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goldentournesol · 3 years

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Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go.

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story.

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot.

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.”

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly.

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly.

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze.

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him.

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting.

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation.

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words.

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch.

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset.

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

#im sorry #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #professor reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg

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thebadboyfanclub · 3 years

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Lamb For Slaughter (Aro Volturi x Reader)

So I finally found out how to put a tittle through my phone so we are back in business babies. This was requested by anon, Enjoy!

Bella and (Y/n) have been inseparable since she arrived in Forks, she was the one that helped her feel comfortable and welcomed the most out of everyone. She understood that Bella was not used to people taking into consideration how she felt or what she wanted, so (y/n) felt like it was necessary and helped her grow a bit of a backbone.

However, all her work went out the window when her boyfriend Edward left her. She became miserable, depressed and refused to heal from the heartache, (y/n) was a few years older than Bella so she had a grasp of how a break up at that age could make you feel lost and misunderstood so she remained a vague help in the shadows, trying to help Charlie in this process.

"Never in a million years I thought I would end up in this type of situation"

(Y/n) said to Alice as they walked towards the big entrance of where the "vampire royalty" lived. Alice gave her a ghost of a smile and it took no genius to see that she felt particularly nervous.

(Y/n) felt no empathy for her, especially now when in just a span of an hour she found out vampires existed, that they were vampires and apparently they were in trouble at the vampire police? She wished she was dreaming or joking yet they were no sight of cameras and she vividly remembered waking up from her nap hours ago.

As Alice effortlessly opened the big and what looked like quite a heavy door,only to be met by two tall strange men dressed in black, a shirtless Edward and a slightly disheveled Bella.

"Hello Demetri, Felix"

Alice greeted them as she took off her sunglasses. The two men looked at (y/n) with surprise before smiling.

"Another mortal, Aro won't be pleased"

"She has nothing to do with this"

Bella defended her as (y/n) tried to look confident under their gaze, she felt like she was under a microscope and most importantly that her life was at risk.

"Aro will be pleased, she is here for a reason"

"Am I? And if I am then what is the reason?" (Y/n) thought, still choosing to remain silent and observe the scene.

Before Alice could answer a young female voice was heard in the distance.

"Enough"

"Jane"

Edward was heard in a very shy and almost scared demeanor that made (y/n) hands get sweaty. As the extremely young girl approached and took off her hood you could see her red hues glistening that brought shivers in (y/n)'s spine.

"Aro send me to see what's taking so long"

At that they all silently followed the girl like sheep followed the leader. She could feel that something was not going to go well at the pit of her stomach yet she couldn't understand what would happen next.

As Jane opened the doors she was met with three men sitting in chairs a few steps higher than the marble floor, certifying their distance and higher standards than the others that walked in.

As soon as she walked in she felt tense and under a spell, the air felt stuffing like she could not take another breath or her lungs would explode.

"How wonderful, Bella is alive after all, isn't that wonderful? I love a happy ending, but they are so rare"

A man with long black hair and extremely fair complexion approached them, he seemed like the leader since his chair was more out front. He was firstly walking towards Edward but before he could fully stand in front of him the man froze. He had a strange aura surrounding him, made (y/n) get very hyper aware of her surroundings when they locked eyes.

"And… who is that?"

He asked in a high pitched yet kind of child like voice, it was disturbing to say the least. His entire presence resembles a lunatic to her yet he seemed very intrigued by her.

"That's (y/n) she is a friend"

"Friends, what an amazing bond to have. Allow me to introduce myself then dear (y/n)... I am Aro"

He said as he extended his arm to her. She gave him hers and he placed a slight kiss on her palm, his hands felt like solid ice against hers. Aro took a deep inhale of her scent that made him feel like his lungs were on fire and her blood was the antidote.

"Aaaaahh quel dolce profumo" (that sweet smell)

He said as she took her hand back in a swift motion. Bella was trying to understand what was happening while Edward felt torn between what was the right thing to do in this situation.

"I don't understand"

"Of course you don't dearest, do not be afraid of me, I want to protect you"

Aro reassured her yet she didn't feel relaxed, quite the opposite actually. As her eyebrows furrowed Alice pushed her a bit closer to Bella.

"What is going on?"

"Il mio cantante" (my singer)

"Can you stop with the Italian? And somebody please explain this to me"

She grew frustrated as her voice became louder. Alice decided that it was time someone helped (y/n), mostly because she felt bad, she saw what could happen if Aro saw her. She could help them survive

"You are Aro's mate, like Bella is to Edward"

"Excuse me?"

