leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek, then fled the room before she could cane you.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for half an hour.” A hand, closing around your shoulder; red hair, tickling your neck. Venable leaned over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “Do you think I hired you so you could waste your time daydreaming?”

You gulped, heat flooding your cheeks, and squirmed on your chair as your whole body tingled and suddenly came alive in her presence.

“I’m sorry, Ms Venable.” Your voice was raspy; you cleared your throat. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Venable hummed. She tapped one finger on your shoulder and blew hot air through her nose on the skin of your neck.

“You’re standing awfully close to me,” you rasped.

Venable smirked. “That’s rich, coming from someone who has no respect for personal space.”

Her fingers curled on your shoulder, nails raking the fabric of your shirt, and then she straightened and left, leaving you with your heart beating madly in your chest and heat pooling between your legs.

Before you left that day, you knocked on her office door. She looked up from her computer and smiled, before she remembered to school her features. Then she glared, and you couldn’t help but grin giddily at her.

“What do you want?” she snapped. “I’m busy.”

“I was just wondering if you had changed your mind about the dance tonight.”

She didn’t even bother to answer you and focused her attention back on her work. You waited for a few seconds, listening to the sound of her fingers tapping on the keyboard. Then you leaned against the wall and crossed your arms on your chest.

“Do you plan on going back home before it starts?” you asked. “I can pick you up at your place at 7, and then we can –“

“What part of ‘I am not coming’ does your feeble brain not understand?” Venable said, raising her head to look at you, her eyes cold and mean.

“Why not?”you retorted.

Anger flared in her eyes. “That is none of your business.”

You waited a few moments, and then said in a quiet, soothing voice, “I’d really love to dance with you.”

Her fingers froze above the keyboard. She shot you a surprised look over the rim of her glasses, and you gave her a warm smile.

Something in her face softened. It almost looked – almost – as if some of her walls had crumbled down. For a moment you saw her as she must look like in the morning, relaxed and peaceful, eyes soft, limbs heavy with sleep. Your heart swelled and fluttered with affection. But then she reached for her cane and wrapped her fingers around the knob.

“I hate dancing,” she said sharply.

“That’s fine. We can still enjoy each other’s company.”

She squinted at you, jaw tightening. “I do not enjoy your company,” she mocked, imitating your intonation.

You pretended that did not hurt. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other and tried to smile again, but it looked more like an ugly grimace. She noticed, and her expression softened.

For a long moment there was only silence. Her eyes were scrutinizing you, dark and unreadable. Just as you were about to give up and leave, she tapped her cane on the floor, making you jump. “You can meet me here at 7:30,” she said. “Be prompt.”

Your hands were sweating. Your heart was beating madly in your chest, as if it wanted to free its way out of you. You smoothed your hands over your clothes, over and over again, as you made your way towards Venable’s office. You had changed into evening wear, nothing too fancy, sprayed perfume on your wrists and neck. The corridors were buzzing with the excited voices of your coworkers, happy, carefree for a night. It almost felt like prom night.

You stopped in front of Venable’s office door, swallowed, took a deep breath for courage, and knocked. The door opened immediately, startling you.

Venable was still in her work clothes, ponytail as neat as ever, face beautiful. You couldn’t help but gaze at her in awe.

“Hello,” you muttered after a while.

Venable shot you a disdainful look. She closed the door and said, “Let’s go. I want to get it over with.”

“Always a pleasure,” you muttered. She didn’t reply.

Side by side you walked to the room where the dance was to be held. It was already crowded with people, people calling each other and waving, people gathered around the buffet, people guffawing and laughing. You spotted Mutt and Jeff in the middle of the room, faces flushed with pride. Two huge pink and yellow balloons, in the shape of a 1 and a 5, hung from the ceiling.

You scanned the crowd, excitement and joy gradually seeping into you. You had always loved parties, always loved the feeling of belonging and of freedom, the heat of bodies all around you. It made you feel strong. You started bouncing on your toes, smiling at familiar faces, laughing as one of your coworkers made a face at you on his way back from the buffet. How you loved parties.

Venable, on the contrary, had tensed up the minute she had stepped into the room. She stood tall and proud, head held high, posture impeccable, but you noticed how tightly she was gripping her cane, and caught a glimpse of the fear in her eyes. Someone brushed past her too close for comfort and she almost recoiled. She was nervous, ill at ease. Her eyes darted from one face to another as if she were expecting a slap or a jeer from anyone.

“Come on,” you said, nodding to a table in a corner. “It’ll be quieter over there.”

As you reached the table, the music started; Blondie, Heart of Glass. Mutt threw his arms up in the air and gave a happy yell. Venable shot him a contemptuous look.

“Are you hungry?” you asked her. “Sit down, I’ll go get us something to eat.”

You threaded your way through the crowd to the buffet, grabbed two plates and piled food on them. You had no idea what Venable liked, so you chose a bit of everything: vegetables, meat, rice, a thick slice of bread. One of your coworkers came up to you and made a few jokes before her partner dragged her to the dance floor in the middle of the room. You watched them wistfully for a few seconds, then made your way back to Venable, holding the plates as close to your chest as you could to avoid they be knocked over by someone’s elbow.

Venable looked even tenser than when you had left her. She was sitting very, very straight, eyes shooting daggers at no one in particular, one hand gripping her cane. You slowed down as you got close and watched her. She looked exactly like an animal, a predator, trapped in a cage surrounded by a curious crowd, baring its teeth every time someone tapped on the bars, trying to find a corner where to hide. She met your eyes, and visibly relaxed when you sat down at the table and handed her one of the plates.

Things got easier from then on. You both ate your food in-between bits of conversation. You had to bend over the table to hear each other speak over the music, heads only a few inches apart. Lights danced across Venable’s face, shadows shifting, sparkles in her eyes. At one point you laughed, and her eyes flicked to your lips and lingered there a second or two. You bit your lower lip, shot her an amused look. She picked up her glass and hid her reddening cheeks behind it as she took a few sips.

Warmth was spreading inside you. You told yourself it was the food, or maybe the music, or maybe the party. You told yourself maybe it was the combination of those three things. But then Venable brought a hand up to her ear to play with her earring as she listened to you talk, her gaze fond and intense; her lips parted in a smile that made joy fizzle in your stomach.

It was her, without a doubt.

You leaned closer and said giddily, “I love seeing you smile.”

She didn’t hear you. The music was too loud. So you said it again, almost a yell. She frowned, narrowed her eyes at you.

“It’s true,” you went on, grabbing your empty glass and pressing it against your mouth to hide behind it, just as Venable had done a few minutes before. “You have such a beautiful smile, but I guess you must hear that all the time.”

Venable opened her mouth, closed it again. There was a strange look in her eyes you could not quite identify. Her hand came up to play with her earring again, and then she raised her shoulders and jerked her head to the side like a child trying to hide the fact that they’re lying. “Thank you,” she said.”I do hear that all the time.”

A man who was waltzing drunkenly almost collided with your chair. You shoved him back into the arms of his friend, laughing. When you glanced at Venable, laughter still on your mouth, you caught a glimpse of her fond smile before she had time to compose her features. Your heart swelled. Beaming, you raised your glass, forgetting it was empty – “To Kineros’ fifteenth birthday!” – forgetting you didn’t even like the company, forgetting everything that wasn’t her.

The music changed. The quick tempo faded and was replaced by a slow melody, a piano and a violin, a deep, melancholy male voice. It soothed your heart and made it ache at the same time. All around the room couples found each other and pressed their bodies against each other and started slow dancing. You glanced sideways at Venable.

She was staring at the dancers with a sad look in her eyes, her thumb tapping distractedly on the knob of her cane. Her gaze fell on one of your coworkers’ face, happy and beaming as she twirled and twirled and laughed. Her partner wrapped one arm around her waist and dipped her. Venable’s grip on her cane tightened, knuckles turning white, and the sadness spilled from her eyes and spread across her face.

You cleared your throat to draw her attention.

“Shall we?” you said, gesturing towards the dancers.

Venable straightened her shoulders, raised her chin and shook her head. “I told you I don’t like dancing,” she said.

You hummed, studying her face. “Then why do you look so sad?”

She shot you a surprised look, eyes widening. You were expecting a mean retort, but instead she stared at the dancers again, and her lower lip trembled.

And then it finally dawned on you. The problem wasn’t that she hated dancing. The problem was that she couldn’t.

You swore you heard your heart break over the music. You had to dig your nails into your arm to stop yourself from reaching out and pulling her into a hug. For a moment you kept silent, and then as the violins swelled and the lights danced on Wilhemina’s face, you wrapped one hand around her wrist and pulled her up and towards the dance floor.

Her mouth opened in protest, but the words died in her throat when you laid one hand on the curve of her waist and used your other hand to guide hers to your shoulder. Her fingers stuttered over your skin, wide eyes meeting yours. You gave her a reassuring smile, brought your hand down and gently laced your fingers with hers around the knob of her cane.

And then you started to sway under the purple fairy lights.

Slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, guiding her movements with your hand on her waist. Moving one foot, then the other. In rhythm with the lazy lament of the violins.

Wilhemina’s body slowly relaxed. She found her pace, her eyes never leaving yours, the lights making them glitter. You smiled, and gazed at her as her face softened with gratitude and something else that maybe, just maybe, looked like love. Her eyes lit up as she returned your smile and you swore – your heart was singing louder than the music.

You watched as the sadness melted and genuine happiness bloomed from her smile.

You pulled her closer and pressed your forehead against hers. You felt her breath hitch, saw her eyes flutter closed. So you allowed yourself to sink into her presence, sink into the music, sink into the moment.

And you prayed for the song never to end.

But it did, too soon, too abruptly. Another song started, upbeat and fierce. Wilhemina stopped moving and squared her shoulders. You took her hand, gave it a squeeze and led her back to your table.

She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t have to. The look in her eyes spoke plenty enough.

“Well then,” you said as you pulled up in front of Wilhemina’s house – small, white walls, perfectly mown lawn. You paused. You didn’t know what to add after that.

Wilhemina did not move. You glanced sideways at her, swallowing around the lump in your throat. Every nerve in your body was screaming for her to stay. Maybe you could take her on a drive, find a secluded spot, lie down in the grass and watch her as the stars slowly moved in the sky.

“That was nice,” you said after a while.

Wilhemina nodded. “Thank you for the lift,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” you smiled.

Still she did not move. Both her hands were wrapped around the knob of her cane, and she was staring straight ahead at the trees bordering the sidewalk. Her eyes shone faintly in the dark.

You cleared your throat. Your whole body was tingling with the need to touch her, to be near her, to feel her warmth again. You wondered if you would dare, if you would ever be bold enough. But you had been bold when you had invited her to the dance, and she had said yes; so you would be bold again.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” you asked.

She turned her head to look at you. A small, incredulous smile – afraid to be hurt.

“No you may n – “She cut herself off. Scrutinized your face. You waited, barely daring to breathe, your heart drumming in your ears. Wanting to be near her, now and always and forever.

“I can sleep on the couch,” you added quickly, averting your gaze. Your cheeks were starting to burn, and you were oh so grateful for the darkness.

Silence. Out of the corner of your eye you saw her reaching for the car door handle.

“I guess you can stay,” she said in an expressionless voice. “I don’t see any harm in that.”

“I have some clean pajamas you can borrow for the night,” Wilhemina said without looking at you.

“It’s okay,” you teased. “I can sleep naked.”

She shot you a look, then averted her gaze again and turned to rearrange a stack of papers on the coffee table, but you still saw it – the soft blush that bloomed in her cheeks. You sat back on the couch, grinning, and folded your hands behind your head.

“So,” you sang, “tonight wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it?”

She hummed. She was still pretending to rearrange the stack of papers, so you stood up and planted yourself in front of her.

“Was it?” you repeated, fighting the giddy, smug grin that tugged at your lips. She straightened her shoulders, narrowed her eyes at you. You couldn’t quite decide whether she was amused or outraged by your behavior.

“What do you want me to say?” she retorted, her voice just a little bit raspier than usual. “That you were right?”

She was so close. You took her hand, laced your fingers with hers and kissed her knuckles. Her breath hitched. You grazed your lips on her skin, never breaking eye contact.

“I’d really like to dance with you again,” you whispered.

“But there’s no music,” Wilhemina answered in a breath.

You hummed, slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Who needs music to dance?”

She seemed to consider your words for a minute. Her eyes drifted to your lips. She inhaled shakily, then closed the space between you and pressed her chest against yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your body simultaneously tingled with life and combusted to ashes. Your eyes fell closed as you pressed your forehead against hers, just as you had at the dance, except this time it felt even more special. Maybe it was the privacy, or the silence, or how warm and firm her chest was against yours. Maybe it was the way she touched her nose to yours, or how, when she let out a breath, you felt it hot on your mouth and you had to stop yourself from capturing her lips in yours and kissing her senseless.

You didn’t even realize you had started slow dancing. You were too focused on her and on the way her body felt against yours to notice anything else. You wrapped both arms around her waist and held her tight, fingers digging into the fat on her hips. A moment passed, and then she, almost angrily, pushed her pelvis against yours.

You stopped breathing entirely.

Every inch of you was burning. She had set you on fire, and you were melting, melting into her, core aching, head buzzing. So then you did the only thing that felt right. You tilted your head, crashed your mouth against hers and devoured her.

She whimpered, brought a hand up to your cheek, pressed herself even closer into you. You were pretty sure by now your insides had turned into molten lava. Her hand slid up to tangle in your hair, and you heard a clang as her cane fell to the ground, felt her other hand press on the small of your back, grip the fabric of your garment, boldly slide down to knead your ass.

“God, Wilhemina,” you whined into her mouth. She was going to be the end of you. She had cast a spell on you and now you’d die if you had to spend a single second away from her. You felt her smile, that beautiful, bewitching smile of hers that had started it all – and suddenly you needed to see it again, so you pulled away, eliciting an angry groan from her. You put one hand on her shoulder to hold her back.

She was breathing hard, cheeks flushed and lipstick smeared, eyes so dark and so predatory it sent shivers down your spine. You ran your thumb over her mouth, giggled when she nipped it. Her lips twitched, and your eyes widened in expectation, heart racing, heart singing – and then she smiled, that smile that softened her face and made her eyes light up, that smile she only ever smiled for you.

#ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #fics

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thomaslightwood · 4 years ago

Text

The Sanctuary || Thomastair (from Alastair's POV)

From chapter 19 & 21 from COI!

This was weird to do and even tho I had the dialogue it wasn't as easy to write as I expected. I tried to make this how I imagine Alastair's thought process and it hit a little too close to home so tried my best to do this scene justice. I hope you like it!

•

Alastair barely moved since the door had closed and locked behind the Consul for the last time.

It has been hours. Alastair was rereading pages of The Prince over and over again, without actually understanding most of them. He randomly turned on pages from time to time, at least to look like he was reading.

Even without looking at Thomas, he was aware where he was in the Sanctuary. Alastair wondered what Thomas thought of him now. After founding out Alastair literally had been stalking him for weeks. Or maybe he was worrying about the fact he was accused for murder.

At some point, Thomas walked to the door and shook it, like he was hoping even for the slightest chance that the lock and wards had failed.

“A little menacing that the Sanctuary bolts shut from the outside, isn’t it? I never thought about it much before,” Alastair said, his voice was the first loud thing in hours.

Thomas turned around to look at him. There was something desperate in his face.

“I, er, suppose one might have to keep an unexpectedly dangerous Downworlder out, or something,” Thomas said awkwardly. Alastair looked away.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “On the other hand, it does give the Institute a makeshift prison.”

It was a little creepy when he thought about it. A Sanctuary was supposed to be a sacred place. A place that provides safety and protection. Alastair had never thought he would be held as a prisoner here. And definitely not with Thomas Lightwood.

Thomas wandered a little closer to him. Alastair didn't look away from his book. With the corner of his eye he could see Thomas' messy hair, clothes stained with blood and dirt. His tattoo was bright on his arm.

“Why have you been following me around?” Thomas demanded.

Alastair’s breath hitched. He didn't expect Thomas to speak to him. “Someone had to,” he said, still staring at his book.

“What on earth does that mean?” Thomas said.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Lightwood,” Alastair said sharply. He didn't want to have a fight with him, not now. Not ever.

Thomas sat down with a thump on Alastair’s mattress. Alastair blinked at him in surprise.

“I do want the answer,” Thomas said. “And I will not get up until you tell it to me.”

Alastair slowly set his book aside. He could see Thomas' neck, the edge of his white shirt and if he moved his gaze further below there was the promise of his chest, hidden underneath the cloth. Alastair thought about their time in Paris, in the cafe. Thomas' warm skin under his fingers. And many months later, in London, his skin was warm as he remembered it, but marked with the rose compass tattoo.

“I knew you were taking extra patrols,” Alastair said, still thinking about Thomas' tattoo. “And more than that - going out by yourself with a murderer on the loose. You were going to get yourself killed. You’re meant to take someone with you.”

It sounded logical, didn't it? Alastair hoped so because if not Thomas would reveal that Alastair followed him because he wasn't just worried Tom would get himself killed - he wanted to be close to him, to take care of him, to do something for him, even if Thomas wasn't aware of it.

“No, thank you,” Thomas said. “All these people going out in pairs, announcing themselves every time they speak, unable to make a move without consulting each other - they might as well ring a bell to let the killer know they’re coming. And meanwhile, if you’re not on the schedule, you’re supposed to just sit around on your arse doing nothing. We’ll never catch the murderer if we avoid being out on the streets. That’s where the murderer is.”

Well, this sounded logical too, Alastair thought. Stubborn and reckless but logical.

Alastair was a little amused. “Never before have I heard such a concise statement of the ludicrous philosophy with which you and your school friends go through the world, running toward danger,” he said, stretching. “But that’s not why you were doing what you were doing,” Alastair added. “There’s a little truth to what you just said, but not the heart of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You couldn’t save your sister. So you want to save other people. You want revenge, even if this isn’t the same evil that took Barbara - it’s still evil, isn’t it?” Alastair knew what he said may sound rude and was definitely not his business. But he was also determined to speak the truth. No matter how ugly, no matter how painful. The truth must be faced. “You want to behave recklessly, and you don’t want your reckless behavior to compromise a patrol partner’s safety. So you went alone.”

Thomas' face told him he was right.

“Well, I don’t believe you really think that we’re stupid,” Thomas said, “or that we willingly court danger for danger’s sake. If you believed that, you would do more to stop Cordelia spending time with us.”

Alastair scoffed. Like he could stop Cordelia from anything.

“My point,” Thomas went on, an edge to his voice, “is that I don’t think you believe the rude things you say. And I don’t understand why you say them. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s as if you want to drive everyone away.” He paused. “Why were you so awful to us in school? We never did anything to you.”

Alastair winced. For a long moment he was silent. What he could tell? What he could tell to make Thomas believe he's not terrible? Maybe he couldn't. Maybe this wasn't possible. He could only tell Thomas the truth and let him decide.

“I was awful to you …,” he said at last, “because I could be.”

