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buckybabesonly · 1 year

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Come Home

Summary: Bucky interrupts your date on Valentine’s Day, asking you to take him back.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!reader, slight Oliver Queen (Green Arrow - hello DC!) x Female!reader

Genre: Slight angst, slight fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Thought I’d write a little Valentine’s Day one shot in the spirit of 💕 feat. Oliver Queen (I had a slight obsession with him and the actor who played him in Smallville, Justin Hartley back in the day - enjoy this little gif below)

You raised the cocktail glass in your hand, the smile on your face not quite reaching your eyes as you knocked your glass against Oliver’s with a clink. You had no idea what you had ordered, but it was a mysterious shade of pink and gave you the buzz you needed to convince yourself this was a good idea.

This was only your fifth date with the man, but you had agreed to spend the universal day of love with him when he had asked. Just a dinner and drinks - nothing could go wrong, and maybe you’d finally start to replace the bitter taste in your mouth left by your previous relationship.

“Cheers,” he hummed, his eyes surveying you. Oliver Queen was handsome, intelligent, insanely rich, and you’d been set up by Tony a few months ago. However, you were starting to suspect that he wasn’t just a billionaire playboy as he portrayed himself, much like Tony, which was both a good thing and a bad thing. You’d had enough of dating superheroes for the time being.

Your reply was stopped in its tracks when a waiter settled another drink down next to you, your eyebrows quirking in confusion.

“Oh, sorry - I didn’t order this,” you said quickly.

“This is from the gentleman at the bar,” the waiter replied, gesturing over to the other side of the restaurant.

Your eyes wandered in the direction he was pointing. The first thing you noticed were the leather-gloved fingers waving at you, then his cocky smirk.

“Shit.”

“That’s a bold move,” Oliver commented, amusement lacing through his voice. “Wait a minute - is that Bucky Barnes?”

Bucky raised his glass of whisky to his lips, downing the amber liquid all at once. You faintly registered how good he looked, his dark hair slightly tousled and his sharp jawline covered in a light stubble.

“Yes,” you said through gritted teeth, turning back to Oliver and trying to keep your scowl at bay.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him.” That asshole.

“Maybe you can introduce us. He’s coming over,” Oliver said coolly, leaning back in his seat, unfazed as he watched the approaching super soldier.

You could see him in your peripheral. His swagger, his leather jacket and dark jeans, totally out of place in this hotel restaurant with its crystal chandeliers and piano music.

You panicked internally, wondering what the hell you were going to say and, more importantly, what the hell he was doing here.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice rumbled over your head. You pasted on your phoniest smile and looked at him, head tilting back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yes. What a coincidence,” you said dryly.

Oliver stood up, extending a hand which Bucky grabbed. Hard. The wince in Oliver’s face was well disguised as they shook hands.

“Oliver Queen.”

“Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky plucked the stick of cherries out from your drink as you gaped at him in shock. He slid it between his teeth, rolling the fruit around on his tongue before chewing obnoxiously. You took a deep breath, watching Oliver’s completely neutral expression.

“Just thought I’d come over and say hi.” Bucky rested a hand on your bare shoulder, his touch ever gentle, squeezing softly. His thumb stroked your skin, making you shiver. Every movement was purposeful, deliberate.

“Well, hi,” you said pointedly, your lips pressing together firmly. “We’re kind of on a date here, so…”

“Right, right,” Bucky said, though he made no motion to leave. “So, Oliver.” The way he spoke his name was almost mocking, the syllables rolling slowly off his tongue. “What are you doing with my girl?”

At that, you pushed your chair back with a screech, ignoring the looks that came your way as you gave Oliver an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry. Give me five minutes.” You clasped Bucky’s wrist and marched away - he could have easily resisted, but he followed anyway like a scolded puppy, letting you lead the way outside of the restaurant.

Once you’d entered the hotel lobby and away from the hubbub and diners, you whirled to face him, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“What the hell are you playing at?”

Bucky’s cocky smile had disappeared, a look of disapproval combined with longing on his face.

“You can’t be serious, going on a date with him?”

“Quite frankly, whoever I date is none of your business.” You tried to keep your voice down to avoid attracting more attention, though it was hard when Bucky was testing the boundaries of your patience.

“It is my business.”

“I’m not your girl,” you said, his words echoing in your ear. Once upon a time, you would have melted at hearing Bucky make a proclamation like that, but things had changed.

Bucky shook his head, swallowing hard. “Please don’t do this.”

“Do what, Bucky?” The exasperation was clear in your voice. “We’ve been broken up for six months.”

“I miss you,” he whispered, the vulnerability suddenly clear on his face. It stopped you in your tirade. He'd always had the ability to make your anger dissipate with just a single look.

You faltered, his blue eyes gazing at you pleadingly.

“Bucky. You know why we broke up. It’s unfair of you to just turn up whilst I’m on a date and expect me to - what? Get back together with you?”

The way he looked at you now told you that was exactly what he wanted.

To some extent, that was what you wanted, too. God, you missed him. You loved him, even if you weren’t together - that would never change. But you had to be mature and remember the real issues that caused you to break up in the first place.

“This won’t work, Bucky,” you said softly. “The reason we separated is because the things we want in life just aren’t compatible. I got tired of always waiting for you to come back from missions, of you going away for months at a time, of seeing you get hurt and in danger.”

Bucky looked at you with guilt in his eyes. He could remember clearly all the arguments you’d had about how you felt he was always putting his work first. He had never wanted you to feel like a second priority, but that’s how he made you feel.

“I felt like we weren’t going anywhere. We’d been together for three years, but I couldn’t see any growth,” you said somberly. “I want marriage and a family. If that’s not what you want, then fair enough, but you can’t stop me from trying to find someone who does.”

Bucky's eyes narrowed, taking a step towards you. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he insisted, his voice rough. “I’ve told you. I want that, too.”

“Do you?” you challenged. “I don’t see that you do. You always put the team first.”

The vulnerability was clear on Bucky’s face as he exhaled shakily, his eyes darting in uncertainty now. You recognized another emotion: fear.

“I miss you,” he said finally, looking like he wanted to cry. “After you left, I thought that it was just one of those things, and we would be able to fix things. But then more and more time passed, and now it’s been half a year. I'm scared."

Your breath hitched as you saw actual tears start to well in Bucky’s eyes. You rarely saw him cry.

“I just want you to come home,” he said hoarsely. “Please?”

You felt yourself waver. You had always considered Bucky to be the love of your life - when you had broken up, you’d told yourself that he would simply just have to be the one that got away. You told yourself that sometimes, love didn’t trump all. You wanted different things in life.

Even if it felt like cutting out a piece of your heart, you had told yourself that breaking up was for the best.

“Don’t ask me that,” you whimpered, feeling your heart clench with guilt.

“I want you back. Please give me another chance,” he said earnestly.

“Our problems haven’t gone away,” you reminded him. Bucky took a step closer, his hand raising to cup the back of your head softly. You didn’t pull back, giving him a bout of hope.

“I will do anything for you. If I have to leave the team, I’ll do it. I’ll give you the life you want.”

You felt selfish, greedy after hearing his words.

“No,” you said, even as his head tilted closer so that his nose brushed against yours. “I don’t want you to give up something that means a lot to you just for me. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“I thought it meant a lot to me,” Bucky clarified. “I thought it gave me purpose. But when you left, I realized that my purpose was you. To make you happy.”

“Bucky…”

“I don’t care if I have to give up doing all that super soldier shit,” he said. “I don’t care. I want you. Nothing else matters if you’re not with me.”

Your eyes traced his face, every fine line, every crease in his forehead, inhaled his scent. You felt the tether between you tighten, and you let it pull you in.

You placed both palms against his chest, leaning in to kiss him. He gasped into your mouth like a drowning man looking for air, his tongue rolling between your lips as his fingers tightened in your hair.

It had been so long, yet neither of you had forgotten the sensation. It was as natural as breathing.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confessed as Bucky held you, both of you slightly breathless when you pulled away.

“Does this mean -”

“We can try,” you interrupted. “But we have a lot to talk about.”

Bucky nodded, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours.

“Fuck,” you cursed, remembering the man waiting for you inside the restaurant. “Oliver.”

“He’ll get over it,” Bucky said, a scowl settling on his lips. “You’re not going back in there.”

“Don’t be rude, Buck.”

“Stay here,” he ordered, placing both hands on your shoulders for emphasis before he swiveled round and walked back into the restaurant.

He approached Oliver where he was still sitting with an expectant look on his face.

“Your date’s coming home with me. Sorry.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, heaving a defeated sigh and reaching over for your unfinished drinks.

“Fine. Tell her I had a good time.”

Bucky grunted, making a beeline for the cloakroom where you were already collecting your jacket and purse. He wrapped the jacket around you, finally appraising the slinky red dress you had on, swinging your purse onto his shoulder.

"C'mon, darling," he said, his fingers threading through yours, where they'd always belonged, "let's go home."

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky fanfic

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animatorweirdo · 3 months

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Beneath the blinding lights

You are trying to tolerate the sun's heat. You also have a discussion about your curse with Maglor.

Warnings: death of orcs, some Noldor being brutal, mentions of assaults, reader getting a heatstroke, looking pale and a bit sick, mentions of cases involving people dying.

Chapter 6

-----------------------------------

You watched as the elves rode after the orcs, yelling commands in elvish and shooting arrows in the warg rider’s heads and allowing those on foot to drag the bodies into piles and burn them. Shivers nearly ran through your spine. Maglor and his kin were ruthless when it came to killing orcs. The rabid ghoul-looking creatures had no chance against them— they were running away like rats getting chased by cats.

The sight kind of reminded you of your time in Maglor’s former fortress. How violent the orcs were and how they nearly beat you to death and did it again and nearly assaulted Melui. You had no sympathy for them, so seeing them die did not bother you. Not to mention, the taste of their flesh and blood was disgusting.

You don’t usually like the taste of blood and flesh in your mouth when you return to normal, but the taste of orc was so bad you could taste it through the beast’s control and sense its disgust. It was a groundbreaking surprise because wendigos are not supposed to be picky eaters. They ate anything, and now there was something they did not like. Oh, how the news would have caused a shock in your world.

“Hey, (Name)! Could you help me pick some items from the wagons?” Faye suddenly called out for you. “Uhh… yeah, sure!” you follow her through the campsite.

You walk together while listening to the ongoing purging of orcs, “It’s getting pretty wild, eh?” you motioned toward the hunt. “Yes. It seems after every dead orc. There’s always a new batch somewhere,” Faye replied as she watched with you. “It’s troublesome. In Valinor, we never had to worry about such a thing,” she mentions. “What was it like in Valinor?” you asked curiously.

“It was… peaceful. The streets were filled with music and laughing children, followed by their parents scolding and street vendors trying to compete for the highest profit,” Faye described with a fond look. “I remember my mother bringing me to an herbal shop, and my nose was filled with many exotic scents of herbs and plants. I believe that’s where I got my passion for herbs and healing,” she smiles as you listen. “And I remember taking a handful of citrus leaves and putting them in my mouth since I was a little elfling at the time, “ she says, making you giggle at the thought since it was the most childlike thing to do.

“Did they taste good?” you asked. “Oh, I believe my mouth was crying for a whole week for how sour and bitter those leaves were,” Faye chuckled as you laughed.

She sighs. “Those were peaceful times. There were no trifles, no orcs, and the two trees stood proudly, banishing the darkness with their light,” her expression soured. “Then Morgoth was freed, and he destroyed them, our only source of light,” she started. “He stole Feanor’s greatest creations, the silmarils, that could have restored the trees and killed our high king, Finwe, Prince Maglor’s grandfather,” she mentions. You looked at her empathically.

“It all happened so fast. I wasn’t even certain what was happening,” Faye said. “I was attending a feast with my family, then the lights went out, the darkness came, our king was dead, and then we were rebelling against the valar,” she said. “It was such chaos,”

“I’ll bet. I can’t imagine what it would be like if the sun suddenly went out,” you stated.

“How did you end up leaving too?” you asked.

“Me and my family desired to go along. We were part of Fingolfin’s host and crossed the ever-cold Helcaraxe. It was a devastating journey, and unfortunately, I was the only one in my family to make it through,” Faye explained with a silent sorrowful tone.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said.

“Don’t be… the choice was ours. I accepted my family’s death a long time ago and if the valars will grant them mercy. I might see them again at someday in Valinor,” she said.

“Well, I hope you do. You never know what fate might bring, and you might see them sooner than you thought,” you tried to assure her.

“That is very sweet of you (Name), but I’m afraid it's a lot more complicated than that,” she said as you reached the wagons. “Grab some of those towels while I take the medicine. Some of the warriors got injured and need a cleanup.” Faye instructed. “Got it, boss,” you replied and grabbed many of the towels you could carry.

You two then started returning to the healer’s tents, carrying the needed stuff.

The air suddenly became hotter, and everything became blindingly bright. Your head began to spin, so you stopped and escaped beneath a shade provided by a nearby tent.

Faye did not notice your sudden stop, so she continued walking while you tried to tolerate the effects of a near heatstroke.

Your head stung painfully. You were breathing heavily. You dropped the towels and took a long drink from one of the water flasks attached to your hip.

The cool liquid flowed down your throat, easing the headache, and the dizziness stopped. You drank half of the flask, then took a breather, trying to adjust to the heat that still found you beneath the shade.

You smacked your moistened lips and mentally whined at your state.

Winter was terrible enough, but thanks to the beast. You can’t enjoy spring or summer either. It was like if you were having a good time, you were going to have bad time. You whined and cursed it out.

“Fuck you beast and everything you stand for,”

“What did it do this time?” Maglor’s voice suddenly asked.

“Ah!” you shrieked as he stood next to you. Your sudden shriek even frightened him as he stared back at you with widened eyes. You stared at each other for a moment before you released a sigh.

“Goddammit! Maglor! Careful, I could have hit you with one of these,” you motioned the towels in your hand. “With towels?” he questioned with a curious brow. “Yeah. They can hurt pretty bad if you use them right,” you said with a teasing grin. A chuckle escaped him. “I see… I’ll make sure to watch out next time so I won’t accidentally end up getting killed by towels,” he remarked with an amused smile.

“Anyway. Do you need something?” you questioned. “Nothing that requires healing. I just wanted to check on you because you— look rather pale and sick. Are you feeling unwell?” Maglor asked with concern in his eyes. “Oh? Uuuhh…Everything is fine. I’m just dealing with a heat stroke here and then,” you answered.

“A heat stroke? Is it really that hot for you?” Maglor asked, surprised.

“Yeah— the curse makes me more vulnerable to the sun’s heat, so I can get a heat stroke easily. Even if it's not really that hot. It’s a real nuisance, but I have dealt with them before, so… I’ll manage,” you explained. “Well… if you’re that vulnerable to heat then maybe you should return to Himring, where it’s much cooler. I can arrange someone to escort you back,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. You mildly panic. “No need! If I just keep myself hydrated enough. I will be fine. Trust me. It is not that serious,” you motioned your water flasks while trying to sound as assuring as possible.

“Ah…” Maglor nodded his head. “Is that why you’re carrying so many flasks?” he pointed at the rest of the flasks attached to your hip. “I… have to drink a lot to stay hydrated,” you said, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

“Do you need help carrying some of those back? You still look like you’re about to pass out,” Maglor pointed at the towels.

“Well… I do still feel kinda dizzy, so If that’s not too much trouble,” you said, nearly hesitating. Maglor softly smiled at you. “Of course not. Now, come on. Let me help you,” he picked half of the towels in his arms and began walking you back.

“So… how does this curse affect you now that you haven’t had your proper medicine for a while?” Maglor asked while you walked. “Well… since I have a temporary one which I need to take every day. There isn’t much to worry about even though it’s not nearly as effective as my last one,” you started.

“So is the wen–”

“Ah! Don’t say it!” you stopped him before he said it. “It’s bad karma if you say it’s name! I’m free to do it since I am one, but if you say it– bad things will happen,” you quickly explained.

“You see… in my world: If you say the name of the beast. You will gain its attention,” you started. “That might sound superstitious, but it does happen. A wendigo is a beast that does not give up on its prey. Even when you might be safe and far away, it will find a way to get to you,” you added.

“I heard some stories and read cases about people who had unfortunately gained the beast’s attention. They managed to escape into cities where it would not follow them, but they suffered nightmares so bad that they went insane, and in some cases, the beast had compelled them to return to the forest, where it would wait for them and then devour them,” you explained.

“Only a ritual could draw off its attention from you, and I do not remember how the ritual goes, so don’t risk it and call the beast simply a beast or some other name,” you shook your head.

“I didn’t know that… thank you for the warning,” Maglor said. “Oh, not even the most powerful vampires of my world dare to fuck around with them,” you uttered, then released a sigh when the headache returned.

“Are you alright?” Maglor asked worriedly.

“Yeah… it’s just the headache. Looks like I need to take another drink,” you said as you took a drink from your flask.

“Are you certain you will be alright?” Maglor continued asking.

“I will be fine. Camilla is very sharp about my health,” you tried to sound reassuring as possible.

“I guess I can trust in her abilities to keep you in the best state possible,” Maglor said, making you smile. “However, I am curious. Have I done something to offend her?” he asked. “I… don’t think so. Why?” you asked curiously.

“She seems rather cold toward me, more than usual, like I’ve done something to cause severe mistrust,” he explained.

“Oh… that. I think it's only the stress of finding me the new medicine and managing work life,” you replied. “And she’s always been skeptical about people, especially those who know of my curse. She’s probably still unsure if you can be trusted keeping my secret and not turn on me and use it for blackmail or something,” you said, not missing a beat.

Maglor looked surprised. “I… will give you my word that I will not do such a thing,” he said with his hand against his chest. “Your killing spree in my former fortress lessened the threat of being overrun by Morgoth’s armies, which allowed us to survive through the Sudden Flames, so I technically owe it to you,”

“I’ll trust you,” you smiled. “It’s just Camilla who needs more convincing. It’s not her fault, though. Our lives in our world were not exactly easy either,” you said as you arrived at the healer’s tents.

“I think I can handle myself from here. Don’t want to keep you away from your lordly duties,” you grabbed the towels from his hands with a teasing grin. He chuckled at your last remark. “Honestly… I do prefer this than constantly worrying about killing orcs and everything,” he said then looked serious.

“If something happens or you feel much more sick. Come to me. I will sort things out for you,”

You hesitated about what to say. “Okay… thanks,” you said with a smile. Maglor smiled back and then walked away.

You stared for a moment, feeling rather lonely. You thought about what he said. He was so incredibly sweet to you. Your heart could nearly burst through your chest. Shaking your head, you turned away and went back to work before Camilla could snap at you for being late.

#tolkien #silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silm fic #middle earth #maglor #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #maglor x reader #maglor x human reader #cursed reader #modern reader #the spring heart's bloom

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supercorpkid · 3 years

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Once Upon a Time in…

Camelot

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Emma Swan x Reader, Regina Mills x Reader, Snow White x Reader, Prince Charming x Reader, Merlin x Reader, Morgana Pendragon x Reader.

Word Count: 3100.

Previously on the series - Neverland

“So I guess we’re going to Camelot.”

You look at Henry, not knowing what that means. Wait, Camelot. Legend of the sword? It can’t be it. They can’t be talking about that, right? But you look around, you see Snow White’s soft smile at you, the ‘Evil Queen’ appearing and disappearing with nothing but a purple fog around her. They are definitely talking about king Arthur, and Lancelot and the sword buried on the ground that no one could lift it.

“I need my bow and arrow.”

“And my sword!”

“We should take more than one magic bean.” How is it possible that you’re not even surprised about magic beans anymore?

It takes around fifteen minutes for everyone to be standing in the same place close to you, ready to go to Camelot. Henry nods his affirmation at you, and you almost feel bad for making all these people use a magic bean and go to a different world, just to ask a powerful wizard how to take you home. But then again, you really need to get back home. So, you’ll accept the help.

“We’re all ready?” Emma asks and you nod in agreement. “To Camelot!”

And to Camelot you go, through a magic bean, and dear Rao you can’t wait to tell Jamie this. She is never going to believe you.

When you get to Camelot, to the castle, Merlin is nowhere to be found. King Arthur -although he is not king yet, so- sends someone for him and all you can do is wait.

“Wait, wait! They’re here! My moms! They’ve come to pick me up!” You point out the window. Watching Lena, all dressed as she belongs in this story, walking by.

“No, I believe you’re incorrect, child. That’s Morgana.” Arthur says, making you even more confused. “She might look like someone you know. But there’s nothing in her heart that shall confuse you any further.”

“What happened to her?”

“What didn’t? That would be far more of an appropriate question. But this matter shall not be discussed any further, as Merlin should be returning to assist you.”

You look around. Snow, Charming, Emma and Regina are waiting on Merlin for a solution. And you want it too. You need to go back home, but-

You look out the window again. To where you saw ‘Morgana’. She looks just like your mother. You can’t help yourself from sneaking out of the room in a flash. You think you’ve left unnoticed. You’re wrong.

“Hey, where are you going?” Henry yells at you and you finally stop. You look behind and see him running towards you. “Merlin is coming. He is your chance to go home.”

“Henry, I know what I saw, ok? That woman, she-she looks just like my mom. Don’t you think that’s a crazy coincidence?”

“She could be using magic to trick you.”

“Yeah, she could.” You agree with your head, but don’t turn back. Henry stands beside you, looking like he’ll follow you if you decide to go. “I have to.”

“Wait, before you go.” He takes an enormous book out of his backpack. “Maybe you should read her story first. See what you’re dealing with.”

“Do you just carry this monstrosity everywhere?” You ask while he places the book in your hands.

“Just read it.” He flips through some pages, and you use your super speed to read faster.

“Huh.” You put the book down, furrowing your brows. Henry has the same expression. “Her story is-is like my mom’s.”

“How come?”

“She is an illegitimate daughter of someone powerful, raised as if she wasn’t family at all. She was good.” You open the book again to show it to him. “Then she was betrayed by Merlin! Her friend. He knew she had magic and thought she would become evil, so he tried to poison her. And that is what turned her evil.”

“Oh, is your mom evil? Mine was too!”

“No. That’s the thing. My mom, she had her moments, but she redeemed herself. My mom was always supposed to fall into the light. But Morgana-”

“Is supposed to be the darkness to Merlin’s light.” Henry finishes reading the sentence back to you.

“Don’t you get it? She wasn’t evil. She doesn’t have to be evil. If we can save her then-”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe deep. “I don’t know, but maybe that’s the reason why we’re here. Because heroes need to save. And Morgana needs saving.”

“Maybe we should call the rest of the family.” Henry says looking to where his mothers are.

“There’s no time. There she goes.” You watch Morgana going inside the woods. “MORGANA!”

“It’s High Priestess to you.” She turns around and you look at her. You really look at her. There’s no kindness in her face. “What do you want?”

“I wanna help you.” You give one step forwards, shielding Henry with your body.

Morgana looks at you, she really looks at you, like she can see deep inside your soul. It’s so hard seeing her, as she looks just like Lena. And you wonder if Lena could have fallen into this dark path too. Why does one have to fall into the light, and the other into the darkness? What if things weren’t as black and white?

“This isn’t you. You were good. Kind-hearted. They’ve turned you into this, but you can fight it.”

“I don’t want to fight it. I want to embrace it.” Morgana gives you an evil grin. “I want power, I want to rule Camelot. Being good will take me nowhere.”

“You will never rule Camelot being evil.” Henry chimes in. “Haven’t you heard? Good always wins, so you will never take over Camelot like this.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong, kid. What do the good guys get in the end? A happy little family? Settling for dumb hopeful kids?” She scoffs and you know she is talking about you and Henry. Dumb hopeful kids. Ouch. “That’s not in my cards. I want something far greater, but you wouldn’t understand.”

You look back to Henry, exchanging a hopeless look. “Arthur was right. There’s nothing in your heart to confuse me.”

“Arthur being right? That would be a first.” She looks at Henry behind you, gives you a mischievous smile. “You don’t have to protect your brother. He doesn’t look powerful at all. You, on the other hand…”

“He is not my brother.”

“And I guess he won’t ever be, if you make the right choice.” She quirks one eyebrow at you looking amused. Your mind screams Lena. Your heart says otherwise. “You mistake me for someone else. I do not know why the person holds your heart like that, but I assure you, if you stand with me, you won’t need anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because I can give you power. Beyond the one you have.” Morgana motions to the castle. “This entire kingdom shall be mine. Soon. It could be ours, if you wish.”

“Don’t do it.” Henry whispers behind you. You give one step forward, instead.

“I don’t want a kingdom. I want to go home.” You say, earning a smirk as a response.

“Great. I wouldn’t want to share, anyhow. Why don’t we make a deal? You help me take back what’s mine by right, and I’ll send you to wherever you want.”

“Another reality?”

“Don’t do it!” Henry speaks a little louder. Morgana’s eyes turn bright yellow, and she moves her hand, throwing Henry backwards, with nothing but that.

“Believe in me now?”

“Yes.”

“NO! DON’T DO IT!” You hear Henry’s yelps getting louder as you move closer to Morgana.

“Does he ever shut up?” She asks, eyes turning yellow again.

“Get away from her, Morgana!” You hear from your side and see a guy raising his sword at her. “She’s just a kid and has nothing to do with your desire for revenge.”

“Merlin.” She points out, nonchalantly. And you blink your eyes feeling yourself coming down from a weird dream. When you look behind yourself you see Snow with her bow and arrow ready to shoot. Charming is pointing a sword at her too. Regina’s hands are on fire. Emma also has white magic coming out of her hands. “I see you brought a cavalry. You always need it when you’re up against me.”