She could not believe it. There was no way her fate would be this crazy man that stood before her, it was baffling to her.

"There must be a mistake here"

"I'm wounded dear, I could give you the world"

Aro said without showing a hint of emotion. In his mind this was the most marvelous news, there she stood, his true second in command and he was sure she would make a great one. Another diamond for his coven

"Edward, what is going on?"

"I'm afraid Alice is right (y/n)"

"No, I'm not going to stay here. I have a life of my own"

"Unfortunately dearest I can't possibly let you go now, you belong here"

"I belong where my heart wishes and trust me my heart wants to get out of here"

"That could be arranged"

The blonde hair man that sat in the back silently watching hissed at her. At this point (y/n) fell in survival mode and if it was this strange man who could be her punching back then so be it.

"I'm not talking to you fu-"

Alice did not allow her to finish her sentence. She clapped her hand over (y/n)s mouth and pulled her back for everybody's safety

"It's for your own good"

Alice whispered in her ear while Aro went into a laughing fit. Alice freed her one (y/n) looked a bit more calm and less dangerous.

"She has a fire in her, you will be one of my greatest additions"

(Y/n) hasn't felt this helpless in ages, she valued her free spirit and the need to feel alive by choosing her fate at her own time. Now she was standing on a dead end that others forced her in.

"You knew about this? That's why you brought me here? Like a lamb for slaughter"

She turned to Alice, the feeling of betrayal written all over (y/n)s face. She didn't understand why Alice insisted in her tagging along but now it all made sense, she was a simple sacrifice for her beloved brother.

"It's not like that-"

"Okay, explain then"

Alice started looking around as her scattered thoughts did not help her to come out with an explanation to justify her actions.

"I'll stay here, just let them go please"

(Y/n) stated as she focused on Aro. She could sense what her future meant for her, she would become like them, eternally young.

"The girl knows too much, she is a liability"

The blonde one threw his two cents in. Even though she was caught in this because of them she felt pity for them, she saw first hand how Bella had become because of Edwards absence.

"Consider this as a deal, I won't put a fight on anything you need me to do but they will leave unharmed. Bella will become a vampire eventually"

"This is a rare occasion, however I feel charitable, take them away demetri. Would you like to say goodbye to your friends?"

Aro asked her. She felt he back tense up at those words, an ironic smirk painted her lips

"Friends? What a funny word."

Aro instructed Demetri to take them away with a simple hand motion while (y/n) felt tears cloud her eyes. As she heard them walk away Aro came closer to her and placed his hands on the sides of her face in a way to soothe her. His coldness reminded her for what's about to come, making her legs tremble.

"You'll be safe here dearest, you don't have to worry about anything"

#twilight imagines #twilight headcanon #twilight one shot #twilight #volturi imagine #aro volturi imagine #aro volturi #volturi #twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #aro volturi x reader #volturi x reader #the volturi #twilight x oc #twilight imagine

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skellebonez · 3 years

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Hmmm how about MK and Monkie King with number 1 and number 45

I wanted to write a follow up to a certain fill that got some wonderful art recently too! But then the finale happened and now I made it depressing, sorry. Spoilers for... everything as this is set 3 days after the final episode. This also plays around with the “Sun Wukong is still super immortal and powerful but...” and other theories. (second prompt line is only used as inspiration in fill)

Do not give me that look./ You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

The moment MK's curse was lifted and he was re-aged from 4 years old to adult Wukong acted like nothing had happened at all. No understanding conversations about how his powers could hurt him, no cooking together, no video games, and no accidental couch naps. It was as if the entire day had been undone to the sands of time.

But MK remembered and when the literal next day Wukong announced he was going on vacation... let's just say he was not happy in the slightest. He had tried to voice his objections, citing the Spider Queen as a prime example for why they should be worried, but the immortal monkey just flashed him dual thumbs up with a “Monkey King Out!” and flashed off somewhere MK couldn’t follow.

And now he was back and while MK had been more than happy to get going at first, to push everything that happened deep down inside him and ignore it for as long as possible (why was he doing that, he needed to stop doing that, look where that got them he was a mistake a bad choice as a successor and now he’s barely a successor at all) there was only so long he could go before it became clear there was more wrong than what Sun Wukong was telling him.

There was more wrong with Sun Wukong himself that he refused to admit.