“Anyone can be a bastard if they want to be,” said Thomas. “You had no reason to do it. Your family are friends with the Herondales. You could at least have been kinder to James.”

This wasn't untrue, mostly. But there was so much more than this.

“When I got to school,” said Alastair slowly, the effort costing him, “loose talk about my father had preceded me. Everyone knew he was a failure, and some of the older students decided I was an easy target. They … let’s just say that by the end of the first week, I had been made to understand my place in the hierarchy, and I had the bruises to remind me should I ever forget.”

Those were painful memories. The jokes, the vicious words and the other kids' fists. Back then he thought he would never allow someone to treat him like that again, even if this meant he would become a monster himself.

“After about a year of being knocked around,” Alastair went on, “I realized I could either become one of the bullies, or suffer for the rest of my school days. I felt no loyalty to my father, no need to defend him, so that was never a problem. I wasn’t very big - well, you know what that’s like.”

He eyed Thomas for a moment. Looking self-conscious, Thomas shrank back a bit. Physically he had grown so much, his muscles were visible through the shirt.

“What I did have,” said Alastair, “was a savage tongue and a quick wit. Augustus Pounceby and the others would collapse laughing when I cut some poor younger student down to size. I never got my hands bloody, never hit anyone, but it didn’t matter, did it? Soon enough the bully boys forgot they’d ever hated me. I was one of them.”

“And how did that turn out for you?” Thomas said in a hard voice.

Alastair looked at him matter-of-factly. “Well, one of us has a close-knit group of friends, and the other one has no friends at all. So you tell me.”

“You have friends,” Thomas said. Alastair snorted at this. He didn't. Not really.

“Then you arrived, a bunch of boys from famous families, too well brought up to understand at first what went on far from home. Expecting the world would embrace you. That you would be treated well. As I never had been.” Alastair pushed back a lock of hair. His hands were shaking. He was so bitter then, so full of anger at the injustice of the world. He took a breath, hoping Thomas didn't notice. “I suppose I hated you because you were happy. Because you had each other - friends you could like and admire - and I had nothing like that. You had parents who loved each other. But none of that excuses the way I behaved. And I do not expect to be forgiven.”

It hurted Alastair to say it, to think about it. But he really didn't think the Merry Thieves would forgive him - he wasn't surprised. If he was at their place he probably wouldn't forgive himself too.

“I’ve been trying to hate you,” Thomas said quietly, “for what you did to Matthew. You richly deserve to be hated for what you have done.”

Alastair looked Thomas in the face. “It wasn’t just his mother I slandered. It was your parents, too. You know it. So you don’t have to—to act all high-minded about this. Stop pretending you are only upset on behalf of Matthew. Hate me on your own behalf, Thomas.”

Part of him wanted this. One small, self-destructive part wanted Thomas to hate him. To tell him so. To lash out his anger at Alastair, so he could feel his pain in his bones, to remember it and to carry it with himself like he carried his own.

“No,” Thomas said firmly. He looked so sure, like this wasn't even an option. Like it was the law of nature, something that cannot.

Alastair didn't know how to react. Tension was freezing his body and mind and he could just blink at him.

“The reason I cannot hate you is because—because of those days we spent in Paris together,” he said. Alastair stomach flipped. “You were kind to me when I was very alone, and I am grateful. It was the first time I realized you could be kind.”

Alastair stared at him. The little light they had was doing strange things to Thomas' appearance. His hair looked lighter but his face was in shadow, making his eyes seem darker and deeper than usual. “It is my favorite memory of Paris as well.” Was Alastair saying this? Was this really his voice?

“You don’t have to say that. I know you were there with Charles.”

Alastair stiffened. He looked away. “Charles Fairchild? What about him?”

“Wouldn’t that be your best memory of Paris?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Alastair’s jaw was rigid. “Exactly what are you suggesting?”

He didn't want to do anything with Charles anymore. He wanted to move on. But it wasn't his business to reveal Charles' secrets. Alastair wouldn't do this to him.

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’ve seen the way you look at Charles, the way he looks at you. I’m not an idiot, Alastair, and I’m asking …” Thomas shook his head, sighing. His face was different than the past few months. The way he looked at Alastair… like he was searching for something. There was a deep ache in his eyes. “I suppose I’m asking if you’re like me.”

•

“Thomas Lightwood,” said Alastair. “I am nothing like you.”

If there was something in the whole world he was sure about, it was this.

He saw how Thomas' eyes widened. A pained expression on his face. Terror and humiliation were creeping in his eyes.

“I am nothing like you, Thomas,” Alastair continued, “because you are one of the better people I have ever known. You have a kind nature and a heart like some knight out of legend. Brave and proud and true and strong. All of it.” He smiled bitterly. He meant every word. “And all the time you have known me, I have been a terrible person. So, you see. We are nothing at all alike.”

Thomas’s gaze snapped up.

“I’m not—” Thomas breathed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” The words hung between them, neither daring to move a muscle. After a moment Alastair added in a gentler voice, “How did you know about Charles?”

“You wouldn’t tell me what you were doing in Paris,” said Thomas. “But you mentioned Charles, over and over again, like you got pleasure out of just saying his name. And when you came to London this summer, I saw the way you looked at him. I know what it is to have to hide the—the signs of affection.”

“Then I imagine you may have noticed I don’t look at Charles that way anymore,” Alastair said and couldn't not think what a lovesick fool he was.

“I suppose I did,” Thomas said, “though for the past four months, I’ve been trying not to look at you. I told myself I hated you. But I could never really make myself. When Elias died, all I could think about was you. What you must be feeling.”

Alastair winced. “I insulted your father and blackened his name. You were under no obligation to care about mine.”

Elias was something Alastair carefully avoided to think about. The unsaid words, the anger and all the disgust, resentment and undescribable loss of his father in so many ways was too much to bear.

“I know, but sometimes I think that it is much harder to lose someone who we are on bad terms with than it is to lose someone with whom all is well,” Thomas said kindly.

Tears filled Alastair's eyes.

“Bloody hell, Thomas. You should hate me, not be thinking about what I must be feeling—” Alastair swiped at his eyes. Raziel, his kindness. It was good he didn't deserve, a blessing so precious it made him want to cry. Why couldn't Thomas just hate him? Why couldn't he be like Matthew Fairchild and hate him? It would be deserved. It would be easier. “And the worst of it is, you’re right, of course. You always understood other people so well. I think I partly hated you for it, for being so kind. I thought, ‘He must have so much, to be able to be so generous.’ And I thought that I had nothing. It never occurred to me that you had secrets too.”

“You were always my secret,” said Thomas softly, and Alastair turned a surprised gaze at him. His face was so open, so vulnerable. It was so different, they both were, since the first time they met but… at the same time so soft, so kind like it was at the Academy, at Paris and now, at the Sanctuary again.

“Does no one know?” said Alastair. “That you—like men? How long have you known?”

“Since after I came to school, I think,” Thomas said in a low voice. “I knew what caught my eye, quickened my pulse, and it was never a girl.”

“And you never told anyone?”

Thomas hesitated. “I could have told my friends that I liked men. They would have understood. But I couldn’t have told them how I felt about you.”

“So you did feel something for me. I thought-” Alastair looked away, shaking his head. “I didn’t see you—you were this boy, following me around at school, and then I met you in Paris and you’d grown up and turned into Michelangelo’s David. I thought you were beautiful. But I was still caught up with Charles—” He broke off. “Just another thing I’ve wasted. Your regard for me. I wasted my time and my affection on Charles. I wasted my chance with you.”

It would definitely be easier if Thomas hated him, Alastair thought with bitterness. But now, knowing he wasted his time with a man who would choose his career over Alastair every time when he could be with Thomas—it was too much. Another tragedy in his life, another wasted opportunity….

“Maybe not,” Thomas said. He sounded dizzy. “About me, I mean.”

Alastair blinked. “Speak sense, Lightwood,” he said testily. His words couldn't reach Alastair's brain. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this,” said Thomas, and leaned towards Alastair.

It was a quick kiss. Unsure and shocking and so, so sweet.

Thomas drew back hesitantly. It was obvious he didn't know if this was alright, if he wasn't crossing a line. Alastair caught hold of Thomas’s shirtfront in a firm grip. He slid onto his knees so that they faced each other; with Thomas sitting back on his heels, their heads were at the same level.

“Thomas—” Alastair began. His voice was rough, unsteady. He had a hard time getting a grip on himself. Abruptly, Alastair let go of Thomas’s shirt, started to turn his face away.

“Just imagine,” Thomas said. “What if we’d never gone to the Academy together? What if none of those things had happened, and Paris was the first time we’d met? And this was the second?”

Alastair said nothing. It was an impossible scenario. Just a comfort fantasy for the cold, sad nights that ended up hurting you more than healing you.

He smiled weakly. “Damn you, Thomas,” he said, and there was resignation, yes. Because he was so done pretending, so done hiding what he was feeling towards this amazing man. He wanted to feel every dark, forbidden and sweet thing there was with Thomas.

A moment later he was pulling Thomas toward him. Their bodies collided, awkward and thrilling. Alastair knew he was probably the more experienced of the two but he was barely aware what he was doing.

He had never imagined he would be able to do all this. To touch Thomas' chest, his shoulders and back, his tattoo and Adam's apple. He had never imagined Thomas would tenderly kiss the arch of his throat and smile against Alastair's skin. He had never imagined he would be so happy while waiting to be proved innocent for a crime. But while he was kissing Thomas Lightwood, he thought it was worth it.

#thomastair #alastair carstiars #thomas lighwood #tlh #tsc #coi #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of iron #coi spoilers #chain of iron spoilers #cassandra clare #tsc fanfiction #tsccreatenet #sav's writing #my post

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you’d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #king!thor x you #marvel au #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt02 #thor odinson x reader

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oksana-moods · 3 years ago

Text

Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

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lilxberry · 4 years ago

Text

Fond Of This Dwarf - Thorin Oakenshield

Requested By: @heyitsgarnet

Hi! I really love your writing! Could I request a Thorin x elf reader who's with the company? He's kind of an doushe to her but then she saves his ass from orcs or something and he's like "oh shit I'm in love." thank yooou! <3

This probably isn’t exactly what you were looking for but I think it’s sweet and does just a good a job. I’m so sorry it took me forever to finish your request, I really wish I could’ve done something for you sooner. Thank you so much for being patient

Warnings: Probably a bad word somewhere lmao. I guess racism??? Angst. Fluff. Mentions of war and death. Pretty much it, I reckon.

Words: 2,331

Parings: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (x elf reader) (x female reader)

_______________

How on Middle Earth had Gandalf think adding you to a company that consisted of multiple dwarves were a good decision you’ll never quite know. You’re completely certain that the grey wizard knew of the dwarves hatred for elves, of course he knew, definitely explains the precautions he had taken when introducing you to those who you were to travel to the lonely mountain with.

Luckily, that hatred slowly dispersed as time passed during your journey. All the dwarves had eventually taken a liking to you, apart from the ever grouchy, complacently brooding Thorin Oakensheild. Even Dwalin had begun to be a more civilised dwarf towards you, for Valars’ sake!

The first one to show some form of kindness to you were Balin. Obviously, he had reason to be all sorts of rude and crude towards you because of your race but you figured he has witnessed enough hostility within his lifetime so refused to show any when truly nessicary.

Ori had been next. It took some time considering he was under the watchful eyes and influential words of his older brothers. Fílí and Kílí followed after that and before you knew it, they all began to follow suit.

Needless to say, you and Bilbo had no issues from the get-go. In fact, you were and still are joined at the hip. And Gandalf, well, he’s Gandalf. You’re not even sure he can actually hate anything.

The journey had been long and treacherous, but you were getting closer and closer each day, even with each and every hindrance and snag you faced. Running everyday for survival is outright exhausting but utterly needed, which is what you were currently partaking in.

“I spy-“

Ori was swiftly cut off with a collective groan from the company whilst you and Bilbo shared an amused look, no doubt Gandalf had a similar expression across his face at the front of the group.

“Not again, lad, for the love of Mahal, please.” Dwalin grumbled as he pressed his fingers against his forehead as if trying to sooth a forming migraine. Ori visibly deflates and sighs quietly, looking like a kicked puppy.

“No, go on, Ori. I’ll play with you.” He perked up just as quickly as he had been denied moments earlier. He beamed up towards you as he straightened out his posture.

“I spy, with my little eye, something…beginning with…T!”

“Tree.” The company’s response was almost automatic, the answer as clear as daylight.

You and Bilbo chuckled before you both turned your attention to the dwarf beside you once again looking down and ashamed. “Don’t worry, Ori. I’m sure as we get closer to the lonely mountain, we’ll find more things to spy.” Bilbo’s encouragement was so sweet that you just had to jump in and help brighten the young dwarfs sour mood also.

“Definitely. Don’t get me started about the endless possibilities for ‘I spy’ inside Erebor.” Ori smiled his widest smile towards you and the hobbit as the others chuckled. All finding amusement in your merriment of a silly childs’ game. All except one.

“You humour me how you would think I would allow you to step foot inside my mountain.”

All humour, all happiness quickly faded until there were scowling faces amongst everyone. You furrowed your shaped eyebrows and slowed to a stop and burn holes into the back of Thorins’ head. You shook your head and began to walk once more with haste, shouldering the rude dwarf as you pass him and race ahead of the company.

You wouldn’t admit it, not verbally, not so outwardly, but his words and distain towards you hurt, very much so. Even though Thorin has shown nothing but his dislike towards you, you couldn’t help to admire his strong will, his caring side that he had shown his kin, his handsome appearance-

-‘NO! Y/N, stop it!’ You scolded yourself mentally as you shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts just as quickly as they had entered your mind once more. He didn’t like you, not your race at least. He made that more than obvious for you and everyone around you.

You sighed inwardly before slowing your strides, allowing the company to catch up to where you had stormed off. You could hear the scolding the few bold enough to do so were giving Thorin, though you knew that the probability of him actually considering of what they were saying were nought.

Someone, who you presumed to be Gandalf, cleared their throat, noting the proximity between you and the group now they have caught up to your small steps. The silence consumed the company as they all sluggishly dragged their feet as they trudged along, awkwardness surrounding each and every dwarf, once again, all except that stubborn royal pain in the jacksie.

“Out of the way, elf.” He spat the name of your kind with such distain and disgust that your heart panged with an immense pain, your chest tightened, your intake of breath quick and sharp. You felt the burning of tears build up within your eyes as he passed you gruffly but refused to let them fall.

You will NOT seem weak in front of people- no, dwarves- like him. Bilbo caught up to walk beside you and places a gentle, comforting hand on to your forearm, smiling up at you sympathetically. The rest of the walk was silent, that was until you all heard the shrill cry of an orcs horn.

_______________

Your lungs begged for air, every inch of muscle within your body burned and longed for rest. Fatigue was catching up with all of you and fast.

“We cannot run any longer, we must stand our ground!” You couldn’t tell if Dwalin was pleading or trying to be demanding with Thorin and Gandalf, all you knew was that his tone was as brass and harsh as usual.

“We can take them, of do you really have such little faith towards your company, Thorin?!” You huffed, clearly just as agitated and enraged as the others.

Thorin halted immediately and swiftly turned on his heel to face you, a deep, raging fire of hatred filled his gaze. He groaned in aggravation and drew his sword, ensuring the others quickly followed suit. You deeply exhaled through your nose and you spun yourself around to face the oncoming threat as you unshouldered you bow and raising it higher.

You withdrew an arrow from your quiver, quickly lining your body perpendicular towards the enemy and drawing the arrow back towards your cheek, staring down the length of the arrow. You exhaled as you released your firm grip and so, first blood had been drawn.

_______________

It was nearing the end of the gruelling battle but in truth, it was difficult to tell, exhaustion taking over every single one of the company. It felt as though the enemy just kept coming, multiplying as you take a singular orc down.

Blood coated you and the others, mainly that of orcs and Wargs alike, dried and cracked. As you took down yet another enemy, you heaved out a shaky breath, exhaling heavily with a slight groan.

You looked towards the others, all seemingly fairing well, all grouped together, all except, you guessed it, Thorin. Two orcs atop their Wargs brought the dwarf down on to the hard, filthy ground, defenceless, weapon astray. He crawled backwards, even that looked like such a struggle for him though.

The Wargs snarled and growled as they closed in on the drained dwarf, the orcs straddled upon their fur coated backs grinning wickedly. As quick as a whippet, you powered through your own exhaustion and pain and sprinted towards the predators closing in on their prey.

You released a cry of anger and frustration as you withdrew your elven sword from its place on your back before bringing it down on to the beasts head, emitting a pained whimper before it fell harshly against the floor, body now limp and lifeless.

The orc that once sat atop the dead creature stood from where it landed next to its Wargs’ corpse with a seething anger and charged towards you. You swiftly cut him down and turned your focus to the final orc/Warg duo all the while Thorin looked on with wide eyes and bated breath, watching you with a new found admiration.

Almost as quickly as the last, you had taken down the enemy and collapsed down to your knees, exhaustion washing over you completely. Your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you inhaled and exhaled heavily in repeat.

“Are you…okay lass?” Balin approached you cautiously as the others watched on, concern and their own tiredness evident on their faces. All you could offer in response was a single nod of your head.

Thorin snapped out of his reverie and slowly came to a stand, but before he could proceed to close the gap between the two of you, you raised to your own feet and began to walk away from the group. “We should keep moving. No doubt another pack or two is a day behind them.”

“Yes, Miss Y/N makes a valid argument. Come on.” Gandalf had gruffly agreed with the statement made from over your shoulder. And with that, the company tiredly trudged further along, leaving behind the corpses of their slain foes and the final dwarves’ disdain towards you.

_______________

“We make camp here.” Thorin’s authoritative command travelled throughout the clearing within trees and into the ears of the company. Pained grunts, relieved sighs and heavy knapsacks thudding against the ground were Thorin’s confirmation that he had been heard.

He dragged his feet as he walked over to lazily slump against the bark of a sturdy tree, exhaling heavily through his nose and closing his eyes, basking in the knowledge that he lives to see a new day. His eyes barely reopen as he scans across each and every member of the company. Or at least, nearly every member.

He luckily caught a smidge of your form disappearing past the treeline and his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Surely you were tired? You had to be from all the walking and fighting you’ve done. Why would you head off away from the others?

With a huff of air, he pushed himself from his leaning position against the sturdy trunk and headed off towards the direction you disappeared in. Thorin kept himself quiet as he walked weaved passed trees, his strides small and light footed. He came to a slight clearing which was perfectly illuminated in the moons light, a heavenly glow across the small, vacant area.

And then he spotted you.

Sat precisely in the centre of it all, eyes softly closed, eyelashes resting on your cheek ever so delicately, the light breeze brushing your hair back from your face, a face that, even though is covered by the dried and cracked crimson smears, looked fair and filled with serenity, a calmness that was affect Thorin in many ways.

He had become so entranced that he hadn’t realised that he walked out into the opening further as he stared, stared at someone who he considered the enemy for far too long, at someone who he now admired, at someone who has kindled a newfound feeling deep within him.