“Get away from the kids!” Emma yells from behind you.

“Too bad.” Morgana looks at you, ignoring everyone else. “I would’ve guessed you wanted to go home. Merlin cannot do that for you. You’ll be STUCK with them.”

Her words send shivers down your spine. And you cave, feeling like you should follow her because she is your only hope. You give one step forward again.

“Get away from her! You’re not the only evil witch in here.” Regina says, earning a sigh from Morgana.

“I see the decision was made for you.” She says while she leaves, as quickly as she appeared.

“Are you ok?” Snow runs to you, while Emma and Regina help Henry up. She touches your face looking for any bruises.

“She didn’t hurt me.” But your eyes are full of tears, and Snow can’t believe you’re not hurt.

“Come on.” She throws her arms around your shoulders and guides you back to the castle. “Merlin’s here now. He’ll help you.”

But she was wrong. Merlin can’t help you. So Morgana was right.

“Another protection spell around the city, you say?” Merlin seems to be considering the information. “I’m sorry to inform you that there are no shortcuts, and you must break this curse as you’ve broken the last one.”

“But we don’t know who started the curse this time.” Regina says.

“Then you must start there. But quickly. As long as she is in Storybrooke inside a curse, she’ll become part of the book. And then, she won’t be able to leave again.” Merlin has not even finished talking and you’re already crying. Storybrooke is nice but you can’t be stuck there. You have to go back home. “I apologize if my help wasn’t what you required.”

“It’s ok.” You sigh. Heart even heavier on your chest now. “I’m used to losing.”

“I have victories and I’ve losses-” Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder. “And I’ve learned that it’s the losses that require us to be brave.”

Sure, it makes sense. You know it’s true, you know you have to be brave. But his words don’t fix the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your stomach. You’re still a kid, stuck in a foreign city, with fairytale characters as friends. If the pain didn’t feel so real, you would’ve thought you were dreaming.

“Thanks.” You point to the door. “I’ll wait outside while you guys figure out how we’re leaving.”

You walk outside. Looking around to see if anyone is following you. It seems that this time Henry didn’t follow you, so you’re safe. You don’t want to help Morgana take over Camelot, especially not because she’s doing it for revenge. But she was right, Merlin can’t take you home. Maybe she is your only option. Maybe you have to do the dubious call so you can get back home to your moms, aunts, cousin, girlfriend-

One step forward.

Kara would never tell you to do the wrong thing, no matter how long it would take for her to see you again.

One step back.

But would she be right? Would it be fair for you to wait to get home and maybe never get back, because you couldn’t do what’s morally wrong even if it was for you to see them again? Maybe Lena would have told you to help Morgana. So you could get home to them and be safe and sound.

One step forward.

But then again, would she have wanted for you to fall into the wrong path because of them? Would she have liked to have that guilt hanging over her head?

One step back.

“You’re still here.” You hear Emma’s voice, and you look back at her. “I was sure you would be out in the woods looking for that woman.”

“So you stepped out to stop me?”

“You know she can’t be trusted, don’t you?” She ignores your question. You agree with your head. “But you’re still considering following her.”

“She might be my only hope to see my family again.” You bite your lower lip, holding your tears. “Henry told me a little about your story. Back when you were a kid, all alone in that universe. If someone could have brought you to your family, wouldn’t you have followed them?”

“I think I would.”

“Then you understand why I’m considering doing it.”

“Trust me, kid. I know what it’s like when others tell you what you can and can’t do, especially when you’re a kid. But ultimately, whatever you’re considering doing or giving up, the choice is yours.” Emma says and you shake your head, confused and lost. You weren’t expecting her to say that. You thought she would stop you immediately. It feels heavy, having a choice. “I know you have no reason to believe us, but we’re not going to stop until we can find a way to your home.”

“You won’t?” You ask, a lonely tear streaming down your face. Emma shows you her hand.

“We won’t.”

And so you take her hand. Leaving Morgana, and maybe your chance of getting home, behind you.

“Hey, are you two ok? We’re ready to leave.” Regina says and Emma looks at you, waiting for your response.

“Hmm, yeah. Sure. Let’s go back to Storybrooke.”

And you all come back. And everyone finds their way into what it seems to be the only diner in town, sharing a table like a big, happy family. And it doesn’t matter how welcome they are making you feel, your heart still aches, and you can’t be around them without being sad and without missing your own family.

So, you step outside, and sit alone on a bench watching leaves flying in the wind. Thinking about what Kara must be looking at right now; wondering if Lena has left her lab in days to see that it is Autumn already; asking yourself how long they will keep looking without success, because as long as there is a curse cloaking this city, they won’t find you.

“Hey.” You watch Snow White coming closer to you, she points at the space next to you. “Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

She sits next to you. “What has come over you?”

“Just thinking that I probably left my only chance of going back home behind.” You sigh, heavily.

“You might have.” Snow agrees with her head, and you look at her waiting for more, because this is not comforting at all. “But it was the right thing to do, and you know that too. Because heroes do what's right. Not what's easy.” You agree with your head, because you’ve heard that before. “You know, every time I look at you I see a very strong hero.”

“Thought you were going to say that you saw yourself when you were younger.” You smile, and she chuckles, denying.

“Oh no. When I was younger, I would’ve followed Morgana into the forest because it was easier. It would’ve been a mistake, because there are other paths – harder paths, and later I would’ve wished to have taken them instead. So, I don’t see me in you. I see someone far greater. But I guess you are a Superhero, huh?”

“Just-” You stop yourself. It’s insane that you’re about to open up to a fairytale princess. But she is here, she looks interested and most of all, she looks like she cares. “I’m not really a hero anymore. Being a hero is exhausting, Snow. We fight every day, and we get beat up, and we get scared. And what for?”

“For the ones who can’t fight for themselves.”

“So because I was born with these powers, I’m supposed to fight for everyone? I’m not supposed to choose what’s right and better for me? What if I want to be selfish?”

“Kid, I know you’re tired of what life has thrown at you.” Snow holds your hand, and you agree with your head, unable to get your words out. “But you still fight for the good every single day. Every time you have hope, and faith, and care, you’re fighting against darkness whether you mean to or not. You did that today with Morgana.”

“But I failed.”

“No, you didn’t fail. She did. Her darkness was too strong. But your light is still intact.” Snow cups your face gently, like a grandmother would. “Sooner or later you will find your way back into saving. Because being a hero is not what you do, but rather who you are.”

“But what if that is not who I want to be?” You ask, eyes filled with tears and fear.

“Oh, honey, but it is.” She gives you a soft smile that says it all. “The choices you make every day it’s what makes you who you are. If Henry was lost in-” She narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

“National City.”

“If he was out there all alone, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to bring him back home?” Snow asks, but she seems to know the answer already, before you even nod at her. “See, being selfish could have made your life a lot easier. But would you be able to live with yourself while doing that?”

“No.” You cry, thinking about your life. “I would probably feel sick, and empty, and-and I don’t think I would make it out of bed.”

Huh. Did you just have a therapy session with princess Snow White?

“See? You can try and run from it, but if it’s who you are then it will always catch up to you. Trust me, I’m familiar with heroes, and you are, for sure, one of us.”

“Indefinitely.” You think about not making home, being stuck in Storybrooke until someone finally lifts the curse. You don’t know how long that will be. You hope your moms don’t give up on finding you.

“For as long as you’ll have us.” Snow throws her arms around you, and you let yourself fall into her comfort.

Being away from your life will suck. But thank Rao, they are the ones you’re stuck with.

Notes:

Am I making a crossover with Supergirl, OUAT and Merlin? Yes, yes I am. And I have to thank @oncemoonie for the prompts. That was really fun

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #ouat #once upon a time #emma swan #regina mills #swanqueen #snow white #morgana pendragon #merlin

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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This started out as a request for a bookcomb of Finnick acting like Peeta and Katniss’ big brother and instead became a two part post of Finnick and Katniss being chaotic best friends 😂😂🤣🤣🤣. This is just their Catching Fire moments. I’ll post the Mockingjay version soon.

Finnick has reached Peeta now and is towing him back, one arm across his chest while the other propels them through the water with easy strokes. Peeta rides along without resisting. I don’t know what Finnick said or did that convinced him to put his life in his hands — showed him the bangle, maybe. Or just the sight of me waiting might have been enough. When they reach the sand, I help haul Peeta up onto dry land.

He’s got Peeta’s nose blocked off but his mouth tilted open, and he’s blowing air into his lungs. I can see this, I can actually see Peeta’s chest rising and falling. Then Finnick unzips the top of Peeta’s jumpsuit and begins to pump the spot over his heart with the heels of his hands. Now that I’ve gotten through my shock, I understand what he’s trying to do.

[…] Whatever he’s doing, he’s done it before. There’s a very set rhythm and method. And I find the arrow tip sinking to the ground as I lean in to watch, desperately, for some sign of success. Agonizing minutes drag past as my hopes diminish. Around the time that I’m deciding it’s too late, that Peeta’s dead, moved on, unreachable forever, he gives a small cough and Finnick sits back.

Finnick, who bounded off initially, stops when he realizes we’re having problems. But this is not a thing you can fight, only evade. He shouts encouragement, trying to move us along, and the sound of his voice acts as a guide, though little more.

I feel him lurch forward and realize Finnick has come back for us and is hauling Peeta along. I wedge my shoulder, which still seems under my control, under Peeta’s arm and do my best to keep up with Finnick’s rapid pace. We put about ten yards between us and the fog when Finnick stops.

“It’s no good. I’ll have to carry him. Can you take Mags?” he asks me.

I have moved out a bit farther into the shallows, floating alternately on my belly and back. If the seawater healed Peeta and me, it seems to be transforming Finnick altogether. He begins to move slowly, just testing his limbs, and gradually begins to swim. But it’s not like me swimming, the rhythmic strokes, the even pace. It’s like watching some strange sea animal coming back to life. He dives and surfaces, spraying water out of his mouth, rolls over and over in some bizarre corkscrew motion that makes me dizzy even to watch. And then, when he’s been underwater so long I feel certain he’s drowned, his head pops up right next to me and I start.

“Don’t do that,” I say.

“What? Come up or stay under?” he says.

“Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave,” I say.

I glance over at Peeta, at Finnick, and see they’re both scratching at their damaged faces. Yes, even Finnick’s beauty has been marred by this night.

“Don’t scratch,” I say, wanting badly to scratch myself. But I know it’s the advice my mother would give. “You’ll only bring infection.”

My stomach begins to growl at the smell of food and I reach for one. The sight of my fingernails, caked with blood, stops me. I’ve been scratching my skin raw in my sleep.

“You know, if you scratch you’ll bring on infection,” says Finnick.

I plunk down on the sand next to Finnick and screw the lid off the tube. […] A sound of pleasure slips out of my mouth as the stuff eradicates my itching. It also stains my scabby skin a ghastly gray-green. As I start on the second leg I toss the tube to Finnick, who eyes me doubtfully.

“It’s like you’re decomposing,” says Finnick. But I guess the itching wins out, because after a minute Finnick begins to treat his own skin, too. Really, the combination of the scabs and the ointment looks hideous. I can’t help enjoying his distress.

“Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven’t looked pretty?” I say.

“It must be. The sensation’s completely new. How have you managed it all these years?” he asks.

“Just avoid mirrors. You’ll forget about it,” I say.

“Not if I keep looking at you,” he says.

We slather ourselves down, even taking turns rubbing the ointment into each other’s backs where the undershirts don’t protect our skin. “I’m going to wake Peeta,” I say.

“No, wait,” says Finnick. “Let’s do it together. Put our faces right in front of his.”

Well, there’s so little opportunity for fun left in my life, I agree. We position ourselves on either side of Peeta, lean over until our faces are inches from his nose, and give him a shake. “Peeta. Peeta, wake up,” I say in a soft, singsong voice.

His eyelids flutter open and then he jumps like we’ve stabbed him. “Aa!”

Finnick and I fall back in the sand, laughing our heads off. Every time we try to stop, we look at Peeta’s attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it sets us off again. By the time we pull ourselves together, I’m thinking that maybe Finnick Odair is all right. At least not as vain or self-important as I’d thought.

Finnick catches my arm before I can run. “No. It’s not him.” He starts pulling me downhill, toward the beach. “We’re getting out of here!” But Gale’s voice is so full of pain I can’t help struggling to reach it. “It’s not him, Katniss! It’s a mutt!” Finnick shouts at me. “Come on!” He moves me along, half dragging, half carrying me, until I can process what he said.

It’s the first crack of the lightning storm — the bolt hitting the tree at midnight — that brings us to our senses. It rouses Finnick as well. He sits up with a sharp cry. I see his fingers digging into the sand as he reassures himself that whatever nightmare he inhabited wasn’t real.

“I can’t sleep anymore,” he says. “One of you should rest.” Only then does he seem to notice our expressions, the way we’re wrapped around each other. “Or both of you. I can watch alone.”

I turn and wave to Finnick. “Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!”

The three of us scour all the scabs from our bodies, helping with the others’ backs, and come out the same pink as the sky. We apply another round of medicine because the skin seems too delicate for the sunlight, but it doesn’t look half as bad on smooth skin and will be good camouflage in the jungle.

Peeta’s just pried open an oyster when I hear him give a laugh. “Hey, look at this!” He holds up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls,” he says earnestly to Finnick.

“No, it doesn’t,” says Finnick dismissively.

I duck behind a curtain of vines, concealing myself just in time. Finnick flies by me, his skin shadowy with medicine, leaping through the undergrowth like a deer. He soon reaches the site of my attack, must see the blood. “Johanna! Katniss!” he calls.

Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do, especially if the target is unprepared. I lunge across the table and rake mine down Haymitch’s face, causing blood to flow and damage to one eye. Then we are both screaming terrible, terrible things at each other, and Finnick is trying to drag me out, and I know it’s all Haymitch can do not to rip me apart.

“Katniss. Katniss, I’m sorry.” Finnick’s voice comes from the bed next to me and slips into my consciousness. Perhaps because we’re in the same kind of pain. “I wanted to go back for him and Johanna, but I couldn’t move.”

#thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #catching fire #finnick odair #bookcomb ♥️🔎#sorry long post y’all

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mochegato · 3 years

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Hope on Board

Chapter 1 - Boy’s Night Out

“Okay,” Dick boomed, bringing the room’s attention to himself. “Weapons on the counter.” He raised an eyebrow at the disgruntled objections around the room. “We are going out to have fun. We are not going to take guns or knives or arrows to the bar. This is a night off. This night is to relax and blow off steam. Boy’s night out.”

“Having a gun does relax me!” Jason mumbled around the bite of apple in his mouth.

“Naw, it’s the shooting that relaxes you,” Roy pointed out shoving his head away as he walked past him.

“No guns!” Dick grabbed the gun out of Jason’s thigh holster as he passed by and tossed it onto the counter.

“Hey!” Jason yelled, grabbing Dick’s shirt and violently pulling him back to face Jason. “Don’t touch my guns.”

Dick held his hands up in surrender and waited quietly for Jason to let go. Once Jason had backed off and taken another bite of his apple, Dick shook his head. “See that there, is exactly why we need a night out and no weapons. I expect all weapons on this counter before we walk out that door.” He stared Jason and Roy down.

“Why are we going to a club if we just want to talk?” Tim pointed out with a defeated sigh. “Loud music, people bumping into you, lights flashing… not the ideal atmosphere for talking.”

“We’re also blowing off steam and a distraction while we talk so Jason doesn’t get bored and start fighting is not a bad idea,” Dick pointed out. “Which brings us back to no weapons.”

Jason huffed and walked over to the counter keeping eye contact with Dick as he started removing his knife and his backup knife and his small knife and his backup gun and laid them on the counter one at a time. “Thank you, Jason. Roy?”

Roy sighed and removed his knife and a gun. Dick raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “What? I’m not a paranoid asshole like him.” He motioned to Jason.

“Tim?” Dick questioned with a stern look.

“Like I carry weapons on me when I’m not in the suit,” he scoffed.

Dick stared him down waiting for him to admit having weapons. When Tim didn’t fold under his stare, Dick nodded and looked back to the group. “Fine.” He reached behind him to pull off his tee shirt, throwing it over the back of the couch and grabbing a button up shirt instead.

Tim stared at the shirt he put on as he buttoned it. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah… what? I like it.”

Jason opened his mouth to comment but instead glared at Roy when he smacked him upside the head to stop him from saying what they all were thinking. "If Wally were here, you'd let him say it," he muttered.

"Well, Wally's sick isn't he? So he's not here." Roy muttered back.

Dick looked between them and finally gave up waiting. He shook his head and moved to the door. “Let’s go. We’re going to hang out, drink, dance, and have fun.”

“And get laid,” Roy cheered.

“Not about getting laid,” Dick singsonged as he walked through the door.

“But we’re totally going to,” Roy whispered to Jason. “Well, we,” he motioned between himself and Jason, “are going to. Tim’s boy is out of town and Dick’s on his own with that shirt.”

“Whatever, I just can’t believe he thought those were my only weapons,” Jason scoffed.

“Or that I didn’t have any,” Tim agreed. “Either we’re getting better or he’s getting worse.”

<><><><><>

The bar was more crowded than they expected, but they had still been able to find a table far away from the dancefloor where they could actually talk and watch the other patrons while they drank.

“Dick, we need another round,” Roy pointed out, motioning toward the bar.

“And?” Dick scoffed not even looking at him, keeping his eyes on the dancefloor instead.

“And we want the drinks now not in an hour,” Jason retorted quickly.

“We all know if any of us go it’s completely hit and miss when the bartender acknowledges us and with the bar as busy as it is, it could take a while. But every time you go up, he makes a beeline straight for you.” Tim continued flatly.

“Heh, straight,” Roy chuckled.

Dick rolled his eyes but got up anyway. “Fine. I’ll just buy all night long.”

“Now that’s what I call a good night out,” Jason cheered, holding his beer up toasting Dick. “Get me two.”

Dick pushed through the crowd and finally settled into a spot leaning against the bar. As soon as he appeared, the bartender made his way over to him, bypassing patrons who had been waiting since before he got there. Dick sighed at the proof the others were right. He ordered their drinks with a smile. No use upsetting the man pouring their drinks and controlling whether they got served or not.

He looked up and down the bar while he waited for their drinks. His eyes caught on a woman a few people down from him. She was waiting patiently and gorgeously for her drink. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high bun, but tendrils had fallen around her face from vigorous dancing. Her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat and her long-sleeved, bright blue crop top looked like it was meant to flutter lightly over her top but instead it clung to her sweat-covered body as she moved, occasionally giving a flash of the black bra underneath. She was flushed from dancing giving her a luminescent look. But the thing that truly drew his attention was her smile. She had the most gorgeous, welcoming, exuberant smile on her face. It lit up her whole face, causing her eyes to crinkle.

He started to push away from the bar to talk to her when he saw a man drape his arms over her shoulders. His head was positioned so the back of his head was blocking Dick’s view of her face so he couldn’t see if her expression was happy about the intrusion or upset, and his yellow and red shirt that hung loosely off him blocked Dick's view of her body language. Dick leaned back against the bar, but kept an eye on her in case the embrace was not welcome. How bad was it that he kind of hoped it wasn’t? However, it quickly became apparent that it was not unwelcome. “Come on Bugaboo, let’s get back out there. I want to have fun tonight. Maybe find someone to finally make out with me.”

The woman rolled her eyes at him. “Adrien, almost anyone here would make out with you. Straight men would make out with you if you asked.” She and the man nodded to the bartender in thanks when he dropped off their shots.

“It can’t just be anyone though. I’m looking for a sign. I’m waiting for the universe to show me my future.” He stretched out his hand in front of him as if showing off his future.

“In a nightclub that is probably a front for one of the mob families,” she deadpanned. He shrugged at her. “I cannot stress enough how much that’s not how this whole thing works. The universe isn’t going to give you a sign, especially not in a dive bar while you’re drunk. You make your own destiny, my child, this isn’t Serendipity. Now, drink,” she commanded.

Dick watched as they clinked their glasses together and downed the shots before returning to the dancefloor. His eyes followed her as she started dancing. He hummed to himself, clearly together but not together. Their boy’s night had been going on long enough, hadn’t it? They had been talking long enough that it would be acceptable for him to get on the dancefloor himself soon, right? He hummed to himself. He might have to try to find her later. He tore his eyes away when the bartender brought his drinks. He winked at the bartender in thanks and returned to their table.

He brought the drinks back to the table, joking and reminiscing with the three of them. The point was to get closer to each other, after all. All throughout their conversation, he kept an eye on the bar for the woman he had seen earlier. The next time she went up to get a drink, Dick excused himself to get one as well. They were close enough. He wanted to get closer to someone else now. The others at the table raised their eyebrows, giving each other knowing looks.

By the time he made his way through the crowd to get near the bar, the woman was facing off against a man who was easily twice her size and mostly muscle. “Hey, asshole! Back off!”

“Excuse me? What the fuck business is it of yours?” he growled, crowding her personal space in an effort to intimidate her.

The woman clearly didn’t get the message, furrowing her brows in an angry glare. “Grabbing someone’s ass and attempting to grab other areas as well without their permission is sexual assault, fucker! She clearly does not know you and does not want you touching her.”

“You have no proof of anything,” he snarled at her. “Now sit that pretty, tight, little ass down and maybe I’ll let you kneel in front of me a little later.”

The woman’s mouth dropped as she stared at the man. “Yep, that’s the expression you’ll be making later.” He reached to pat her on her ass. Dick lunged to grab his hand before he could reach her, but he was just a beat too slow. Instead, the woman grabbed the man’s hand and twisted along with his momentum, pushing him down as she twisted. She moved her feet slightly to trip him, throwing him even further off balance. She twisted his arm at an uncomfortable angle as he fell, forcing him to turn over on his stomach so she could pin him to the floor once he finally landed. “Also, sexual assault? Illegal, asshole. Doing it to more people, surprisingly, doesn’t make it less illegal.”

“It isn’t sexual assault if you want it,” he jeered at her.

She scoffed at him, making sure to keep the pressure on her hold as she did. “I doubt there has ever been anything living or otherwise that has wanted you looking at them let alone touching them.” Dick chuckled at her response.

“Excuse me, what is going on here?” A man Dick recognized as the bouncer asked. He was eying the woman who was pinning the man down with heavy suspicion.

“That man sexually assaulted that woman and when this woman pointed it out he tried to sexually assault her as well,” Dick answered for her.

The bouncer looked between the first woman, the second woman, the man on the floor, and Dick. He finally nodded and grabbed the man by his jacket collar. “Come on mother fucker, we’re going to get your picture then you are never coming in here again, understood?”

“Do you know who I am? You’re making a monumental mistake,” the man screamed as he was getting dragged away.

The black haired woman didn’t bother watching the man as he was hauled away. She shifted her focus entirely onto the blonde woman who had been assaulted. “Hey, are you okay? Can I get you a drink to steady your nerves?”

The blonde shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m okay. It happens. You go to a club, it’s going to happen.”

The black haired woman and Dick both gaped at her. “It shouldn’t happen ever. If anyone ever does anything like that to you again, kick their asses or call someone over to do it for you. He had no right to touch you. Going out to have fun doesn’t make you an open target,” Dick interceded. “Assholes like that should feel unsafe in clubs not you.”

The blonde shrugged at him. “Thanks for your help anyway. Can I buy you a drink?”

The black haired woman shook her head and gave her a gentle smile. “No, thank you. I just refreshed mine. Have fun, yeah?” The blonde nodded and waved before returning to the dancefloor.

The black haired woman collapsed onto a barstool with a sigh. She chuckled and shook her head as she looked at her drink. “Thank you by the way. I don’t know if the bouncer would have trusted just my word.”

“Not a problem.” He took a seat next to her. “I’m glad I could do something to help. I tried to grab him before he could get to you but I wasn’t as fast as you. You were really impressive.”

She shot him a glance from the corner of her eye but didn’t really stop to look at him. The charming smile he shot her faltered when she didn’t look close enough to actually see it. His liquor fueled mind frowned at the lack of attention. “Thanks,” she mumbled. She drank the rest of her drink in one gulp, which Dick thought was quite impressive considering it was full and not a shot.

She laid the glass on the counter harder than it seemed like she meant to and continued to stare at it for a few moments. “Hey,” he leaned a little closer to her while still giving her space. “You okay? You want another drink?” He motioned to the bartender for two more drinks for them.

She rubbed her face and took a beat before turning to finally face him with a thankful smile. “You really don’t have to.”

Dick’s charming smile made it back to his lips, even wider than it had been before. “No, but you deserve it for protecting the club.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t…” She looked down at his shirt and balked, staring at it suspiciously. After a few moments, she looked up toward the sky with an annoyed scowl that still looked adorable, like an irritated kitten. “Am I a joke to you?” she called out.

His charming smile morphed into a look of confusion. “I’m sorry?”

She waved her arms like she was waving away the concern. “It’s nothing. Interesting shirt. Fan of ladybugs?”

He looked down at his shirt as though seeing it for the first time, “Oh… uh… I just liked the pattern. I don’t think I would have even recognized them as a ladybug if you hadn’t explicitly pointed it out.” The woman looked back up toward the sky with a menacing look he didn’t quite understand. He thanked the bartender when he served their drinks and turned back to her. “Do you… uh… like ladybugs?”

The woman gave a defeated sigh and looked down to her shoes. When she looked back up, a resigned but amused smile was on her lips. “No, it’s just… my friends used to call me their everyday ladybug.”