He tried to hide it as well as he could. Despite the heat outside and the fur covering his body he still wore full body clothing. Hiding away the gashes and healing scars that riddled his form now. There was a nick in his eyebrow that had never gone away, and when MK watched closely he could see his mentor sometimes place his hand too far to the left when grabbing something. He walked with a slight limp, though that had improved over the last few days.

And he was quiet. Yes, when someone was addressing him he was “yeah totally, we got this fam, onward westward!”, but when MK caught him alone... especially outside on the deck of the drone, watching the horizon, he was more quiet and still than the Monkie Kid had ever seen him before.

Or maybe he was always like this and now Wukong was too hurt or distracted enough or just didn’t care anymore that MK was finally seeing him.

It was hard to tell with how distant he had been the last three days. Distant in the same way the day after the curse was lifted, but quieter.

“We need to talk,” He said from behind his mentor, watching as Wukong’s tail jumped only a little. Maybe that was just surprise at the words themselves. “Alone. Please.”

He expected Wukong to brush him off, to say “aw bud, can’t it wait? look at the sunset!” despite the sun having set so far they barely had any light left or something else. But instead he straightened up (MK heard the slight crack of his back again, much softer than when he had first heard it after their crash landing, and he wondered how much his back had healed from whatever injury it had) and turned to his student with an odd expression. Somewhat soft and fond and somewhat worried and resigned. Like this was more than just 3 days coming (and it was).

“Let’s... get something to eat first, alright?”

MK didn’t mention that they had eaten just over an hour ago.

They sat in the kitchen of the drone, alone under the dimmed lights with cups of tea and sliced fruit between them (mostly for Wukong). Neither had said anything as they prepared the small snack, and neither said anything as they sat down and took sips of their tea.

MK had made it slightly too strong.

“What did you want to ask first?” Wukong started off, picking up a peach slice and biting into it carefully. Slowly. This was something else that was noticed. Before when eating the Monkey King would just shove whatever he was eating in his mouth and MK wasn't certain he tasted it. But now it was like he was trying to make every meal last as long as possible. “There’s... a lot. I can tell.”

“We spent an entire day together and then you left without telling me anything,” MK said firmly, gripping the tea cup in his hands. He squeezed harder, just to see what would happen. It should have shattered... it didn’t. “Why didn’t you just... say something?”

“... I thought I was protecting you,” Wukong admitted honestly, taking another bite of peach. “And the city, the others... That if I acted distant you wouldn’t wonder where I went a-”

“Wouldn’t wonder wh- no!” MK interrupted, gritting his teeth. “No, Monkey K- Wukong.” The change in how MK addressed him made Wukong jolt, looking at him with wide eyes. He had never called him by his name before now. “We spent an entire day together. You took care of me, helped me when my powers went haywire, helped me make food! You never treated me like that before! You treated me like... Like I was...”

“My kid,” Wukong finished for him, now looking down into his tea cup. “MK... You’re an adult, I know that, but somewhere down the line I started to think of you as... I didn’t know till then I guess, and that terrified me. The idea of you getting hurt that day was the only thing that compared to admitting I got attached to you as more than just my student.”

Had this revelation come sooner MK might have been more surprised. More disbelieving. But after that day and everything that happened once the curse was gone...

“... you have a funny way of showing it,” MK snapped without thinking, eyes widening and jolting upright when he realized what he had said. “I-”

“Don’t,” Wukong said with a shake of his head, sipping his tea with a sigh. “You deserve to be angry with me. I talked to, uh... Pigsy? Sandy too. Tang.... Mei. Your boss in particular laid into me pretty hard after the excitement died down... Don’t know how I went 1000 years without knowing what a ‘lie by omission’ was.”

“... you abandoned me.”

“Yes... I didn’t mean it that way, but that doesn’t change that I did.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“NO.” Wukong said firmly, voice raised for the first time in days. MK glowered at him. “No, that is one thing I will not back down on. Yes, I lied to you and left you behind and that was a mistake I will need to make up for over a long time, but it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. I trusted you to take care of yourself, to teach yourself the lessons I left behind, and take care of the city. And you did! You did so much better than I even hoped for, and I hoped so badly that you would do as well as you did! I didn’t leave you there because I didn’t trust you, I left you there because I did... and because I thought I had to do everything myself...” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “I’ve been alone so long... I forgot I could do things with help on my end, I guess...”

“If... If Lady Bone Demon hadn’t finished what she was doing...?”

“Had the Lady Bone Demon not been working faster than I thought she was I would have come back with nothing less than even more trust in you as my successor.”

“... am I even still your successor without...?” MK trailed off, trying to keep his voice level. The tea cup still held strong.