“Are you going to keep standing around like some lemon or are you going to join me?” the sudden sound of your voice actually caused the dwarf to jump ever so slightly, taken off guard. You peeked an eye open, finding the situation amusing at a miniscule amount.

Thorin cleared his throat and wiped his hands down his front with a tinge of nervousness before making his way over and lowering himself beside you, arms rested atop his knees. A silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable passed before he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

The simple two-word statement accompanied by his deep, gruff voice caused your eyes to widen slightly and snap your head towards the dwarf to your right. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry. For how I acted before. It wasn’t fair of me to judge you based purely off of who, or rather what, they are. I’m greatly disappointed with myself. Please forgive my ignorance.”

You were flabbergasted. THE Thorin Oakenshield, a prideful and stubborn dwarf, was apologising, hell, even begging, for your forgiveness. Thorin must’ve thought you were trying to imitate that of a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing multiple times as you searched for the right words to proceed.

You recomposed yourself impossibly fast before flashing the sheepish, nerve wracked dwarf in royal blue and furs a kind, sweet, small smile. “It is okay, Master dwarf. It isn’t as if you had no base reason for your hatred towards my kind. Hopefully, like the rest of the company, we may put our bad blood behind us and move forward working together.”

Thorins’ sigh of relief was large and fairly loud, causing for a small giggle to pass your lips. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he flashed you the smallest, microscopic of smiles. “I’m glad. Oh, and thank you. For saving me.”

You gazed at him with such a soft and gentle expression that he was certain he could have melted at the sight. “Your most certainly welcome.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his hair covered cheek before ever so gently laying your head atop his broad shoulder. His whole body tensed at the actions before slowly unwinding, leaving him red in the face and bashfully playing with his fingers.

A peaceful, comforting silence quickly engulfed you two as you sat side by side, his arm now loosely wrapped around your waist, basking in the beautiful surrounding area. You weren’t sure how long you two had sat within each other’s embrace, but you weren’t one to rush a nice thing when it presented itself, so you continued in your contented bliss with a dwarf you had grown quite fond of. Fond of indeed.

_______________

AAYYYYOOOO IS THIS AN UPLOAD??!

That’s right ya dang bunch of cutie pies, I ain’t dead

My uploading is still extremely slow but I thought, since I’m close to being on top with my college work, I would finally finish this fic

It’s weird and probably makes no sense but it’s the best I can do with the amount of stress I’m enduring ‘cause of college so bare with me peeps

Anywho, I hope you enjoy reading this

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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mochis-interlude · 4 years ago

Text

wristbound || giyuu

this is just a little thank you for 100 followers. i hope you’ll enjoy + feeback is always appreciated! <3

↠ pairing. giyuu x fem! reader

↠ genre. fluff, angst

↠ warnings. memory loss/amnesia, minor character death, murder, graphic scenes, blood, language, implied sex work (nothing explicit)

↠ words. 11.2k

↠ summary. the little red bracelet you made when the two of you were nothing but kids, it reminded giyuu that he was always tied to your wrist.

not even your sudden disappearance could snap the wristband in two.

"[Name] didn't cause any trouble, did she?" Your brother, Haruto, was out of breath as he took a seat next to two raven-haired women who were your best friend's mother and his sister. The mother laughed, shaking her head as she already knew what happened; Haruto had once again lost sight of you and you ran away to them. Ran away to Giyuu, more specifically.

"Not at all. By now, you should know that we love having [Name] over," she said, her blue eyes setting on the two children playing in the garden amongst flowers and butterflies. The mother's gaze softened with each passing second, heart feeling full and hopeful for her son's future.

Tsutako's eyes followed her mom's line of sight curiously and found her younger brother proudly showing you the butterfly he caught by sheer luck. However, your eyes were glued to Giyuu's face instead of the butterfly. The corners of her mouth tugged upwards as she imagined a future for her younger brother where you were by his side through it all. "They'd make a great couple when they're older, no?"

"Pardon me?!" Voice high-pitched, Haruto choked on his spit and ended up coughing into the sleeves of his haori. You with that boy? Impossible. Just after you were born, he promised father to take care of you, to protect you! What could a boy like Giyuu do besides catching pretty butterflies?

Haruto was about to protest, his overprotective side over you kicking in, but he was left with an open mouth and every word dying on his tongue when your laughter bounced throughout the garden. It was a rare sound he usually didn't hear. The most Haruto would get out of you was a chuckle and a half-hearted smile which you put on like a carefully molded mask.

You were so small and so, so young when your eyes witnessed a monster eating your parents, blood covering the place that used to be such a loving and warm home. Crimson stained the walls and the floor, organs lying about like furniture. Haruto was able to chase the monster into the early sunrise and brought its end.

Haruto never thought you'd remember that event.

Yet there you were, vibrantly laughing with the Tomioka boy until tears would brim your eyes, until you used up all of your energy and fell asleep in Haruto's strong arms. Maybe being with Giyuu was the equivalent of salve for your soul.

Maybe, Tsutako was right. When the two of you grew up, you'd make a fine couple.

"Yeah..they would," he finally agreed.

"Here! I made these for us!" Your small hands revealed two crimson bracelets made of simple thread that you had gotten in town with your big brother. A toothy grin stretched your lips apart, revealing that one of your front teeth was missing; pride and joy was written all over your face.

With wide eyes, Giyuu reached for one of the bracelets, looked at the gift and then back at you. "Why? It's no one's birthday today," the raven-haired kid said with an innocent tilt of his head. It wasn't that Giyuu didn't appreciate your gift, it was quite the opposite! But he also knew that your brother made just enough money to bring food to the table, so he couldn't help but feel guilty that you spent money on a gift.

"So you never forget me, silly!" Your laugh filled the garden rich with various flowers and vegetables growing from the earth. Taking the bracelet from Giyuu's grasp, you carefully tied the simple thread around his wrist until it casually sat against his skin and wouldn't slip off.

Forgetting you sounded ridiculous to Giyuu ㅡ why would he ever forget about his clumsy best friend? He didn't quite understand, and yet, maybe his heart did, because without realizing it, Giyuu tied your own bracelet around your wrist. The knot was far from perfect, but it was enough.

"Besides, you must always remember that I'm never far and always with you, okay?" A blush sat upon your cheeks as you intertwined your pinky finger with Giyuu and brought them up to eye-level, tying him into a promise of a lifetime. Your heart desired nothing more than to spend a life filled with your best friend and your big brother.

"P-promised.." Giyuu's heart fluttered, his face heated up.

But happiness was a sandcastle.

It only took 3 months for the waves to come crashing down and take the lives of not only your brother, but Giyuu's family, as well, leaving the two of you orphaned.

However, just because you were a girl, didn't mean that Urokodaki went any easier on you. How often had you found yourself getting knocked on your back, although all you could do was blink? Incredible, you thought to yourself each and every day, even challenging Giyuu and Sabito to practice your falls and build up strength during the night until your body was bruised, possibly even ached at the mere thought to move any more.

It was a fortunate stroke of luck that Urokodaki found Giyuu and you wandering through a small village in search of shelter, taking the two of you in along with a boy named Sabito. He raised the three of you into fine swordsmen while also making sure that you had enough to eat, a place to sleep and everything that came along with a place called home.

Despite the harsh training, you always had fun and treasured each day you got to spend with the two boys who were like brothers to you. It was the small moments making you laugh and suffer alike; like Urokodaki throwing Giyuu into the river to "become water" or how the old man smacked Sabito's stomach whenever the tension in his stomach wasn't enough for the breathing techniques.

One night before the final selection, the warmth of flames and the smell of soup filled the space just outside of Urokodaki's small home with the three kids gathered around the small fire. It was a starry night filled with an exceptionally rich moon, the view accompanied by the sound of laughter.

"They say you are what you eat but [Name] still isn't soup," Sabito chuckled as you slurped your tenth bowl of soup empty until no drop remained in the pristine bowl. The peach-haired boy was convinced that you had a bottomless pit as a stomach, he was always astonished at the amount you managed to eat in one sitting.

"You say that like I ate a lot," you pouted at Sabito's small poke, but never took it seriously. Shoulders casually shrugged it off while you were basking in the warmth the small fire provided. Although it was far from being cold, the breeze in the mountains was still chilly and liked to nip at your cheeks.

Next to you, Giyuu laughed and the glow of the flames dipped his face in an orange hue, making your heart jump within your ribcage. Painfully, you had come to realize that as you grew up with Giyuu, the boy made your heart flutter in a way which certainly wasn't fair. Perhaps..you did have a crush on your best friend, but you'd never say it out loud.

"[Name], you ate more than Sabito and I combined." Giyuu's laughter died down as he brought his own bowl to his lips and sipped the steaming broth Urokodaki had cooked just for the three of you.

Whenever everyone gathered to have dinner and Sabito would be amazed at your appetite, it reminded Giyuu of all the times you'd come over to his family's place and eat with them. Haruto would scold you for eating too much, Mother would laugh and gladly make you another plate while Giyuu would always give you the veggies he didn't like.

"It's called having a healthy appetite, Giyuu. Your points are invalid," you declared with a dismissive wave of your hand and snickered as you saw your best friend's shoulders slump at your words.

Peaceful moments like these were rare with the training you went through daily and the upcoming final selection made every day a little bit more tense. Of course, you were aware of Sabito's and Giyuu's polished skills and had confidence in your own swordsmanship, but it was a fact that no one knew what would happen in those seven days.

"[Name] isn't wrong about this." Urokodaki put some extra wood into the fire, flames licking at the bork and effectively melting the layer away. The Tengu mask made it impossible to look at Urokodaki's face, but judging by his tone, the former Hashira had to wear a serious expression on his face.

"Let me tell you one thing. Just like humans, demons gain their strength from the humans they consume. The more a demon has eaten, the stronger it is." Everyone listened to Urokodaki's words with perked ears and curious eyes as if they could study the information like a book. "Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"If they're stronger, their neck also gets tougher to cut, right?" Sabito still cupped his empty bowl to warm up his hands. He didn't sound nervous at all, if anything, he was nothing but confident in himself which was something you admired. Sabito was like a strong boulder that one could always rely on.

Urokodaki nodded his head. "Yes."

Giyuu saw the way you unconsciously bit your bottom lip, how your nails dug themselves into the ground and fingers occasionally fumbled with a bit of grass. Whenever you started feeling insecure, you'd always bite your lip or the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours which Giyuu had caught on to years ago.

As Giyuu got older, he grew more hesitant at holding your hand in a reassuring way. Although Sabito would never tease him about it, there was something special tickling in his belly whenever he reached for your hand. It made red rush to his cheeks, but the smile you gave him afterwards was worth the embarrassment he felt.

"Thank you," you mouthed, Giyuu exhaled shakily.

You made his heart feel too funny with the tiniest of things.

Footwear left deep prints in the muddy earth, high trees and thick bushes made it hard to see what was next, but you had to push through whatever lurked around the next corner.

After all, this was the second day of the final selection.

It was all about surviving 7 days in a forest filled to the brim with demons who were close to starvation. Kill or be killed, it was.

You were lucky not to have encountered any nasty demon and only had to worry about what you should eat next, but you thought of it as a bad omen. There was no way in hell the three of you could have so much luck and even if that was the case, it felt like those two days, devoid of any fight, took up all the luck you were supposed to have in one lifetime.

"Watch out, it's slippery!" Sabito ran down a small hill and nearly fell, but caught his balance just in time. He swore he saw a squirrel which he could cook later, but the animal sure was quick to run away from being eaten.

You were right behind Sabito, but much more careful than he was and slid down the hill on instinct. It had rained the entire day, so of course, the ground would be slippery, muddy and filled with puddles.

"Ah!"

Looking back, you saw Giyuu sitting on the wet ground and pressing a hand to his forehead. You went back, wanting to see what had gone wrong, but as you got closer, you saw blood severely dripping from his forehead, over his eyelids and down his cheeks. Not even his sword was to be seen anywhere; he possibly lost it just now.

"Giyuu, can you walk?" You offered him your hand which the boy gratefully took, but he couldn't seem to properly pull himself to his feet, his gaze seemed fuzzy, unfocused.

Scanning the area, you saw a small rock with fresh splatters of blood on it. So that was why..

A heavy trauma to the head. No wonder Giyuu was somewhere between unconsciousness and reality.

"Don't worry, we got this." Calmly, you examined the bleeding wound and pushed the uneven fringe out of the way to get a better look at it. Giyuu hissed when your finger brushed over the injury. "Sabito, can you watch out for demons? Just in case."

Sabito pulled his sword out of its sheath and protectively stood in front of Giyuu and you, one arm stretched out to his side to block the view of you patching up his friend. "Got it."

What were you supposed to do without any bandages? You scanned the area in hopes of finding something, anything that could slow down the bleeding, but all you saw was earth, leaves and some bushes. Stupid, to think that you'd magically see a pharmacy in the woods.

Then, your eyes settled on the sleeve of your haori. It took you no longer than a moment to unsheath your sword, cut through the fabric and tightly tie it around Giyuu's forehead who groaned in pain. "I'm sorry," you mumbled and finished the improvised banades up with a tight knot.

You were about to help Giyuu back on his feet, but at once, the ground shook beneath you in rhythmical periods.

"There's something!" Sabito breathed more to himself, but you were able to catch it with your senses suddenly heightened by the incoming rush of adrenaline. Giyuu still applied pressure to his injury, his sight switching from complete nothingness to what was happening around him.

Instantaneously, your eyes widened in horror at the demon that was trudging towards the three of you and giggled as it swallowed another kid that he managed to eat.

He was deformed to the bone, several hands hugged its tall, green body. Eyes, disgustingly big, stared at Sabito, then you and Giyuu before his hands began scratching at his skin in an anxious, excited manner.

"Ohh! Urokodaki is feeding me even more kids than usual this time! I bet the three of you are delicious! I can only imagine the face he'll make when three students won't make it back to him!"

Sabito planted both of his feed into the ground, the tip of his sword pointed at the demon's neck. "[Name], you protect Giyuu. I'll lop off the head." As soon as the words left Sabito's mouth, Giyuu was about to protest but stumbled back into your body, your arms catching him before he could trip, again.

"Be careful." You nodded at Sabito and took a defensive stance right in front of Giyuu, holding the blade right next to your head while your hands were grasping the handle tightly. As blue eyes watched your back, watched his two best friends fight, Giyuu felt as helpless as the night his family got massacred.

All he could do was watch.

Perversely large hands dashed at Sabito who leapt through those which didn't radiate murderous intent and cut off the hands aiming for his body. He jumped on one of the demon's arms, dodging a fist coming his way by ducking low and sliding along the green skin.

You blocked a fist with the help of your sword and got pushed back a few meters before you twisted the handle in your grasp, abruptly slicing through the fist from below. "Are you okay, Giyuu?!"

As much as you wanted to take a look back and check up on him, you absolutely couldn't take your eyes off the battle or else, the demon could get Giyuu or even the both of you.

While you were stepping in puddles of blood, cutting those disgusting hands off and had to focus on not taking a lethal hit, you still worried about Giyuu. It made his heart clench painfully in his chest. If only he knew where his sword was, then he'd force himself to fight alongside Sabito and you!

"Don't worry about me, [Name]!"

You were so busy concentrating on what was happening in front of you that you failed to notice the one hand underneath your feet. Before you could even think about using a breathing technique or leaping up into the air, the hand wrapped itself around your ankle and threw you away like you were nothing but a fly.

"[Name]!" Saito and Giyuu shouted your name in unison, watching in horror as you flew farther away with each second.

You desperately stretched one of your arms out in the desperate hope of being able to grab on to a branch and get back to the fight, but it was wishful thinking.

"I'll come back!" You cried out until your vocal chords protested and nearly gave in. The air in your lungs became needles. "Until then, survive, got it?! You must survive!"

"Whatever you do, you've got to survive!" Hands clinging to the katana you carried with you, you screamed at the top of your lungs one last time. Bit by bit, your friends seemed to become dots. "Survive! Sabito! Giyuu!"

Sabito clenched his jaw, teeth grinding against one another as anger bubbled deep within his heart and threatened to spill like an overflowing sink.

He charged at the demon with a yell and got so very close to the neck, ready to chop it off when his blade suddenly snapped into two.

Giyuu watched in horror as the demon used Sabito's surprised state to his advantage and smashed his friend's head in.

All he could do was watch.

All he could do was run.

Agonizingly, your body collided with the hard ground and filled your mouth with blood, several cracking sounds travelled throughout your body like electricity. As you gasped for air, you nearly choked on your own blood and coughed it out, a crimson puddle lingering underneath you.

You didn't know where exactly you were nor did you know how long it'd take you to get back to your friends, but you had to find a way. No matter how much your body ached, no matter how loudly every fiber of your body screamed at you to stop, you couldn't.

It was through pure will that you managed to bury the tips of your fingers into the dirt and drag yourself to your blade lying a few meters in front of you. Your view was blurry, but you still managed to make out that the Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you had snapped in half and it had you mentally laughing.

He was going to break your bones, wasn't he?

"Just a little bit.." You croaked out with your hand desperately reaching for the handle of the katana. Just a little bit more, just a few more centimeters and the handle would be back in your broken hand, but just before you could even touch it, your arm limply fell to the ground. As much as you wanted to move, forced yourself to go that one extra step, your body didn't listen.

Gradually, black hugged the corners of your view and the ability to hear slowly faded into nothing. No longer could you feel the ground below you or smell the scent of the trees surrounding you; opaque came to envelope you and drag you to the depths of unconsciousness.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, dampening the earth below you and eventually soaking the collar of the haori you wore. You had promised Urokodaki to come back, you had promised to live a long life, you had promised to stay by Sabito's and Giyuu's side and now, you couldn't even promise to move your finger.

"Giyuu.. Sabito.. Forgive me, but I won't make it back.."

The last thing you saw was the moon reflected in the broken blade and the red bracelet firmly wrapped around your wrist.

Three days had been spent looking for you in hopes of finding you only injured, but still alive. Three days without a clue of where you could be, but Giyuu clung to the slim hope of you lying somewhere in these cursed woods, unconscious but well.

It was that thread of hope that kept his hand glued to the blade, kept his head up and forced his gaze to look ahead.

Feet had run through countless rough patches until blisters hurt Giyuu, but he simply ran through them until his feet got sore and he would be damned if he stopped running at that very moment. After all, persistence and determination would pay off, right? The strong-willed would always be rewarded after going through hell and back.

Nearing a river, Giyuu spotted a broken katana as well as smudges of blood on the ground and immediately slid down the small hill he was on. In his rush, he stumbled over his feet and fell to his knees right next to the blade which he knew was yours.

The thread of hope finally snapped.

Frantically, he scanned the area for any sign of you being alive, but all he found was the dried puddle of blood and the snapped Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you just before heading off for this damned final selection.

With shaking fingers, Giyuu picked up the handle of the sword, hot tears streaming down his face. "[Name]..?" His voice was fragile, on the verge of breaking with every second spent in deafening silence. Giyuu couldn't find it in him to get up, his knees felt like broken mirrors which would stab into his flesh and force him to kneel, regardless of what he desperately wanted to do.