Dick cocked his head to the side studying her curiously. There was something going on, but he couldn’t quite make it out yet. But there was no way he was going to miss an opportunity to dance with a beautiful, strong, sweet woman. “I’m Dick.” He stuck his hand out to shake hers.

She took his hand and gave him a bright smile, “Marinette.”

He looked over to the dancefloor and back to her. “Do you want to dance?” Her smile brightened, making his heartbeat pick up. She pulled on the hand she was still holding and guided him onto the dancefloor, drinks still in hand.

Chapter 2

@dickinette-february

#maribat #dickinette #Dickinette February #Hope on Board #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Knocked Up AU #prompt - dance

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notnctu · 4 years

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cupid’s arrow - h.rj | 7 days

━ sweet greetings from the 7 days fluff series

genre ❥ slight angst, fluff !! details ❥ college!au, friends to lovers!au, genderneutral!reader ━ where renjun makes a bet to get you to fall in love with him. warnings ❥ explicit language, light banter word count ❥ 7.1k synopsis ❥ The silly boy has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when he makes a bet with his arrogant friend to get you to fall in love with him. Renjun never intends to confess, mainly because his past unrequited loves have demolished his confidence. So a low stakes gamble causes him a great deal of stress and pride, wishing that it was as easy as striking you with Cupid’s Arrow. While he wants your feelings to develop organically, he actually doesn’t know what he’d do if you did end up liking him back. Because to him, you have always been someone unattainable and out of his reach taglist ❥ @yourmagnanimousholiness ; @lovelycharm05 ; @watermelonxes ; @jaehyunsjasmine ; @mjlkau <3

a/n ❥ this is author doie ❀!! uhh this came out a little more angsty than i had planned it to be.. anyways its been a long time coming and we’re still working on the requests hehehe uhh keep an eye out for some blog updates bc we are starting school soon :) thanks for sticking with us so far! lots of love for everyone<3

Huang Renjun catches a glimpse of your enchanting figure across the lecture hall and how you effortlessly slide into your usual seat near the front. The tap against the tiny turnout table with your pen, ruffling your hair to only have it fall back in place beautifully, and aura alone suffocates him.

In a three hundred person lecture, all he sees is you. The only person in the room who has his undivided attention and while it might be entirely infatuation by your attractiveness, the mutual friends you two share describe you having a heart of gold.

A heart that is impenetrable. Strong, sturdy, shining metal that no one has been able to get through, but Renjun thinks that it’s because you can tell someone is undeserving. Keen and observant eyes, it’s a good thing that his stares don’t linger for long.

As he walks down the descending steps to sit in the row behind you, he remembers a very drunk night over the past weekend and an idiotic bet that has him punching himself. He wishes that he never agreed, but the liquid pride in him could not bite his tongue.

“(Y/N)?” His friend scorns and Renjun slaps his forehead at the slip of your name. Truthfully, the alcohol is messing with his head and he’s saying things that are no longer in his control. But how could he have possibly let the one secret he holds to himself out into the small crowd.

He mumbles profanities underneath his breath, trying to limit light from hurting his blurry vision, and rubbing his throbbing temples. “Yes, (Y/N).” There is no confidence in his voice at the whisper of your name.

“Dude, (Y/N) is way out of your league.” The headache just doesn’t have an end. He knows this; there is no way you’d ever bat an eyelash at him first. Renjun just likes things that are impossible to him, a poor habit of his.

“I bet I could get (Y/N) to get with me first before you ever can.” Then, Renjun’s eyes shoot open wide and the view of the arrogance laughing in the dimness slowly boils his blood.

Renjun may seem like the weaker link to pick on, but he is not one to give up a fight. While his friend has an advantage, the last thing Renjun would want is for you to fall for a horrendous two faced personality.

He’ll charm your pants off and when he gets what he wants: the victory and your vulnerability, he’ll hurt you. Would you be able to see past his fake genuineness or actually fall for the person he plays so well? Renjun can’t let anyone hurt you if he can prevent it.

“I bet that I can get (Y/N) to fall in love with me.” Renjun stumbles to stand up proudly, making himself bolder and more intimidating. Nevertheless, the drowsiness intoxicates him and he can barely keep his line of vision focused.

He sees the disgusting smirk on his friend’s face and a hand extends out for Renjun to shake. “Okay. Let’s bet on it. If you can’t get (Y/N) to fall in love with you, they’ll be mine and you can’t speak to them ever again.”

“Nice use of claiming someone who barely knows you exist.” The alcohol didn’t take away Renjun’s sharp sarcasm and the constant rolling of his eyes.

Renjun truly has no confidence at the game he decided to engage in, his only motive is to protect you from a bad guy. He wouldn’t even know how to handle the potential chance that you could like him back, did you have the ability to do so?

He never had the intention to confess to you, his heart has been broken all too much already by unrequited loves from his past. And if he had to be honest with himself, his admiration for you has become so strong that even he’s afraid to be someone to taint it.

What are the odds that the entire row behind you is already filled? Renjun’s throat closes when he sees the empty seat right next to you and the professor starting up his presentation. Other students push past him to hurry into empty seats before lecture begins, and his own feet pick him up toward you.

Like a magnetic pull, you attract him with an inexplicable force so naturally. Clearing his throat, he swallows the anxiousness that blocks him from speaking.

“Is this seat taken?”

This is it. This is the first of many looks you two will share, and Renjun’s heart pounds at his chest to wait for your eyes to meet his own for more than a second.

As if the room falls silent and everything is in slow motion, Renjun captures the very image when you blink up at him with beautiful dazzling gentleness and the utter sugar of your lips curling upwards. And he’s stunned, hoping it doesn’t show on his face.

“No.” It’s a simple reply and nothing worth jumping out of joy about, but he tries so hard to hold back the growing smile of your acknowledgement. You are being polite, but something inside of him feels giddy and like static running through his veins.

“Thanks.” Dropping his bag, he enters the seat carefully and sits with his hands folded together on the tiny table.

You examine the attentive boy, as his focus is trained on the lecture slides and the unprepared professor messing with his mic. Chuckling, “you don’t take notes?”

Renjun is surprised at your sudden interaction, completely blindsided by your friendliness. He wasn’t sure how well that would have worked, but your curiosity speaks for you. “I actually forgot my laptop today.” The heavy device sits in his bag at his feet, but he doesn’t dare take it out after the lie.

The soft ‘oh’ that falls from your mouth is too cute and Renjun clears his throat to bring him back from his daydreams of you. Looking apologetic, he shrugs and pretends to gear his attention back to the professor, who finally starts the long awaited class.

“I can send you my notes for the day, if you’d like.” The kindness in your voice does not go unnoticed, in fact, it causes Renjun to hold onto it for a little longer to fuel his undying crush for you.

“I’d love that—” Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the word love for the strictly friendly gesture. “—you’re a lifesaver. Uh, how should I refer to you as?” Playing dumb is his only way to get to you, for now.

“(Y/N). And you?” You hand your phone toward him with social media popped up to input his user handle.

Renjun introduces himself as his sweaty fingers type, and he wonders if he should have polished up any photos that may have you steering away from him. However when he returns your device, the smile that lights up your face allows him to breathe easily.

“I knew you sounded familiar. You’re friends with Jaemin, right?” Your whisper grows soft as you multitask to make conversation and jot down a few important bullet points from the slides. Renjun tries hard to dissect the information as well, but the boring tone of his professor is nothing compared to his crush finally having conversation with him.

“We’re housemates along with two other people.” His body is able to relax now that he’s broken the wall of introductions. You carry yourself to be more intimidating than you actually are.

When he peeks back over at your concentrated expression, your lip is hidden by your top row of teeth and your quick eyes dart between the monitor and your page. How are you so good at literally everything?

“A small world.” He picks up your every word, “well Renjun, since this class has basically ruined my life, would it be too much to ask if you’re down to study with me?” And despite the fluorescent lights being absolutely dull, they still dust your eyes with an enticing glitter.

He must have been staring for too long because you start your sentence of doubt, but Renjun stammers over his response. The professor isn’t quite happy with the small overlap of chatter and shoots a glare at the two of you.

That’s definitely not a good way to start, but it’s memorable. Renjun motions for your pen, and scribbles in his own font the answer to your offer:

I’d love that :)

Then, his heart soars back into the clouds once again at the grin that settles and your written response:

Me too <3

How does one get someone to fall for them? If Renjun knew, he wouldn’t still be single and infatuated with someone too good for him. He wishes that it’s as simple as the myths make it out to be, where all Cupid had to do was draw his bow and launch a loving arrow that pierces through the heart — an instant love.

But playing Cupid himself is harder than anticipated. He has no handy tools to assist him with his goals. He just has himself, lacks luster and is invisible. Can he be more painfully boring?

And he looks at you with literal hearts in his eyes. An excitement that awaits him, the true meaning of a head turner. That is you. And all he can offer is his mere presence.

“So how did you and Jaemin meet?” Looking up from your blinding laptop screen, Renjun feels the light tap underneath the table from your foot. He chuckles at the subtly adorable affection, and your own way of showing it.

This has to be the third round of study sessions you two shared, and bit by bit, he falls more and more for you despite it needing to be the other way around. The captivating get-to-know you conversation of favorites all down to your aspirations and goals.

The intelligence of you, your wisdom, your perspective. While he did not have this insight before, knowing it now only makes you more alluring. He can’t believe you’re even sitting with him in his shared living room, just the two of you.

“We met at orientation. He’s persistent.” Renjun laughs lightly and you smile in return, nodding along with his statement.

“Wish I met you guys at orientation. I was never the one to reach out to people first until college forced me out of my shell.” He hopes his ears didn’t deceive him, but Renjun had to do a double take: you said you guys, which includes him, right? You wish you had met him earlier?

But the latter shocks him a bit. If he recalls your first meeting, you were the one curious enough to continue speaking to him. “I would have never guessed.”

“Really?” There is a notable light in your eyes as you tilt your head. “I don’t seem shy?”

“Not at all…” He has to stop himself from going on an incredible tangent about how greatly outspoken you are, it gives away too much on how observant he’s been.

“I’m good at hiding it then.” You examine the soft shade of pink on the tips of his ears and his averting shy gazes. “What are you good at hiding?”

Your question leaves him speechless and gripping at any ends of answers. There are a number of ways he can go about it, but the truth is not one of them.

What is he good at hiding? His unconditional affection for you. He’s good at concealing every heavy heart beat at your smallest actions. He’s good at keeping a regretful secret bet.

But as those options pop into his head, he doesn’t want to say any of them. So, he opts for a white lie instead and hopes that the hesitation doesn’t sell him out for being a nervous wreck.

“I’m good at hiding what I fear.” You blink at him, clearly intrigued to want to know more.

“You do seem pretty fearless, Huang Renjun.” There is a brief exchange of eye contact and Renjun swears that his pounding heart can be heard in the silence. A smirk on your lips as you return to your work, he’s warm inside from the usage of his full name. And you don’t even realize the effect you have over him.

“So, you and (Y/N) are close. How did that start?” Jaemin jumps onto Renjun’s neatly made bed. The covers are now ruffled and tossed from the impact.

Jaemin isn’t home very often, but in the rare times he has been, it’s always during the study sessions with you. The first time you came over, Jaemin tried not to talk up a storm from seeing a familiar face. He respects Renjun’s relationships, so he tried his best to keep from prying at the boy.

“You finally want to know?” Renjun scoffs lightheartedly, punching his housemate lightly on the shoulder as he swivels around in his chair. With an excited wide smile, Jaemin tugs at his friend’s arm as an endearing sign of persistence. “Okay, okay. We have the same class.”

“(Y/N) really approached you in a three hundred student lecture?” A tone of disbelief settles in Jaemin’s rhetorical question. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for Renjun to tell some truth.

“Not exactly. I sat next to them and a conversation just happened.” Renjun shrugs as if it’s nothing big, as if it hadn’t been for your curiosity that started this blossoming relationship.

“Spare me the details.” Jaemin sits up to hold Renjun by his shoulders. The pressure feels oddly crushing, like a whole weight dropping on him. Jaemin stares him dead in the eyes. “What are your motives, Huang Renjun?”

His mouth hangs slightly open from the question. “I can’t be friends with (Y/N)?” Almost defensively, Renjun furrows his eyebrows at his friend, but he can tell Jaemin has caught onto his lie.

“I heard that you made a bet with a certain shithead.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at remembering their horrible mutual, a crime to even consider him as a friend. He drops his heavy hands from Renjun’s shoulders and falls back onto the mattress.

The alarming expression of grave danger, Renjun is screwed. He gulps the gathered saliva in the back of his mouth, searching for a plausible explanation. “I was drunk.” He slaps his forehead at the stupid reasoning as Jaemin shoots upright to begin scolding him.

“Let me explain,” Renjun covers his mouth to halt Jaemin’s excessive nagging. “I like (Y/N), that’s how the bet even came alive. I slipped up and then he was saying all this stuff about (Y/N) being out of my league.”

“Which is true.” Jaemin adds, quite muffled but doesn’t slip past Renjun.

Renjun glares and thanks him sarcastically. “I made the bet to protect (Y/N) from him. He was provoking me by saying that he can get (Y/N) first and since I was heavily intoxicated, I didn’t think before I spoke.”

Jaemin holds Renjun warmly, seeing that his friend needed a hug from the saddened memory. It’s all too obvious how regretful Renjun feels. “So I’m trying my best at carrying the bet because there’s too much at stake.”

A chill runs down his spine remembering the consequences. He just can’t fail. Jaemin pulls away and lightly pats Renjun’s hair. “Cupid has made you into a fool for your crush.”

“He’s made me into a bigger one for thinking I could get my crush to like me back.” Renjun sighs in defeat and groans loudly. Why does this frustrate him so much? Perhaps it’s the lack of ability to actually get someone to like him back.

Renjun has been single for his entire life, not by choice. He’s done the movie cliches of a confession: a bouquet of roses, a poster, a night under the stars. And not one has ever accepted his feelings. He doesn’t blame any of them since he still struggles with finding things to love about himself. What is there to love about him? He can’t seem to find any redeeming qualities worth mentioning.

But you. You, alone, is simply worth an honorable mention. And now that it’s been well over a month of your friendship, he can confirm that you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.

“Why don’t you start by being (Y/N)’s friend first? Love doesn’t just happen in an instant, no offense to Cupid or anything. I mean.. isn’t it all just a myth anyways?” Jaemin picks Renjun’s falling chin and he can see the glossy eyes of sadness. They swim with frustration and guilt.

Like an epiphany, Jaemin gave Renjun a starting place. For weeks, Renjun racked his brain for an easy solution out of it all. In reality, he didn’t need any wicked form of magic for foul play. He just wants to be by your side for as long as you allow. And a part of him is scared for you to like him back.

You’ve always been too out of his reach. Standing on a pedestal, you’re something unattainable. It’s lucky that you even bat an eyelash at him. He’s admired you all too much, Renjun won’t actually know what to do if you ever did like him back.

This all stems from his inner insecurities, like a recurring thought: what is there to like about him? Or is he even good enough for you?

If someone had warned him that love could become this confusing, he would’ve sacrificed his heart for something less complicated. To feel. To love. Renjun wishes he can remove the love bow that pierced through his chest.

On a random Friday night, Renjun’s phone rings with an unexpected caller ID. He pauses the song he’s been listening to for the past hour to pick up.

“Renjun! I’m sad and drunk right now.” Your voice is incredibly slurred and he can barely hear you with the loud background noise. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Are you over on Third Ave. again?” He despises that place. A house on the corner of Third Avenue right off the interstate from campus that throws weekly parties. These parties are overcrowded with creeps and cheap booze. Unfortunately, you’re favorite place to run away to.

This isn’t his first time coming to get you. Over the past few months of your established friendship, you’ve sent him numerous amounts of drunk texts calling for him. This is the first time you actually called, preluding to a really rough night you’ve been having.

You sigh into the receiver, “you remembered.” like you’re on the verge of tears, he can hear the quiver in your tiny voice.

“I have your location, idiot.” Renjun smiles at your silly drunk reactions, finding you more enduring from the innocence. “I’ll be there in a blink.”

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes so I can open them to you.” You giggle before hanging up and Renjun can’t keep the widest grin off of his face. He’s rushing out his door, not wanting to wait another second to see you.

One thing Renjun realized after finally growing close enough to you is that through all his infatuation, you’re still a human. While he thinks of you in a sparkling cascading glitter waterfall, you’re made of the same softness that Renjun has. You’re not perfect and he needed to stop idolizing you as if you’re some shiny trophy.

No, he’s learned that he needed to love you for who you truly are. And the moment he broke down your layers, the glass tears that fell from your cheeks were real. The pain through your confident façade, Renjun needed to love you at your lowest.

He saw you for you, not the attractive person from his lecture he drooled months over. You are the exact reality that movies are afraid to portray. You’re courageous, chic, charming. But you’re also shy, soft spoken, and silly. You’re like waking up during dawn and marveling in the silence of a sleeping society. You’re also like smiles on a sunny day and living in the moment.

Renjun is lovestruck, wildly in love with all that you are. The only thing that brings down his spirits is the lingering bet he made several months ago and he hates how it’s always gnawing at him. It’s like an echo, bouncing off the walls of his mind. He can’t shake it off. Most of the time, he tries to focus the moment in front of him, but it has him tossing and turning in the middle of the night.

Without much surprise, you stand in front of the overflowing party house with eyes cutely squeezed shut. A friend by your side to wait with you. “Open your eyes.” Renjun yells as windows roll down and he double parks the car.

Your eyes gleam in the darkness and bidding your friend a quick goodbye, you jump into the familiar vehicle and embrace your good friend with a longing hug. Renjun chuckles at your adorable actions, patting your shoulder lightly. Despite the cheerful welcome, the mood immediately shifts when he hears your tiny sniffs and feels the tears on his shirt.

“C’mon, your favorite ice cream flavor is waiting for you at my place.” As he whispers positive affirmations, you can only cry harder into his chest. “You’re not feeling too good tonight, are you?”

It’s way too obvious of a question to ask, he knows. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say and comforting is not his strongest skill without it turning it into a life lesson. He knows what you need, just someone to acknowledge how you’re feeling and to listen.

“I’m feeling the worst tonight. I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later?” You pull away from his arms, even if he isn’t ready to let you go. He helps buckle your seatbelt and wipe any remaining wetness on your cheeks.

Your hand briefly touches Renjun’s which causes the boy to freeze at the sudden action. Your hazy smile is unclear, but you lean into him before he can process all the randomness. A kiss on his cheek, the most delicate feeling of lips on skin.

Renjun explodes inside, like hazardous fireworks on a cloudy night. He wants to enjoy it, but his circumstances make it difficult for him to. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Your body slumps back onto the seat, a pout on your lower lip. Renjun shifts awkwardly in his seat, buckling his seatbelt to begin the ride home. He can’t find the words to say.

You’re being too casual about what had just happened, as if you’re ignoring it all. Or you simply have no control over anything that you’re doing. “Let me tell you a secret, Injunie.” The sugarcoated nickname. You’re definitely too drunk at the moment, and whatever you do now will be long forgotten the next morning.

Renjun still doesn’t say anything, relishing in the kiss on the cheek just seconds ago. His fingers lightly touch his face, grazing upon the very part your lips came in contact with. He’s truly through the moon and— “I used to have the biggest crush on Jaemin.” Renjun abruptly steps on the brakes, whipping the both of you in your seats.

His heart is falling, it’s plummeting and he can’t do anything to save it. “I really didn’t expect such a surprised reaction.”

Renjun clears his throat. “I’m just caught off guard.” Not a lie, he really wasn’t expecting a confession and his heart to break right at this moment. “Why Jaemin?”

He knows why Jaemin. He’s a social butterfly with no caution to the wind and a heart made of pure kindness. A welcoming friendly figure that won’t hesitate to feed into someone’s need for words of affirmation. Not to mention, Jaemin has a good few inches above him and looks of a poster kpop idol. Of course, you liked Jaemin.

“He has such a good heart. I guess I just like guys who think of me first, as selfish as that sounds. I don’t prioritize myself, so it would be nice if someone else did.” You fiddle your thumbs and Renjun is impatiently tapping his fingers against the wheel.

The red traffic light before you enacts two different feelings. Renjun wants this ride to end as fast as possible. You want this ride to last forever.

“But, Jaemin is seeing someone.”

Your head ducks down and out the window at the shining streetlamps; you know very well about Jaemin’s love life. “I didn’t expect anything from him. I just liked him for him. He came to pick me up every time I would ask, I guess I have a thing for guys who do that.”

Renjun tightens his grip, heart pounding at your statement. You peer up to look at your friend in the lack of light. His glasses sit low on his nose bridge, a soft cotton shirt hugs his torso, and pajama pants that clad his legs. A mess bed of hair as the cherry on top.

After Jaemin, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall for anyone so easily. All of that was thrown out the window the very first night Renjun came to your saving. Despite contrary belief, your heart is not as impenetrable as people make you out to be. And as tough as you can be, it was too hard not to be the slightest interested in him.

Ever since your first meeting, Renjun has always been cool and collected. He’s a hothead at his best, but too playful for any serious damage. Renjun reminds you of yourself. Like a huge impenetrable wall built against any trouble to enter, he is as guarded as you are. He’s timid, and while you had tried your best to hide your own, Renjun simply embraces that part of him.

Renjun stayed after every tearful night. He’s helped you through every difficult study guide, if anything he saved your failing grade.

Renjun puts you first throughout anything; asking if you want the booth seat at restaurants, strategically walking on the outer side so you can avoid driving cars, always has your favorite snacks without you asking. Every tiny gesture, may you be slightly delusional, seemed as if he loved you. And if he did, you wouldn’t mind one bit because you wanted to love him back.

“What about you? We’ve never really talked about our love lives before.” You speak up in the silence, Rejun being awfully quiet tonight. He hopes you don’t blame him, but everything has been too overwhelming. He is no longer sure on what he wants to do or how to react.

“My love life is too sad to talk about.” He’s never wanted to talk about it with you, in case he’d slip up and say something too revealing. “It’s a long list of unrequited loves. I’ve given up on professing my feelings to someone at this point.”

“What would have to happen to get you to confess?” Your eyes coin a mischievous twinkle.

Renjun feels his palms grow sweaty, a bit nervous with this conversation topic.

“Something catastrophic.”

Something catastrophic did end up happening. Renjun wishes he could disappear, or if he runs away, would anyone notice?

He stands behind your fuming stance. In any other given situation, Renjun would be more than flattered that you’re standing up for him. However in this case, you’re making a fool out of yourself on his behalf.

“Oh, so you haven’t told (Y/N) about the bet?” Of all the nights Renjun decides to accompany you on a Friday evening, he runs until the one person he never wanted to come within ten feet to.

Truthfully, the night was going well. He ran into a few of his other acquaintances from his club, others from his classes. You held onto his arm the moment you two entered the party, afraid to lose this precious boy in the dense crowd. People walked by and expressed how cute you two looked together.

You poured him drinks that will make his head throb and you busted dance moves that made his heart throb. You were the epitome of a fun time, like an explosion of positive endorphins. Your toothy smiles. Your bright electrified eyes. Your sweet laughter. This was the last beautiful image he had of you before everything came falling apart.

“What bet?” You quickly turn around to face Renjun. His hand scratches the back of his neck and his gaze stays staring at his own feet. Your throat grows tight from Renjun’s hesitation.

“He made a bet with me that he could get you to fall in love with him.” Please stop talking, Renjun begs in his thoughts. He tightens his fist, unable to form words to speak. The thumping of the loud music makes it hard to focus.

“He—” Shaky voice and stuttering… even you are having doubts of Renjun’s character. “He wouldn’t do that.” Your eyes bounce between him and Renjun.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you don't know him very well then.” Renjun’s arrogant friend crosses his arms coolly, a smug smirk unfolding on his face.

“It’s true, (Y/N). I did make the bet and I regret it every waking day.” Renjun finally speaks up, but you’re out the door before he can continue.

There isn’t another thought in his head when he’s running after you; you’re already so far down the road. The secret was bound to be revealed, but he wasn’t ready for it. He was never going to be ready for this day because his first mistake was making the bet to begin with.

He should have thought about you. He should have just swallowed his pride and talked his friend out of it. Was that a choice? Could he have just done that instead of letting it fester into such a problem?

Out of breath and out of mind, Renjun calls out your name. When you spin on your heels to walk toward him, his heart reaches for you. However, you push at his chest and he almost falls backwards.

You’re angry, more than angry. You’re upset. You have every right to be. “What were you thinking, Renjun?” There is a small crack in your voice and he can see your tear stained cheeks under the moonlight. “Am I even your friend? All this time… you had an agenda. Were your actions all fake, then? You wanted to manipulate me into falling in love with you?”

Your words are hitting like large bricks. You are questioning the past five months of your friendship and everything Renjun has ever done for you. A false reality, Renjun didn’t actually give a damn about you. He wanted to prove some odd male status. Could you be any more blind?

“Please let me explain… I was drunk out of my mind that night and the bet I made was stupid. It was before proper evaluation. Does it make it okay? No, I understand that.” Renjun speaks with his hands, clearly panicked and frazzled by the way they waved around in the air. “The bet… I did it to protect you from that guy. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“So you hurt me instead?” If someone were to listen closely, they would be able to hear the shattering of two hearts tonight. On this late evening, two hearts are broken under the moon and stars.

But it’s pitiful because the arrow that struck Renjun remains intact. He still loves you, which is why it pains him so much to where he can’t breathe. The information in his head is scattered, like an alarm blaring through his empty brain.