“Yes,” Wukong assured, reaching out to put a hand on MK’s shoulder. MK noticed how he almost missed and corrected his hand. “The staff and my powers alone didn’t make you my successor. I picked you before those, remember? You’re still the Monkie Kid, MK. Nothing is going to change that for me.”

The young man went quiet for a moment, taking a shaky breath. He wanted to ask why he was chosen, what made him so special... but there would be time for that in the future. For now he had gotten at least some of his questions answered. But there was something much more pressing to touch on.

“,,, you’ve been lying to all of us,” he accused suddenly, reaching up and grabbing the wrist of Wukong’s hand on his shoulder before he could pull back. He looked his mentor in the face, watching as Wukong’s eyes widened in realization and horror. “Do not give me that look. Stop... please, stop lying. I’m not stupid, I can see you’re still hurt bad. You’re supposed to be invincible but you came back hurt and... and almost nothing can hurt you!”

Wukong didn’t meet MK’s gaze, looking down at their snack as he breathed heavily and shakily. He knew he was caught, that much was obvious.

“Please... talk to me, for once. I know I do the same thing, I lied to everyone else by not telling them about LBD or the calabash or Macaque coming back-” Wukong tensed at that, an odd sound escaping his throat. “-and look where it got us. We both need to talk. To everyone else. To each other.”

Wukong’s arm was shaking where MK held it, but he didn’t try to pull it back. Not until MK let it go. He sat back down, looking at the table like it held all the secrets of the universe before bringing his hand up to cover his eye. The one with the nicked eyebrow.

“Bud...” Wukong started, biting his lip. There was something wrong in his tone. “I... you were going to find out eventually. I can’t keep this up forever, not like Macaque can.” MK tensed at the mention of the other immortal monkey, watching as Wukong did not move his hand. “This takes a lot of focus. And... with my invincibility partly gone-”

“What?” MK asked, so soft he thought Wukong hadn’t heard him.

“... You didn’t get my powers from the staff, MK,” Wukong said. “And they don’t just duplicate. That’s not how they work. From day one I have been... siphoning my powers to you. Bit by bit. As you got better at controlling them I would give you more until I felt I didn’t need them myself anymore. When I locked away your invincibility I just undid what I had given you and slowed down the transfer... you’d been half invincible for weeks.”

“No...” MK started, slowly realizing what Wukong was implying. “No, no you’re lying again! This is a terrible, horrible prank!” Despite wanting to be quiet before MK found himself yelling. “Say you’re still lying!”

“No,” Wukong shook his head, looking down at the scar on his arm that was now visible as his sleeve had slipped down. “Most of this will probably heal eventually, except maybe one thing, and I’m still immortal! There’s no undoing that no matter what I do. I’m not dying any time soon. But my transformations? Cloning? My cloud...” He trailed off at that, breaking in a shaky breath. “You didn’t even get to use that... Lady Bone Demon took all of it when she took it from you. I still have some powers, some of my transformations and hair stuff and some invincibility... but I’m not the same overpowered Monkey King you met when you freed DBK...”

And as he trailed off, Wukong lowered his hand. Something flickered, something familiar. Too familiar. Reminiscent of Macaque’s shadows but brighter. And after there was something else reminiscent. In reverse.

MK had only seen it for a split second, when all of Macaque’s glamor magic had dropped. The milky white right eye and the scar over it that was left behind from his battle with Wukong 500 years ago.

And now Wukong looked at him with a similarly white left eye, a similar scar that wasn’t just a nicked eyebrow running down his face.

It makes sense in retrospect, much more. MK supposed that when you lose an eye you lose depth perception and it takes a while to get used to judging where things are.

“... what happened before you came in to save me?” MK asked quietly, watching as more of the glamor fell with a curse from Wukong. There was another nick on his cheek that was still healing, a piece of one of his ears had been ripped off too. No doubt there were more injuries under his clothes that Wukong hadn’t let anyone see.

“She has Macaque under her control,” Wukong said plainly, groaning as he held his head. “Damn, that... letting that down...” He groaned again and before MK could realize what was happening Wukong’s eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped from his chair to the floor.

“WUKONG!” MK shot up, rushing over to his side and yelling over his shoulder in the hopes someone would hear. “Pigsy! D-DADSY! Help, SOMETHING’S WRONG!”

When Pigsy rushed in with the others in tow Wukong hadn't regained consciousness.