"Please, this isn't funny!" The raven-haired boy called out and tears began blurring his vision, sniffles and choked back sobs rocked his body. "[Name]!" Giyuu hugged the handle of your katana to his chest as he curled up into himself and sobbed into the new day that had just begun.

Why did the universe take away every person he loved so dearly?

First, it was his family, then Sabito and you that got ripped from his grasp, lives he treasured more than anything else, people who he would've died for.

"[Name].. You promised to come back.." The boy murmured to no one and let his eyes travel to the wristband you had made so many years ago. It was physical proof that you were always with him and never far, that he would never forget you and that your lives were intertwined like the sun and the moon.

"Give me [Name] back.."

It was at this moment that a Demon Hunter of higher rank called out to a whimpering Giyuu and brought him back to where the final selection started, a place filled with beautifully blooming wisteria.

Everyone came back.

Everyone except for you and Sabito.

How was Giyuu supposed to face Urokodaki after this?

Lead flowed through every single vein as Giyuu dragged himself back to Urokodaki's home, body heavy with the strain of surviving for 7 days straight, but compared to the gilt gnawing away at his heart, it was bearable.

If only he hadn't gotten injured, then maybe Sabito would still be alive, standing right next to him with an equally aching body but still smiling through the pain because they would've made it.

If only Giyuu had gotten to the river a bit earlier, you'd be swooning over Urokodaki's food and excitedly tell the elder man about all the achievements and experiences you gained. You, too, would be alive and smiling.

The young boy stopped dead in his tracks as his blue eyes spotted Urokodaki chopping up some wood with an axe which the former Hashira dropped when his gaze fell upon Giyuu.

Sadness lingered in Urokodaki's nose and was quick to mix with relief of still being alive, yet Giyuu reeked of regret, grief and sorrow. He couldn't blame the young boy. Urokodaki knew how attached Giyuu was to Sabito and you. The three of you would always train together, share food among one another like you were siblings and cut worries in half simply by being present.

Giyuu was desperately trying to bite back new sobs and tears, since Sabito would be the one to say that a man should suffer in silence. On the other hand, there was you who looked so upset when he once tried to hide an injury from you.

"Stop acting tough." You had once said.

The entire sky came crashing down on Giyuu as he felt his teacher's arms wrapping around him to welcome him home, to express gratefulness that he made it back.

"Sabito and [Name]!" Giyuu could no longer hold his tears at bay, they freely rolled down his cheek like waves crashed into the shore. It was too much and yet not enough. "Urokodaki-san! They.. They..!" His voice broke a little more with each word that Giyuu tried to force out of his throat, but the lump of sorrow cut through his vocal chords.

"I'm glad you're back," was all Urokodaki managed to say and he hoped it'd take a bit of weight off the young boy's shoulders. He feared that if he tried to speak any more, he would cry more than he already was, as well. During the time as a teacher, Urokodaki had lost so many of his students who grew on him ㅡ Sabito, Giyuu and you were no exception.

Sadness poked around deeply in his heart, but it was Urokodaki's duty to make sure that his student wouldn't be overcome by his current despair. He knew Giyuu would be able to overcome his sorrow and grow into a good person.

But first, time needed to heal the wound which was still bleeding so heavily.

Giyuu rubbed his eyes dry with the sleeve of his haori, took off the small bag he carried on his back and showed Urokodaki the broken blade which had belonged to you. "Do you.. Do you think it can be fixed?"

Urokodaki took the two parts into his hands and was surprised at how jaded the blade was. It didn't even cut his finger like it was supposed to and the color had disappeared from the sword like it had never been wielded by anyone in the first place. "That can be arranged. I'll ask Haganezuka."

Two weeks passed when Haganezuka arrived with two swords in his hands and nearly lost his mind when Giyuu said that he wasn't a dual wielder and only needed one blade.

"You little..! What do you mean you can't wield both?! It'd be disgraceful not to wield both Nichirin blades!" Haganezuka screeched loud enough for his voice to echo through every corner of Mount Sagiri. It took so long to make the broken sword look like it had never been broken and this brat didn't even think about testing it out!

Giyuu never pulled the blade out of the sheath as you were the one who should do it and witness the change of colors with your own eyes. "I'm sorry." It wasn't necessary to let the swords smith in on the details when he was a stranger. A weird stranger, at that.

"Sorry doesn't cut it!"

Despite the strange encounter with Haganezuka who was oddly dedicated to his craft, as Giyuu would put it, the sword was always held close to his heart. It was a reminder of the life Sabito and you gifted him, that he should work harder to be able to protect those around him.

When Giyuu climbed through the ranks and was able to afford his own estate, the first thing he had hung up was the sword you fought with.

It was 8 years later when bare feet danced on the wooden floor like water flowed through the river. No unnecessary steps, elegance connected every single move like stars made up beautiful constellations which left people in awe each and every time.

Several women watched with parted lips and sparkling eyes as this person was a constellation herself, someone they could learn and profit from if they watched closely enough. But they knew that this level of accurate and controlled movements required not only effort, but talent as well.

When feet ceased to float and the music humming in the background died down, one woman in particular ran up to the young dancer, manicured nails squishing the full cheeks together. "Isn't she amazing?" Mizu nearly squeaked with pride and reddened cheeks while receiving agreeing nods from the other women.

Mizu was an oiran living in Yoshiwara, a red light district. She was rather beautiful with her opaque hair kept into a bun and held together by golden hairpins, her lips painted crimson and fair skin, although most of her pale skin was thanks to the help of make-up.

"[Name] really is amazing," one of the women said smiling, her palms on her lap as she agreed with Mizu.

Such praise was often thrown your way only because Mizu was in the room. No one dared to openly point out your mistakes and actively help you improve your skills, so you had no choice but to ask the women yourself when Mizu was out of hearing-range.

This issue wasn't the only thing keeping everyone on the edge of their seat.

Whenever a severe mistake happened, that woman was sure to disappear within the next night. Stomping could clearly be heard, you swore the mere sound gave off a murderous intent so intense that it left you shaking underneath the security of your blankets.

When asking if one of your fellow workers could also sense the blood lust every once in a while, they said no. Apparently, they couldn't feel the immense anger creeping throughout the house like you could which left you confused. However, the fact that your senses were so sharp and sensitive to blood lust made you wonder if you had lived a different life before you woke up in Yoshiwara.

Actually, you were sure that you had lived differently before finding yourself in Yoshiwara, but your memories were erased. Proof of your previous lifestyle were your calloused palms, the small scars on them which the other women always pitied you for as it apparently wasn't fit for a lady to have rough palms.

Then there was this wristband which you wore for a reason long forgotten.

All you could remember was your name when you one day woke up on a tatami mat underneath a safe roof with several women in the room. You couldn't answer a single question regarding your past, the years of your life suddenly drowned in black as you tried your best to remember what happened, what caused the pain in your body, but it was no good.

"Thank you for your kind words. If you'd excuse me." As you turned around to leave for the bathrooms, you felt Mizu's eyes on your back and you knew that she had nothing but love swimming in her dark eyes, and yet, you sensed something much deeper, so much darker lurking within them that a shiver rolled down your spine.

One woman responsible for today's cleaning stood next to the highly-respected oiran. "Wherever you picked [Name] up from, it's a gift you found her. She might as well take your place someday, Mizu-san."

A gift you were indeed, but the way you danced bugged Mizu. It reminded her of the fighting techniques of Demon Slayers. Filthy. "Yeah. Who knows what might've happened to her if it was someone else that found her.." Mizu brought the sleeve of her kimono up to her lips, hiding the lower part of her face and tilted her head to the side as she watched you disappear behind shoji doors, briefly remembering where she had found you nearly a decade ago.

"Oh my, what a poor thing." Mizu knelt down to where you laid on the ground, your breathing was shallow and your hand outstretched as if reaching out to the sword in front of you. Manicured nails pushed your bangs out of your face and traced the bruises along your cheek and neck, feeling that your jaw was, indeed, broken.

"You'd look beautiful without all these ugly stains," she mused while twisting a strand of your dirtied hair around her index finger, crimson red lips frowned at the miserable state you were in. So far gone, you couldn't even hear her voice, feel her touch.

Reaching behind her head, Mizu took two hairpins out of her hair and styled your hair into a bun, the hairpins keeping the look somewhat together. You reminded her of the daughter she once had before the small child suddenly died. Mizu desired nothing more than to have her daughter back and you were the perfect fit.

"You'd make a beautiful oiran, one day. Maybe I should make you my daughter." Mizu smiled into the night at the thought of having a daughter, such a stunning one, too. With her, you'd be better off than with those filthy slayers if the sword in front of you was anything to go by. She could give you all the riches you desired, all the kimonos, money, men and women you could ever want.

Those Demon Hunters could only offer you death.

"From today on, you'll be my lovely daughter," Mizu cheered and poked at your cheek to maybe gain a reaction, but all she heard was an incoherent mumble of names she had never heard of. Unimportant, these people no longer mattered.

Carefully, Mizu picked you up with a smile and disappeared into the night.

The water was pleasantly warm against your skin as you washed the heavy make-up off your face, several colors went down the drain and no longer stuck in place like a mask. Luckily, you didn't have to show your face to any outsider that night, or else the amount of make-up would suffocate you.

A sigh escaped through your lips when your eyes landed on that red wristband, the threads wet and soaked with water, but still perfectly intact. You didn't know why, but your heart always ached a little whenever you thought about its origin and the possible memories connected to this little item.

Maybe someone important gave it to you?

Maybe that someone was looking for you and could help you regain your memories!

Ah, what were you thinking? Stuff like this only existed in romantic novels. 8 years had passed and no one had ever looked for you, you were certain of that. No had ever asked around for you, no one had ever put up a picture of your face, no one had cared enough.

Whenever you'd ask Mizu about where she found you and what you did before joining the house she lived in, she brushed you off, saying that it was time for your Japanese class, time to practice calligraphy or dancing, when in reality she only wanted you to be distracted and busy.

"Maybe I should give up and just live with it..," you mumbled into the towel as you dried your face. At least, you would no longer anger Mizu or make the other women nervous when asking anything regarding your past.

Having made up your mind, you trudged back into your empty room. No matter how many paintings you had hung up, no matter how many clothes filled your wardrobe and no matter how much jewelry Mizu made you wear on your hands and neck, it was empty.

You were lucky to live, but were you really alive or simply a shell of who you used to be?

After countlessly tossing and turning, your body finally found some rest and dragged you into a deep slumber.

Streets filled with people were never one of Giyuu's favorites. He preferred executing his job in the mountains where he wouldn't have to hide his sword from the police and didn't have the stress of potentially having to protect a large number of people if a demon was to show up.

One good thing about cities was the food. The steaming bowl of ramen warmed Giyuu up from within as the chilly evening breeze nipped at his cheeks, tinting the flesh a faint shade of red.

"It's almost unbelievable that a demon is supposed to be here. Right, Tomioka-san?" Shinobu sat next to Giyuu and enjoyed her own portion of food. Just behind her back, people chattered away and children played tag with each other, from somewhere further away, she could even make out the faint strumming of an instrument.

Apparently, a demon was hiding somewhere in Yoshiwara. Every few months, women, prostitutes, to be more specific, suddenly disappeared and had never been seen again. Of course, the rumor of those women losing her footing had spread, but this was as waterproof as paper.

Those women had never shown signs of wanting to run away with a man. Love letters were never found nor did they suddenly receive a good amount of money or saw someone especially frequently.

"Demons can hide anywhere." Giyuu's ears picked up how some men asked for some lady's services and briefly, the thought of a demon hiding in a brothel crossed his mind. However, he had never heard of a demon seeking refuge in such business since those places were too crowded to commit a proper murder.

"You're not wrong about this." Shinobu sat back in her seat and put her chopsticks on her empty plate before something caught her attention. What was this red bracelet around Giyuu's wrist? Had it always been there or did he get it recently?

A teasing smile tugged the corners of her lips upwards as she rested her chin on her palm, an index finger pointing at Giyuu's wrist. "Tomioka-san, did you get that wristband from someone special? I didn't know you were the type to be so romantic!" She chirped.

Blue irises gazed at the red threads laced into one thick wristband which was usually hidden underneath the sleeve of his uniform or haori, so no one really ever saw it. "It's nothing like that." Despite his nonchalant words, Giyuu couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Eh?! Are you smiling?!" Shinobu could hardly believe her eyes and felt a shiver run down her spine. This was..scary.

"..We're here to look for a demon, aren't we?"

Attentively, you sat close to a river, eyes wide and scanning the area for a familiar mop of black hair tied into a low ponytail. From afar, you could hear an old man giving someone the instruction to become one with the water in order to master the breathing techniques.

Just a moment later, a yell echoed through the mountains followed by a noisy splash and the yell got cut off.

"___-san really threw him into the river, huh," you chuckled as you remembered how you nearly drowned the first time the elderly man tossed you into the river like a rubber duck. Now it was the boy's turn.

Minutes of silence filled the space around you, only the water flowing in front of you filled the tranquil space and then, several gasps shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

The boy you had to look out for coughed up water as he dragged himself out of the river, his body soaked to the bone and what was that on his hand? Blood? He possibly cut himself on a stone underwater.

Leaping up from your seated position and jogging over to your friend, you gave his back a few firm smacks until he breathed normally again. "I feel like ____-san really wants to kill us," the boy looked up at you, but..you couldn't see his face. It was black.

"Speaking of dying. What was that on your hand?" you spoke and tried to get a look at the boy's hand, but he quickly hid his hands behind his back, pressing the back of his hands against his lower back. "___, show me!" You insisted and eventually, your friend showed you the cut on the back of his hand.

The cut wasn't deep, but it still bled profusely down his wrist. Clicking your tongue, you reached into your pocket and revealed simple bandages which you always kept with you in case you got injured. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" The boy saw the upset look on your face, brows furrowed and your eyes scolding him.

Wasn't it his friend that said that a man should bear his pain in silence?

"I'm sorry, [Name]," he avoided your gaze, focusing on the bracelet you had once made for him, instead. It was better than having to bear the disappointment in your eyes.

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around the boy's hand a bit too tight, making him flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

In a cold sweat, gasping for air, you suddenly sat straight in bed. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, your sleepwear was drenched in sweat at your neck and back, the fabric clung to you like a second skin. Putting a hand on your chest, you tried your best to control your breathing, but the more you tried, the more you could feel a headache stinging in the back of your head.

Whatever you just saw, it was a mere dream, right? Yet, one could usually hear names and see the faces of the people appearing in a dream, but whenever names fell, they were muted. Whenever you saw a face, it was covered in black.

They were nameless, faceless people.

Perhaps, this was a memory?

"Crap," you hissed as the stinging got to your eyes like a migraine and roughly pushed the blanket off your body as you got up to maybe talk about it with Mizu or someone else. Yes, you promised not to bother anyone with your dreams or past, but this left your hands and mind shaking.

Carefully, as to not make any noise, your bare feet padded along the wooden hallways, every shoji door was shut and no light was on, indicating that all of the women were busy with men downstairs. What a pain, you thought. Keeping married and single men pleased at night was something which never appealed to you, even though Mizu had raised you to possess the needed skills.

Lost in thought, you nearly missed how the light of several candles lit up a single room, the shoji door wasn't even fully closed. You finally found someone!

"I'm sorry for bothering you this late at night, but I was wondering ifㅡ"

You were greeted by the sight of blood being smeared across the wall and pooling right at your feet, bones sticking out from the corpse of the woman who had praised you earlier. Your head screamed at you to run, but your body didn't listen. It was itching to reach for something that wasn't strapped to your hip.

"It's a shame you had to see me like this, [Name]." Opaque hair was loose, red lipstick got replaced by the dead woman's blood which was also dripping down claws.

Mizu tossed the corpse away from her and faced you, slowly approaching you with cold steps. Her pupils were no longer round but resembled that of a cat. Smirking, she watched as your legs trembled in fear when she delicately cupped your face in her hand. "I promised myself to never eat you unless you saw me killing someone. But maybe it's exactly because you are my daughter that you'll be extra nutritious."

Horns made of bones stuck out from Mizu's head, resembling the ears of a bunny. At that very moment, you heard a voice inside your head.

"Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"Demon!" You gasped, pushed Mizu away from you with all the strength you had in your arms and made a run for it. Splinters dug into the soles of your feet, but you didn't care. What mattered was your survival, your life, the life Haruto and Tsutako left behind for you!

Wait, Haruto and Tsutako..? Who..?

You stopped dead in your tracks, the sound of Mizu's traditional heels rhythmically clicking against the floor haunted you.

Fleeing downstairs was no option. Innocent lives could easily be taken by Mizu and there was no way you could protect all of them when you couldn't even properly protect yourself. Panic-stricken, your eyes found nothing but paintings decorating the walls, a mere fan and a..

A katana!

Grabbing the katana from the wall, you held it with both hands as tightly as you could, the tip pointing at Mizu's neck.

"You're hilarious, [Name]! Don't tell me you're remembering now when it's too late." Mizu pushed some of her hair behind her shoulder as she laughed at your poor attempt to take her down. However, it seemed like your body was beginning to remember whatever a fragile human once taught you and it wasn't like you had completely forgotten how to move, either.

A laugh shook the demon's shoulders as she stretched her palm out and let a bone grow from her skin. Mizu pointed the sharp bone towards you, shooting it in your direction with the expectation to heavily injure you and kill you in the end.

What she didn't expect was the way you vertically cut through the bone, letting drop to the ground uselessly. Your jaw was clenched, eyes wide open with sweat trickling down your forehead and the katana in your hand like it had always belonged there.

"I don't know what you're saying, but I know that I can't let you live!" Zooming right in Mizu's face, you aimed for her stomach to weaken her, but she was faster. Grabbing your head, she effectively put you off-balance and rammed another bone into your side as if she saw no daughter in you.

"You've always had a funny side to you, but right now, you're looking like a jester. You, killing me? Not even you are that dumb." Mizu wore an unimpressed expression as you fell to your knees and coughed up blood. Hastily, you ripped a good amount of fabric from your yukata and tightly wrapped it around your waist to slow down the bleeding.

The demon never stopped you. Sooner or later, you'd faint and die from blood loss. This was nothing but a fool's attempt to desperately prolong their end.

"That katana can't kill me. As a former Demon Slayer, you should know that only a Slayer's blade and sunlight can kill a demon." A swift kick to your face had blood dripping down your nose, but your palm wrapped itself around Mizu's ankle tight enough to make your arm's veins pop, tight enough to prevent her, a demon, from moving.

"Breathing Techniques make it possible for a human to gain demonic strength themselves. But unlike demons, a human's stamina is limited."

Within a moment, Mizu's ankle was in your hand, her blood flowing down your forearm as you tossed the cut off limb away. Immediately, you pulled her into a close-range fight, but the several bones beginning to stick out from her body pushed you further away with each step you took. The sharp bones left cuts on not only your face, but your arms and legs as well.