All he knows is that he loves you. You are the one thing he’s afraid of losing. From the first words you two exchanged, his fear that he hid all too well is and always will be losing you.

“That was not my intention ever. I never wanted to hurt you.” Renjun takes a step closer, but you take one back.

“Well you did because your little bet… it worked. I love you, Renjun, so congratulations.” There is bitterness and an inexplicable amount of heartbreak that lace your venomous confession.

All of his life, he thought that if one person liked him back, he’d be the happiest person in the world. Possibly confused at how to proceed with the information, but definitely glad that someone could see any redeeming characteristics in him.

But he feels all the opposite. Your confession keeps his heart broken. If anything, it puzzles him more. “How..? Why would you ever like me?” There were no tricks, no attempts at flirtation, nothing out of bounds of being your friend. He just had himself. And if anyone in the universe were to like him, he’d never expect it would be you.

You groan, growing more infuriated at Renjun. “Because you’re everything I wish I could be. You’re level-headed and insightful. You’re calm and cool, without any necessary arrogance. The way you make me feel… I feel important to you, at least, I thought I was.” Your voice continues to drop softer and softer, “how could I not like you?”

The butterflies could not come at a better time. Hearing you compliment him when he found it difficult to look past his own self deprecation, he’s beyond any levels of shock. Nevertheless, he feels apologetic and knew that this is all too good to be true.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), for making that terrible bet. But, I need you to know one thing: our friendship was genuine. All I’ve ever wanted these past months is to make sure your sweet smile stays resting on your beautiful face.”

“Why? You didn’t know me! You used me for some … pride gamble. I was nothing to you the day you made that bet.” You shout harsh words at him, and Renjun can’t hold back any longer.

This is what he meant by something catastrophic. When he’s pushed to the edge of a cliff, all his buttons are pressed aggressively. Everything falling apart. The loose ends coming undone all too quickly to grapple. He never wanted it to come to this.

“That-That’s not true! I loved you long before that regretful night! You mean every single moment of happiness to me. You’re every ray of sunshine that kisses my skin, every blue sky that reminds me of good days. You mean everything to me.” Genuine words pour from his lips, hoping that you’ll understand what’s left of his heart.

“You’re confessing?” You gasp, practically dazed at the amount of metaphors he compared you to. “Something catastrophic.” A small moment of recollection and a mumble under your breath, you’re understanding what he meant by the phrase he used several nights ago.

“Yes because I can't lose you. I’m a mess of feelings at the moment, but I just know that I’m scared to wake up to days without you in them.” Renjun pleads, the night air causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. His eyes are full of melancholy and fear as he waits for your response.

And you want to forgive him, but would that mean your heart is being too easy? You feel lingering pain, but your eyes reflect Renjun. “To think I thought you were pretty fearless.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes at him and are completely unsure what to do next.

Nevertheless, you’ve wanted someone like Renjun at some point in your life. You hoped for better days and those didn’t start happening until you two met. Renjun went from being your distant study partner to being your number one person to call. He’s wiped more tears than any boy has.

The difference between Renjun and Jaemin is while Jaemin is known to have an extravagantly warm presence, Renjun’s is hidden underneath all the quietness. Like a breakthrough, getting through Renjun felt like getting through to yourself. You needed him to aid in your own self love.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be seen and Renjun saw you.

“I forgive you.” Renjun can finally breathe and rest his tense muscles. But when he reaches for your hand, you take it away. “But it doesn’t mean we are okay. I’ll approach you when I’m ready.”

It’s not easy to love as it’s not easy to pretend that everything can go back to normal after being hurt. You need him to understand that, would he wait for you? The many others before didn’t.

“Okay.” That is all he can say, in the midst of a defeat, he still wishes that you’d stay by his side. But he wrestles that desire with transparency and having organic feelings. Nonetheless, he values the latter. If you did really somehow manage to love him, you’ll come back when you’re ready. He knows. He understands. He sees you through and through.

And he watches you disappear back into the house to find a friend to drive you home. He loves you, but love can also be consequential.

It’s already midway into the school semester and not that Renjun is counting or anything, but it’s been practically a whole month since the night at the party. He’s done nothing, except sigh in despair and reminisce about the memories before they were ruined.

While Jaemin’s efforts to console him are much appreciated, it doesn’t do much for the fact that you haven’t acknowledged Renjun’s existence for a whole thirty days.

And although he’ll wait a lifetime for you, the question of when he should move on ponders his clouded thoughts. His intensively agonizing desire of wanting to be by your side has dwindled down now. Renjun just wants to see you happy.

“Hey Cupid,” It’s a newly despised nickname coined by the one and only person who knows how to push at Renjun’s buttons — Lee Haechan. Haechan knocks obnoxiously at his door and does not wait around to hear an answer, “get your sad face out here.”

“Go away, Haechan. I’m not in the mood.” As Renjun mindlessly skims over his calendar for important dates, he is pained by the reminder of your upcoming birthday. You had marked it yourself a while back and specifically told Renjun that his attendance is entirely mandatory.

Times have changed now, right? You’ve been radio silent for weeks and as much as he hates to say this to himself: you probably don’t remember making such an assertion. Why would you? You’re most likely not thinking about him anymore anyways and maybe that’s for the better.

“Hey! Lovestruck Asshole, I’m not going to tell you again. Get that arrow out of your ass and come outside now.” Just the demand alone in Haechan’s voice irritates Renjun enough to where he’s storming to open his door.

But what it reveals is not the smirk of his annoying housemate, instead, it is the image of the very first time Renjun ever laid eyes on you and the moment Cupid’s Arrow struck right through his heart. It’s a rush of nostalgia that surges through his veins.

You sit with a hand underneath your chin and elbow pressing into a flat surface for support. The dazed stare of daydream as you’re unaware of your surroundings, yet still waiting for something exciting to catch your attention. And just how lovely you look in the softest rose colored shirt and how your lips, still barely glistening from a quick swipe of your tongue, are slightly agape into an expressionless rest.

All before your eyes trail to the distraction of another body entering the room and for a brief second, make eye contact with Renjun as he’s all the more astonished by your grace. Then like a scene that’s imprinted in his head too clearly, your gaze drops back down to the floor and you’re back to your inner thoughts.

As if the pierced arrow in his heart is triggered, Renjun rediscovers the feelings of a newfound infatuation — a crush. Though baseless except in regards to physical attraction, he’s nonetheless amazed by how quickly you take his breath away… again.

Unlike the first memory, you actually speak to him as you’re now familiar with the starry eyed boy. “It’s been a while.”

The color in your voice that he’s missed hearing is pure music. He clears his throat as if he’s afraid of his own vocal chords breaking from nervousness.

“H-Hey, yeah. It’s been a while.” Renjun repeats dumbfounded that you’re even sitting in his shared living room.

“How have you been?” There you are being polite, but the giddiness still runs like static through his veins at being asked about his well being.

“Lost.” He blurts out the first word that comes to mind. Perhaps, he should stop using words with such heavy implications to friendly gestures. Your head immediately pops up and he scrambles to correct himself. “I mean I’ve been distracted lately.”

“Sadness really does take its course.” You tread lightly, testing the waters with a small grin. The atmosphere is oddly comforting, like feeling you can’t quite replace.

Renjun looks rather rough around the edges, but you don’t blame him since you did show up unannounced. However, the glint in his eyes is much of a delight to see. The way his small mouth curves into the tiniest smile and the gentleness in his regular cadence remind you of past long days full of laughter. The best part of them all — you spent them together.

“My birthday is coming up soon.” Jumping straight to the point of your visit, you stand up to approach him. “I plan to host a small party… and I remember saying a while back that your attendance is mandatory.”

Renjun catches his breath in his throat and he could run gleeful laps around the room if it isn’t for the poorly spaced complex. “So are you still down, Huang Renjun?”

“I’d love that.” He smiles greatly at your offer and as simple as that, your arms wrap around his torso into a long awaited embrace.

“Me too.” You mumble into his shirt and take a deep breath of his lavender scented detergent, “I’m ready. I’m ready to have you in my life. I’m ready to laugh with you. I’m ready to lay in your company. I’m ready to give you my heart.”

As you finish your last sentence, his arms wrap around you too and pull you into a tighter hold. “You have always had mine.”

Renjun can finally remove the arrow that unforgivingly stayed stuck in his heart for the longest time. Your reciprocated love fills up the hole that is left behind. He can now love you with a full and whole heart.

#nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct #renjun #renjun scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #huang renjun #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream imagines #huang renjun scenarios #7days

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love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

Cavern and Foe

M elf X GN reader, 8,276 words.

After coming across a sworn enemy and shooting him, you both fall into an underground cavern. The only way out is to work together. If, of course, you can manage it.

You unfurled yourself from your hunting crouch and headed a few steps further into the forest. It was unnaturally quiet in the dusk, and you could feel your stomach grinding hungrily against your ribs- it had been hours since your last meal at dawn, but you still hadn’t managed to catch anything. The only animal you had managed to hit with your arrow had been a deer, and that had only been in the flank. Generally, your ritehood was not going well.

It would be another week and a half before you were allowed back in your village. Hunting wasn’t strictly necessary for the ritehood; there were plenty of people before you who had survived on a diet of plants alone, whether by choice or necessity. But an unwillingness or inability to bring down prey did preclude you from your chosen profession.

You wanted to be a warrior. And that meant proving that you were strong and skilled enough to become one.

Something rustled the undergrowth behind you. You shifted your weight, turning your body toward the noise without making any of your own. With only the smallest, most delicate motions, you removed an arrow from your quiver and threaded it. There were precious few of them left- you were going to need to make this shot count.

The rustling moved closer to you. You squinted through the woods, trying to make out the shape moving between the trees. It was tall. Perhaps a bear? Taking down one of those would surely confirm your path as a warrior. But it would have to be fairly young to be so quiet- bears were usually much heavier.

You caught a glimpse of tanned skin through the trees and loosed your arrow. It plunged straight and true into the flesh of your target.

The scream that went up made your hair stand on end. It was full of raw agony, a nearly human scream, but with a razor-sharp edge that made it sound a little like a wildcat’s. Your heart leapt. A cougar, perhaps? That would earn you a warrior position, surely. Barely breathing, you plunged through the woods toward your target.

What you saw made you stumble to a graceless stop.

It looked almost like a person, wearing off-white robes with an embroidered neckline. From its head, poking through its black hair, rose a crown of short, bone white horns. Its ears were long and pointed, extending almost past the back of its head.

An elf. You whipped out your bow and pointed an arrow at its throat. An elf. With its head, you would be the most respected member of your town. You could be a warrior, if you wanted; you would probably be given a high-ranking position right off the bat. Who would deny you, after you had killed one of your people’s greatest enemies?

The victory was already singing sweet inside your head, so you were too distracted to notice the elf’s tail whipping across the ground. It hooked your ankle with a surprisingly strong grip for its thin size and yanked.

Your feet went from underneath you. Only barely did you manage to catch yourself on your elbows, and by the point, the elf was on his feet, sprinting back into the forest.

Rage flashed through you. In seconds, you were on your feet, plunging after him. You could see him darting between trees and scrambling through the undergrowth. Bright spots of blood stood out against the deep green of the forest, guiding you after him.

He was slowing down, stumbling more and more. The splotches of blood were growing bigger- running seemed to be making the injury worse. You were right behind him, gaining on him with every step. Without breaking your stride, you pulled your bow off your back and nocked an arrow. You trained your sight on him. All you needed to do was get one good hit- just one.

And, before you could blink, he dropped out of sight.

Confused, you staggered, trying to kill your momentum. Where had he-

And then you pitched into the same pit he’d fallen down.

You felt yourself hit the ground in slow motion. One of your arms twisted underneath you. There was a split second of stomach-turning horror where you heard and felt your bone crunch as you landed on it. Then there was one second of nothing.

And then the pain hit you.

Agony. You couldn’t move your arm. You couldn’t fathom moving it. There was nothing to move. Your arm was nothing more than a white-hot blaze of pain. It made your stomach churn with the awfulness of it and you rolled onto your belly so you could vomit. Sobs and dry heaves mingled together, leaving your body convulsing and trembling.

Time lost all meaning for a while, but eventually, you got used to the pain. It was still there, but you were able to take one small part of your brain away from screaming in agony and figure out what was happening.

You were in some kind of small cave. The hole you had fallen through was distant above you, far enough away that you could blot it out with the palm of your hand. The room curved upward, like an inverted bowl. It was only the size of a small room, perhaps ten feet across. Sitting across the room, glaring at you, was the elf you had just been chasing.

There was a long, awkward silence. He was clutching at his shoulder, blood pumping slowly down his front. You moved instinctively for your bow, but froze when you touched it- it had been smashed upon landing, no more than splinters and string. Not that it mattered- you weren’t shooting one handed. With your good hand, you fumbled for your knife, but you weren’t excited about your chances- the broken arm was your strong arm, and you were pretty sure that even injured, he would be able to wrestle the knife away from you.

“It would seem we are at a stalemate,” the elf said. His voice was slightly accented and rather soft. “You cannot kill me, I have no desire to kill you, and we are not getting out of here any time soon.”

You glared at him from across the room, as much as you could manage. It was hard to stop your expression from twisting into a grimace of pain. “Maybe you’re giving up. I’m going to climb out.”

The elf somehow managed to make an eyebrow raise look sarcastic, but he said nothing else. Cradling your broken arm, you examined the wall. Unfortunately, the hole you had fallen through appeared to be roughly at the apex of a dome. Attempting to scale it would mean pretty big sections where you hung nearly upside down, a feat that would be difficult with two functional arms. With only one still working, it was nearly impossible.

That didn’t mean you weren’t going to give it a try. There were a few rocks that jutted out from the wall, creating solid footholds. You braced your good arm against the wall and started to climb.

Your fingers slipped from the stone when you were only couple of feet above the ground. You struck the ground hard, knocking the wind out of your lungs. For a moment, you just lay there, gasping and choking as pain radiated up your broken arm.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to sit up and you risked a glance at your broken arm. You had been avoiding looking at it, mostly out of fear.

Your stomach twisted as you looked at it. The bone had shifted against your skin. It hadn’t broken through, but you could see the unsettling jut of it, twisting the shape of your arm. It took several deep breaths and staring determinedly at the ground before you could settle your stomach.

“You’ll need to set that.” The elf sound smug. “It’ll be useless until then, and worse than useless if it heals like this.”

You looked down at your arm again. Experimentally, you probed it with your fingertips. The pain was bad enough that your vision hazed over for a moment, leaving you trembling and gasping on the ground.

When you came back to yourself, the elf was tearing strips of his toga apart. He wound the strips around the gash in his shoulder, tying it off. The movement of the arm seemed limited, but it was leagues better than yours. He paced slowly along his side of the room, resting his fingers against the wall. You followed the motion of his tail. His expression was smooth and unperturbed, but his tail whipped and coiled behind him, twining close to his legs.

Time slipped by with agonizing slowness. You could only tell it was passing because the light filtering into the cave was gradually growing dimmer. Your stomach growled, adding its own complaint to the aches and pains you were already feeling. You had been trying not to move, since that only seemed to aggravate your broken arm, but finally, driven by your groaning stomach, you shifted to look for your pack.

The elf watched you as you grabbed for your bag. It was small, but it contained a few days’ worth of rations. Looking at them made your nerves flare. There wasn’t enough to last you until your arm healed, and even if it had, you weren’t sure it was going to help. Your arm was not healing properly without being set, and every tiny touch made a nauseating wave of pain roll through you. You weren’t setting it on your own, and if your arm wasn’t set, you weren’t climbing out. Starvation was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.

Your stomach growled and you reached fumblingly for the food with your non-dominant hand. Fuck it. Might as well eat. Nothing would be solved by going hungry. You ripped into one of the strips of dried meat. Ugh. If it was going to be your last meal, you really wished it could have been something that tasted better.

“You have food?” The elf had gone still on the other side of the cave. One of his arms was pressed to his middle, like he was trying to massage away hunger pains. He was staring fixedly at you. In the dim light of the cave, his cheeks looked sallow and his eyes, sunken. Was he starving? You pulled the food bag tighter against your chest. Would you be able to hold him off if he decided to charge? He seemed to be thinking the same thing, eyes flicking over you. You might be able to get a few good kicks in, and if you got a lucky shot on his injury, you could probably incapacitate him. But he could easily incapacitate you, too. It was all up to luck. And neither of you were willing to take that chance.

The tension went out of him after a moment and he slumped against the wall, still staring at your bag. Your eyes drifted to the tight bandage at his shoulder. “Do you know how to set a broken bone?” you asked.

He looked at you cautiously. “I am aware of how to do it. I’ve never actually done it, though.”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” you said. “Set my arm and I’ll give you something to eat.”

His eyes drifted from your bag to you, then back to the bag. “And how are you going to stop me from twisting your arm and stealing the bag?” he asked.

“I’ve still got my knife on me,” you said, indicating the blade at your hip. “If you reach for the bag, I’ll have just enough time to gut you before you grab it.”

He eyed the knife. “And how do I know you’re not going to try to stab me the second I get within range?”

“Because then I’m not getting out of here either. I need my arm set. And you need to eat. We both need this. I’m not going to be stupid about this if you’re not.” The elf looked at you for a moment, weighing his options, then nodded.

He approached you slowly, eyes scanning your every move. You held as still as possible, keeping your hands low and nonthreatening. When he reached you, he crouched at your side, turning his body away from you. It was clear he was trying to keep any vulnerable points away from you.

His hands brushed your arm and you gave a strangled groan. “Usually, you’d set it with some sort of stick or piece of wood to keep the bone straight as it heals,” the elf said. “But I don’t have any of that.”

You glanced around. Your bow had chunks of wood that were as long as your forearm, but they were all curved. “Arrows,” you said. “I have a couple. Will those work?”

The elf lifted your quiver and slid one of the arrows free. He examined it for a moment, then deftly snapped off the tip and dropped it on the ground. You grimaced. The elf ripped at the hem of his clothes, tearing off another long strip of fabric. When he had a long enough chunk, he lay the fabric and arrow together and took your arm in his hands. Despite everything, his touch was soft and gentle, barely brushing your skin.

“The bone is out of place. I’ll have to shift it back in,” he said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll heal perfectly.”

“I’m good with good enough,” you said. You turned your head away. Looking at your arm was starting to make you feel sick. “Just go for it.”

“Hold on.” He reached down and seized another arrow. After snapping off the tip again, he pressed the body of the arrow to your lips. “Bite on it. It’ll hurt.”

You seized the arrow in your teeth. He nodded and looked back down at your arm. “All right. Three… t-” He hadn’t even finished saying two before he was pressing on your broken arm.

Your vision went white. Agony blazed through your brain. You couldn’t think. Distantly, you thought you could hear someone screaming. There was the vague sense that you were thrashing around. But you couldn’t be sure. The pain commanded all of your attention.

Slowly, the pain diminished. It didn’t go away, but you started being able to have coherent thoughts around it. You were lying down, sweat soaking into the dirt. Fine tremors ran over your body. The elf was sitting over you, looking ruffled.

“You kicked me,” he said. His voice was winded and, as your senses returned, you realized he was clutching his side.

“Sorry,” you said. Your voice was raspy and your throat protested even the simple aspect of talking. You’d said it reflexively, but to your surprise, you realized you were actually sorry. Genuinely, you hadn’t meant to hurt him. “You could, uh, kick me back.” It was a stupid thing to say, but you had said it so often to your siblings that it was nearly automatic. To your surprise, the elf laughed.

“I won’t.” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t move your arm. It’s bound, but it’s not stable. Arrows aren’t the best for splinting.”

Your arm was still throbbing bad enough to make your stomach turn, but you had enough wherewithal to turn and grab your bag. “Here,” you said, thrusting it at him. “Take some.”

He looked at you cautiously, then reached into the bag and started rummaging through your food. It would have been easy for him to drag the entire bag away from you. There was no way you were in enough of a shape to stop him. Instead, he pulled out a tied-off bag of dried fruit and laid the bag back at your feet. Transaction concluded, he retreated to his side of the cave.

It was rapidly getting darker in the cave. The sun was setting, and any light that you once had was fading. You shivered. The cave was chilly. Usually, you managed nights in the woods with a fire, but there was no wood and you weren’t quite desperate enough to sacrifice your clothes. Instead, you lay back on the dirt ground and did your best to cover your body with a coat. Shivering sucked. It made your arm ache even worse. Gradually, the cave dimmed into pitch blackness.

Despite your exhaustion, sleep refused to come. The sickening pain of your broken arm notwithstanding, every noise from across the cave made your eyes snap open again. Could he see you? There were rumors about elves having dark vision. If you fell asleep, it would be simple for him to steal your knife and slit your throat.

Your paranoia kept you from engaging in any but the lightest of sleep. The slightest sound brought you back to full wakefulness, and you never really lost consciousness. You only drifted in the dim, dreamy area between wakefulness and sleep.

Morning came to find you stiff, exhausted, and in a worse mood than you had been in the night. The pain in your arm was more insistent, a constant throbbing that shoved its way to the forefront of your mind. The elf appeared to be in only moderately better shape. He was holding his arm in a strange way, suggesting that his own wound had stiffened overnight, though he looked better rested.

Slowly and uncomfortably, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. The elf watched you, caution in every line of his body. You ignored him, instead scrounging in your bag for breakfast. Rationing was probably a good idea, so despite your weakness, you only ate a few strips of dried meat and a piece of hard biscuit. It barely filled the aching void of your stomach. Trying to distract yourself, you started fussing with the bandages on your arm.

“What do you think you’re doing, idiot?” the elf hissed at you. You paused, looking up at him. He had shifted closer to glare at you. “I went to all that trouble to bind your arm and you’re just screwing it up!”

Irritation flared in your chest. “I am not screwing it up! I’m making it tighter!”

He snorted. “Sure. Just don’t expect me to rebind it again when it comes apart. I’m not looking to get injured by you again.”

The anger grew brighter and hotter. Frustration at being trapped, injured, and afraid spilled over. “If you hadn’t been trespassing in the first place, I wouldn’t have shot at you! What were you doing on our land?” It felt good to vent your spleen on someone.

“Your land?” the elf snarled back. “You can’t own land! Just like a human, to think you can come in here and take whatever you want-”

“We take whatever we want?” Your voice echoed in the small space of the cave. “You stole our crops! But sure, act all high and mighty because we like to make sure our own people get fed-”

“You can’t steal a living creature! What lives belongs to the land and the land is for all! Only a human would want to possess everything!” The elf stormed toward you, jabbing a finger toward your chest.

“Only an elf would claim the moral high ground while stealing food from the mouths of our children!” You rose to meet him, faces inches apart. His features were as delicate as any elf’s beautiful even when twisted in rage. The constant ache of your arm only spurred your anger further.

“We did no such thing! If you have not sustained the land so that it will sustain you, then you only have yourselves to blame,” the elf sniffed. Red haze clouded your vision.

“How dare you! All you elves claim to be so pure and noble, but you’re all just a bunch of smug bastards, lording your superiority over everyone else! I bet if your people had to fight starvation off by tooth and nail every year, you wouldn’t be so damn high and mighty!”

“At least we’re not the ones shooting any human on sight! We’re not a bunch of savage murderers!”

“We can’t trust you not to take our stuff! It’s either that or you rob us blind and we’ll die as surely as if you slit our throats!” You had pushed each other to the middle of the cave, right under the single shaft of sunlight. Your voices echoed off the walls, filling the space with overlapping noise.

“And of course, your first instinct as a human is violence! You couldn’t negotiate to save your stupid hide!” The elf leaned over you, his face barely apart from yours. “All you know is how to shoot and ki-”

Something underneath you groaned. The ground shifted, buckling under the elf’s feet. He wobbled. Directly beneath him, the floor of the cave shuddered. You backed away, skittering toward the wall. The cave floor was unstable. Perhaps it hadn’t been able to take the weight of the two of you standing together. Perhaps your voices had been loud enough to shake something loose. Or perhaps it was just the last straw on the camel’s back.

You saw a look of undisguised terror on the elf’s face as the floor on his side of the cave crumbled away.

It was pure instinct on your part. Perhaps it would have said more to your character if it hadn’t been, if you had made the conscious decision to save an enemy. But it wasn’t. You just saw his look of fear as he went down and lunged to catch him.

Your good hand caught one of his. For a horrifying moment, he kept going, fingers sliding through yours. Just in time, his other hand snapped up and caught your wrist. His fingers were slick with sweat, but he managed to hold on.

You groaned. You weren’t quite lying on top of it, but the position you were in was putting your weight onto your bad arm. It took all your strength to just hold onto him. There was no way you were going to be able to pull him back up and if this went on, he was going to pull you over the edge too. But you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t let him fall.

His legs scrambled at the crumbling ledge beneath him. “I can’t pull you up,” you said. “Can you try to climb out?”

“I’m trying!” He pulled on your arm, trying to climb you like a rope. You kicked your legs furiously, trying to find something to anchor yourself with.

One of your feet caught on a chunk of stone. You wrapped your legs around it, hooking your foot around your ankle. Slowly, sick with the agonizing pain in your arm, you pulled yourself away from the ledge.

He scrambled up onto solid ground as soon as he could grip the ledge. Both of you scurried away from the edge of the pit, huddling together against the wall. Now that your adrenaline was fading, the pain in your arm was crawling to new levels. You must have done something to it when you lunged for him. Cautiously, you probed the bone through the bandage. A coil of pain kicked you straight in the stomach. You rolled over and vomited bile over the ground.