#and i shall leave it there because I am clearly evil #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #monkey king #sun wukong #mk #qi xiaotian #lmk spoilers #i have too may theories and this is just one #prompt fill

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weasleydream · 4 years

Text

One step from happiness

Hi guys! How are you all?

Here is the very first Harry x reader I’ve written, and I absolutely don’t know what to think about this... If you could give me your opinion, it would be greatly appreciated!

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

Never in his life had Harry thought that once the war would be over, the first place he would want to see would be Privet Drive. To everyone and especially to him, it seemed impossible that he could miss anything from the place he had hated with such vigour, yet as he was sitting outside what had been Hogwarts, his thoughts drifted to someone who hadn't crossed his mind in months, if not years. Y/N. She was a muggle, her parents lived a few houses away from the Dursleys. If they were the kind of people aunt Petunia loved the most, their daughter had been the only one who had been kind to him. He still remembered the day she had shown up at the door with a bag of candies and had announced she was here for him. She had refused to give Dudley anything and after this day, her parents had refused to let her see Harry again.

But neither of them wanted to obey, and Y/N and Harry had kept seeing each other regularly until Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. From then, his mind had been too occupied and they hadn't had any contact since then.

Maybe it was because all of this was finally over, maybe it was because he wanted something to make sure the young boy he had once been was still somewhere in this adult body, fact is that Harry wanted nothing more than to see Y/N once again. Even younger, she had always been able to ease his mind in a unique way, and her smile could make anyone's heart flutter.

"What are we going to do now?" Asked Ron, making Harry slightly jump. "After some rest, of course. I can't wait to sleep in my room again."

"I'll go to Privet Drive."

Both Ron and Hermione looked at him in disbelief, their open mouth matching in a quite comical expression. While Ron was just incredulous, Hermione was looking like she suspected some kind of insanity, maybe some effect of all that had happened.

"There's someone I want to see. An old friend."

Ron smirked and elbowed him.

"A lady, huh? And here I thought it was a living hell… You're a little liar, aren't you?"

Harry laughed with his friends, enjoying his light heart. It felt like he hadn't been able to laugh like this for years. Sitting here with his closest friends, watching the sun getting down, Harry felt a bubble of happiness forming in him. It had been a long and painful way, but Voldemort was dead and everything was okay. He was truly happy.

A strange feeling took over Harry as he arrived in front of the house he had once lived in. This house that, despite being the place he hated the most as a child, had protected him in a way even Hogwarts couldn't have given him. Animated by a deep curiosity, he approached the door and almost knocked. Almost. Something had caught his eyes, making him stop dead in his tracks. It was a feather. A long white feather with very tiny black spots which was on the floor just in front of the door. Harry knew this feather too well as he used to find dozens of these in his room. Slowly, as if to make sure it wouldn't fly away, Harry grabbed the feather and stuffed it in his bag. Now thinking of Hedwig, the heart heavy, Harry decided to step back and left the little alley leading to the door. A black car passed next to him before turning and leaving the neighbourhood. For a second, Harry wondered why he felt like he knew this car, but then he realized. It was Y/N's parents'.

Harry walked toward her house, kinda afraid of how she could react. She had every right to be angry, after all he was the one who had stopped giving any sign of life. At the thought of her rejecting him, he suddenly felt his heart shattering and that almost stopped him dead in his tracks. But then he remembered he had just survived after fighting Voldemort, being rejected by a childhood friend wouldn’t kill him, right?

The front of the house hadn’t changed in all these years. Of course, the appearance was the same as all the houses of Privet Drive, pretty, simple, well maintained, but even the flowers decorating the windowsills and the mat seemed to be the same ones that were here the first time Harry had showed up at this door. It was funny how he seemed as anxious now as he was this day, when Y/N had invited him for her birthday.

A clear voice answered him only a second after he knocked.

“I’m here!”

And she opened the door. She looked even more beautiful than the last time Harry had seen her. Her Y/H/C hair was tied in the same ponytail she had always worn and her famous necklace, where her name was written, was shining on her black sweater. Her Y/E/C were still so bright, and currently wide open.

“Harry?”

“Hello, Y/N.” said Harry, waving before quickly scratching his head.

Y/N stayed still for another second before smiling broadly and grabbing his hand, practically pulling him inside. While Harry was mentally cursing himself for being so awkward, Y/N led him in the living-room which hadn’t changed either.

“It’s been so long!” exclaimed Y/N. She seemed so happy to see him that it warmed Harry’s heart. “What were you up to? Oh Harry, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I’m sorry for having been missing for so long. I had… some important stuff to take care of.”