"I don't care if it can't kill you! I refuse to go down without a fight! I'll simply keep you busy until the sun rises!"

Searching for that demon in Yoshiwara was a lost cause.

No one had any suspicions or those people were just too scared to talk, fearing that they might mysteriously disappear, as well. The tension in Yoshiwara spread far and wide, yet there wasn't even the trace of a demon to be found.

"We can't talk. Otherwise, we'll disappear, as well."

"Those women are said to have lost their footing, but.. No, it doesn't matter."

"..Whatever are you talking about?"

Excuses upon excuses. But Giyuu could hardly interrogate simple passengers and ask them about the existence of a being which they were unaware of or didn't believe in.

Frustrated, he shut the shoji door of his home and sighed.

Suddenly, a shrill clink bounced off the plain walls of Giyuu's home and as he raised his gaze, he saw the Nichirin sword ㅡ which was supposed to be yours if you had survived ㅡ on the floor, the steel shone in the moonlight peeking through the windows of his home.

His heart felt heavy as he wondered what color your katana would have become, how you would've wielded it, how bright your smile would've been if you had had the chance to receive it.

Giyuu picked the colorless weapon up, wanted to put it back on its place at the wall when suddenly his kasugai crow landed on the window sill, cawing so loudly that it made his ears ring.

"[Name] who was assumed to have died in the final selection 8 years ago, needs backup fighting a demon!" The old crow impatiently bounced around, wings already spread and ready to take off. "Hurry to Yoshiwara! Hurry, hurry! "

"[Name]..?" Gradually, Giyuu's usually calm gaze widened and filled with infinite questions while he was wordlessly staring at your sword. Why were you alive and how in the world did you survive? Why did you never come back? What held you back?

With a flick of his wrist, he hid the plain Nichirin blade in the sleeve of his mismatched haori and was out of his home faster than the crow could perceive.

The Hashira couldn't be late. He couldn't be late, again.

This time, he'd be the one to protect you.

"Get out of here!" You cried to the people who had been very obviously enjoying themselves with alcohol, food and women until Mizu had kicked you through the floor which was also the ceiling of the floor below.

No one seemed to fully realize what happened, reality only kicked in slowly when they took note of your battered form and Mizu coming down the stairs as elegantly as ever, but the blood on her and the aura she radiated created nothing but fear.

All of a sudden, they screamed and ran, talking about a monster possessing their beloved lady who was attempting to kill one of their own.

Making sure that everyone got out safely was a mistake. You didn't even realize Mizu leaving her spot on the stairs as she was suddenly right in front of you, way too close to be considered a safe distance. Crap, there was no way you'd get out of this unscathed.

The bone sticking out from Mizu's palm aimed for your right eye, ready to pierce through your skull and put an end to the prosperous life you could lead thanks to the demonic woman. In an act of despair, you swung your katana vertically in an attempt to cut off her arm, but Mizu just smirked as the blade got stuck, not even budging a centimeter, anymore.

This was it. This attack would be your downfall, you thought.

"Water Breathing. Second form: Water Wheel."

You stumbled backwards, falling on your knees and all your eyes could catch was Mizu's arm suddenly dropping to the ground along with the katana stuck in her flesh. Blood stained the carpet an ugly red, a loud hiss came from Mizu's direction, her pupils shaking and mouth unusually quiet.

"A..H-Hashira..?" Claws digged into the flesh of her palm bit by bit, her fist shook and goosebumps were scattered across her skin. Just the mere aura of that Demon Slayer terrified her; he was way too calm and yet she could feel racing anger bubbling underneath the surface. No, she couldn't let a mere human intimidate her. What ridiculous excuse of a demon would get intimidated by a man wielding a sword?

Hashira..?

Looking up, you saw the broad back of a man wearing a mismatched haori but what stood out to you was the red wristband he wore. It looked like the one around your wrist but could it be the same? What were the odds of two strangers wearing the same red bracelet? Impossible.

A sudden sting in your head interrupted your running mind.

Fingers tangled themselves into your hair, pulling at the roots.

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around Giyuu's hand a bit too tight, making the boy flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

Panting, you closed your eyes shut until it hurt. Why did you feel like you knew the man in front of you?

..Giyuu!" You finally yelled the man's name out like he was the answer to everything you had been looking for, like he was the missing piece to the puzzle of your life. Unknowingly, tears freely flowed from your eyes, making the cuts on your face sting and burn.

A quick move of his wrist was enough to flick Mizu's blood off his sword. "Don't you dare touch her!" Giyuu wasn't one to lose his calm demeanor often, but what he absolutely couldn't stand was the ones he cared for getting hurt, bruised, made to suffer.

You wiped the blood trickling from your mouth away with the back of your hand, lips tugging themselves upwards as you pushed yourself up to your feet once more and stood next to Giyuu. "I'll fight with you. This is a personal matter."

Giyuu was about to protest, tell you to leave this place, but the sharp shimmer cutting through your eyes immediately took down every word that was on his tongue. Never had you backed down from a fight, never had you let anything break you, never had you ever given up.

Wordlessly, he let the katana he hid in the sleeve of the haori, slide into his palm and handed it to you. As soon as your fingers were wrapped around the handle, the blade turned into a clear baby blue, several shades lighter than Giyuu's Nichirin blade.

"I'll handle the bones. You go for the head."

Giyuu dashed ahead while you cut your way through the maze of bones sticking out from wherever Mizu desired, her attacks got rougher as if she was suddenly frightened. Good. "You brat! Do you really think one more person would be enough to claim my head?!" Mizu stomped her foot once.

That stomping.. You were familiar with it.

It'd occur once every few months before a woman would go missing without a trace. This action always frightened you as the murderous intent in it was so overwhelming that unconsciously, tears would brim your eyes.

Quickly, you grabbed the back of Giyuu's haori and slid to the side with him before several rib-shaped bones dashed up from the ground, their sharp tips shining underneath the chandelier. If you hadn't been so familiar with Mizu's blood lust, you were sure you would've been pierced pork by now.

Thanks to the sliding, you had gotten close enough to Mizu, giving you the perfect opportunity to chop off her head before she could cause any more pain and damage. "Go!" You cried out loud enough for your voice to crack and swung your blade at Mizu's face to slice her horizontally, the demon stopping your blade with her bare hands.

"Water Breathing. First form: Water Surface Slash."

Giyuu had gotten behind Mizu and let his katana cut through the flesh of her neck, the head of the oiran sliding off her shoulders and her body collapsing to the ground. "Impossible!" She screeched in nothing but anger and disappointment at you.

"You ungrateful bitch! I saved and raised you and this is how you repay the favor?! How dare youㅡ!" Tears streamed down her cheeks while you were looking at her with a drained expression. Bruises and cuts stained your skin, not to mention the stab wound in your waist which was still bleeding. Bangs hid your eyes from her view, the smell of ash was strong in your nose.

"I'm very thankful that you raised me, gave me food and a roof above my head. I will never forget that. But making humans suffer by letting them die a painful death, eating them without a shred of guilt in your guts.." The grip on the katana's handle tightened in anger, sadness and grief as you remembered your brother, mother, Tsutako. All those people who were so brave and kind and dead. "Savior, Mother, whatever you are. I absolutely won't forgive you for this!"

"Do you think that matters?! You're nothing but a whore I raised! You, too, won't go to heaven and I'll wait for you in hell!" Before Mizu could spit any more words, her head and body dissolved into nothing, not even the ashes remained.

Slowly, you turned around to face Giyuu, a peaceful smile lingered on your lips as you stumbled towards the one your heart had been missing for longer than you could think. Strength left your hand and the katana Giyuu had tossed you earlier fell to the ground. "Giyuu.. I'm so happy you survived.." You tripped over your own two feet, about to fall, but it was okay.

Giyuu caught you.

"[Name], I.." He spoke, but soon noticed that you had fallen unconscious with your cheek pressed up against his chest, eyes closed and breathing so calmly in his strong arms. Serenity was written all over your face, despite the dirt, cuts, blood and pain you went through. You were at peace with Giyuu around just like when you two were children.

His stoic mask shattered as he pressed your unconscious body flush to his and buried a hand in your hair, his knees giving in and meeting the floor with a dull thud. "I'm so sorry I didn't find you earlier." Giyuu buried his face in your neck as he softly cried against your skin, a wave of immense relief hitting him at once.

At least, you weren't dead like the Hashira believed for nearly 10 years.

"I swear I'll make sure to protect you."

The sun was warm on your skin, gentle eyes focused on a blue butterfly which had entered through the open window and rested on your index finger. Its small legs tickled you ever so slightly and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the feeling.

After having fallen unconscious for a day or two, you woke up at the Butterfly Estate where three very sweet girls awaited you coming back to reality; you learned that their names were Sumi, Kiyo and Naho. They brought you everything you needed and frequently kept you company.

With your eyes opening once more, you also regained your memories. You remembered everything from the day you lost your parents, to the training with Urokodaki, Sabito and Giyuu, to the point you had desperately tried to reach your katana and passed out. Although a little bit of regret lingered at your soul, you couldn't find it in you to be upset with yourself.

Life continuously knitted several paths for one to take, but it was up to several strings of fortunate and unfortunate events alike which path they'd lead one on.

Anyone could say you were unlucky to have lost your memories and had to part ways with the ones you loved the most. But if you thought about it, you were very lucky. So very lucky that Mizu had taken you in, that she fought you and that a string of fate decided to intertwine Giyuu's and your path once more.

The butterfly on your finger flew away as the shoji door slid open and revealed no one else but Shinobu who had watched over your physical and mental state after the confrontation with Mizu. The Insect Hashira was incredibly kind and you felt like you developed some kind of friendship with her.

As she sat down on your bed to give you the last bit of medicine you had to swallow, you couldn't help but notice her eyes lingering on your wristband.

"How come you like Tomioka-san?"

You nearly choked on the pills, heat warmed up your cheeks and the tips of your ears while you stumbled over your words like a child tripped over rocks. "I-I what?! It's nothing like t-that, Shinobu!" Comically, you shook your head and threw your arms around as if that would convince the dark-haired woman.

"Oh? But Tomioka-san has the exact same wristband and when I asked him about it, he smiled. Do you know how scary that was?"

You couldn't bite back the laugh that ripped through you at Shinobu's words. The fact that Giyuu seemed to smile so rarely that it was considered creepy when he did it, was both ridiculous and funny to you.

On the other side of the shoji door, Giyuu wondered what could possibly make you laugh so much. He didn't ponder too much on it since this was a sound he hadn't heard in so long and was actually quite fond of. Not that the Water Hashira would ever say that out loud.

As Giyuu stepped inside, he was immediately greeted by your warm smile and despite the bandaids on your face and bandages around your arms, he was taken aback at how pretty you were. Even after 8 years, you still made his heart feel a certain, funny way with little to no effort at all.

"I guess I should leave the two of you alone. Although I can't deny that I'm surprised you like Tomioka-san enough to willingly be alone with him."

"I..am not disliked by people."

"That's all you have to say?" Shinobu wondered out loud and left the room, the shoji door closing behind her with a dull thud bouncing off the warmly-colored walls.

As Giyuu sat with you on the bed, you couldn't help but notice that his facial features got much sharper over the years, his demeanor became stoic, but you were quick to figure out that Giyuu hadn't grown jaded. Those he cared about, he would show his emotions to.

"Giyuu, Iㅡ"

Whatever you wanted to say got blown away as you suddenly found yourself in Giyuu's arms, your chin resting in his broad shoulder while his hands grasped at your clothes as if you were to disappear if he held you any lighter. "All this time, I thought you were dead."

Wrapping your arms around the tall Hashira, you easily melted into the heartfelt hug and felt relief as well as happiness prick at your eyes. You couldn't cry now. "I'm right here, Giyuu. I told you I'd never be far, remember?" Each syllable was a bit shakier than the previous one, but it made the feelings in your heart only grow firmer and deeper.

Affectionately, you wrapped your pinky around Giyuu's and brought the two intertwined fingers up to eye level while resting your forehead on his own. You basked in the closeness with the one you'd been aching to meet, swam in his calm aura and felt your heart skip several beats as if it had fallen.

A lump found home in Giyuu's throat and effectively cut off any word he could dream of saying. He wasn't used to anyone getting this close to him, wasn't used to someone being affectionate and gentle with him. And he certainly wasn't used to seeing your serene face after so, so long.

But he liked it.

"I'd never forget," Giyuu quietly confessed and felt your breath fan over his cheeks, a delicate smile tugging at his lips as the promise from your childhood was renewed. It was the first time you had seen Giyuu smile and contrary to Shinobu's words, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

Step by step, the sun began disappearing behind mountains and dipped the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, blue and pink. Soon, the stars would light up the sky and the moon would shine brightly.

But with the sun setting, it also meant that demons were about to crawl out from whatever hole they hid themselves in.

"Grab your sword, [Name]."

"Huh?"

Giyuu knew he was about to weave you into a life which could never be described as safe or domestic, but he never forgot that you had already decided to become a Demon Slayer when you two were children. He had seen the way you fought, backed him up and sensed a demon's blood lust.

After all this time, you never truly forgot who you were.

"It won't take long until the demons come out. Let's go."

You nearly fell from your bed as you hastily reached for your sword and a bit of confusion lingered in your mind. Just what was Giyuu thinking? It was hard to tell with his face barely moving like it used to.

"I never officially passed the final selection," you sighed and looked at the sword in your grasp which was once broken, lying right in front of you. "I can't just go with you..can I?"

Giyuu could feel doubt and insecurity seeping from you which definitely wasn't characteristic for you. When you fought Mizu, you were hell-bent on defeating her, despite the injuries you took. Was it guilt from back then making you doubt..?

"What happened 8 years ago is unfortunate, [Name]." Pitch black bangs threw a subtle shadow over Giyuu's eyes, but his voice was, dare you say, soothing. "But if you still want to fight, then I'll train you until the next final selection. Going on patrol with me is considered training."

It was okay for you to become a swordsman once again, right? Urokodaki didn't put you through hellish training and taught you everything he knew just for you to quit. With Giyuu's help, you could surely put an end to the existence of demons. Yes, you could do it!

Confidently, you strapped your Nichirin blade to your waist, grabbed Giyuu's hand and pulled him through the hallways of the Butterfly Estate until you were finally outside. "Then what are we waiting for? Training is about to begin!"

Faintly, Giyuu could hear Shinobu, Aoi and the three girls bid their goodbyes. His eyes fell down to your hand holding his tightly with the wristbands nearly touching one another.

Perhaps, you were really bound by the wrist and though the red threads got heavily tangled along the way, it never got severed.

#tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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youalexturnermeon · 4 years ago

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Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing

Wordcount: 1589

“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”

You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.

“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips. “Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.

“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”

You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.

“Most certainly not me.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”

Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.

“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”

“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?” Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.

Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.

“How’s the love life going?”

“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.

“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”

He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.

“Actually, quite the opposite?”

Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.

“What is it?”

You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.

“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”

Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?

“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.

“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”

You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.

“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”

“Who said something about fucking?”

You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.

“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.

“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “

“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.

“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”

“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”

“’Cause I like you.” “Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”

“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?

“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”

“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine” You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.

“See, I made you laugh”

“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.

“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.

“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”

You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.

“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.

You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.

“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.” “I don’t!” “You do, you like him.” “I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”

But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.

**************************************************************************************

Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?

also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff

PART 2

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence fluff #badass reader #billy zabka #william zabka #cobra kai #cobra kai one shot #cobra kai imagine #karate kid #karate kid imagine

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sariahsue · 4 years ago

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Of Secrets and Snowflakes

What am I doing? What am I doing? What on earth am I doing? The obvious answer—stalking a celebrity in broad daylight—didn't seem to cover the magnitude of her stupidity. Ladybug knew she shouldn't be out here, in the cold, sitting in a barren, snow-glazed tree, staring at her breath and Adrien's front door. She was sure to be caught, and the worst of it was that she couldn't even see his window from here. All of the dangers, with none of the benefits.

It had been twenty-four hours since Chat Noir's accidental identity reveal and Ladybug just wanted to 'check on' her partner. Not talk to him exactly, but just see him. Make sure he was okay. Without him seeing her. But she couldn't really do that from here, so she'd have to loop around to his window.

Not giving herself the chance to change her mind, she unhooked her yoyo and jumped. Each swing closer gave her another ten reasons to turn back. It was too soon. Neither of them were ready. She shouldn't be putting him in danger like this.

But Ladybug was suddenly on his fence, balancing dangerously between making one last leap to his window ledge and retreating. The quiet of his yard made her stop. A breeze skimmed the tops off of snow drifts. Sunlight reflected off the icicles hanging from the roof.

She really should check on him. It hadn't been right to dump him and run like she had yesterday.

She took a breath. It was probably best to leave. Neither of them would be able to act professionally now that his identity was out in the open. If they didn't put up boundaries now, they wouldn't be able to protect Paris. And if they couldn't protect Paris, then Hawk Moth would win. But boundaries could easily become walls, and then they'd drift farther and farther apart and then—

Ladybug heard the wet smack before she felt the cold of the snowball exploding across her cheek.

"HEADSHOT! WOO!" Adrien jumped out from behind a very tall, thin snowman as chunks of snow dripped off Ladybug's cheek.

"Go on, tell me how impressed you are with that throw," he said, pulling off his woolen beanie and flourishing it as he bowed in her direction. "And I'm not even in my suit right now!"

"Shh!" Ladybug hissed, snapping her head around to make sure no one was close enough to listen.

"Who's going to hear me?" Adrien asked, putting his hat back on. The bright red pom pom flopped into his face. "My father?" He waved a mittened glove (again black and red, she was sensing a theme) at the snowman. With its pointed hair and narrow frame, it looked suspiciously familiar. Adrien ducked behind the snowman, raising one of its tree branch arms in a wave.

The snowman was much more a pile of snow if anything, shaped tall and thin into a pointed tip that resembled the twirl of an ice cream cone. It was all angles, even its thin tree branch arms stood from its frigid form and perched above its long carrot nose were a pair of oddly familiar thick-rimmed glasses. Ladybug bit down on her lip to stifle her laughter as she easily recognized the ill-fashioned, candy-cane-striped ascot tied around its neck.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," he spoke with an exaggerated deep voice. "'Tis I! Gabriel Snowgreste!"

"Did you steal those glasses it's wearing?" she asked, barely managing to hold back her giggles.

"They're a spare pair," Adrien said. "He won't even notice. I want to show you something." He held up a hand to her, ready to help her down, if she chose.

Ladybug chewed her lip as she hesitated. This was dangerous. The lines between them were already starting to fuzz and disappear, and if she couldn't maintain distance—no, she could. This wasn't any different than the other rare occasions she'd been to his house.

Ignoring his hand, Ladybug jumped down to land beside him. Snow crunched under her feet. "I can't stay for long," she said, looking from her hands, to the icicles hanging from his roof, and then to his lips—ahem, back to her feet. "I'm on patrol and I don't have much time to chat up random civilians."