When you were done, you sat back up, back pressed to the wall. Your skin was clammy and fine tremors wracked your frame.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at the elf. He was pressed against the wall, smudged with dirt and a few smears of blood. His eyes were focused on you, wide as saucers. “You saved my life.”

You spat a bit of stomach acid onto the dirt. “Yeah. So, I guess it’s all evened out now, huh? Maybe you can stop yelling at me for almost killing you.”

He blinked at you. “No, I mean- why did you save me? If you wanted me dead, there was no better chance than that one.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know why I saved you. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw that you were scared and- I don’t know. It’s one thing to attack a trespasser. It’s another to just… let someone die.”

The elf stared at you for a moment, the whites of his eyes bright against the dirty background of the cave. “Your arm,” he finally said, “is it… okay?”

You didn’t want to look at it. “I don’t know.”

“Sit back against the cave wall,” the elf said, waving his hand toward you. He crawled over to you, settling next to your injured arm. You turned your head away. “I’m going to unbind it. Please try not to kick me again.”

“No promises,” you said, trying to smile through your gritted teeth. You thought you caught a quiet huff of laughter as he bent over you.

Cold fingers delicately unwrapped the cloth bandages and removed the splint. The elf sucked in a sharp breath. Your stomach dropped. “That bad?”

“Um,” the elf said. “You sort of lay on top of it when you grabbed for me, right? I think you, um. I think you pushed the bone a little further out of alignment.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly. There was a measure of unsteadiness to it. “It’s hard to see down here, so maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“How bad does it look?” you asked.

The elf grimaced. “It’s… swelling. And the bruises are bad. And the bone’s out of place again.”

“Fix it,” you said. “You shoved the bone back in place before, do it again.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I can stabilize it, but you’ve jostled it more out of place than it was before. I don’t want to risk damaging anything else.”

You leaned your head back against the wall. “Just do what you can.”

He at least attempted for gentleness this time, but you still had to grit your teeth against the sheer awfulness of the pain. His fingers were nimble, and the warmth of his body against yours was almost comforting. When he leaned away from you, you found yourself missing the contact.

The elf was apparently reluctant to part as well, because even after he finished with your arm, he stayed next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. “We need to get out of here,” he said.

“Yes. We established that already. The problem is how,” you said. “I can’t climb out of here even without a broken arm, and unless you’re hiding some impressive wall-scaling abilities, you can’t either.”

Something tapped against your side. You looked down to see the elf’s tail twisting and coiling on the ground. Occasionally, the fluffy tip would hit you, though it seemed to be more incidental than intentional. “No, I can’t. Especially not with an arrow wound.” He moved a hand over it absently. “But there has to be a way out.” He got up and started pacing along the wall, touching it with his palm. His tail waved behind him, swinging from side to side.

“Maybe,” you said, unconvinced. “Or maybe not.”

He fumbled along the wall for a few minutes, before lashing out with a kick. “Dammit! The floor crumbled so damn easy, why won’t these walls?”

He kicked the wall again and again, sending tiny stones skittering across the floor. You watched, wide eyed. The elf slammed a particularly hard kick into the wall and yelped, then started hopping around, clutching his foot. He slumped to the ground, mumbling and cursing.

“You all right?” you asked.

“Just bruised,” he groused. “Sorry. I get grouchy when I’m hungry.”

“We’ve got some more supplies,” you said, nudging the bag closer to him. He snorted, pushing the bag back over to you.

“Not that kind of hungry. There’s no light down here, except that tiny little patch.” He pointed up to the distant hole in the ceiling. The direct sunlight filtered down into the gaping hole in the ground. “I’ve been trying to meditate, but it’s just not effective without the sun. It’s making my skin crawl.” He gave an affected shudder before glancing at you. “How are you managing it? You’ve barely been affected by night-sickness at all.”

You stared at him. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about?”

The elf looked back at you with a similarly confused expression. “Night-sickness. Do humans call it something different? You know, when you haven’t done your light meditation for too long?” You shook your head. “Do you have totally different words for all of it? Look, how do you process the light from the sun into energy?”

“How do we- what?” You were staring to get frustrated. “You’re not making any sense. We don’t convert light into energy or whatever.”

“Then how do you get energy?” the elf said. He sounded well and truly bewildered, like the very idea was completely unheard of.

“We eat food? You know what eating food it. I’ve seen you eat.” Several expressions flitted across the elf’s face, from confusion to surprise to something like guilt.

“You only eat food?” he asked. You nodded. “Ah. That, er. Explains some things.”

“What does it explain?” you asked. “And what do you mean we only eat food? What else would we eat? Rocks?”

The elf chuckled weakly. “Then you would be a lot better position down here. No. Elves need sunlight. Without it, we get sick, and we can die. Food is still necessary, but we don’t need much. We have maybe one meal a day and we meditate to gain our energy other times.” His tail hooked around his chest, curling and twitching. “We can eat more food, but it’s… wasteful, I suppose. Or maybe overly indulgent.”

Several ideas were dawning upon you in the same moment. “That’s why elves don’t have farms. You don’t need them. You don’t eat much, so you can afford to just forage every now and then and gather what you want. Human farms must look greedy to you.”

“It did come across as a little…” He made a vague hand gesture. “A little gluttonous, perhaps. To have so much food and to be so possessive over it felt like an overreaction.”

“But we need it,” you said. “We got dangerously close to famine last winter.”

The elf shrank back. “We didn’t know! We don’t grow our own food! I mean, it’s not fun to go without food, but we can live. The idea of planting and growing living things that only you can harvest is just weird! You plant things because you like seeing things grow and get healthier, not because you have to.”

You kneaded at your forehead. “Are you telling me the war between our species for years has been because we didn’t know you guys eat sunlight?”

“We don’t eat sunlight,” the elf said. “It’s more of an energy transfer process. And you could have asked.”

“You could have asked before stealing our food!”

“We didn’t know it was stealing!” The elf had drawn closer to you as you were talking, and you were suddenly overly aware of how close you were. You could feel the heat of his body against yours. A wave of buzzing heat spread over your body from the pit of your stomach. Your eyes were unsettlingly drawn to his lips. His upper lip was fuller than his bottom one. Your mind wandered, almost casually, over to how it would feel to kiss the upper lips, to explore it with your teeth-

“Okay, get off me!” You struggled away from him. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but you thought there was a red flush staining his cheekbones. “It doesn’t matter how this whole thing started. Maybe, if we can tell people that this whole thing started with a misunderstanding, we can get them to end it. Or at least stop being so belligerently violent toward each other.”

The elf glanced at his injured shoulder. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. But, uh. We’re still kind of trapped. We’re not going to be stopping a war if the only thing people find are our skeletons.”

“Which means we need to find a way out of here,” you said. You stood up, your legs wobbling. You hadn’t realized exactly how tired you were. Apparently falling into a pit, breaking your arm, and then rescuing the guy you had previously tried to kill was an exhausting process.

The elf stepped closer to you, eyeing you like he was worried you were going to fall over. “I looked around. I didn’t see anything.”

“Might as well give it another pass,” you said. “Not like we’ve got that much else to do.” You started to pace along the wall, trying to feel for any weak points that might lead to a tunnel. The elf stayed by your side, tail flicking around your ankles.

No matter how closely you examined the walls, they never became anything other than solid stone. “There isn’t a way out,” the elf said. He was starting to look despondent, slumping against the wall. “I’m going to die down here.”

“No one’s going to die down here any time soon,” you said. “We just need to figure out a way out of here! There must be one.”

“Or the only way out is the same way we fell in, which we can’t get to.” He watched as you kicked at the wall some more. “Don’t bother. It’s not going to work. If I couldn’t get out, you’re not going to do it.”

“Don’t be an asshole. Do people let you get away with this all the time at your home just because you’ve got a pretty face?” you snapped, then realized what you’d said. The elf, apparently unable to believe his ears, stared back at you.

“Er- what?”

“Never mind! I wasn’t thinking. It’s the pain. It’s making me loopy.” You gave another kick toward the wall. It remained as solid as ever. “Fuck!”

The elf stood back up. “Kicking solid rock isn’t going to help. You’re so stubborn. Are all humans like that?”

“Well, we don’t all give up like elves do, apparently,” you snorted.

“You waste your energy with fruitless endeavors instead,” the elf replied. He walked over to you, examining the wall. He still managed to have the refined air of an elf, even after spending a while at the bottom of a cave. “It’s not going to collapse.”

You staggered back from the wall. Your leg ached and the wall had suffered absolutely no damage. “Well, we can’t just stand here and do nothing.” You paced away from the wall and toward the pit. You couldn’t see the bottom, though it was already so dark it could have only been a few feet down. A breeze rustled your hair.

The elf sat down next to you. “You’re not thinking of throwing yourself off, are you?”

“No. You could push me, though. If you’re annoyed I’m still here.” It was a very weak attempt at a joke. The elf didn’t smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, actually,” he said. “Even if you’re the one who got me into this. I don’t want to be alone down here.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I, uh. Don’t mind having you down here either. I mean. I’m not happy you’re going to die too. If I could get you out, I would.”

“Me too. I just wish someone knew what we did. Maybe it could help people,” the elf said. His shoulder pressed against yours as he leaned closer to you. You leaned back into him. The contact was nice. He smelled oddly good, despite everything. Another breeze drifted up from the cavern beneath you, stirring your hair.

The elf went stiff next to you. “Did you feel that?”

“The breeze? Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

“It smells like the forest! Like fresh air! There must be a way out down there!” The elf scrambled to his feet. “If we can just climb down, we can get out.”

You looked uncertainly into the pit. The sides were jagged, with plenty of hand and footholds, but you weren’t sure how far you would be able to make it. “You’ll have to go on ahead,” you said. “I can’t scale the wall, not with my arm like this.”

The elf’s face fell. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“If you can get out, you can get help. I’ll be fine.”

The elf’s tail coiled around his legs and his ears twitched frantically. “No. I’m not going to leave you.”

“You’re going to have to! I can’t climb like this, and you’re even more of an idiot than I thought if you’re going to stay here just because I can’t get out. Go!” You waved your hands at him, ushering him toward the edge of the pit.

“No.” The elf planted his feet, fingers curling into fists. “I can get you out of here. You saved my life. I’m not going to abandon you.”

“Technically, I save your life after trying to kill you. So, I would say that sort of evens the whole thing out,” you said. The elf rolled his eyes, glancing around the small cave. “Look, the longer we stand around here chatting, the less time you have to get out of here-”

“No. I have an idea,” the elf said. He fumbled with the hem of his clothes, tearing it into strips. Most of his stomach was exposed, showing off toned muscle. You deliberately did not look at him. It was not difficult because he was definitely not appealing to look at. “Come here.” You took a cautious step closer to him. “No, come here.” He seized your arm and tugged you next to him. “Stand still.” He took the cloth strips, which he’d tied into a long band, and wrapped them around both of your waists, tying you together.

“What’s this going to do?” you asked. One of the elf’s arms fell loosely around your waist, trying to steady himself against you. An odd jolt jumped through your core. You froze.

“It’s a tether between us. I should be strong enough to support at least some of your weight. You can use your good arm to climb and I can support your other side.” You tried to twist your head to look at him, but that put your faces dangerously close together. You looked away. “But we’ll have to work together.”

“I can do that,” you said. The elf’s hand pressed to your back. His tail twined around your leg for a moment.

“Okay. Just watch your step.” It took some careful negotiating of your positions to start scaling down the cliff, but you managed. Your arm screamed with pain, but the elf’s body pressed against yours, bracing you. Climbing down the rock wall was a slow, uncomfortably process. Once or twice you slipped and the elf had to pause and brace himself to support you, and he even slipped once and you had to bear his weight. It was difficult, but you managed to coordinate your movements. Without speaking, you and the elf moved as one. His tail looped around your waist. It couldn’t support your weight, but it was comforting to feel the elf’s presence.

The wall went on and on. Your arm ached from the jostling alone, and you kept bumping it against outcropping stones. The elf’s breathing had taken on a ragged edge- clearly he was struggling to hold up both of you.

“Can you tell how much further?” you asked. The elf squirmed, trying to get a look at the ground.

“No. It’s really dark. Could be a couple feet. Could be further. I don’t know.” The elf leaned closer to you. “This may have been a bad idea. I… I can’t hold on much longer.”

“I know.” Your own arm was trembling. Going up was no longer an option. There was no way you’d make it back to the top. The only hope was that the ground wasn’t much further away.

The elf moved down a couple more feet. You could tell his moves were laborious. Maybe if he hadn’t been helping you, he would be doing fine, but supporting another person was taking its toll. “I’m sorry,” you said. “This is all my fault.”

“Yeah,” the elf said, “it kind of is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “At least we know the reason our species had a feud, though. Even if no one else ever does, we’ll know the truth.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I’m sorry I shot you and I’m sorry we ended up down here. But I’m gad we met.”

The elf’s tail curled tighter around your waist. There was almost no light, so you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him next to you. Just the two of you, huddled together in the dark. Even that small comfort felt precious. “I’m glad, too.”

As he moved to take another step down, the foothold he was using crumbled. You heard him yelp and felt him scramble to regain his grip, but his movements were clumsy and fumbling. The belt at your waist tugged and you tried to brace yourself, but it didn’t matter. You were tired and your weak grip was no longer enough. The elf’s weight pulled your grip free and you tumbled into the dark.

You barely had opened your mouth to scream when you slammed into the elf, landing squarely on top of him. He huffed out a breath and wheezed awkwardly as you tried to figure out what had just happened.

“What was that?” you groaned, struggling to push yourself up. There was just enough light to see by, which meant that you got a good look at the elf’s face, which was directly under yours, as he stared back at you. Your noses were almost close enough to touch. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest where you were lying on top of him.

“Um,” you squeaked. The elf didn’t seem to be processing the situation any better. He stared at you, eyes wide.

You recovered first. “We lived!” You scrambled up, wobbling a little. Your legs didn’t seem to be fully aware of the fact that you were alive. The elf made his way to his feet, equally unsteady.

“And you feel that, right?” The elf’s ears were twitching and his tail was waving in a constant, smooth motion. He tilted his head back, focused on the airflow of the cave. “The breeze is stronger. This way.” He took off at a light jog. You jogged after him, arm cradled against your chest.

There was a tiny glow of light in the cave that grew brighter and brighter the further you traveled. The tunnel sloped upward, your calves burning as you continued up the increased grade. The elf kept glancing back at you, making sure you were following him.

You turned a small bend and the light pouring into the cave became blinding. Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut. One of your hands fumbled and caught on the elf’s arm. He grabbed you back, and, clinging to each other, you plunged into the undergrowth of the forest.

Your eyes were slow to adjust to the brilliance, but apparently the elf’s were not, because he made a choked noise of horror. You squinted, eyes watering. There were dark shapes around you, humanoid shapes. Relief flooded through you. “It’s okay,” you said. “It’s oka-”

The pointy end of a spear hovered right in front of your chest. You froze. The elf, despite being about an inch taller than you, was trying to retreat behind you. You shifted to stand more directly in front of him, good arm out.

Now that your eyes were more properly adjusted to the light, you could see who was gathered in front of you. It was a hunting party, all four of them holding enormous spears and very ready to plunge those spears into the chest of an interloping elf and anyone who defended him.

“Hey,” you said, keeping your voice was slow and soothing as you could manage. “Guys. It’s me.”

The spear wavered. The man in front, Elias, frowned. “Step away from the elf,” he said. “We can take you back to town, get you some treatment.”

The elf was gripping your clothes tightly. His eyes were wide and he glanced at you uncertainly. You could read the terror in his eyes, the utter fear that you were going to hand him over to the humans.

You braced yourself. “No. Look. There was an accident. He helped me, even after I tried to kill him. He comes with me.”

Bewildered looks were exchanged between the hunting party. “He’s trespassing,” Elias said, but there was no longer as much conviction in his voice. You drew yourself up, trying to look as authoritative and confident as possible.

“He saved my life. And he had important news for us. He stays with me.” You ushered the elf fully behind you, daring the hunters to get around you. They looked at Elias uncertainly, waiting for his say so. He looked back at them. Already, they were lowering their spears, and Elias seemed to sense that they were no longer going to attack confidently.

“All right,” he said. “But the elf stays under guard.”

“I stay with him,” you said. The hunting party fell in around you. The elf squeezed your hand. You could feel a world of gratitude through that small motion.

You refused to leave the elf, even as they questioned him and treated your arm. Explaining about what you had discovered took some time, and there was certainly no small amount of skepticism. But after hours of waiting and repeating yourself, a delegation of elves entered the town.

“Guess you’ll be heading back home soon,” you said. The elf nodded.

“I’m glad of that,” he said. “Though I think… I think I’ll miss you. Isn’t that strange? Missing the person who tried to kill you?”

“Just as strange as missing the person you tried to kill,” you said. “I’m glad I met you, Viatas,” You had learned his name soon after the other elves had arrived.

“I’m glad I met you, too.” He leaned in and gave you a gentle hug, careful not to disturb your arm. He was warm and he smelled surprisingly nice and your heartbeat pounded in your ears as he squeezed you.

“We’ll see each other again,” you promised. “Now that we’re actually talking, I think things are going to get better.”

“I hope so,” said Viatas. He waved to you once more before following the elvish delegation into the forest. You watched him until he had completely vanished between the trees.

Three weeks later, you paced around the entrance to the cave. The sun was low in the sky, washing the area around you in an amber glow.

The foliage rustled. You froze, eyes locking onto the spot where it shifted. There was a moment of silence, then Viatas emerged, hands raised.

“Not going to shoot me again, are you?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Still can’t hold the bow, actually. My arm’s not fully healed yet.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Viatas sat down next to you on a fallen log. “I didn’t make it worse, did I?”

“No. They said I probably never would have been able to use it properly if you hadn’t set it. It’s just a bad break. You saved my life and my arm.” You nudged his leg playfully and he laughed. “I’m glad you got my message.”

“I was glad to hear from you. I’ve been worried. I mean, things are going well in my home, but I wasn’t sure how your people were taking anything. You’ve been all right, haven’t you?” He gave you a concerned look and you nodded reassuringly.

“I’m fine. Actually, I asked you here to talk about something. I just got assigned as an ambassador to the elves.”

Viatas’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently an elf will come to my town and I’ll go to yours and that’s supposed to help with interspecies relations. So, uh. I’ll need some help when I go. And I figured that you’d be a good person to ask. I mean, you’re the only elf I really know.”

Viatas frowned. “You try to kill me, kick me when I try to help you, and my reward for getting you out of the cave you were going to die in is more work?”

You sputtered. “You don’t have to! I was just thinking I’d offer-”

Viatas rested a reassuring hand on your arm. “I’m kidding.” He drew closer. In the dim light, shadows played appealingly over his features. You found it a little hard to breathe all of a sudden. “I would love to work with you.” He drew closer still. “In fact, I’ve rather missed you-”

You closed the distance, pressing your mouth to his. He moved in the same moment, lips molding to yours.

An amount of time passed. You weren’t really paying attention to how long. But you broke apart eventually. “You’re better at that than I thought you’d be,” Viatas said in a quiet, awestruck voice.

“Yeah?” you said. “I think you need some more practice.”

“Oh?” Viatas lifted his brows. “Well, perhaps I should get some.”

“Yeah,” you said, leaning close to him. “I think you should.”

#exophilia #elf boyfriend #elf lover #monster boyfriend #enemies to lovers #monster lover

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sayonarasanity · 3 years

Text

Reverberation

Chapter V

link to AO3

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

notes: the song that will be mentioned in this chapter is She's a Rainbow by Lola Marsh and also here is the Spotify link. I highly recommend you to listen to it especially while reading that part. it's truly an incredible song

The first year of high school passed by in the blink of an eye. Between the adjustment of classes, advanced math, and literature, teachers of idiosyncratic character treats and a variety of teens in the class he didn’t even understand the period between September and June. If he was being honest there wasn’t much noteworthy difference between middle school and high school except for the lessons and maybe some physical changes among his peers as well as himself. Save for the height part. Apparently, he wasn’t gifted like that giant Mike or the very sophisticated Erwin Smith.

There was nothing much to do during the summer break. He worked alongside his uncle in the market to at least gain some money and not spend his whole time lying on his bed, sweaty and gasping for a breath while a single leaf on a tree begged for a tiny breeze to make it wiggle. He read some books, watched some TV shows, played soccer with the other boys in class; Mike, Erwin, Oluo, Guther, Eld and even Moblit when or if they were around. Went to the beach with the same squad in addition to girls like Petra, Nifa, Nanaba and Hanji.

Most of his time was spent with Hanji, of course. On the roof, in the attic, in each other’s rooms, sometimes at the library—because the heat didn’t stop Hanji from being a complete nerd—and sometimes she helped him in the market while stuffing his mind with countless ��mind-blowing topics.

And so came the second year of high school.

And it took Hanji only two weeks to be late for the first class in the morning.

“I can’t believe you actually slept in,” Levi told her after she came inside the class during the break, gasping, her face flushed red possibly from running, hair dishevelled and absolutely not combed, and sat down on her desk in front of him.

She was trying to adjust her breaths as she turned over to face him. The dispersed, brown strands were covering her face, some of them had stuck on her reddened cheek and forehead. After the not so successful haircut, Levi had given her, she had also gotten bangs. Courtesy of her mother. “I was reading a book last night.”

“And?” He raised a brow.

She pushed the glasses up, and leaned in closer, putting an elbow on top of his desk. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“What kind of book could possibly make you stay awake all night?”

“It’s called The Blind Owl.” She shivered as if a chill had gone through her body. “It was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read. And the thing is I couldn’t stop reading it because it was also ridiculously intriguing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes under her glasses. “It cost me my sleep though.”

“That bad, huh?” Levi asked, but it was obvious from the dark circles under her eyes.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad actually. It was masterfully written for sure. It was just—”

“Disturbing.”

“Yes. There is no other word to explain it.” She ran a hand through her dispersed hair, but her fingers got stuck between the knots. Then she looked at her wrist and groaned frustrated. “I forgot my hair tie.”

One of the things the almost six years of friendship with Hanji had thought him was to collect the items she had a habit of forgetting, mostly in his room. He had a drawer full of her lost, black hair ties. He kept a few on his pencil case or sometimes, like today, he carried one of them on his wrist. “Here,” he said extending it to her.

“What would do without you?” she whined as she took the tie from him.

“You wouldn’t survive a day,” Levi pointed out. It wasn’t even half-joke.

“Agreed,” she nodded. She had finished tying up her hair. Now her face was more on display, the flush on her cheeks was nearly gone. Levi realized that her nape was not covered with the too-short strands that couldn’t make it into her sloppy, little ponytail.

His hand moved instinctively, naturally even. “Your hair has grown long again,” he told her with a frown. And when his fingers touched her bare nape, she winced quite clearly for his frown to get deeper. He retreated his hand upon her reaction.

Her hand held the place he had barely touched seconds ago and when she noticed his expression she laughed. “God, your fingers are cold.”

Levi folded his hand as a fist, pressing his fingertips on his palm to see if his fingers were indeed cold as she had said. His body temperature was low, it was no news to him but at the moment his fingertips was not that cold for her to give such a reaction. Maybe because she had run here it was her body which was unnaturally hot, he reasoned, not really satisfied but he would accept it for the time being.

“Do you want me to cut it?”

“No,” she objected, avoiding his stare. “I’ll use it like this for a while.”

Her hand went on rubbing her neck, it seemed like an almost unintentional, absent-minded motion at this point.

“I made some research,” Hanji said when the silence got a little awkward for their standards. She then looked through her bag with both hands and slammed a wrinkled piece of paper on his desk.

“What’s this?” He examined her inelaborate handwriting but couldn’t understand the overall concept of what was written. Meanwhile, Hanji brought a pen over the page and underlined two words that were written in capital letters.

ROSE and SINA.

“These two are the best universities of the country,” she started to explain. “Both in terms of education and in terms of different opportunities for students. Student clubs are very much active also the campuses are huge.”

Levi had heard of the universities of course. They were named after the cities they were located in. Sina was almost three hours away from their town and Rose was even further in the opposite direction. But they had to leave the town at some point if they wanted to receive a good education. As Hanji had told the two of them were probably their best options and if they manage to keep their grades high enough there was a chance for both of them to make it into the same university. But, which one?

“But?”

“But” she carried the pen over the word Sina and drew a circle around it. “Since Sina is a technical university, I think it is a far better option for us considering the departments we want to study.”

Levi hummed thoughtfully. She did have a point.

“Also,” she continued, eyes glittering. “Great professors like Keith Shadis, Theo Magath and Darius Zackly are teaching there. Imagine the lectures…” she shrieked with excitement and wiggled in her seat. “It’s gonna be so fun!”

Levi shook his head at her quite early thrill and snatched the pencil out of her hand. He drew an arrow to the word Sina and wrote elegantly above: GOAL. “Sina it is then.”

Hanji took the pencil back and while nodding she scratched the word he had just written and instead, bringing the pencil a little to the crosswise she wrote: DREAM.

She looked at him then as if to confirm, with a bright smile on her lips and eyes full of the glitter of the dream she held so close to her heart. It was contagious. Levi felt his lips curling up, and maybe a tiny bit of that lustre in her eyes had reached out to his own. And he thought that maybe it wasn’t that hard after all.

How naïve, a sly, foreign voice whispered in the back of his mind. Little boy, how naïve.

“So, what’s going on between you two?”

Hanji lifted her eyebrows upon Nifa’s question and moved her stare to whom the question was directed. Nanaba gulped her bite with seemingly a little more force than necessary and blinked innocently at Nifa. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Nifa wiggled her brows, smirking mischievously at their suffering friend. “You and Mike.”