"Aha, 'patrol.' Gotcha," Adrien said. He took a step closer, and she started to wonder if the pink on his cheeks was only from the frigid air. "Well, thank you, M'Ladybug, for stopping by to see me, someone you've never met before, when you were obviously so busy. Tell me, what's your favorite part of being a superhero? The powers? The fans? Or is it the amazing company you keep?"

She couldn't help a small giggle. Adrien, your Chat is showing. She wasn't fast enough to convincingly cover it with a cough and saw his eyes sparkle and the color on his cheeks deepen, and realized she'd made a mistake already. Professional. Distant.

Dang it.

"Since you're here, want to stay and see what I made?" He took her silence for assent and reached for her hand, leading her across the yard.

Brisk air blew at her back, creeping across the exposed skin of her neck and ears, but Ladybug's brain was overheating. Stay here? With Adrien? Forever? Her steps were halting and uneven. When he turned to see what the matter was, he dropped her wrist immediately.

"Sorry!" he said, putting up his hands. "I didn't mean—I shouldn't have grabbed—s-sorry, I mean, we can hang out if you want? I've got hot chocolate inside. We could talk about—"

Wind whistled through the empty branches above them, carrying snowflakes and another dozen reasons to say yes, that sounded wonderful. Adrien—her partner—was warm and inviting.

"O-or," he continued, looking around the yard for inspiration. "We could watch something? Or I could read something to you? Not that I think you can't read, but …" His voice stuttered and died away under her continued silence. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed."

It had only been a day, and their sync, their perfect harmony was already ruined, she could tell. How many times had Chat Noir simply looked at her and known what she was thinking? And now he was reading her all wrong.

"I really shouldn't be here," she said. "It's not safe."

"No one's going to see us," Adrien promised, a little desperately. "And we're friends, aren't we? We can hang out, right?"

"Well …" Another gust of wind, and movement caught her eye: the stick arms of Gabriel Snowgreste. Adrien had been out here all alone, ignored by everyone he cared about, and she couldn't have that. Ladybug was a woman of many plans, so from the ashes of 'pretend she had never met Adrien' another one was quickly born. It was called 'pretend everything was under control.' For his sake, and for the sake of the team, she'd set her emotions aside.

"Of course we're friends," she said, before firmly reminding herself, and nothing more. "Lead the way."

In three short skips, Adrien led her around the corner of the mansion, straight toward a mound of snow that went up to his shoulders. "Tada!"

"Oh," Ladybug said. She took in the patches of dead grass peeking out around the edges of the mound, and the shovel leaning against the side. What was it? He'd obviously worked hard, and she didn't want to say the wrong thing. "L-looks impressive?" She swallowed hard, trying to force her stutter down.

"You're admiring the wrong side, LB." He crouched and twisted out of sight. On the correct side of the small dome was a stubby tunnel opening, with a hole just wide enough to crawl through. An igloo. How had he found enough time to build an entire igloo? Shaking her head, she followed him inside.

The interior was small. Even with her height disadvantage, she wouldn't have been able to lie down without her feet sticking out the door, but that only added to the igloo's coziness factor and—she swallowed hard—sense of intimacy. Dim sunlight filtered through the thinner areas of the dome, creating a soft glow. And Adrien smiled sweetly at her as she sat down. She needed to make this quick.

"Thank you," he said, scooting closer to her.

"F-f-for?" There was no reason to stutter. There was no reason to shiver in anticipation as he lined his body up next to hers.

"Coming to see me. It's not a patrol day, so—" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I miss you when I don't get to see you."

It was an odd time to realize that igloos had no windows. No one could see them, no one would witness whatever happened next. And she really needed some air, because Adrien was right there, his face illuminating the small space. How many times had Chat Noir—Adrien—told her that he loved her? The heat on her face was going to melt the igloo he worked so hard on.

"Glad I could make you beel fetter—I mean f-feel better!" Ladybug scrambled for the tunnel entrance and for safety. The biting chill brought her clarity. She'd thought she needed more time to adjust to her two favorite boys being one person, but that wasn't the real reason she was running away. She couldn't be trusted around him. Distance and control and careful plans were no match for Adrien Agreste.

"I bet you'd make a good snow angel." Adrien lay in the igloo's entrance, face in his hands and staring at her, freezing her on the spot. "Because you're so angelic."

Ladybug kind of, sort of, maybe, gaped at him for several seconds before hitching her heart back into place and closing her mouth.

"Sorry, was that too much?" he asked.

She managed to squeak out a small, "No!" before she dropped to her knees and kissed his forehead, letting her mouth rest against his skin just a fraction of a second longer than she thought she should. "Maybe next time, Chaton."

And then she bolted.

Ignoring the voice that said to stay, to see where this path led, Ladybug finally achieved her distance. She didn't turn around until her feet landed on the hard sidewalk, and they were separated by the mansion's iron fence. Adrien was still visible through the bars, crouching behind the igloo to watch what she should do, expression obscured by his creation.

Even when she was trying to protect him, she hurt him.

He wasn't just Chat Noir anymore. And not just Adrien. He was her … he was so many things to her that she wasn't even sure what to call him. He was her partner. Her best friend. The person she always wanted to run to …

And was now running away from to protect.

***

That night, darkness fell on an uncertain Ladybug. Shadows stretched beneath her dangling feet as it started to snow lightly. Marinette had known all day that she needed to apologize, that much had been obvious. She'd even prepared a thermos of hot cocoa for a peace offering.

But now what? How could she go on without hurting or endangering Adrien further? The cleanest way to keep him and the city safe was to tell him they needed to only see each other during akuma attacks, to maintain the dynamic that had always worked so well. Would either of them be able to stand that?

The only clear answer was that running away from him had solved nothing. She sighed, scooped up the thermos, and pushed off to find him. She would think of something. She had to.

Ladybug was greeted with the dark, empty windows of Adrien's room. It was too early for him to be in bed, but too late for him to be at a photoshoot. If she knew Chat Noir, and if Chat Noir was Adrien, then she was sure he'd be out and about somewhere. As she raced to all his favorite hangout spots, doubt started to set in. This was another sign of their weakening bond. He had read her wrong before, and now she couldn't anticipate where he would go.

A few minutes later and getting desperate, she swung back toward his house, hoping that maybe he'd already gone home. In between street lamps, hundreds of string lights covered buildings and fences and trees. Icy puddles and piles of snow seemed to blur together as she pushed herself faster. She arced over the park and spotted a lone figure on a bench staring up the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue. Lights hung off her stone counterpart like necklaces and scarves. The person on the bench looked like marshmallow in a puffy white coat that was several sizes too big. But she recognized the red pom pom.

Landing silently next to him, she asked, "Hey, on the prowl?"

Adrien sat up a little straighter at the sound of her voice. "Ladybug! You're here! I mean, you don't have to stay if you don't want to." He slid to make room for her on the bench, ever hopeful.

"Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" She took the offered seat and uncapped the thermos for him.

"I'm guessing you were dying to see me and have been calling my name for hours."

"You haven't been here out for hours, have you?" she asked in alarm.

"No, no," he assured her. "I was just—never mind." He took a sip of the thermos to avoid her questioning look.

They passed thermos back and forth several times before Ladybug said, "Sorry for freaking out at you earlier. I'm here because I want to spend time with you, but …" The words caught in her throat. What should have followed was, but we can't right now. She couldn't say it. She was here because she wanted to be with him. Another sip hid her struggle, as she tried to buy herself time, so he wouldn't have to see her confusion, to delay the words that would hurt him.

The wind blew, and she shivered, though she resisted the urge to lean into him for warmth.

He noticed her shudder anyway. "Maybe this isn't the best time for this conversation," he said.

Ladybug pressed her fingers into the side of the thermos, trying to draw in its heat. "I'm fine." Her teeth chattered. "Not cold." They needed to have this conversation. She needed to get a hold of herself for his sake, though she wasn't sure if she meant her shivers or her emotions.

As lightly as another breeze, Adrien's arm snaked around her shoulder, bringing with it half of the coat. She tried to protest, but he just leaned over to grab the thermos from her and pulled her deeper into his side in the process. "Sorry, but you're freezing. Don't try to hide it," was the only apology he gave.

Now she'd done it. Given him the wrong impression. He thought she was stopping because of the weather and not because she was choking on her words. He'd misread the situation again. They were out of sync. All of her efforts to fix it had failed. What was she supposed to do now?

"You probably think we shouldn't be sitting out here like this," he said. "I get it."

Ladybug frowned. Did he really? Could he tell how badly they were messed up?

"It's been pretty crazy for me. I can't imagine what it's been like for you. You're always the one with the plan, and there's no way to plan our way out of this. It'll just take some time."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Maybe … she started to hope. Maybe he did get it.

"But I trust you, Ladybug. And I'm glad we're in it together," he said. "Right?"

"Always," she said. They couldn't turn back to where they had been. And they couldn't stop their partnership from developing. But as she laid her head on his shoulder and stared up at the sparkling lights illuminating their statues, she thought maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing after all.

For now, she had a new plan …

Trust her partner.

***

Author's note: This was written for the Miraculous Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season. Together, we raised $2,385 for the Organization of Transformative Works. The zine is no longer on sale, so all the authors have been given permission to post their works!

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladrien #fanfiction #incorrect quotes

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

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(Nearest) Furthest and Dearest

Written for @aphelioo as part of @thewitchersecretsanta.

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier Summary: With so many suitors and adoring fans to swoon over Jaskier, Geralt had no hope of ever being more than a protector and source of inspiration. He'd all but given up, accepting his fate. It wasn't like Witchers should want or need anything anyway.

It was an understatement to say that Jaskier was popular. He had fans across the Continent who adored him to an almost alarming extent. This made Geralt both happy for his friend but also rather sad for himself. Because, in the constant stream of admirers, Geralt didn’t stand out. He didn’t have a special place in Jaskier’s life. Well, he did, he was Jaskier’s muse, took him on adventures and provided inspiration for songs. But that wasn’t all Geralt wanted to be. Like the many other adoring fans, he had only gone and lost his heart to Jaskier. Unlike the masses, Geralt didn’t just love the image of Jaskier and his songs. Nobody else got to watch Jaskier wake up, squinting worse than a startled mole into the sunlight while creases from the pillow lined his face. Geralt quite doubted Jaskier would have quite as many fans if they had to bear witness to not just the songs in the taverns but the grunt and whining in the forest after a slightly underdone squirrel meal. Over the years Geralt had seen Jaskier in every state of being and still loved him, no matter whether he was belching after an ale or snoring thanks to a cold.

The problem was, Geralt could watch from afar as Jaskier charmed his way through life, got invited to bed after bed, often with the offer of more than just a tumble. All those suitors, they could offer so much more than Geralt ever could. A Witcher didn’t have a lot, they have even less to spend on frivolous gifts. The scarf Geralt managed to save up for and present Jaskier as the weather turned cold was, by Geralt’s standards, extravagant. Yet it paled in comparison to the three others that were given to Jaskier over the following week, each more ornate and of softer material than the previous. It was no wonder Geralt’s measly offering got shoved to the bottom of a pack and forgotten about.

Anything Geralt offered, it was vastly surpassed in value by others. When he could offer a nicer room at an inn for the night, a suitor whisked Jaskier away to a cleaner, larger and less drafty room for the night. The food Geralt could buy was pigswill when Jaskier could dine at any court he wished because he had invitations from all over the Continent to play for the rich and elite. It wasn’t like Geralt could even offer Jaskier a horse to ride with him. Feeding two humans and a horse was strain enough on Geralt’s coin pouch already, he went hungry so Jaskier and Roach wouldn’t more frequently than he’d hoped. It didn’t matter anyway, any horse he could have offered Jaskier would have been good for nothing more than glue when compared to the carriages that came to whisk Jaskier away if he so wished.

Despite all this, Jaskier still stuck by Geralt’s side. It certainly wasn’t for all the gifts Geralt had tried to bestow on him, it wasn’t for good company because even Geralt knew he was sullen and bitter most days. The only reason Jaskier stuck around was probably for the safety of travelling with a Witcher while exploring the Continent. Geralt couldn’t begrudge him, he knew Jaskier craved the new and the exciting, was familiar with how Jaskier would pout when a contract was something as mundane as a handful of drowners. He had even begun to turn his nose up at kikimoras, preferring to stay at the inn and entertain his loyal fans than get dirty and be in danger for such boring contracts.

If all that hadn’t been enough of an unfortunate mess, Geralt’ heart had one more painful twist to choke itself with. Namely that he was failing as a Witcher. He was meant to be aloof, above frivolous things like matters of the heart. Maybe the second round of trials were wearing off, weakening him. Geralt had no idea what was happening to him. Working through his inner turmoil and allowing himself to gift Jaskier things had been difficult enough. Now, he was left holding the tatters of his heart and trying to figure out whether it was terminal.

So caught up in his worries, Geralt didn’t notice at first that Jaskier was chattering away. That was another problem. Jaskier spoke so many words but rarely actually said anything and Geralt didn’t have the time and energy to parse all of them. Thus he often found himself humming along to Jaskier’s chatter without actually paying much attention. There were more pressing issues to concentrate on, such as the surrounding area and listening out for any danger as they settled for the evening. What did draw Geralt’s attention was Jaskier huffing as he dug through his bag.

“Honestly Geralt, why do you let me carry so much crap around? I don’t even need three scarves.”

Said scarves were being pulled out of the bag and being dumped unceremoniously in the dirt by Jaskier’s feet. Rich, vibrant silks that were now covered in dust. Geralt never could understand how anyone could have such disregard for their possessions. Then again, Jaskier didn’t treat Geralt’s heart any different either, maybe he just didn’t value what he had.

“What do you keep them for then?” They could sell them or burn them and they would be more useful than when they lugged them around, bursting their bags with frivolous gifts.

“We might need them.” Jaskier frowned at Geralt as though he’d heard the worst suggestion on earth. “I’m certainly not tearing up my doublets to bandage your wounds with.”

Not that Geralt ever expected him to. “I don’t need or want you to.”

“I know.” There was a hint of sadness to Jaskier’s words. “You don’t want anyone or need anyone. I know.”

Which was an absolute lie but Geralt couldn’t refute it. A Witcher didn’t have wants or needs. They had the Path, their swords and their purpose, and that ought to be enough. They shouldn’t be mooning over a bard who could have anyone and anything. They most definitely shouldn’t be trying to impress them. Maybe there was a ballad in it that Jaskier would never realise: the Witcher who gave his all and still wasn’t enough. Usually, those Witchers ended up dead.

A soft huff from Jaskier drew Geralt out of his introspection. His friends was staring into the bag with a small, almost bitter smile twisting his lips. Whatever he had in the bag, he was running his thumb over it.

“I imagine it’s nice, not wanting anyone. It gives life a certain simplicity surely.”

“I guess.” The lie burned Geralt’s throat.

“Makes me wish sometimes that I could have some of your stoicness, some of the stones of the fortress around your heart.”

So someone had caught Jaskier’s fancy. It was only a matter of time, Geralt knew. Their time together was limited, dictated by Jaskier’s whims and desires. Geralt had done all he could to entice Jaskier to stay but, like always it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

“We can go back and find them. It’s not too late.” If the lies had burned, saying those words was agony. Geralt didn’t want to let Jaskier go, didn’t want to deliver him on a platter to someone else. But Witchers didn’t want anyone, Geralt didn’t need Jaskier. That wasn’t a luxury he could afford, both literally and metaphorically.

“It’s okay Geralt, they don’t want me. I know that for sure.”

How anyone wouldn’t want Jaskier was beyond Geralt. He cleared his throat, wanting to comfort but that was a skill he never developed. When Roach was upset, he pressed against her side, so with great simplicity, Geralt shifted to sit close to Jaskier, shoulders together. It meant he also caught a glimpse of the item in the bag that had Jaskier all misty eyed.

A cheap scarf. A very familiar one at that. Geralt could distinctly remember buying it and shoving it at Jaskier’s chest in a market when it was cold. It was never worn after that first day and Geralt had known he’d failed at giving a gift once more. Now, it was in the bottom of their bag, being caressed by a sad Jaskier while other, fancier scarves were still on the ground.

“It’s silly, I know,” Jaskier whispered. “But I couldn’t bring myself to wear it for fear of damaging or losing it.”

“It doesn’t match any of your outfits.”

“I don’t care.” Jaskier turned to Geralt, pulling the scarf out. Keeping eye contact, he linked his fingers with Geralt’s and wrapped the scarf around their joined hands in a mockery of handfasting. “You gave it to me. That makes it important.”

Speechless, Geralt frowned, trying to make sense of it all. He didn’t have to because Jaskier’s eyes were flicking down to his lips as they leaned in closer together. As their lips brushed, Geralt had a thought. Maybe, just maybe, he had been enough all along.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher secret santa #get together #love confessions

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keldabika · 3 years ago

Note

Hey yo! :D For the requests: how about a vld post-canon fanfic in which the reader helps Lance to move on, while still remembering Allura with respect and fond memories, which ends up in a sweet love confession? :3 If you need more details, please don’t hesitate to ask. Thanks, and have a good day!

[Lance McClain] “Under The Sun”

———————————————————————

“It’s been quite awhile now, I wonder when Lance is coming home?”

You pondered without so much as a doubt that he’d be back eventually, but you were a bit worried about your long-time best friend. It was late into the summer evening now, and the gradient dark blue was only just beginning to peek over the horizon. He was out late far more often now, though you supposed it was because Allura’s death had hit him hard, but you were in disbelief in seeing the usually peppy and flirtatious boy so…. depressed. It was heartbreaking to witness.

Staring out the farmhouse window, you watched the tall grass sway in the fields beyond and the slight breeze ruffle through the distant image of an apple orchard. The sun was nearly set by now, and soon the stars would be clear in the sky—a constant reminder of the paladins journey across the galaxy.

Knowing that there was so much life out there beyond the Earth you knew, you could barely comprehend just how significantly small your life was in comparison. You hadn’t travelled with the paladins or engaged in conversation with Allura beyond briefings during the Galran invasion, but you understood that the universe they witnessed was oh-so-incredibly vast and endless.

And now you felt oh-so-incredibly lonely in it. You weren’t close with many of the other paladins, besides Hunk and Pidge of course. Shiro had his new husband, Coran was too iffy for your tastes, and Keith…. well he was always off and away. With Altea restored to its rightful glory, commerce and politics between itself and Earth were bustling and swell, never better, and many of the paladins, including Lance from time-to-time, were busy making deals and new friends.

And you felt left out and abandoned because of that. It wasn’t fair that you hadn’t been accepted into the space academy, only because there was a limit to the number of accepted students, and it wasn’t fair Lance left without a single word to you, on some grand adventure for years on end without so much as a word, and it wasn’t fair that you were helpless in all things besides cooking or cleaning or feeding the animals out in the barn, or giving Lance a hug when he needed one, or looking after his siblings while his parents were gone or just—being there. It just wasn’t fair that they’d all experienced so much of life, and you hadn’t done anything in the meantime. Your meagre living was nothing in comparison to their heroism and praise. You felt selfish for thinking this way, so you never voiced your concerns to anybody, especially Lance.