Petra hid a chuckle behind her hand as Hanji bit her cheek inside to stop her smile from shaping so obviously. They were sitting in the backyard of the school on an arbour for lunch. There was still for about half an hour until their next class and from the looks of it, Nifa had decided to use it for some gossip.

“Nothing,” Nanaba answered nonchalantly then she brought the straw of her peach juice to her mouth and took a very long sip. Hanji didn’t miss the faint blush on her cheekbones. “We’re friends.”

“You’re a little too close for being friends, don’t you think?” Nifa asked with a sweet voice, dropping her chin on top of her intertwined fingers, smiling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Nanaba brushed her off, taking another bite from her sandwich.

“Stop tormenting her, Nifa,” Hanji interrupted just as Nifa was about to say something else. “She can tell us when she feels like it.” Hanji then smirked at a very pissed Nanaba, who was glaring at her so hard Hanji thought she could catch flames just by responding to her stare.

Suddenly, someone dropped something in front of her with a loud “pat” and Hanji looked down, startled, to a packet of chocolate milk, then looked up to a frowning Levi.

“Did you eat?”

“Yep!” Hanji rested her chin on her palm and smiled at him. “Did you?”

He nodded silently and gestured at the milk standing on the wooden table. “You’re gonna pay me back for that later.”

“Stingy,” she murmured as he turned his back to her. Hanji saw the other boys gathered up around a bench a little away from where she and the girls sat. And before Levi went too far away, she shouted behind him, “When shall we meet again?”

He glanced at her above his shoulder. “After school,” he said, flatly.

“Come on, Levi!” She lifted her chin from her palm, disappointed. “You should’ve said “when the hurly-burly is done”, I thought you were better than that!”

He turned his whole body to her this time, walking backwards. A smirk played on one corner of his lips, midday sun caught his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. “And you should’ve asked, “in thunder, lightning or in rain?” I thought you were better than that , genius.”

Take him and cut him out in the little stars.

Levi was beautiful. Hanji recalled the day she had first realized it, the faint yellow leaves and the crackling sound of fire. The realization had hit hard, and she couldn’t have understood the reason why right away. It was startling that was for sure but after some thorough and logical consideration, she had decided that it was all about being a teenager.

It was that simple. Thinking a boy was beautiful was natural. Besides, it wasn’t just Levi. Erwin, for instance, was attractive. With a sharp chin, bright, blue eyes and that shiny yellow hair that always looked so soft like cotton. He wasn’t necessarily beautiful though but attractive still, handsome even.

And he will make the face of Heaven so fine.

Levi turned his back to her again and Hanji snorted, opening the straw of her chocolate milk. “He got me bad.”

When she put the straw between her lips for a long sip, she realized the silence that has settled on the table and when she took a glance above her glasses, she saw the three other girls looking at her.

“What?” she asked after gulping.

“What’s with you two?”

“Huh?”

It was Nifa again and this time the question was directed at her. “You and Levi?”

Hanji blinked, trying to reason her question. “What about us?”

“You seem close,” Petra added instead of Nifa. Her hazel eyes curious as she observed Hanji. “Like real close.”

Hanji frowned and pushed her glasses back to their proper place. “We are best friends.” They seriously hadn’t understood it for a year?

“I bet everyone thinks you’re dating,” Nifa said laughing.

Oh? “That’s ridiculous,” Hanji said, shaking her head. “Why would I date my best friend?”

Nifa shrugged, and Petra looked thoughtful. “How long have you been friends?”

Hanji didn’t know why but she felt her stomach curl. “Since we were eleven.”

Petra hummed and the conversation seemed to be over like that. Hanji chewed the plastic stick thoughtfully and with distress, she couldn’t find the reason why. The curl stayed solid in her stomach, sharp and insistent. Absently she noticed that Petra was staring somewhere with a strange expression in her eyes and when Hanji followed her stare, she saw Levi standing in front of the bench the other boys were sitting. Mike who was standing next to him had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he looked content, his features relaxed, his black hair looked smooth touching his forehead.

That all the world will be in love with the night.

Goddamn Juliet, she thought bitterly, frowning she took her eyes away from him. Goddamn Shakespeare.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

It was Wednesday afternoon on a nice autumn day. Near them was a tree slowly getting peeled off its leaves, and the clouds were reflecting the orange light the sun created. It was also reflecting on her ginger hair, making it shine almost yellow.

“I, uh…” Petra cleared her throat, squeezed her hair behind her ear as the blush that had appeared on her cheeks gradually became more visible. “This is harder than I expected.”

Levi raised his brows. He had been wondering what Petra wanted to talk to him ever since she asked him if they could meet after school in the backyard this morning. He had found it a little awkward because it had felt like she wanted to talk to him in private and he couldn’t have thought of any reason why she would wish for that.

“You look nervous,” he told her.

“Well, of course, I am,” Petra laughed, not a cheerful one. “I am trying to…”

She let out a sharp breath as if she was angry at herself and she wasn’t looking at him too. Her eyes were scanning their feet, her fingers were fidgeting, brows furrowed.

And Levi was quietly getting an idea about why she wanted to talk to him.

“Just tell me,” He tried to encourage her, feeling his own heartbeat getting faster abruptly.

Finally, she looked up at him, her cheeks painted crimson and she took a long, deep breath before she said, “Would you like to go to the cinema with me?”

“Oh,” he said.

Not the kind of reaction he should’ve given apparently. Petra bit her lower lip anxiously at first, searching his eyes. He must be pretty shocked for she looked a little discouraged upon his reaction. But within seconds she gathered herself up, her shoulders held high.

“I… liked you since the seventh grade,” she said, the blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, but she continued to be resolute without looking anywhere else than him. “And I thought that there is nothing wrong with asking a boy out if that boy doesn’t seem to be doing it anytime close.”

Levi felt his own cheeks heating up. Admittedly, he had never realized Petra had such feelings for him. “Sorry.”

Petra laughed, somewhat forcefully. “It’s okay,” she gulped, and a weak smile vibrated on her lips. “Just don’t be harsh if you’re gonna say no.”

Levi considered her offer quietly. Petra had always been a good friend and she was a nice person too. Kind, tidy and even funny. She loved painting and drawing and was pretty gifted at them as well. And she smelled fresh, Levi guessed it was because of the softener she used on her clothes, her hair was soft, and her eyes were pretty.

“When do you want to go?”

Said pretty eyes glittered as she beamed at him. For a second, in the back of his mind, he saw a very similar image belonging to another girl with auburn hair and hazel-brown eyes who had a smile that reminded him of the rainbow after rain and sun.

“What about this Friday after school?” Petra asked, excitedly.

“Sure,” Levi responded, trying to smile and ignore the weird feeling in his stomach.

When he stepped into the roof, the night was chilly, the sky was full of transparent, quietly moving clouds, the stars were shining behind them, the Wanning Gibbous was hanging low on the horizon, and Hanji was standing on the edge of the roof, her head laid backwards.

Levi didn’t even know if he breathed, his heart jumped to his throat as he threw his schoolbag to the ground and walked closer to her from behind cautiously. “Hanji, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Watching the sky,” she replied, smiling.

Levi felt a muscle move on his jaw; his heart was beating so loud it almost hurt his ears. He focused on adjusting his breaths. In and out. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get back down.”

Hanji shrugged and Levi nearly had a heart attack right then and there. He felt his eyes widen, and his breath hitched. “I feel closer to the clouds like this.”

“Hanji,” he took slow, careful steps towards her. The night breeze was toying with her dispersed hair, her face was tranquil, her eyes never left the sight of the clouds. The smile that was drawn on her lips was unmoving like it was craved there by the hands of a masterful sculptor. And he watched her, his heart still beating fast and loud, his breaths irregular, and his eyes wide, and he thought about—

Stars

how free she looked at that moment like she belonged to the sky, the stars and the moon. As if they shone for her only.

hide your fires.

Brown hair and brown eyes but Hanji was luminous. She kept the colours hidden, had a brush and a palette ready in her hand. The murky night did nothing but to contrast the light, she had a way with the world which made her stood out among the dullest of sounds and faces. Even on top of a derelict building, she was—

Let not light see—

the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He grabbed her wrist, inhaling hard and thick then he drew her back with a quick move of his arm. Her body turned and crashed against him, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, but he kept his balance, wrapping his arms around her waist securely, without any intention of letting go. He vaguely heard the surprised shriek Hanji made upon his unexpected move. And he half-expected her to push him back, to laugh it off and to say that he was being dramatic again. That nothing was going to happen anyway, it wasn’t like she was going to jump.

Yet instead, her arms circled his neck as she rested her cheek on his head and at that very moment Levi realized that he had never thought of losing her, of what would happen if she were to leave his life. Just like he had never imagined a day without the sun rising. The thought was uninvited and unwelcomed, and it cropped a fear in his heart so profound, he drew a shivering breath in before he buried his face on her neck. Then he pushed that thought deep down to the dungeon in his head never to see daylight again.

“I’m okay, you know,” Hanji spoke after seconds.

“Stupid,” he said, holding her tighter. “Stupid four-eyes.”

“Mm,” she muttered, amused. Then she started to move left and right making him follow her movements as if they were dancing. “I’m going to let all the world know that Levi Ackerman cares for me.”

Levi placed his forehead on her shoulder, pressing hard. “Someone needs to care for your sorry ass, or you’ll drop it down a goddamn building.”

She laughed, and it felt so good to hear it he immediately craved the sound soon as it faded away. Hanji stopped moving afterwards, then put her hands on his shoulder to push him slightly back. He withdrew reluctantly but kept his hands on either side of her waist not ready to let go just yet.

Her eyes were somewhat misty as she watched him, as the sharp peak of a mountain lost behind a grey fog. Levi frowned at her, searching for a sturdy branch to hold and to obtain some kind of a clue about what she was thinking. He came back empty-handed, and Hanji snapped out of it soon after, smiling at him brightly and warm. Her hair was all over her face, her glasses were askew, and he brought a hand up to fix them.

Then he flicked her forehead instead.

“Ouch!” She exclaimed, touching the slightly damaged skin.

“That was for almost giving me a heart attack,” Levi said nonchalantly and walked past her to grab his schoolbag. Then he sat down, bag between his legs as he searched for the snacks he bought after school.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” Hanji muttered as she placed herself next to him. “But you were just being dramatic. I wasn’t going to jump anyway.”

So, here was the thing, he needed to tell Hanji.

But he didn’t know how. Through all those years they had been friends, there had never been a secret among them. He knew everything about her. From the fact that she had fed a frog in her room when she was only seven without telling neither of her parents and how she accidentally killed the poor animal by forgetting to feed it properly. And to the very first crush, she secretly had on a boy who didn’t even know who she was when she was ten. Each and every detail in between had been craved in his head, everything about her was a book he had learnt by heart, and he knew that for her it was the same.

He didn’t understand why he was so unwilling now about telling her about Petra. Frankly, he was going to tell her yesterday but when he saw her standing on the edge of the goddamn roof, he had forgotten all about it in a second. Thursday, which was today, he couldn’t have found a chance to talk to her alone and tomorrow was Friday. And he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do.

Levi traced the shadows on the ceiling with his eyes, lying on his bed. It was near eleven pm but he didn’t have any sleep. Should he call Hanji? But no. It wasn’t something he could tell on the phone. It would be absurd and out of nowhere—

His phone started to vibrate on the bedside table.

He jumped a little, surprised at hearing a sound other than the voices in his head then stared at the phone for a while until he decided that it was going to ring till he opened it. And so, he did.

“I thought you had fallen asleep,” Hanji spoke before him as he lied back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I was trying to,” he lied.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized without sounding a bit sincere. “But this is more important than your sleep so…”

He raised a brow. “What did you learn again?”

“A lot of things. But that is not the reason why I called.” Levi heard some clatter he guessed it was the pressing of the computer keys. “I found a new song.”

He exhaled, wearily. “Seriously?”

“Wait before you judge,” she said. “Do you remember the time when you said, this is going to sound weird but, I was a rainbow?”

“No.”

“I hate you,” she said, darkly. “It was our first time in the attic. I had told you about –”

“I know, Hanji.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I remember.”

She grunted and said some things he couldn’t quite pick clearly under her breath. “You don’t really deserve this but since I’m a nice person I’ll let you listen to it.”

He snorted, lips curling on the corners, and he waited for the song to start. And not long after, he heard the first notes, then a soft voice of a woman followed. He also heard Hanji accompanying quietly behind, murmuring the lyrics alongside. Then he closed his eyes to focus on the song properly.

Dearest, I'm broken

My body is unspoken

How could I be loved?

Wake up in the morning

Feeling uncertain

Like a burning old scar

For I remember

The joy I’ve had as a child

Various colours I’m hiding inside

She’s a rainbow

And I am

A difficult man

It was as if the song, the lyrics, the notes, the singer’s voice were each had little hooks, they captured his soul relentlessly. He felt captive, unable to move. The song made him feel way too many things, with an intensity that nearly choke him as he lied there. His throat felt tight, even after the song ended, notes faded, and all he could hear was Hanji’s regular breaths a complete opposite of how his heart pounded at the moment.

“So?” She asked when he was unable to speak. “What do you think?”

Levi cleared his throat, he needed to talk dammit. “It was nice.”

“Just nice?” She didn’t sound pleased at his response. “But you have to listen to it every day Levi so that you wouldn’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” Was she kidding?

“We don’t know where life would take us,” Hanji told him, her voice calm now. “It’s the reality of the world. I’m just guarantying myself.”

Oh, so she didn’t know? That no matter where life carried him, no matter how high and wild the waves would be it would change nothing. The sun would rise from the west, and all the world would crumble, melt and disappear. But he wouldn’t forget her.

“What if you forget me?” Levi redirected the question to her, wondering her answer.

“I wouldn’t,” she said, not hesitating.

“How do you know?”

“If I’m a rainbow then that would make you the sky, remember?” Some distinct shuffling came to his ears, and he imagined her lying on her side, the phone still on speaker resting on top of her pillow. “Whenever I look up at the sky, I will think about you.”

“Sappy,” he whispered, ignoring the aftershock her words caused.

She chuckled in response and yawned loudly. “Only for you, clean-freak.”

Friday after the last class ended Hanji gathered up her things quickly. It had been an incredibly long and tiring week. She couldn’t wait to spend some time with Levi on the roof, just talking about things that didn’t matter, things that were easy to speak of because they were still young and had years ahead to take them seriously.

She waited for Levi outside, leaning against the school building as he went to the bathroom. She busied herself with observing the exhausted students leaving the school borders, chattering between themselves. It was getting chilly and the black denim jacket she was wearing didn’t do a good job at protecting her. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to her palms to at least cover her hands. She spotted Petra a few inches away from where she was standing. She was walking back and forth, fiddling with a piece of paper she held in her hands. Hanji found it a little strange but shrugged, deciding it wasn’t her business.

Finally, among the rain of students that walked through the school gate, Levi appeared. His face and some parts of his hair damp, indicating that he had just washed his face.

“Feeling refreshed enough?” Hanji asked, smirking.

“Yeah,” Levi murmured, and he looked around briefly.

“Come on,” Hanji pushed herself up from the wall. “Let’s go. We better grab something to eat on the way. I’m starving.”

She had taken only a few steps when she heard Levi calling out to her quietly. “Hanji.”

“Mm?”

He appeared to be uneasy as he looked at her, brows knitted, and lips pressed. Curiosity rose within her swiftly as she expected the words he was about to say.

“I can’t come to the roof with you today.”

Of all the things she thought about that was the least, she had expected to hear. Her stomach started to burn again, and she imagined a cauldron inside. Burning so fiercely and it never promised anything good. “Why?” Hanji asked, sounding just as surprised as she possibly looked.

Levi’s eyes moved to somewhere above her shoulder. She wanted to trace his stare but was too busy observing his expression, a little anxious, tense and what? Embarrassed? But why?

“Levi?”

“I… am going to the cinema,” he blurted eventually, his eyes finding her again. “With Petra.”

Cinema… with Petra?

“As a date?” She sounded bewildered again as if she couldn’t believe her ears. It wasn’t something to be that surprised about considering their age, hormones and everything. But it was Levi. Levi… It had always been the two of them, now imagining him spending time alone with someone else—she hadn’t prepared herself for that.

“I guess,” Levi rubbed his neck. Oh, he was shy about it too? Was he excited, was he looking forward to it? Was he going to hold her hand as he held hers? Did he even like her? When had this thing happened anyway?

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He seemed guilty, and he should be too. They were best friends for a reason. If she wasn’t going to be the first one to know about his first date, what was the point to it?

“It happened just this Wednesday. I couldn’t find a proper time—”

“This Wednesday?” She tried not to reflect her disappointment in her voice. “It was two days ago, mind you. You had plenty of time.”

“Hanji—”

“Did you ask her out?” Hanji went on, not giving him any chance to speak. “How long have you liked her?”

“It’s not—” He frowned, his jaw tightened, and a blaze came to life in his eyes. “She asked me.”

“Oh? How brave!” She felt like laughing and somewhere deep inside she knew that she was exaggerating, that she should be happy for him instead. Yet the disappointment was much heavier, and it stood out so blatantly, so arrogantly that it didn’t give her any time to think reasonably.

“Hanji, don’t.” He stepped forward but she withdrew in an instant.

“Have a nice date,” she said, and she failed at hiding the sarcasm behind. And she thought she saw a flickering of hurt in his eyes but didn’t stay long enough to acknowledge it. With a final look she gave to a confused Petra, she walked out of school. And the cauldron bubbled, bubbled and it burned, and it hurt. Then Hanji wished it would turn the wildflower to ashes to its roots so that it wouldn’t spring again. Wishful thinking it was because the wildflower was already the reason why the flames come alive in the first place.

Hanji didn’t quite remember when or how but she was sitting on the swing on the park near Levi’s house, the park they had buried the dead bird all those years ago. Strange how the years passed. She felt old for some reason despite the fact that she was only sixteen and life hadn’t even started for her yet. But she yearned for that little girl now, playing snowball fight with a boy who drank a little too much tea and swore a little too much for their age. Then she cursed at herself for being so frail, for letting her emotions draw the road she would walk.

The streetlamp near the park had a weak light. It trembled from time to time, squeaking as if it was at death’s door. She pondered it was a good metaphor as to how she felt now. Exaggerating? Maybe. But Levi had become such a constant in her life, it felt like the time Jack had crashed her glasses. She remembered how blurry everything seemed and how dizzy she had felt.

“Hanji?”

She blinked and following the voice she lifted her eyes up from the ground. It was Erwin, standing in front of her, with a curious expression painted on his face. What was he doing here?

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Hanji shook her head, realizing that she had been blinking at Erwin absently. Then nodded, voicing a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

He sat down on the swing next to her, dropping his school bag on the ground. It was a funny sight. A boy of Erwin’s age and height sitting on a child swing. His legs were much too long for that, but he used them to move back and forth slowly.

“I was just passing by,” he said, shrugging. “What are you doing here alone? Where’s Levi?”

She didn’t need to be reminded of the fact that whenever someone saw one of them alone, they immediately wondered where the other was. I am acting like a child. Then she started to move back and forth herself, holding the chains on either side. “He is on a date,” she informed Erwin. “With Petra.”

Then the movements of her legs fastened to the point where she had to curl them so that they wouldn’t slow her down. She used her body against the wind, it ruffled her hair, and her hair blocked her vision. And she thought about Levi who was with Petra and Petra who was kind and pretty. Petra who had shiny hair which was always combed and tidy. Petra who was funny and nice and—

“Hanji!”

Ah, her vision was blurry. Had she dropped her glasses again?

“Hey, slow down!”

She couldn’t slow down but someone, Erwin, she remembered, made her. He was holding the sides of the swing, kneeling down in front of her, he looked into her eyes. Hanji noticed his eyes were a different kind of blue not so fierce like the winter ocean, but kind and worried at the moment. Yellow, thick eyebrows knitted, “Are you okay?” Erwin asked.

It was the second time he had asked the same question and it confused her a bit. Did she look that bad? “Yeah,” she confirmed. Her voice came out cracked.

Then Erwin reached out with his hand. Hanji waited silently as he wiped her cheek with his thumb and under her chin with his knuckles. His hand shone under the shrieking light of the streetlamp when he withdrew it, with tears, she realized with a startle. She lifted her hand then, her eyes wide and touched her damp cheek.

“I can walk you home if you’d like,” Erwin offered with a voice so gentle Hanji thought she hated it. Hated because she didn’t want pity when she was the one that had brought this upon herself.

She blinked at her wet fingers, her sight getting blurry again and used her other hand to adjust her glasses. She could walk herself home, and she opened her mouth to say that much to Erwin. But words betrayed her half-way and what came out was, “I’d appreciate that,” instead, as she accepted, silently. “Thank you.”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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satuguro · 4 years

Text

connections | prologue

IN WHICH: zuko and azula are expected to gain the trust of an earth kingdom city governor. the mission seems easy enough, that is, until the governor’s daughter comes into play.

PAIRING: zuko x earthbender! reader

INSPIRED BY: soldier, poet, king — the oh hellos, ophelia — the lumineers

NOTES: i’m not too sure about this one, and i kind of wrote this in the middle of the night when a strike of inspiration hit. i mixed some japanese culture with some filipino culture (i am filipino, so i had to ). nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!

his father gave him specific instructions prior to his arrival to hanusaka, an earth kingdom city.

zuko was expected to gain the trust of the family that ruled over the city; the hisui family. at the time he was given his ‘mission,’ zuko was apprehensive. why would the family trust them? they practically destroyed every earth kingdom village in their path, they’ve massacred thousands, and they’ve burned everything to the ground. zuko never once voiced his thoughts — his scar was a reminder of what would happen if he argued — but in his mind, he reminded himself that it was for good reason. he had his honor. now he had to act upon it.

the kingdom of hanusaka was beautiful. it stayed true to its name; flowers flourished from every corner, and floral trees hung heavily over its inhabitants. their deep green clothes contrasted with the bright colors of the flowers around them. they looked happy and content with their lives.

zuko stood stiffly alongside azula, wary eyes watching the citizens dance in the town square. their danced were different compared to the fire nation’s. their dance incorporated two long pieces of bamboo that was held by a person on each end. the people holding the bamboo were beating, tapping, and sliding the bamboo to the beat of the music while people of all ages danced upon them. it was mesmerizing how their feet missed the bamboo as the sticks came together, and how the flower petals on the ground floated with each movement.

they stood in the sidelines, aware of the looks the other earth kingdom citizens gave them. they were looking at them with unreadable expressions on their faces, but said nothing about their fire nation clothes. all zuko knew was that they weren’t welcome.

“it’s disgusting,” azula commented, flicking a flower petal off of her clothes. they had been only observing for 15 minutes before her boredom got to her. “i don’t understand why we have to endure the presence of these... people,” she spat, “we should’ve just burned this place to the ground. it would be quicker.”

“father wanted us to do this,” zuko hissed, glaring at his sister. he could feel his anger rising at the mere mention of burning the town to the ground, and he returned his gaze to the dancing people. their clothes flowed freely in the wind, making the petals around them float up high above their heads. they looked so peaceful.

he watched, his interest peaking as a hooded figure appeared from the shadows opposite of him. your bow and arrows were on your back, your movements mysterious as you slowly made your way into the crowd. you were blind to his gaze as you pulled your hood down, revealing your gleaming green eyes. people cheered around you, and one woman even placed a crown of intricately bended bamboo atop your head. you gave her a hug and grabbed her hand to join the dance in front of you, jumping in as if it was second nature.

“prince zuko, princess azula.” one of their guards greeted behind them, making them turn around. he bowed quickly, fear striking his heart at their cold looks. “governor akio has agreed to meet with you.”

┈┈ 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ┈┈

the hisui palace — though azula commented that it was barely a palace — was situated near the outskirts of the city, and was surrounded by deep forests that seemed to go on for miles. it stood tall, and would’ve sent a feeling of impending doom if it weren’t for the vines that climbed its walls, blooming various flowers.

“some palace,” azula snorted, crossing her arms and taking a second to star at the mansion as a whole. she raised her hand to catch a flower that had fallen from the trees above. her fingers were gentle agains the petals before she engulfed it in blue flames, letting the ashes float to the ground.

zuko rolled his eyes at her antics, choosing to walk ahead and into the mansion. the guards in front of the door looked at him with scowls, and a small prt of zuko wanted to call it quits and return home. they weren’t welcome here. they had caused these people so much pain; why would they ever take them in?

his guards marched up behind him, one of them stepping forward and conversing quietly with the earth kingdom guard. reluctantly, he opened the doors to the mansion.

the doors creaked as the guards opened them, revealing more guards that were standing in the halls. they were tense, ready for any battle that was coming along with the presence of the children of the firelord. zuko only kept his head up, hearing azula catch up with him and walk alongside him. the throne room was right in front of the entrance, and they walked confidently into it.

governor akio sat atop his throne, his strongest guards by his side as he stared down at the prince and princess. one smaller, empty throne stood next to his. it was a wonder that he agreed to meet them and take them in for a few months. it was upon the firelord’s request — of rather, demand — that they’d stay and create a connection between them and the fire nation. governor akio knew better than to argue.

“prince zuko, princess azula,” governor akio greeted, not moving from his seat on the throne. his eyes snapped to the empty throne beside him, expressionless face showing hints of anger that disappeared as soon as they showed.

zuko bowed, showing his respect, while azula simply stood in front of the king. her eyes glinted with something he couldn’t pinpoint, and she was looking him up and down as if sizing him up. zuko resisted the urge to hit her.