“I wonder what he’d think of me, thinking this way,” you looked out unto the glimmer of stars appearing beyond the clouds, “he’d look at me and think ‘Life is never fair, you should deal with it.’ What a joke.”

You suppose you were satisfied for now with just being able to be near Lance, as a friend and support for when he needed you most, even if he didn’t know it.

“Oh Allura,” stepping outside, your eyes had an even clearer view of the skyline, and the sunset appearing within your vision, and you could almost feel the expanse of the universe looking down upon you, Allura among the vast amount of stars blazing within it, “tell me what I should do to help him. Tell me how I should be there for him, in the same way you were and in ways otherwise. How can I make him happy now you’re gone?”

Of course, you would never receive an answer beyond a pregnant silence, and the echo of your own voice over the hills and through the house where the children were asleep. You kept your eyes on the stars, hoping they’d give you some form of sign, an astrological message that could guide you, a vision of some kind, but there was only emptiness, the soft yet visible twinkle of each individual sun, burning lightyears away.

Sigh. You really should’ve expected this you suppose.

“Speaking to the sky, I’m selfish and an idiot!”

You gripped your [H/c] hair and yanked it downwards, chanting ‘idiot’ over and over again, like a mantra or a prayer, hoping it would relieve some of your many frustrations, until you heard a small sound from a hay bale around the side of the house, near an old trough used to store feed.

“Hello? Anybody there?”

Silence was all that answered at first, but then a small series of whimpers came from the area. You grabbed a pitchfork and slowly made your way over to the bale, creeping closer and bringing the pitchfork up to your chest, ready to strike.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

A terrified Lance dunked himself into the trough, getting his backside stuck before tipping it over and having it land on top of him while attempting to crawl away.

“Dios mío [Y/n], you scared me!” Lance stood up and dusted off his jacket and pants, rubbing at his eyes and making an awful attempt at hiding his face away from your sight.

“Well I’m sorry, oh merciful Lord Lance, but you being secretive and not answering me when I asked has a lot to do with that.”

He looked away from you for a further moment before responding.

“Well, I uh…. just wanted to be alone for a minute y’know? All my siblings and family n’ stuff, kind of makes my back stiff and mind numb from time-to-time.”

You watched solemnly as he tried to laugh it off, sitting back down on the edge of the trough, head leaning in his hands and staring off into the distance, obviously bothered by something. You were curious, but you didn’t have any right to pry if he didn’t want to tell you first. You’d respect his wishes if he really did just want to be alone.

“Well, alright then,” you smiled softly at him, forcing yourself off your knees and turning around to head back inside, “if you want to talk, I’ll be back inside. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

You began to walk away, adamant on getting back upstairs to the comfort of your bed and laying awake all night, when you felt a small weight on the back of your shirt. Lance’s hand had managed to grasp the fabric while you were walking away, and though you turned around to ask him why, he had barely moved from his position on the trough, only gazing at you with unshed tears in his eyes.

“Can you stay for a moment,” he pleaded, “please? It’ll only take a minute [Y/n], I swear.”

‘Allura give me strength’ you thought, letting out an exasperated sigh and seating yourself beside him on the ledge, barely glancing at him again, preferring to turn your sights to the horizon once more. You knew it’d be another nightly session of listening to his fears and sorrows, meanwhile drowning in your own self-doubt and anxieties. This also meant that tomorrow you’d wake up questioning your worth again, comparing yourself to the woman you’d come to respect and admire, and a woman who was now gone off to the afterlife, long before you.

“Tell me what’s up Lance. What’s eating away at you this time tonight, huh? Lemme guess, is it your girlfriend again?”

You watched as Lance fiddled with a piece of straw, rolling it back and forth between his palms, keeping his gaze on the sunset ahead.

“No,” he muttered, “more of an apology really.”

You nearly did a spit take, staring at him like he was a chicken with two heads. You never thought you’d be hearing an apology from the Casanova himself, let alone one aimed at you. Usually he was too cocky to have second thoughts.

“Sheesh Lance, what’s gotten into you? Did your mom finally drill some manners into that peabrain of yours?”

You jokingly put him in a headlock and started ruffling his hair, Lance desperately trying to remove your arm so he could fix his ruined part.

“[Y/n] c’mon! I styled my hair hours ago, I nearly kept it perfect for the whole day!”

He began running his fingers through his hair to put it back in place. Concentrating on perfecting it once more.

“Oh Lance, what kind of farmer like you needs styling gel? It gets greasy in a couple minutes anyways so why even bother.”

“It’s the thought that counts [Y/n]!”

You snorted as he huffed at you, the two of you quipping at each other reminded you of the days before he left off to the academy. Then you remembered,

“Oh right, the apology. Glad to see you learned some common courtesy, but what’s this all about Lance?”

You really needed answers. He suddenly went quiet and seemed to contemplate something for a moment. He worried you, and he knew it too, that you were expecting an explanation for an apology he probably wasn’t ready to give.

“Well you see [Y/n],” he stared directly at you, “I know that I’ve been down recently, and that you’ve always been…. there, I guess, for me when I needed you to be. And I know that I’ve never even thanked you or given you something in return, and that by using you as a way to escape my own problems, I’ve given you some of your own,”

He stopped for a moment to see if you were still paying attention, and seeing you looking at him with encouragement, he continued,

“I’m so sorry, [Y/n]. Really, I am. I was being dumb like always and pouring out my feelings onto someone who had difficulties of their own to deal with, and I never really thought about how I was hurting you…. I’m sorry. When Allura was here, and I was back out in space, battling alien hordes and saving the galaxy…. I felt like everything was right in the world, and that I was living my best life, being beside all the people I cared about, with friends I could trust. I didn’t realize until later that I completely forgot about you in the process, the best friend I left behind, who mattered maybe even more to me than I thought. I never meant to forget you, and I never meant to hurt you.”

He began to get nervous, losing the cocky persona he developed over the years completely, turning downtrodden and forcing out a final “I hope you can forgive me.”

Then he went quiet.

“….I never hated you, y’know,” you began, finally responding, “I never once despised you for leaving without me. I knew you’d come back someday, when I heard a lion took off from the desert that day, I just didn’t know when.”

You kept going, “If anything, I hated myself sometimes, for being selfish and wanting you to come back sooner, or blaming you in my mind for not taking me with you. It always felt unfair to me, that I was stuck here in a constant cycle of boring life, while you were out patrolling the universe, fighting Galra and going on cool missions-”

“-and nearly dying, like, 50 times!” Lance interrupted.

“….and nearly dying 50 times, yes.”

The sun was nearly gone now, disappearing quickly before you, clocking the time you’d been outside conversing in the summer heat—the pale moon climbing the sky behind you.

The stars shone ever-brighter, and the breeze had settled down, the grass at your feet stamped in and no longer swaying, and the crickets in the field were chirping, with the cows grazing in the meadow below, almost ready to head in for the night.

“I’m jealous Lance. And frustrated. But I never spoke a word of anything to you, because I loved you too much to bother you with any more problems than you already had. Nothings your fault, I was only emotional, and I have no disrespect for any of your friends or partners, including Allura. I only wish that you could’ve been happier.”

Ending your rant, you faced Lance again and shrugged, acting nonchalant, like nothing you said mattered at the moment. But he knew that whatever he said next would make a large impact on you.

“You loved me?”

You relaxed a little, “Still do Lance, never stopped even after you left. But, you came back with a space alien girlfriend, I knew I had to let you go.”

Allura was the light of his life, and he was the happiest you’d ever seen him in the weeks before her death. If she hadn’t needed to make a sacrifice, they would’ve probably grown old and had a life together, a family too, and he would have become the Altean King, with you far out of the picture. The little markings on the ridge of his cheekbones still detailed just how loving of a relationship the two were in. Even after her passing, you wouldn’t make a move when Lance only thought of you as a friend.

Both yourself and Lance were gazing at the sky now, completely silent, and yet there was an underlying comfort in the stillness, one which permeated through the air around you and invited a conversation to be had. Lance seemed to wish to speak in order to break it, scratching at the markings whilst trying to find the words to talk to you.

“Oh quiznak, words are too hard!”

Lance reaches across the trough to grasp the hand you’re using to stable yourself on the ledge, bringing it up to the space between the two of you and wearing the most serious expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

“When I was in third grade, I ran into a small child in the hallway and accidentally spilled their thermos of soup all over the floor. That tiny [H/c] kid became my desk-mate for all of third and fourth grade, and I remember having to give them my baloney sandwich because they wouldn’t stop crying till I did. In fifth grade, that same kid switched our lunchboxes because I had the better pizza pops, and in sixth grade, while taking a math test, they threw up all over the floor and I laughed like crazy; ended up going with them to the office because the teacher ‘didn’t like my attitude’. In seventh grade, I went to their birthday party and popped all the balloons, I stole half the cake and made off with three goodie bags before anyone could catch me. In eighth grade we became friends, and played pranks together on the other students during April fools, tipped an outhouse, and did each others homework because we both sucked at school. When I was in ninth grade, I gave them a Burger King crown and told them they ruled my world…. I know you know who I’m talking about.”

You began laughing the hardest you had in years, looking back on all the memories you and Lance had built up over the years, times when neither of you knew what would happen, and had big dreams and hopes for the future. The future had turned out to be far different from what both of you had expected.

“To be fair Lance, you were the one who threw up during that math test, not me. You cried for your mom all the way through the school and passed out on a couch in the lobby.”

“Shut up [Y/n], I’m attempting to be sentimental!”

When the laughter died down, and the world was quiet again, you gazed down at the entwined hands that rested between you two, and lazily swung them back and forth to see if he’d let go. When he didn’t, you smiled a bit,

“So what, this means your willing to try? To move on from Allura just like that? Forget everything you had with her and stick with me for awhile?”

He smiled brightly at you, as bright as the sun that could barely be seen, the final slivers fading away over the prairie.

“Allura’s not entirely gone,” he taps his markings, “these babies are a constant reminder of that. I’ll never forget the happiness she gave me, but I don’t want to keep dwelling on the fact that she’s gone. You’re here with me, more than anything, and I hope that we could stay this way for as long as we can.”

“I’d like that.”

It’s far too late to keep outside you realize, and the night brings with it a chilling cold that practically freezes your clothes to your skin, and tinges the air with frost. The fall season is coming, and summer is nearly over, and with it comes the colourful leaves, and the frosted grass, and the wilting flowers. You stand up, dragging Lance with you, and dust off the seat of your pants, preparing to head inside to bed.

Now the darkness has settled, the sun is gone. You take your hands and guide Lance around the house to the doorway. The door creaks open and shuts behind the two of you, and as you say your goodnights, you head off to your room. And as the glow of the moon enters through your window, enshrouding the walls in a pale light, you lay there and ponder.

Truly, you hope that you can spend many more days with Lance down in the fields, and with the cows and the tall grass, and out in the apple orchard, where the two of you will lie, down in the top soil, under the sun.

———————————————————————

BONUS:

“[Y/n], know that you’ll always be my Burger Queen.”

“Lance please. Shut the fu*k up.”

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

#lance mcclain #voltron #vld #vld lance #vld fandom #vld allura #vld x reader #voltron x reader #lance x allura #lance x reader #reader insert #x reader #writing

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hs-devote · 4 years ago

Text

i. láthi: the myth

Moodboard * Content * Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

i. the myth

“Fuck me.”

He collapses when he reaches his climax, along with the lady underneath him who's jolting when the pleasure hit them together. Their touched chest panting together, with sweats covering their naked body, confirming whatever activities they're having.

“That was good.”

He chuckles, “Absolutely.”

The man rolls from her, throwing his sculptured body next to the lady. He smiles when he feels the soft fingertips of her caressing his toned chest. He hums, lifting his head to land a kiss on her forehead.

“You're going today?” she mutters, “Why should you?”

“Selene,” he sighs, “Our people couldn't find her and they were too dumb. I can't wait any longer if I know I have more power to find her.”

“Fine then. But, don't take too long. I'll miss my husband so much.” the woman named Selene leans in to kiss her husband neck, “Our bed will missing you too, Harry.”

The man with the name Harry just laughs, twirling her blonde strand around his finger, “No need to worry, darling.”

Selene giggles sweetly as her husband cradles her face and brings their lips to moulded together..

. . . .

Harry feels weird.

It's not his first time being on Earth, but this will be the first time staying longer in the world of human and other creatures. Sure, the Earth is so beautiful but no one can against the beauty of Centauri. Centauri is where he lives, with his darling wife, Selene. Not only lives, but he is also the ruler of the realm, the lord of Centauri and all therein. He is the God of Centauri, and Selene is his Goddess.

The two of them have been married for a couple of years, long before the throne fell on him. Unfortunately, they haven't been given a child which is essential to keep their lineage. Selene is infertile, and that's why Harry has to go down to earth. To find the Goddess of Birth, who has been missing for hundreds years. He wants to ask her help for his wife.

And here he is, in Syracuse. Where everyone believes that the Goddess is somewhere in Italy, and Syracuse is the best prediction because the town was a witnessed the triumph of Centauri. Centauri is the realm that lies between the stars and moon, and cannot simply be searched for – can be found for the rightful creatures. The realm is unbelievable beautiful, a heaven-like, everything is so pure and sacred.

"Why human wears such odd clothes?" he hums, eyes darting from his foot to his chest. He feels weird and a little bit uncomfortable to wearing normal human clothes, everything they wear is so different from what he and his people wear back in Centauri. He used to wear silk, cervelt, or even satin. And when he's on earth, he has to adjust.

"This place is so plain." he averts his gaze around his temporary residence. He rents a cottage near the beach, for him easily return to Centauri at any time. The building is typically Italian country house, with stones wall and wooden door and windows. The things he likes about his temporary residential, it gives him more privacy than he asked. It's not in a remote area yet has traditional features combined with comfort and practicality. Even so, something is missing for him.

Flowers.

Back on his castle, flowers are always in every corner of the room and he's used to it. Flowers symbolize beauty and admiration, reminds him of his darling Selene.

Selene.

It's just a few hours after his arrival but he misses her already. But, in Centauri, it's only been a split second. Yes, the cycle of time in his realm is much longer than on earth. And because he isn't a human, especially a God, his aging is taking a really long time. If he's twenty-eight in human age, in fact, he's hundreds years old in Centauri time. But of course, his looks and physical like exactly a man on his mid-twenties. He's gifted with a beautiful face, perfectly sculptured body, voice as sweet as honey yet deep and firm.

Thinking of the flowers, Harry decides to step out of the cottage and roaming around the town to find a florist. He frowns as his eyes catch an Alfa Romeo Spider in his porch, looking at the vintage car with so much wonder. Even though he lives in a different realm, but he understands how the human worlds work and how human lives in general. That's why he got the car for his mobility.

But this time, he prefers to go on foot.

His green eyes full of wonder and curious, looking at his surrounding where humans doing their activities. But, the view this town got is more exciting to him. He admits how beautiful Syracuse is, even the town is small and the population isn't large. He thinks about inviting Selene to come here one day.

Then, his eyes catching a flower shop not too far from where he's standing right now. The shop looks pretty with so many flowers on their display, and it's the only flower shop near the beach – he guesses. He doesn't think twice and brings his foot closer to the shop. Feeling grateful that he doesn't need to walk far.

The shop is fairly small yet its collection of flowers is quite various. Before he goes inside, he looks at the flowers in the basket. The flowers are quite different with ones in his castle, but they're still pretty. Harry is too awestruck with them to make him unaware of the presence of someone beside him.

“Posso aiutarla, signore?”

He snapped his neck fast, eyes grow wider when looking at the young girl standing next to him. The girl offers him a friendly smile with a bouquet of roses in her arms. For a split moment, he's staring too long at her and makes the girl frowns. Shifting awkwardly, the girl asks him once again.

“Can I help you, sir?”

She speaks English with him, thinking he's not Italian and just a foreign tourist. But Harry just smiles, and pointing out her flowers, “Sono belli.”

“Si,” the girl nodded in agreement, “Grazie.”

"Err, I don't understand Italian that much." he scratches his neck nervously, "But, can I get a bouquet of each sunflower, daisies, and lilies?"

“Sure. Do you want to choose them for yourself or let me choose them?” she smiles, “But, I assure you they're all good.”

He nodded, “I trust you, thank you.”

“Fine. Coming right up.”

"Thanks." His eyes following the girl who just saunters into the shop. Shortly after, the girl comes out wearing gloves with scissors in her pocket. Her hands delicately pick out each flower and put them into the nearby basket.

“Is this the only flower shop in here?” Harry throws a question, eyes looking sharply at her – watching every move she makes.

“You could say that.” she shrugs, “Well, there's one but quite far from here. Not in the beach area, though.”

“Ah, I see.” he nods, “Do you know good places to visit? This is my first time and I don't know where the worth to visit.”

It's obvious Harry doesn't just stay for only a week or so, he needs more than that to find the missing Goddess. And he thinks visiting a place or two won't hurt. He loves to explore places, and it will help him to widen his search area.

Does he know where to find the Goddess?

No, he doesn't.

But, he can feel her if she's close. Also, the Gods and Goddesses have a special hidden mark on them to identify them as the extraordinary creatures.

"Is this your first time in Italy?" she looks at him with her doe eyes, "We have so many beautiful places to visit." then, she continues to pick the flowers.

“First time in Syracuse. But, I've been to Modena and Florence.” he doesn't lie. He went to Modena and Florence a few years ago, but it was just a quick visit. Really quick visit that only a day trip.

“Well, how much days do you have?” she questions him.

“Actually, I'm here for work so... I have much time, I think." he bites his lips, "Does it take many days?"

“No..” she laughs, putting the flowers into the bouquet and tied them up with black ribbon, “If you have a plenty of time, I suggest you visit several places in Sicily, not only Syracuse.”

“Thank you.” he says when the girl handed him his flowers, “But, I think this town is rich with Greek and Roman history. So, it will be more fun.”

"Oh, you're into a history?" she widens her eyes in surprise. Because not many people like a history that much. And finding a handsome man loves historical places, it tickles her a little.

"You could say that." he grinned, then stretches out his hand, "We haven't introduced ourself yet. My name's Harry."

The girl giggles and shakes his hand softly, “Hi, Harry. I'm Y/N.”

Her hand is soft like cotton and makes him wonder what treatment she did have to keep them so delicate. Even Selene's hands are not as soft as her hands. His smile fades a bit when Y/N takes her hand from him, and intertwining her hands together instead. He doesn't know why a disappointment swept over his heart when he lost touch with her. It feels like her hands convey a sense of safety to his soul. He drowns in his reverie too long, until he realises she's looking at him with an arched eyebrow. He blinks his eyes, shaking his head shamefully.

“I'm sorry. How much are these?” he says, looking at the bouquets in his arms like they are his babies.

“That would be €100.”

Harry then dig his pockets, taking out the money and hands her the cash. He politely thanks her before walking back to his cottage.

On the way home, he keeps thinking about the girl. Y/N. He doesn't deny that she's beautiful, charming, and she has something that he feels different. He assumes she's so much younger than him – than his God age and human age of course, and wondering how old is she. Then, he remembers Selene. Selene's human age is the same with him, but sometimes she acts like a few years younger and childish. He wonders if Y/N acts like that too.

He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. How could he compare his wife to another woman?

. . . . Flowers are quite essentials for him. And that's why he always buys them every day. For several weeks he's been here, he buys flowers from different shops and of course compares the qualities of each. Short story, he bought a few bouquets from a shop far from his cottage. He liked their flowers, but he didn't like the woman who sold them. She always flirted with him when he tried to pick the flowers, and openly asked him out.

Harry aware very well how attractive he is. And the way his wife keeps telling him how hot he is always being his constant reminder. He remembers when he was single, hadn't taken the throne yet, the ladies on Centauri always thrown themselves on him. Stared at him like he was their delicious prey, like he was the heaven that everyone always dreamt of. He knew they always had his name spoken between their conversation.

He was very cocky and proud of that – at that time. But, when he married Selene, all of them didn't diminish. The hunger stare, their giggly comments about him – it bothered him and Selene very much. However, the time when he took over the throne, those ladies zipped their mouth close. Very aware that they shouldn't talk inappropriately of their ruler.

But, the thing that bothers him more is those who talked about Selene. About her wife being infertile and hasn't produced an heir. Harry knows it annoys Selene more, and that's what brought him down to earth. For one mission.

How is his search been?

Absolutely nothing.

He still couldn't find the Goddess until now. He has arrived at the right place, but it's hard to find one person among the hundreds of thousands of people here. However, he must not give up. He tries to find a clue by going to historical places of the Gods and Goddesses. Time travelling to a few decades back to find any closure. But, it just gives him small pieces of the story.

Thinking about that saturated him a bit. He decides to go out and buying new flowers for his cottage since his last flowers were already withered. Climbing on his car, Harry started the engine and drive away. It only takes ten minutes drive for him to arrive at a certain flower shop. He smiles looking at the open signage hanging on the wooden posts but the girl he wants to see is nowhere to be found. He kills the engine, getting out of the car, and walking to his destination.

His smiles grow wider when his eyes catching the girl who just comes out from inside, holding a toddler in her arms. Is that her kid?

“Hello,” Harry greets her, looking at both the girl and the toddler.

“Oh. Hi, Harry.” Y/N smiles, adjusting the quiet little girl on her hips with both her hand wrapped around the small body, “Looking for some flowers?”

“Yes.” he breathes, “It's peonies and gardenias this time.”

“Good choices. They're still fresh because they just came a few minutes ago.” she nods, “Just a moment, I should take Lola inside.”

“Sure.”

Y/N gives him apologetic smile before going inside. It doesn't take a minute for her to comes out with gloves hand and no the toddler clinging onto her.

“Was that your child?” Harry asks curiously, watching Y/N picks out the peonies and putting them to the basket, “She's beautiful.”

"Unfortunately, no." she answers, "Lola is my friend's daughter. She asked me to babysit her this morning since she had to be out of the town until night. I thought my job is easy enough so I agreed and brought her here. Luckily my co-worker inside didn't mind at all."

“And yes. She's beautiful and such a happy baby. She's just three years old after all.” she adds, “Didn't bother me that much.”

Harry doesn't say a word, he just keeps looking at Y/N who's now putting the flowers together. He thanks her when she gives him the bouquets, then hands her the money.

“I've visited some places, most of them were historical.” he starts, “But, do you know any similar place? I mean, I'm interested with Greek and Roman myths. So, if anything like that I'll be happier.”

"Have you visited the town hall?" she asks back, "They have a lot of historical information about it, and one of them is the myth about Centauri."

Hearing his realm being mentioned makes him stiffened, but he has to play cool. Harry doesn't know if the people now know about Centauri since it had happened centuries ago and it's almost certain that no human has become living witnesses, only Centauri people who still have that memory to this day. Everyone thinks that the legacy of Centauri's victory was from another life.

“Centauri? What's that?”

"I think it's quite similar to Greek and Roman myths. But, everyone believes that Centauri's myth is greater than the Greek and Roman. Rumours say that the legacy of Greek and Roman, were actually Centauri's. Greek and Roman couldn't touch Sicily because it was overpowered by Centauri."

Harry scrunches his nose, “Only Sicily?”

"I guess? Because the rest of Italy was under Greek and Roman's power." she shrugs, "Well, I don't know much since I'm not Italian. But, that's what I heard from my granny."

“Oh, you're not Italian?” he asks in surprise, he doesn't think Y/N isn't Italian because her Italian accent that time was quite impressive. But, if he studies her carefully, he knows she's not.

“I'm English. I moved here since I was eight with my granny.” she chuckles, “That was after the passed of my parents.”

She's an orphan, and only live with her grandmother – he guesses. He feels bad to ask him that question if it would lead to a sad thing.

"I'm sorry about that." he gives her sympathetic smile, "I don't know–"

She waves her hand, "It's okay, Harry. You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you, right?"

“So, you're living with your grandmother? Only two of you?” “Correct.”

“How old are you if you don't mind?”

“I just turned twenty-one last month.”

See, she's much younger than Harry thought. He then nods, “Happy birthday, then.”

"It's late. But, thank you, Harry."

In all of sudden, Y/N co-worker came out from inside with the sobbing toddler on her hips. The toddler's face is wet with tears and pouting mouth.

“Piange perché le manca sua madre." her co-worker informs her and hands her the wailing baby. Y/N thanks her and begin to wipes the wet stains off the baby's face while cooing sweet words, trying to soothe the little girl.

“Va tutto bene, Lola. Andiamo a casa, va bene?” she whispers in Lola's, the little girl, ear. Her palms stroking Lola's back while bouncing her body. For a moment, she forgets Harry who looks at her in awe. Watching the precious scene unfolded before his eyes. He loves how gentle Y/N to the baby and thinking she will be such a great parent someday.

“Lo so, caro. Lo so. Ti manca moltissimo tua madre, sì?” she cooes, “La mamma tornerà stasera. Non preoccuparti. Vuoi giocare a casa mia?”

Harry watching carefully the way Y/N treats the little girl, the sweet gesture and fondness making him thinks about his future when he has children of his own. Thinking how beautiful and complete his life would be with the presence of a child whom not only he is the who craved, but everyone else. A child who would later replace him on the throne.

His lips forming small smile when Lola nods in Y/N's neck, refusing to show her face. She seems unwilling to let go since her tight fists wrapping around Y/N's neck.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I think I'll call it a day and go home. I don't want the customers to be bothered if Lola keeps crying.” Y/N says softly, her hands still stroking Lola's hair.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks hopefully, wanting Y/N to take his offer. He just curious about the little girl and fascinated about the bond between them. He knows she is close with the child, proven by Lola who agreed with her suggestion.

“Oh, don't worry, Harry. I can walk back to my house.”

“Why?” Harry is surprised by what he had just said, sounding so pushy. He hurriedly corrected before it was too late, “I mean, it will be a little inconvenient walking while carrying her. I parked my car not far from here. At least if I give you a ride, you will arrive sooner.”

“Uhm...”

"C'mon." he assures her when she looks a bit reluctant, "Besides, you haven't told me other worth visiting places in Sicily.

“Fine,” her agreement makes him smirks, “Let me take my bag first.”

He nods, letting Y/N take her time to grab her things. It doesn't take too long to her joins him in the front of the shop. She smiles, giving an okay to them to go. On the short walk to his car, Harry stealing glances at the lady next to him. Y/N tries to talk to Lola for the child to not feeling sad anymore. He doesn't realise that he has been smiling at the two of them.

He stops at his car, putting the flowers on the back seat before unlocking the passenger door for her. Y/N climbs into the car and thanking him for closing the door for her. She adjusts Lola in her lap while Harry joins her in the driver seat.

“Nice car, anyway.” she comments as the engine starting to roar.

“Thank you,” he replies while turning the steering wheel, letting the car down the street. Both of them didn't utter a word for the past minutes. If Harry busy behind the wheel, Y/N seems to be enjoying the ride by feeling the afternoon breeze sweeping her hair.

“Looks like you enjoying the ride.” he says softly, looking at her briefly before looking back at the road.

"Mhm, it feels nice to ride along this beautiful coastal with a convertible car." she nods, her head turns to see the beach not so far from here. Then, her head flicks to see him, "Do you know the direction to my home? I only gave you the name street."

"There's a technology called Google Maps," he jokes, "And luckily, I know how to used them."

Y/N laughs loudly, making him laugh too. Somehow her laughter is infectious, and he swears it was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. Yet, both of them hurriedly closes their mouth when Lola shushed them. The way Lola pouts her lips makes him gushes, thinking how cute she is.

“Mi dispiace, Lola. Non intendo ignorarti.” Y/N giggles, twirling her dark curls. The little girl just huffs, before cackling loudly because Y/N peppering kisses all over her face.

That makes Harry's heart flutter, seeing how precious a child is and the affection between them. For a moment, he looks at them like they're his family. A feeling of happiness filled his heart just thinking about it. But, he shakes the thought away. He has his wife back at home and will have a child someday.

“So, Y/N.” he coughs, “You just said to me earlier the town hall is a worth visiting place to know the history of Sicily. Where is it?”

“It's near Catacombe di San Giovanni actually, just five minutes walking distance from there.” she responses, “That's a nice place. Unfortunately, not many people come to visit.”

“Y/N, posso avere il gelato?” Lola whispers to Y/N. She just pinches her chubby cheeks, “Quando torniamo a casa, va bene?”

“Perchè non ora?”

“Perché non possiamo fermarci. non vogliamo disturbare Harry, vero?”

Lola slumps her shoulder before nodding softly, leaned back on Y/N chest while playing with her skirt. Harry who's behind the wheel, knows the girl is upset and he couldn't see an upset child. All he does now is, turn the wheel to stop by the ice cream parlor he'd seen before.

“Posso fermarmi un momento. che sapore vuoi?” he questions Lola who just staring at him with her big hazel eyes. She gives him toothy grins, nodding her head quickly makes him worry that it will fall off from how fast she nods.

“Posso avere due misurini di fragola e cioccolato?”

“Lola..” Y/N warns the toddler in her lap. But, Harry quickly shakes it off, “It's okay, Y/N. Just think of me treat you as a sign of our friendship.”

“Remind me to treat you back someday, Harry.” she sighs in defeat, then looking at the smiling child on her lap, “At least she will be better after this.”

. . . . It becomes Harry's habit to buy flowers at Y/N's shop. If usually he would buy them once a week, now he buys them almost every three days. Not only did he keep them fresh, but there was also feeling that would stick in his heart of he didn't see her. And he doesn't know why.

“Harry! Stai cercando Y/N?” Mia, Y/N’s co-worker greets him. She was sorting the withered flowers in front of the shop when Harry came. Harry feels his cheek heated; he nervously scratches his neck.

“Sì. Ma voglio anche comprare nuovi fiori.” he let out a nervous sigh, “Lei è qui?”

“Compra nastri per un po'. Aspetta solo un momento.”

“Grazie, Mia.”

Not long after, Harry feels a light tap on his shoulder. He smiles finding Y/N standing in front of him with the groceries in her hands.

"Hi, Harry." she grins, "Coming to buy another flower?"

He nods, “I will have three bouquets of baby breath and two bouquets of carnations this time.”

“Sure, wait a minute. I have to put this stuff inside.” She smiles, showing her shopping bags before storming inside. A few minutes later, she comes out with her gloves and scissors, obviously.

“I’m curious. Why do you often buy flowers?” she hums, “Are those for someone special?”

“No,” he answers honestly, “I just happen to like flowers, very much. They’re just pretty and I’m used to having a garden to plant them. Then, when I moved here and I don’t have a garden, flowers in a vase aren’t bad.”

“You’re just a romantic guy, aren’t you?” she teases him while tying the flowers.

“What makes you think like that?” he chuckles.

"Because…" she hangs her word, "It's rare to find a guy who happens to like flowers."

“Then, I’m such a rare guy then.” he wiggles his eyebrow, smiling a bit makes his dimples pop out. For a moment, Y/N thinks it’s cute. Moreover, the way she just finds out that Harry has bunny teeth, it’s just adding his cuteness.

“Cocky much you are.” she laughs, shaking his head. Then, handing him his bouquets, “There you are.”

"Thanks," he whispers then give her the money, "Actually. I came here also to ask for your help."

“Mhm, what is it?”

“About the Town Hall thing. Do you think you can accompany me to go there?” he nervously asks her, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“When?”

“The sooner the better.”

“All right. I think I can leave now so we can go there faster.”

Harry widens his eyes, doesn’t think Y/N will agree and ask to go right now. To be honest, if Y/N refused him, it would be fine. He just wants to know what the people think about Centauri myth. Since Y/N is a local, she might know a little bit about it and maybe, maybe be able to help him.

“Is that OK? I mean, you’re at work and I don’t want to disturb you.” he asks with concern, “We can leave after you finish your work, though.”

“It’s okay, H. I’m not really working today and just stopped by the shop.” she bites her lips, “Besides, if I can help my friend sooner, why not?”

His heart flutters in awe after hearing that. He doesn't think Y/N considered him as a friend, a friend that happens because of the constant of buying flower. Plus, the way Y/N calls him by a nickname makes his heart stirs.

“Let me return the gloves and scissor and then we can go together.” she winks, then excusing herself before meeting him again. Harry leads the way to where his car was parked, not too far from the shop. He politely opens the passenger door for her, then putting the flowers in the back seat.

“Do I need to tell you the direction or.. you will use the Google Maps thing?” she teases.

He frowns a bit, “Google Maps is okay. But, you can tell me the right direction if the Maps goes wrong.”

“Okay then.” she hums, averting her gaze to the road in front of them. Looking at the beautiful Sicilian scenery. Sometimes, she glances at Harry who seems so focused behind the wheel. Little does she know, Harry is very aware that the girl next to him stealing glances at him. But he chooses to ignore it. Deep down in his heart, he knows she may be attracted to him yet the woman doesn’t want to show that.

“Here we are.” Y/N breaks the silence when they arrive at Town Hall, “You can park in the back of the building.”

Harry just nods, and park the car not far from the entrance. Before getting out of the car, they're quite surprised at the number of visitors that day – much more than usual, according to Y/N. Then, both of them close the door simultaneously and admiring the architecture. The building looks more like a cathedral, thick with gothic nuances and looks majestic. Y/N guides Harry inside and begins to stroll around inside. Of course, Harry goes straight to where the diorama of the Centauri myth is. His eyes catching a few illustrations that he admitted the truth while the people consider them a myth only.

The illustrations are where the Gods and Goddesses came to Sicily, built a civilization, and leaving it as dust when humans crossed their lines.

He doesn't realise he was staring at it for too long and deeply felt it while Y/N stands beside him.

“Harry.” she softly tugs his jacket sleeve, making him jolts and snaps his head to her. Looking at frowning Y/N.

“Uh, yes Y/N?” he scratches his nose, “I’m sorry I was daydreaming.”

“You look very carried away with the illustration.” she looks at him full of wonder, “You really like history, huh?”

“Actually, I think they missed one thing.” he deadpans, “Have you ever heard the myth of a missing Goddess?”

“What?” she blinks, frowning deeply.

“The missing Goddess of Birth. The myth said that the Goddess left Centauri and is believed to be in disguise among the Italians.” he exhaled, “I’ve heard if that myth but it looks they don’t have the illustration.”

“Well, after all it was just a myth, Harry. Some people believed it, and some didn’t.”

“But, do you believe it?” he challenges her, “The Centauri and myth?”

“I don’t know,” she jogs her shoulder, “But, if it was real, Centauri must be beautiful. The real, the people, everything… they’re believed to be between the moon and the stars.”

“If that was true,” he trails off, “Would you like to see Centauri?”

“Maybe. If I had the chance, though.”

Harry nods, assuming that she doesn’t know about the missing Goddess. Well, he could see a little when it happened. The Goddess had indeed disappeared, and she is, in fact, in Sicily. But, where should he look? Albeit he can sense the presence of other Gods, Goddesses, or Centauri people, it still complicated for him. He doesn’t want his mission in Sicily to be wasted, and he was thinking of getting to something as soon as possible.

Then, it happens.

He senses Centauri people nearby. Who sent them? What are they doing here?

"I think we should go now, Y/N." he murmurs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "I'm done, and it was mind-blowing. Maybe I'll look for another theory somehow."

“Why do get so attached about the Centauri thing, Harry?” she asks while exiting the building, “Is that interesting?"

"Like I've told you before, I just like.. history." he brushes her off, helping her to hop on the car. He hastily starts the engine and leaving the building behind before the Centaurian finds him. He doesn't like the idea of him and Y/N get caught. They will tell his wife and he doesn't want that.

Harry doesn't hesitate to drive Y/N home while the girl refuses politely, doesn't want troublesome him. Well, she gives up after all since Harry is so adamant.

He gives her a small smile when she thanks him for the ride, and drifts away from her porch after that. It doesn't take long to arrive at his cottage, he drives pretty fast and the road was quite clear that day. Then, he is surprised by a familiar voice greets him when he opens his door. A few feet from him, someone he hasn't seen in a while standing with arms wide open.

“Selene?”

“My darling, Harry.” the lady sighs happily, jogging towards him and hugs him tightly. Harry has no idea why does Selene come to see him? Is there something wrong back in Centauri? Then, he remembers the Centaurians he sensed in the Town Hall. Was it his wife? But, he could tell right away if it was her. Did Selene send them away?

“Hi,” he breathes, pulling away from her to kiss her full lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Missing my husband so much,” Selene giggles, “I know it’s only a few days, but…”

A few days? Oh well, it's a few weeks for him. Excuse the different cycles of time between Earth and Centauri.

"Are you going to stay for a while here?" he asks even though he knows what's her answer. Selene never likes Earth and humans, she always looks down on them, thinking they're lowly creatures. Being the Goddess she is, especially as the wife of Centauri's ruler, makes her feel superior and nothing nobler than Centaurians.

“Why should I?” she rolls her eyes, “Sometimes I wonder why you volunteered to come down to Earth even I know what’s your mission. But, still…”

“Selene..” he sighs, “We have discussed this, right?”

“I know, I know.” she pouts, “Let’s just forget that. This place looks nice, anyway.”

“This is your first time complimenting human building, you know?” he teases him while stroking her soft cheeks, “But, yes. This is the nicest in all of Syracuse.”

“Where’s your bedchamber?”

“Why? Do you want to take a rest?”

“No,” she hums seductively, “I just miss you terribly,” then she tiptoed, bringing her mouth to his ear, “And it aching me down there.”

Oh...

Harry unconsciously bites his lip when Selene sucks his skin below the ear, and he is sure it will leave a mark from how hard she sucks them. Not need to think twice, he scopes her body and brings them towards his bedroom. He hasn't had sex since his arrival in Syracuse and it makes him giddy. After all, he also missed his wife even that feeling was sometimes replaced by the presence of Y/N in his new life here.

unedited.

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