“father said we will be staying for three months,” zuko said, standing up straight as he stared at the governor. he was no king, but hanusaka was an influential city with history that tied all the way to the earth king. he knew his father had deeper plans for their stay. “to create a strong connection between hanusaka and the fire nation.”

“ah,” governor akio nodded, shoulders relaxed despite the obvious pressure on them. he showed no hesitancy; he was a wise man, for he knew that hesitancy would give the fire lord a reason to distrust him. “i’m sure you will enjoy your stay in hanusaka. my daughter...” his voice trailed off, his gaze suddenly pulled to the entrance of the throne room. governor akio’s lack of eye contact made the two teenagers turn around.

zuko recognized you.

you had been dancing in town square moments prior to this meeting. the crown of bamboo was still on your head, and you wore it proudly as you quickly detangled your hair from the flowers that were stuck in them. little flower petals followed you as you walked past zuko and azula, showing little care for their presence. your carelessness made azula curl her fingers into fists.

you were barefoot, but you still walked with poise as you led yourself to your throne. you removed your bow and arrows from your back, placing it on the side of your throne as you finally took a seat. you met your father’s angry glare, but you only managed a close lipped smile. “father,” you stated, before looking at the two teenagers in front of you.

azula was practically fuming at the uninterested look you gave them both, but her reactions only made your lips curl up into an amused smirk. “prince zuko and princess azula,” you drawled, leaning in and putting your elbows on your knees. “to what do we owe the pleasure?” you asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“y/n,” governor akio scolded, and you rolled your eyes at his sternness. you knew that they were coming. he had told you when he first received the messenger hawk from the firelord, and you immediately told him it was a bad idea. there was something wrong.

“just asking questions,” you protested, raising your hands in playful surrender. your eyes lingered a little bit too long on prince zuko, your eyebrow raising as you got a good look at his scar. he only looked back at you with a cold expression. how ironic.

“this is my daughter,” governor akio sighed, motioning a hand towards you. “y/n.”

“nice to meet you, y/n,” azula spoke up, tone condescending as she sized up the girl. “such a bold choice for you to be barefoot. and to wear such a... homemade crown.”

zuko nudged his sister, but that didn’t deter her as she waited patiently for your reaction.

“my people made this crown, princess azula,” you replied, voice smooth like a stream of water. “as for my lack of shoes,” you glanced down at your feet, “it helps me with hunting. sometimes i like to do my own work instead of ordering people around. don’t you agree?”

your words made your father snap his head your way, brows furrowed to show his obvious disdain. “how many times must i tell you to not hunt?” he whispered harshly, before returning to the calm front he put up. “i apologize for my daughter’s words.”

your huffed in annoyance, putting your hands on the arms of your throne and standing up. “you know what? father, i’ll give them the tour of the house.” you grabbed your bow and arrow, sending your father a mischievous grin that made him let out a disappointed sigh. you made your way to the teens, oblivious to azula’s mad look as you motioned for them to follow you.

while zuko didn’t show it, he found you interesting. the way you walked around the mansion without a care, and how you greeted every single worker with a smile that they returned (that is, before they saw him and azula). you showed disrespect towards your father and azula, yet you treated everyone with kindness, no matter their place. it was odd.

it was nighttime when your tour reached its end. after you led azula to her room, it left you both alone. zuko hadn’t said a word throughout your ‘tour,’ unlike azula, who commented her dislike for everything.

“you’re real quiet,” you observed as you walked next to him. you had already labelled azula as the ‘crazy, angry sister,’ but you had yet to find anything for zuko. he was nothing but a peaceful shadow the entire time.

“you just talk a lot,” zuko couldn’t help but say, mentally hitting himself for his own words. but to his surprise, you only laughed.

“well, someone needs to keep the awkward silence away,” you said, walking backwards as you walked ahead of him. “i mean, would you rather have me give you a house tour without saying a word?”

zuko shook his head, the hair in front of his face swaying with his movements. “i suppose not,” he replied, making you nod your head.

“besides, you’re so quiet that someone has to keep the conversation flowing.” you came to a sudden stop, pausing in front of a large door. you quickly opened it, peering inside for a moment before opening it wider for zuko. “here’s your room.” you allowed him to walk inside, and you leaned against the doorway as you watched him inspect it.

the room had high ceilings, and vines that grew from a nearby plant scaled the walls all the way to the ceiling. the thick vines came down in a chandelier. zuko’s eyes looked up at it in wonder and awe. it wasn’t beautifully extravagant like the fire nation palace was. it had a certain enigma to it that made it beautiful, and zuko appreciated it more.

“my room is five doors down,” you said as you looked at your nails. “feel free to come over whenever you want someone to talk. just don’t burn me alive.” you pushed yourself off the doorway, sending him one last smile. this one was genuine, not like the smile you had given him and azula in the throne room. “good night, prince zuko.” with that, the door shut behind you.

zuko stared at where you once stood. “good night, y/n,” he said softly, before resorting to his bed.

┈┈ 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ┈┈

NOTES: thank you for reading! btw, i’m trying to correspond eye color to the elements, so i’m sorry if your eye color isn’t the same! please say whether i should continue this as a series or not, your input means the world <3

buy me a coffee here! any likes, reblogs, or donations are appreciated :)

TAGLIST: @beifongsss @the-firebender-girl @astroninaaa @emberislandplayers @bubblebars

#zuko x reader #zuko smut #zuko imagines #zuko imagine #zuko #atla #atla imagine #avatar: the last airbender #azula

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inb4belphienaps · 3 years

Text

boundaries

<pt. 2> warnings: fluff i think word count: 1525

belphie listens to your retreating footsteps, back still leaning against the metal as he tries to picture how you look. from your voice alone, he thinks you probably have a kind face. the approachable kind at least.

your eyes, well, with a hint of mischief as he's gathered from the stories you tell him. getting dragged into (and sometimes instigating) his brothers' antics suggested that you didn't take yourself too seriously.

and then he remembers your laugh. what he'd thought he'd find irritating is instead confusing. the instinct to ignore it grows ever weaker with each visit. he even finds himself smiling at the sound now. your amusement in itself could apparently be...amusing.

but that wasn't all.

there's a tightness in his chest when you leave. the walls of the attic close in on him ever so slightly and he's suddenly reminded of his current predicament.

he was essentially a prisoner here. how thoughtful of lucifer to have made one of his favorite napping places the very bane of his existence. he'd long gone past the stage of finding comfort in the familiarity of the floor-length drapes and antique lights.

they did little to dispel the loneliness.

eventually, he gets up from the floor and with that one motion, he begins to formulate a plan. a plan that would hopefully serve as a solution to his misery.

a plan he sets into motion the next time you come up those stairs.

he's counting the number of conjured arrows he can aim at the center of a painting (some relic from the celestial realm, he reasons with disdain) when you interrupt him, causing all the arrows to dematerialize in a puff of violet-tinted smoke.

"hey, i brought some reading with me today. hope you don't mind."

the smoke shifts in the air at your arrival, as if a gust of wind had come through the room.

"what's it for?"

papers shuffle. he hears you take a seat and slides off the bed. he walks up to the wrought iron gate, wishing you'd just move and sit in front of it so he can see you. at first, he'd thought you were shy. after your second encounter, he'd realized you were just being cautious. and for that, perhaps you weren't entirely stupid.

"seductive speechcraft."

oh the irony.

"an assignment?"

you hum in confirmation. he listens to the scratch of your pen, watching your elbow move. diligent, weren't you?

"maybe i can help you."

you scoff. he raises a brow.

"no thank you. don't think i don't know how you are with words."

oh? that was interesting. the two of you never really did talk about what you thought of one another. there's no time like the present then.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"the way i see it, you're far too confident. and maybe that works in your favor", you say between flipping pages and scribbling notes.

oh...how adorable.

"don't you trust me?"

a huff. he sees your shoulder slump and wishes he could gauge your expression. were you genuinely upset at his question or at the notion itself?

"i mean...you haven't exactly given me a reason not to."

yes. like you'd implied, he'd made sure of it. not only so you could continue to help him but also, so you would keep coming back. he'd been the one to break the ice and tell you stories. and he'd made you feel comfortable enough to do the same.

"and?"

you stop writing. the corner of his lips quirks upwards. the moment you'd decided to disregard lucifer's warning and find him, had it simply been curiosity?

"i don't know. you won't...try anything, will you? hurt me or something, i mean."

he feels a pang of guilt. at another point in time, he probably would have. he curls his fingers around a crest-shaped notch in the gate and rests his forehead against the back of his palm, figuring it best to be honest.

"i won't. not anymore, anyway."

you visibly stiffen. he sighs inwardly.

"so it crossed your mind."

"it's complicated. try not to take it personally."

truly, it was. if he wanted to explain it all to you, he'd have to recall memories that were still too painful to re-live, even (or especially) in his dreams.

"well that doesn't make it any easier."

the wheels in his head spin as he tries to figure out a way to convey his emotions without setting himself off. keep it vague.

"before this", he gestures, hoping that it comes across in his tone (after all, he wasn't just referring to your sole influence). "i didn't have the highest opinion of humans."

you remain quiet.

"i basically blamed them for us falling, among other things."

the fires of his rage had subsided to embers. in his isolation, he'd had months to come to terms with his prejudice. during the initial turmoil, amidst the anguish that plagued him, he'd had to learn to separate himself from the emotions. to view the events as merely events.

it'd been (and still was) a bitter pill to swallow. that it hadn't been the man's fault his sister had fallen in love with him. that it was only out of that same love that she'd committed sacrilege. that...he'd needed someone to pin it on in the end.

"i realize that that hatred was misplaced."

hatred, he'd said. you sit in silence in an attempt to give the both of you a second or two to think.

he's nervous. what could you be thinking of him following such a confession? he lifts his head to see your elbow tucked in at your waist. were you resting your hand under your chin? were you...scared of him?

"i should hurry along with those pacts, huh?"

his eyes widen. and he laughs under his breath.

"there's no rush. not really."

you sigh.

"aren't you lonely? beel misses you, you know."

before he can make sense of the new thoughts attempting to de-rail his train of thought, he's answering you.

"it's not so bad with you here."

you chuckle. it's like a weight is lifted when you do. this sort of apprehension he felt around you, although uncomfortable, wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"charming, aren't you?"

and you turn your head slightly. he eyes the ends of your hair, how they catch the dull glow of the lamps in the attic. he wants to see you.

"do me a favor?"

"hm?"

"come into the light."

another laugh, this one more amused than the last.

"curious? to see the face of your savior?", you ask, a sarcastic confidence coloring your words.

"yes. that and i'll show you a trick if you do."

you drop your pen to the side, letting it roll across the top of your notebook. you want to see him up close too. the painting in the hallway had made him out to be rather sad. a part of you wanted to dispel that image for good.

"promise?"

"i promise."

he isn't aware that he's holding his breath until he meets your eyes and comes face-to-face with an expression that stirs up a feeling he'd almost forgotten.

attraction. how foreign it feels and yet how befitting it is of the situation.

"um, hi, i guess."

the awkward smile on your lips has his stomach twisting.

"hi."

fuck, i wish we'd done this earlier, he thinks.

"it better be a damn good trick you're going to show me."

how much more pleasantly that sentence flows as he's looking at you, taking in the curve of your mouth and the flush of your cheeks. he figures he shouldn't stare but then again, this 'trick' didn't require a lot of focus.

you watch as he stretches his closed fist out through a gap in the gate. you wonder for a moment, whether he's going to ask for your hand.

as he mutters an incantation, you gasp. swirls of purple and magenta snake around his fingers, and a pulse of light from within them sends goosebumps down your arms.

he opens his palm and there lies a butterfly in the center of it - a delicate, almost translucent butterfly with wings that shimmer. it takes off, fluttering away from him and you lift your hand to greet it.

its delicate wings brush against the tip of your thumb and you smile as it gently lands on your palm. upon closer inspection, you marvel at the intricate patterns on its back and soon it leaves, flying past you, making its way down the stairs.

his eyes never waver, even as you return your gaze to him once more. it's enough to make you stammer.

"t-thank you. uh...you'll have to teach me some time."

in the wake of your admiration for his 'talents', he takes your hand. his touch is surprisingly warm and his skin soft.

"i'd be happy to."

he places a kiss inside your palm and your heart, much like the butterfly, flutters. such intimacy from a man with sharp teeth.

"is it okay if i stay a bit longer?"

you're sure he notices the anticipation in your voice, how it quivers, expectant.

"of course."

#palm!!! kisses!!!#i'm a fucking sucker for that shit dude #obey me writing #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x gn reader #obey me fluff #obey me scenario #my writing 🐇

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coveredinsweetpea · 4 years

Note

you should do a smut blurb where sweet pea and the reader are studying together and he keeps trying to distract her and begs her to let him give her head. with fluff at the end please 👩🏻‍🦲👩🏻‍🦲 love ur writing 🥺❤️

I went a bit overboard and it’s 2k long and I’m too lazy to edit but i hope it’s not too bad!

"- so the renal filtration rate is not only affected by the volume of blood but also by the effectiveness of the heart muscle, ok?" you said, drawing yet another arrow, this time connecting the kidney to the right atrium of the heart. Your eyes were focused on the diagram in front of you, taking in how good it actually came out. "Can you tell me how the power of the heart muscle influences the urine filtration?"

It was as if you were talking by yourself, as if there was no one else in the room with you. Rolling your eyes, you turned to look at Sweet Pea, who was busy folding one of his notes into a paper airplane.

"SWEET PEA" you yelled, startling him, which resulted in him dropping the airplane and hurrying to meet your eyes with a confused expression.

"Yeah?"

"The fuck are you doing, oh my god" you scoffed, and walked over to him. Without any kind of notice, you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the bed where your atlas and all your notebooks were neatly arranged, and motioned for him to lay down.

He did so without too much complaining, and you thought this time he'd actually listen. You explained the mechanism of the vasoactive hormones and their effect on kidneys, and then looked at him again, "Did you understand that?"

"Yea, I did" he said softly, "It's not that difficult, you know"

"Oh, I know" you laughed, "But I'm not the one who's failing this class"

"I'm failing because I didn't go, not because I'm stupid"

"All your friends are down at the docks, while you're here, learning about pee. Tell me again how you're not stupid"

"You're here with me" Sweet Pea grinned, nudging you in the side. His eyes traveled a down your body a bit, before looking at you again. "Don't you wanna-"

"Pea!" you exclaimed, "No, stop trying to distract me. It's enough that you're already distracted, if I am too, then we will never finish this. Ever"

"So..." he teased, "If I'm distracted, I should do something to get my head back into the game, right?"

"What do you wanna do...?" you asked, even though you were already pretty sure you were going to be against that anyway. It wasn't only Sweet Pea missing the party at the docks, so were you. And also the fact that he is wasting all his potential on beer and street fights. It was a shame and you were determined to get him back on track.

"Come here" he whined, throwing his arm around your neck, and pulling you into a kiss. You didn't even get to part your lips before his hands started roaming all over your body. Without effort, he rolled onto his back and pulled up on top of him, hungrily kissing your lips as if you had deprived him of them for too long. And it almost worked, almost had you caving and forgetting about studying.

"Sweet Pea" you scoffed, crawling off of him, faking annoyance, "Stop! Pay attention to this! It's the last chapter, please"

"Ok" he sighed defeated, "I will, for you"

"Thank you" you laughed.

Five minutes later, you were explaining to him the active mechanism of absorption, when you felt Sweet Pea place his hand on your ass.

You turned to look at him confused, but he just sent you a sweet smile, "I'm paying attention. Sodium and Chloride, go on"

Glad he was finally listening, you leaned in for a quick peck on the lips, and then resumed the idea. About 30 seconds later, his hand started moving, roaming around your ass, gripping tightly before he made his way between your legs.

"Why are you like this?" you whined.

"Like what?" Sweet Pea taunted, "You know I was listening to you"

"But if you keep doing that, I'm not gonna be able to concentrate"

"Perfect" he chuckled, slapping your ass.

His fingers dug into your skin, and the pain between your legs was starting to get more and more real. "Stop touching my ass"

"No" he shrugged amused, and moved his hand lower between your legs to apply pressure over your clothed opening, "Come on, you know you like it"

"Of course I like it" you rolled your eyes, "But we have to get this done, please!"

"I know you want my fingers fucking your pussy" Sweet Pea said with a devious smile, his dark eye boring into yours, almost hypnotizing you.

"Pea..."

"What about my tongue, hm?" he suggested, pressing down harder against your clit, "I know you want it real bad, baby girl"

"Let's finish studying and we'll see after" you said weakly, and it was obvious you were more trying to convince yourself rather than him.

"Let me eat you out, angel. I want your pussy" he begged, and his words set you ablaze.

He knew perfectly well what he was doing. "I just wanna taste you," Sweet Pea grinned, and seeing how you weren't declining his offer anymore, he moved to the side and grabbed the waist band of your leggings. He kept his hand in place for a second, and looked up to meet your eyes, "I bet you're so fucking wet thinking about me tongue fucking that pussy, why are you holding back? I know you're dripping"

"Of course I want it, Pea" you panted, and rubbed your thighs together, "But I also want you to pass this class"

"I make you cum, and then you make me smart" he laughed, "Deal?"

You contemplated for a second, and then rolled your eyes, not being able to resist him anymore, "Ok..."

"That's my girl!" Sweet Pea exclaimed with enthusiasm, and then grabbed your hips, pulling your legging and panties off in one swift motion.

You spread your legs for him, and a sweet, hungry smile appeared on his lips, "You're so fucking beautiful" he shook his head and then lowered himself. At first, his lips connected to the soft skin of your inner thighs, as he kissed his was up. His touch was feather light, in perfect contrast with the way his nails dug into your skin. When he reached your core and you felt his breath against your opening, goosebumps appeared all over your skin.

"You really are so wet" Sweet Pea smiled, dragging his pointed finger up your folds.

By this point, you were drunk with anticipation. He was taking his sweet time, as if you weren't riled up enough already. "Come on, Pea. Please" you moaned.

"Look who's begging me now" he smirked, and even though it seemed like he was about to carry on with his teasing, while looking into your eyes, he pushed to fingers inside of you.

The eagerness of his actions made you let out a loud moan as you arched your back, "Pea..."

"Yes?" he smiled, twisting his fingers around, proudly stretching up your walls and knowingly driving you insane.

"Feels real good" you whimpered, already starting to adjust and get used to his fingers.

"Gonna feel way better"

While continuing to fuck you with his fingers, he bent down and attacked your clit with his lips. He created the perfect amount of pressure as he sucked against your bundle of nerves. His fingers kept doing, furiously thrusting in and out of you. Instinctively, you bent your knees and brought your thighs together on either side of Sweet Pea's head. The feeling of his tongue lapping at your core was slowly starting to be too much, and you curled your fingers into his raven hair, gripping his roots to relieve some of the pressure building up inside you.

Out of nowhere, he stopped, and pulled away. As he spoke, his breath fanned against your pussy, giving you an electrifying vibe. "If I could choose how I wanna die, I definitely going for being suffocated between your legs"

"Shit sorry" you laughed, forcing yourself to relax you legs and lay them back down on the bed.

"It's fine, love" he teased, kissing your thigh, "I fucking love it"

Soon after, he was back at it, full force. Pleasure was starting to tickle you all over your body, and it was getting impossible to keep quiet. Moan after moan slipped past your lips, as you struggled to keep your breathing regulated. Just when you thought you couldn't feel any better, Sweet Pea added another finger, and the feeling became to much. You barely got a chance to get accustomed to the feeling before you started to feel your high enveloping you.

"Pea-" you panted, "I'm close"

He pulled away just for a second, "Cum on my lips, love, come on"

When his lips met your clit again, pleasure took over. His name rolled off your lips as you allowed yourself to drown in the mind blowing orgasm he forced upon you. Every muscle of your body spasmed and Sweet Pea kept going until he felt you relax and fall limply against the mattress.

"Fuck..."

"It was good, wasn't it?" he grinned, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Slowly, he crawled over to you, and laid down by your side, "You have no idea how good you fucking taste."

"Show me" you smiled, and grabbed him by the collar to pull him in for a kiss. When his tongue pushed past your lips, your own taste enveloped your mouth, and the simple thought of it drove you crazy all over again.

After pulling away from him, you wanted to close your eyes and cuddle into his chest, but much to your surprise, he stopped you. "Come on, babe, let's finish that chapter"

His words took you aback and your eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

Sweet Pea hesitated, "I realize I may have been a little bit of an asshole"

"No, baby" you whined, cupping his cheek, "Why?"

"You just wanted to help me" he sighed, slowly blinking as regret was visible in his eyes, "And for almost two hours I didn't even listen to you talk"

"That's ok, Pea" you said sincerely, "I get that you're not in the mood to study, don't worry, please"

"It's not even your grade, but you still came here instead of going out, and all I did was completely waste your time"

"Stop" you whined, lovingly kissing his lips to prove not one single part of you was mad at him, "You'll pass this class, and this will all be over with, and I swear to god, Pea, I don't regret not going out tonight"

"How do I thank you?" he asked sweetly, "What do you want in return for being the most awesome human being ever?"

"Just pass the class, babe" you laughed.

"No, I really wanna thank you. Tell me something you want"

"Hm.." you pouted and then smiled shyly, "A kiss"

"A thousand kisses maybe" Sweet Pea shook his head, "But I'm serious, tell me"

"I don't know" you whined, not finding a way out of this. After thinking about it for a few seconds, you settled on something, "A night in. Me and you, pizza, wine and weed. That's all"

"But, Y/n" Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, "We already to that a lot, like two times a week, at least"

"Well-" you excused yourself, "I love it, that's all I want"

He seemed to have a hard time believing your words, but eventually his eyes started to sparkle, "I have an idea!"

You nodded for him to continue.

"I'll rent one of those hippie vans and we'll do everything you said, but not in this shitty house. We'll go out, like out of the city so we can see the stars and all that cheesy stuff you love"

"Pea.." you whined, "That's too much! And I'd love to say you don't have to, but I really want that"

He looked down at you in awe for a second, before kissing your lips, "I fucking love you, baby girl"

"And I love you, Pea"

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea smut #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale imagines #sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale fic #riverdale fanfiction #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fluff #sweet pea fic #sweet pea blurb #sweet pea writing

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

The Stars Made Us (Part 9)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2462

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your morning routine began. You opened all the drapes in the house, got Charles up, got the serum from Hank, gave it to Charles, and started on his breakfast. Today was fruit, yogurt, and granola, with tea.

As soon as Hank and Charles sat down to eat, you were sipping coffee at the breakfast table.

“I need to go into town to get groceries and some other things. Does anyone need anything?” you asked.

“Could you grab some more bread and peanut butter?” Hank requested.

“On it, blue man,” you said with a smile as you jotted down the items.

“Also, could we have something sweet?” Charles asked.

“Sweet? Sure, anything in mind?”

“Whatever you want to make is fine. Just a dessert of any kind,” he stated nonchalantly.

“Okay, will do.” You made note to find something sweet.

“I’m going to be bored while you’re gone,” he commented with a sly smile. “You do keep my days busy.”

You raised your eyebrows in thought before clearing your throat. “Have you perhaps given any thought to… well maybe going back to work?”

Hank immediately stopped eating, his eyes dashing between you two as Charles slowed the motion from his hand to his mouth.

Hank began, “Oh, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. He just got back on his serum, with his powers and everything. I’m not sure--”

“Actually, I had toyed with the idea a bit,” Charles informed.

“Really?” Hank asked, surprised.

“Well, why not? I’m capable. It’s time I went back. Y/N here can’t keep paying for all our groceries and we’ll need money for utilities and such soon. I need to give you a wage too, Hank unless you’d like to return to work.”

“I could do a few hours outside of the mansion, if that’s alright with you,” he suggested.

“Absolutely. You aren’t slave to this house, and neither are you, Y/N. If you need to go back to your home to take care of your work, I would understand. I don’t need you losing your job over me.”

“My work is fine,” you assured him. “I’m here for you and only you.” You reached across the table and held his hand. “Do you have any idea what you’d go do?”

“Possibly teach at a local college, maybe get into some research,” he suggested.

“That sounds great. Would you like me to help?”

“I’ll see what I can get done on my own and if I get stuck, I’ll let you know,” he informed with a smile.

And so it began. He went and got a haircut, making him fall into the role you thought had pictured him in -- a young, well educated, clean cut man. It some how made him sexier. Not that the long hair looked bad on him, but it represented a dark time in his life. He got several suits dry cleaned and he began to go on interviews. He had about six in one week, and by Friday he took one of the job offers to work with a university that was only an hour away. He spent his days there while you tidied up the mansion, ran errands, made meals, and did a little bit of remote psychiatry.

Hank sought out work and found a spot doing some contract work for the military. He was to design a new aircraft for them.

By now, you’d been with Hank and Charles for one month, the routine rather simple. You tried to make sure to keep up contact with Charles every day. Whether it was breakfast, dinner, or telling him goodnight. You wanted that proactive, positive interaction.

One day, you decided that now that Charles was out of his deep depression, maybe you could get to know each other better in a less therapy-styled way. So it occurred to you to have a dinner date.

Up until now, you’d refrained from telling him you loved him, outwardly. You mentioned it in passing, and of course you’d voiced that you did love him, but you never actually just stopped to tell him point blank, “I love you.” He seemed a little gun shy about it. Every time you brought up love, being mates, having a history, he seemed to ignore it. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, and you weren’t here just to start being romantic. You were here to help him find himself and get back on his feet. As soon as you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t keen on getting lovey dovey yet, you backed off.

Actually, come to think of it, he had never confessed any feelings at all towards you. Sure, he sent flirtatious messages, called you ‘love’ ‘darling’ ‘sweetheart’ ‘dove’, but he never once said he loved you, not in the last ten years, and not in the last month. You just assumed with the rate at which you kept in contact, and the romantic messages, and the fact that you were soulmates it was a given that he loved you. Yet, now, you realized maybe he wasn’t in love with you at all. Maybe not yet, maybe not ever.

Now that he seemed to be doing a bit better though, you thought it might be time to start easing into the romantic side of things. Maybe he just needed a nudge, maybe he wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear it.

You asked Hank if he could take a night in the city, and give you two some privacy. He agreed politely and you set to work on dinner, hoping it would be ready in time when Charles got home.

You readied a very small table in the middle of his massive kitchen with a white linen cloth, two candle sticks, and a rose in a small vase you’d found deep in the pantry. By the time you were getting ready to set everything on the table, Charles had already walked in.

He sat his briefcase down with a peculiar smile as he watched you rush around, putting his hands in his pockets.

“What’s all this?” he asked and you whirled, blushing slightly.

You stared at him for a moment, completely awestruck at his gorgeousness. He looked fantastic in his suit for work.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you answered, “It’s dinner. I thought it might be nice to, uh, reconnect.”

“Reconnect, hmm?” he mused as he walked forward. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.”

“Well then take a seat and I’ll get the food over to you.”

Charles did exactly as you asked and you walked over with a roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. Once everything was plated and ready, you sat down across from him.

“So, what’s new at work?” you asked, hoping to spark some more conversations with him. You desperately missed how close you two used to be.

“Not much.” He began to bite into his food, chewing it carefully. “My, this is delicious. You learned cooking from your father, right?”

“Right,” you agreed. “My mom cooks too, but she doesn’t exactly enjoy it. She only did it when my dad had to work late. My dad loves it though.”

“How are your parents?” he asked, so casually, as if he’d met them a million times.

“Doing rather well. They’re starting to consider retirement. I was going to pitch in and give them some money each month.”

His eyes cast down and a sorrowful look shadowed his expression.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, wanting to reach towards him and comfort him.

“I just realized I haven’t asked you one thing about yourself since you arrived,” he commented in an astonished voice. “What kind of a person--what kind of a mate does that? I don’t even know where you’re working. I haven’t asked what you do during the day. I… I just let you exist in my home as my nanny without asking you anything. I let you cook, clean, care for me. You’re basically my nurse and that is abhorrent. You’re...Well, you’re the love of my life,” he noted with warmth in his eyes.

Time stood still.

He said that? Did he truly just say that to you? Sure, you two loved each other. You knew he loved you. You just weren’t sure you’d ever hear those words come from his mouth.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for it. You two had been on such different wavelengths lately… well, for a year. He was wrapped up in his own grief, and you were wrapped up in yours. Then you met and his grief stayed while yours shifted into something else, some other new kind of hurt. You had no idea how long it might take to drag him from his darkness. How long before you saw the Charles that wrote you late at night and checked on you throughout the day?

Yet, here he was. Thoughtful and kind as ever, and you weren’t ready for the emotion, the words that just tumbled from the one man you’d ever loved.

You smiled down at your food with a laugh. “It’s fine, Charles. You’ve been busy. You’re healing.”

“Precisely the point. It’s been all about me since you arrived and that just isn’t bloody fair now, is it?”

All you did was slightly shrug and cock your head to the side. You didn’t think of it that way. Sure, you missed your long talks and getting to know each other, but you weren’t here for that. You were here for Charles and to help him get back on his feet.

“So, tell me. What is it you’re doing these days?” he prodded, a proud smile on his face as he ate.

“I’m doing psychiatry,” you informed evenly. “I have my own private practice but when I came up to see you, I all but turned my patients over to a colleague of mine. She still sends me files to look at, and I still help in diagnosis, but from afar.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he apologized. “I don’t want you to lose your dream because of me,” he said.

You reached forward, grabbing at nothing in particular. “Oh, no. It’s fine. I’ll always have patients.”

“Are you sure? If you need to go back home I can… I can get by,” he assured. Both of you took note of the weight of that statement. You returning home meant unfinished business. Would you return? Would you move in? If so, when? How? How would you leave a life behind? You always knew one day you might have to for Charles, but you had never really given it much thought.

“They’ll be fine without me for a little while longer,” you guaranteed.

“So tell me all about it,” he urged again, the excitement back in his expression. “Has it been everything you dreamed of? How is it being independent?”

You laughed happily at his enthusiasm before diving in. It was refreshing to talk to him about your life, to get a glimpse of the way things used to be for a bit. You weren’t sure if this was how things would stay, or if you’d ever get back to before his disappearance, but for now, for tonight, this was alright.

-----------------------

The two of you wrapped up dinner and he helped you clean the kitchen.

“I’ve never done this,” he admitted as he stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, helping you load the dishwasher.

“What? The dishes?”

“Cleaned,” he clarified before looking at you. It made you laugh loudly and he joined in simultaneously.

“You can’t be serious,” you accused. “Never? Certainly you cleaned your room as a boy, or while the school was going on?”

He shook his head, raising his eyebrows. “I had a maid as a child, Raven typically took care of housework. Then when the school started, some of the kids pitched in to work in the kitchen, and Hank helped to manage them. My mother never set foot in a kitchen in her life. Always had a chef, and always had a maid.”

“Sounds like quite the life,” you mused as you put a dish in.

“What it sounds like is that I was spoiled and wasn’t taught how to be independent and that I’m an expert in taking things for granted,” he stated.

You made a sad smile, one that he couldn’t quite see from his angle.

“Especially you,” he said, his voice dripping with guilt. His hands wrapped around your shoulders, forcing you to stand up and look him in the eye. “I wasted a year of our time together, and I’ve spent far too many weeks dwelling in my own mistakes. I won’t squander another moment of our time.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page then,” you concurred with a warm grin.

As you started the dishwasher, you did a quick once over to affirm that everything else was put up, wiped down, and swept. Once you were satisfied, you began to walk out of the kitchen. Charles was beside you and suddenly his hand was down beside yours, inviting you to take his hand.

It felt so foreign and strange. Physical intimacy was totally new for you. You’d been saving yourself for Charles for over ten years. Now that romantic intimacy was happening, you didn’t know how to feel.

On the other side, holding his hand felt so right you thought you would implode. You’d wanted to touch Charles the moment his handwriting showed up on your skin. A sensation of calmness swept over you and nothing had ever felt so right.

All too soon you were at Charles’s bedroom door.

“Well this is me,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

“I’d love to do this again tomorrow… Not the backbreaking dinner, but the… well the conversation was nice,” he noted, his hands now back in his pocket.

“Me too.”

The two of you stood there like awkward teenagers, blushing and slightly laughing. “Well, goodnight,” he finally said before making a movement towards his door. He opened it, stepped inside, and was about to close it when you blurted something out.

“I love you more than I could ever express,” you quickly spouted.

The door stopped closing, then it slightly opened, exposing Charles’s form.

“You do?” he asked, not so much shocked as… as if he wanted confirmation.

You couldn’t help but let out a slight laugh and shake your head. “Well… of course.” You frowned at him. “What else would you call this?”

“Madness,” he mused.

“I am mad for you,” you agreed. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t madly in love.”

“That’s...uh… that’s good to know,” he said with a smile before bidding you a final good night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

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#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic

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i-wish-we-were-jedi · 3 years

Text

The Day Wilbur Broke

I wrote this out in a comment section weeks ago and finally went through and novelized it. I'm not doing the whole smp storyline, but this is one of my favorite scenes in the entirity of the SMP, and I was hit in the face with a blast of inspiration as I was supposed to be doing my theology homework. Anyway, I hope you like it :)

***SPOILERS FOR DREAM SMP ELECTION ARC***

The last rays of sunlight faded as Schlatt descended from the podium to the sound of applause. The crowd below him began to chant, and though Tommy knew that half of them didn’t mean it, that most of them were as skeptical of the drunken president as he was, they were still loud enough to shake the ground. A singular word – a name that rang over and over in Wilbur and Tommy's ears from where they sat, cloaked in the shadows at the top of a nearby tower. Manberg. Manberg. Manberg.

Tommy's fist tightened around his bow as Schlatt stumbled out of view of the crowd, held up by Quackity and Tubbo. His fingers itched to pull back the arrow and embed it right between the president’s shoulder-blades. But Tubbo was standing too close now. And then Schlatt was gone, out of view, and the sun was below the horizon. The day was over. And something more than that…

Manberg. Manberg. Manberg.

“Tommy.” Wilbur’s voice was empty as he placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, pulling him out of his daze. “Let’s go.”

Tommy let Wil lead the way back down the ladder in silence. He would have been seething if he weren’t so confused. He’d had his arrow aimed directly at Schlatt. All it would’ve taken was one motion! Just one, and it would all be over! Why had Wilbur called it off? Why had he stopped him? He thought about asking, but Wil’s expression was unreadable, in a way that Tommy had never seen before. There was something dark and twisted growing in Wil’s eyes beneath that mop of hair. So Tommy kept quiet, waiting for Wil to speak. Then he’d ask why Schlatt wasn’t dead right now.

Tommy never once thought to ask why he’d listened to Wilbur…because it was Wilbur. He always listened to Wilbur.

They reached the ground floor and Tommy could still feel the chants of the crowd shaking the ground beneath his feet. And though his face was turned away, Tommy knew Wilbur could hear it too.

“Tommy…”

“Wilbur, I could’ve taken my shot,” Tommy said, feeling the anger and confusion in his voice as he stared at Wil’s back.

“Tommy, no. It’s not…it’s…” Wil stammered before finally trailing off into a sigh. Tommy didn’t try to continue. It was all too much.

The two of them stepped out of the tower and stood out under the open sky, the night wind ruffling their hair. They should’ve been celebrating a victory right now. Raising the L’Manburg flag and destroying the obsidian monstrosity that had replaced it. But instead…

Manberg. Manberg. Manberg.

In the East, the edge of the moon shone like silver over the trees. The night would be bright one, and no darkness meant they’d be easy to follow. The trek back to Pogtopia would be a dangerous one. The two of them began to run. They didn’t stop until all they could hear was the night noises around them, and the ground beneath their feet was still.

They walked now, Tommy still holding his bow. Wilbur’s empty hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

“Killing Schlatt wouldn’t do anything,” Wil finally said as they reached the edge of the pine forest. “Killing Schlatt…it wouldn’t fix a single thing. Cause then Quackity would just become president, and who knows if that would be worse. And then we kill Quackity and George would be president. This,” He gestured to the bow in Tommy’s white-knuckled hand. “It means nothing, Tommy. It means nothing. It wouldn’t have mattered if you killed him or not.”

They walked for a little while longer in silence. Tommy was itching to talk more, to ask Wilbur more questions, to understand what he was getting at. But something held him back – not what Wilbur had said, because he was right, of course. As usual. It was how he’d said it. This wasn’t the voice of a man admitting defeat. Wilbur hadn’t lost his confident stride or the charisma with which he held his shoulders. If anything there was a new degree of defiance to it. Along with an unsettling air of curiosity, like a mad scientist testing a theory. Inquisitive, and with far too little in the way of caution.

“Tommy, I have a question for you,” Wil finally spoke as they crossed a pond. “Schlatt’s festival…it’s a good idea, isn’t it? It doesn’t seem bad. It seems like a nice, friendly thing that he’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, though didn’t think so. With Schlatt there was always something else going on, whether you could see it or not. He took joy in destroying or re-forming the things they had made, and then flaunting it in their face to taunt them.

Wilbur stopped at the foot of a hill and turned back to look up at his brother. “Tommy, are we the bad guys?”

The question nearly knocked Tommy over. He stared down at Wilbur’s brown eyes, black in the light of the still-rising moon, unsure how to answer.

“I mean, we just kind of made ourselves the leaders,” Wil continued. “But then we had a vote and he won. It was completely legal. And now we’re trying to overthrow him. I…” He sighed. “It feels like we’re the bad guys, Tommy. This doesn’t feel…correct.”

Wilbur turned to face the lake at the bottom of the hill, and Tommy descended to stand next to him. Wil’s face was slack as he stared at the water. Near the opposite bank, ripples spread from a spot where a fish briefly surfaced before disappearing again.

“Tommy, am I…am I a bad…” Wilbur trailed off, then turned and faced Tommy head-on. “Am I a villain? Am I the villain in this story?”

Tommy’s mouth was agape as he tried to process what Wil was asking him. Wil wasn’t wrong about the things they’d done. Schlatt had taken power legally. Unexpectedly, unconventionally, yes. But legally. Yet here they were, trying to overthrow him. They’d betrayed friends, committed espionage, destroyed things that others had worked hard for.

“Am I…” Wilbur said quieter, “Am I the villain in your history?”

Tommy took Wil by the shoulders. “No.” His voice was certain. Wilbur was not the villain. He knew him. The two of them had been friends – brothers! – as long as he could remember. If there was one thing he knew, in all of his time in L’Manburg, it was that Wilbur Soot could never be the villain.

Wil took a step back, breaking Tommy’s hold on him. Wil’s eyes were piercing in the darkness, and Tommy could feel them searching his own, his face, his mind behind it.

“Why not?” Wilbur finally asked evenly.

He began walking again, and Tommy followed. He had to think. The evidence against them was strong, he couldn’t deny. But he knew what he knew. “Because we started L’Manburg. And we should’ve won that vote.”

“But the people decided we shouldn’t have, Tommy.”

“No. No, the people didn’t decide it,” Tommy insisted. “The endorsement did. What Schlatt did…”

“Tommy, we allowed the coalition,” Wil interrupted, his voice rising now as he climbed the final hill to their base. “They told us what they were doing and our arrogance got ahead of us. We allowed it. We said yes! It’s on tape! And yet here we are trying to overthrow them!" Wilbur gave a small chuckle, like someone finally thinking of an obvious answer to a complicated question. "Tommy, I think we’re the bad guys!”

“I…” Tommy didn’t know what to say. Wilbur wasn’t wrong. They had said yes. They’d allowed Schlatt to run at the head of a coalition.

“But Tommy, I don’t know…” Wilbur froze on the hill, and Tommy felt cold spiders creeping down his back as he turned back to face him. “Tommy, me and you – we both agree we’re in the right here, right?”

“I mean yeah, I’m always in the right, so…”

Wilbur stepped back down the hill so he could stand level with Tommy, an insane gleam in his eye. “Then let’s be the bad guys.”

Tommy took a step back, eyes narrowing, doubting he’d even heard what he’d just heard.

“Tommy, why not?” Wil said, spreading his arms as he backed into the doorway of the base. “Why not! Our nation’s gone! It’s behind us, Tommy. So let’s…” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Let’s blow it to smithereens!” The insane light began to grow. “Let’s blow the whole…”

“Wait! Wait! Wilbur, are you thinking…?”

“Tommy, I say if we can’t have Manberg, then no one! No one can have Manberg!”

“But no! No, Wilbur!” Tommy said, trying to calm him down. “Wilbur, I think we can take it back, because…”

“I think this is a new era!” Wilbur’s voice was at a shout now, and try as he might to stand his ground, Tommy found his voice growing softer and softer, found himself involuntarily backing away from the insanity in Wilbur’s face. “This is a new era! We burn the place to the ground! I want no crops to grow there ever again. The entire place!”

“No, Wil!”

“Mycelium! Cobblestone! I want the whole thing just covered! I want it all gone!”

“Wilbur…”

“Tommy.” Wil was standing in the doorway of the base now, the warm light of the torches framing him from behind, casting his features in shadow except for the gleam in his eyes. “Tommy, let’s be villains.”

Tommy was torn as he’d never been before. In Wilbur’s silhouette, with the long dark coat and his hair pushed back under his hat, Tommy saw the same man he had always seen since the beginning of their time together. He wanted to say yes, no matter how crazy the idea was, because this was Wilbur! His Wilbur! The person he’d trusted with his life time and time again. He knew him! He knew his laugh and his tears, the way he always brushed his hair back, the look on his face when he was concentrating, and the way his fingers moved against the strings of a guitar. He’d questioned Wilbur’s plans before and yet still followed them because Wil was his brother. And if Wilbur believed this was what had to be done, then he was right…wasn’t he?

“Can I have a moment to think, Wil?”

“Think about what?” Wil asked, standing straighter. “Think about what?” You’ve had a minute. You’ve had days, weeks, months to think about what we should do!”

“Wilbur, I need a minute!” Tommy pushed past Wilbur, his head spinning, and retreated into the mines.

“The election happened two weeks ago, Tommy!” Wilbur was close behind him.

“I need a minute!” Tommy shouted, before ducking into his room and slamming the piston door behind him. In the cave outside his room, he could still hear Wil pacing, muttering to himself, fiddling with the mechanism of his crossbow. Tommy had never seen Wil like this. No…he had. In moments. In the way Wil had laughed in Dream’s face after they’d won their independence. During the war where Wilbur had looked out over the battlefield of carnage and seemed to be suppressing a smile. But a dark shadow had fallen over Wilbur. And Tommy was suddenly struck with the notion that this wasn’t his friend anymore.

#wilbur soot #evil wilbur #dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #fanfic #tommyinnit #l'manberg #manberg #jschlatt #sally salmon #pogtopia

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feyborns · 4 years

Text

AU IN WHICH NIMUE WAS NEVER SHOT WITH THE ARROW/OR SHE WAS SAVED AND REUNITED WITH THE REST OF THE FEY. Lancelot and Squirrel have also joined the camp, and it’s been a few weeks since they’ve all come together. (Pls don’t give me shit if something is not accurate. I loved the show and liked the theory of these two being a thing so PLS. Fan fiction is called fiction for a reason ok thnx)

The night was still, as the only thing to be heard was the crackling from the dying fire. Nimue silently curses herself for being one of the last few awake, as her eyes settle across the flames against the logs, they meet his. Was he a night owl as she was? Apparently so. A sigh emits into the vicinity, and she hates how quiet it is. Her village was always humming with life, and she clung the camp for the fey close to her heart as it mirrored her village in that aspect. Someone was always awake, up to something. Oceanic hues squeeze shut if only for a moment as she remembers their few days of bliss within those confines. Hidden away from the rest of the world. But most importantly, the Red Paladins. Optics narrow then, at the Weeping Monk. He’s given his true name, but she refused to give him the honor of using it. Even her thanks in saving Squirrel were limited. She loved that little boy, and hated that monk. His intentions were still unclear to her, and as she thinks of the Red Paladins, she’s reminded of his actions as well. He doesn’t meet her gaze from across the fire pit, but the way he avidly he avoids it shows he knows that she’s eyeing him carefully. Squirrel sort of looked up to him now. As any child would after being rescued in such a manner, but Nimue still held her guard up. She wouldn’t be considered Queen of the Fey if she was so easily trusting outsiders. Especially ones who had massacred his own kind. Still - it was clear that Father Carden had made his mark on him. Mentally and physically. And despite her best efforts, the heart kept behind those guards felt for him. Pitied him. Felt sad for him. Ripped away from his own culture, his people. Used as a puppet for majority of his life. Never knowing anything else. The way he saved Squirrel made something clear to Nimue, though. He couldn’t deny his true self, and when they came for a child, much like himself back then, they couldn’t allow them to murder him. He looked at Squirrel as if he was looking at a reflection of himself.

She’s stirred out of her thoughts only when he stifles up a cough from the back of his throat, meeting her gaze if only for a moment before averting it immediately back to the grass. “Something to say?” She questions, though she knows he was just trying to get her to stop eye boggling him. “No.” He mutters in that hushed tone of his, and for a moment she feels bad. She wished she didn’t. It would be so much easier for her if she was able to keep up this hardened shell toward him. It was, unfortunately, coming undone. He was an asset to the Fey, of course. He was an extremely skilled warrior. A master of the sword he weilded. It stirs an idea up within inside of her. “Could you teach me some of what you know?” Motions toward the weapon, and all he offers in response a swift nod.

A week later.

She’d never seen him so lively. So full of movements. But as he weilded the sword toward her, she’s awestruck. Father Carden was a beast, and a monster. A vile creature. But he surely toward Lancelot well. She’d retracted her earlier sentiment about using his given name - as their dusk meeting to fling swords at one another had become an every day thing. It seemed only respectful. If he was going to teach her, it was the least she could do. She felt like a master with the Devils Tooth already, but she knew it was the Hidden that guided her. There was room for improvement when it came to her fighting skills, and she found herself growing fond of the time they spent together. A part of her still hates herself for it.

“Distracted, today?” He questions, monotone as he is, he peers at her carefully. She shys away from his gaze, chocolate tendrils doing well to cast over her cheeks as she shakes her head.

“Never. Just awaiting your next move. I think I can already guess what it is.” She taunts, though there’s a mischievous grin settling upon crimson lips. And for the first time, she thinks ever, Lancelot is cracking the tiniest hint of a grin - before leaping forward into another lunge attack.

Two weeks later.

Sweat glistens in the rays of the sunlight, bouncing off the pairs bodies. They’d finished their practicing for the evening, and were now heading toward the lake to cool off. However, Nimue halts at the foot of the water, as Lancelot had already shed himself of his clothing, waist deep into the water. She’d only shown herself fully to Arthur - and he’s there in the back of her mind. Back at their makeshift camp, he was helping hunt for dinner. Gods, what’d he think of her right now? About to undress and indulge in a swim with someone who was once their enemy. It makes her stomach flip.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Applies the cool water to his long locks as he speaks, and she thinks herself he looks more so like an angel as opposed to what Father Carden had called him his whole life. A demon. She chuckles faintly, shaking her head. “Can you turn around?” He obliged without hesitation, and she appreciates that of him. Quickly, she’s tiffing off her garments, before slipping into the water. Careful to cover the entirety of her body.

He remains still though he had to of heard her come into the water. His back remains facing her, and it’s impossible not to notice the abundance of scars scattered about his shoulders and entire backside. It reminds her of her own, and she feels compelled to reach out and touch them. The pads of her fingertips smooth against the redness, soft. She didn’t want to startle him, but he tenses at the touch anyway. Something she expected. It’s abrupt, as he turns around, palm grasping fully at her wrist. “Don’t.” The single syllable leaves her frozen in place. Or perhaps it was his close proximity? A combination of both, she decides on.

“I’m sorry. We’re just... alike.” And she moves to find a grasp on the hand around her wrist, surprisingly he allows her to do so. The expression on his face was that if curiousity, as she moves his limb to rest against her shoulder blade, his fingertips mirroring her actions just seconds before. “See?” It’s a mere whisper, and when she lets go of him, he keeps it in place. Breath appears to be stuck in the back of her throat, and for a fleeting moment she’s thinking of Arthur.

It’s all flushed away as she makes a rather confident and last minute decision - pushing up the balls of her feet, it’s enticing as their lips meet for only a brief second. She’s petrified he’ll be disgusted. He’ll push her away - but wasn’t she supposed to be the one appalled with him here? Yet, he doesn’t move. He keeps the closeness between them, and she takes it as a motive to continue. Pressing full lips firmly against his own, petite hand finds place within his curls, and she feels as if she’s going to faint when he kisses her back.

It’s messy, and rough. Just like him. But she doesn’t mind. She never thought she’d want this, or stare at him long enough to wonder what his lips tasted like, but here she was. Finding the answer to that question. They tasted of salt, a mix of the water and the sweat from their pretend battle. Their tongues dance with one another, and goosebumps arouse her fair skin as his large hands find residence against her waist. Why was she craving this touch so badly? She doesn’t know, doesn’t have a clear answer. But as he does so, a muffled sound of pleasure emits into the others mouth, and she’s glad his eyes remained shut, as her cheeks flushed.

It’s as if her mind as gone completely blank, and all of her caution was thrown out the window. She’d never ached for someone this way, and she props one of her legs up around him, tugging him in flush up against her nude body. This earns a grunt of approval from him, and she yearns to hear more of them. It’s a swift action as her back is being pressed up against the side of the lake. Not a tactical place, but she wasn’t complaining as their lips continued to mesh together. She feels him between her legs, and can tell he’s not quite sure what he’s doing. It then dawns on her that he’s probably never done this before. Probably has never even kissed a girl before.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, breaking their kiss for a moment, her breath hot against his. “I want this.” Evidently she finds this is the only thing he needs to hear, pushing himself inside of her, slowly at first. The two’s noises of pleasure mix with one another in the air, as he’s beginning a rapid rhythm of thrusts inside of her. It was only the second time she’d done this, but why hadn’t the time with Arthur felt this good? Felt so right? It felt like Nimue and Lancelot were entangled within each other at this moment. Completely in their own world where the lust they silently held for one another could finally exposed and truly felt.

Grunts continue as his hands wander her body, exploring, and she likes it. It seemed as if he wanted to know every dip and crevice of it, as he was deep inside of her. Nimue’s head falls backward, mouth agape as his thrusts only quicken. He takes this opportunity, lips attaching to the exposed porcelain skin, nipping at sucking at the area. She feels ultimately euphoric as they reach their climaxes together.

It’s silent after, as he’s still inside her. Almost as if they’re both afraid to move and disturb the peace they’d just felt. However, the serenity could only last for so long, as he’s shifting his weight and moving a bit away from her, but not too far.

“Maybe we are,” he starts. “... alike, I mean.”

#cursed #weeping monk #nimue cursed #nimue #nimue x weeping monk #cursed fanfic #listen i made this side blog just to write this #please appreciate lmao #daniel sharman #katherine langford #nsfw.

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