“Of course, you and your famous secrets.” she said before smiling again, yet less largely.

“I’m sorry, really.” repeated Harry. “You would completely freak out if I told you, and I’m not the only one involved. It isn’t-”

“Up to you to decide whether you can tell me or not.” finished Y/N. “I know the song.” she added with a smile. “So, if what you’ve done these last years is highly classified stuff, can I ask you if you’ve been alright?”

It was the question Harry had feared the most. When he had decided he would come to see her, he knew one of the first things Y/N would want to know would be if he was okay. It had always been one of her biggest preoccupations, and even then Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the pain he was feeling deep down from her. For once, he wasn’t wrong: without being able to prevent it, he frowned and Y/N’s eyes immediately darken. She sat on the couch, patting the fabric next to her, and put her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked quietly.

Her big eyes were on him, showing all her worries but not bothering Harry at all. In fact, he felt more confident than he had ever felt - or at least than he had felt the last two years - and he suddenly felt the urge to tell her everything. Y/N seemed to feel the internal battle he was fighting and she slowly lifted her hand, her fingers softly brushing against his cheek.

“You’ve changed so much,” she murmured. “You’re a man now. The last time I’ve seen you, you didn’t seem that mature.”

“That’s because a lot has happened.”

Harry had put his hand on Y/N’s one and they stayed like this, looking each other in the eyes, both trying to process what was this tension between them and why it was so pleasant.

“You look sad.” she noticed, her voice filled with a sadness she was feeling because of her incredible compassion.

This is when, without really wanting it, Harry’s mind drifted off to the ones he had lost. His parents. Sirius. Lupin. Tonks. Fred. Hedwig. Dobby. Friends, family, dead because of all this war he had been embarked in. Sitting under Y/N’s gaze, he felt the tears invading his eyes and soon rolling down his cheeks. Y/N didn’t say anything nor did she remove her hand from his cheek. She just wrapped her second arm around him and rested her forehead against his. They stayed like this for a while, until Harry’s tears were dried off. Then Y/N spoke up, her sweet voice reaching straight to his heart.

“Whatever happened, it’s over now. You can heal from your wounds. Everyone is constantly trying to find peace, Harry. You are not alone, and you’re only one step from happiness. Make peace with what’s haunting you and I swear you’ll feel better. I can help you, if you want.”

“How do you do this?” whispered Harry while his hand was losing itself in her hair. “Making me feel better, knowing that now everything is over. You’ve always known better than myself.”

“You wouldn’t be here if your important stuff wasn’t over, would you?” she smiled, and Harry felt the corner of his lips curling up. “As for how I can make you feel better, it’s just because you deserve it. You’ve always deserved it, Harry. The young boy as much as the adult, all I’ve ever wanted was you to be happy.”

“I feel like now I can be.”

“Now you can be.”

And in the same way it had felt natural to come back to Privet Drive after the war, it felt natural for Harry and Y/N to kiss. Maybe it was the step he needed, maybe now he would finally be happy. With Y/N in his arms, it certainly felt so.

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x yn #harry potter x you

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cinnamon-bebe · 3 years

Text

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader)

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal X Fem!Reader)

Summary: "If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" What happens when you've sacrificed your love for fame and fortune? Despite the glitz and glamour, the Reader is all Pedro can think about. The stars have never been on your side but can you rewrite the plans they have for you?

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Occasional Cursing

Inspired by the song Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey

"I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club"

"Baby what's your sign?"

"You're in the wind, I'm in the water

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter

Watching the chemtrails over the country club"

Pedro's POV

The chatter of a hundred people and yet I still only hear your voice. Memories of your words, from years past.

You asked me what my sign was, I told you I was an Aries. You laughed and told me we shouldn't be friends, the stars say so. The stars say we're incompatible, we'd be at each other's throats. I'm a fire sign and you didn't need any more drama. I kissed you for the first time and told you I'd prove you wrong, you simply smiled and looked off to the chemtrails that flew over us.

Memories from years past.

I didn't have much to offer you but I told you that you could take my word. At that time, it was worth more than anything I could have given you.

"You want me to defy the stars?" You raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing your face.

"The stars can go fuck themselves." I told you and kissed you again.

We were so young. We were nobodies. Running through the concrete jungle, with your hand in mine. Sun dress and kisses at midnight convenience stores, splitting a hot dog on a summer day because we needed money for the show at 7.

We used to contemplate the meaning of life over a bottle on our little balcony. I asked you if you were happy and you smiled but did not reply.

"If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" You asked me instead.

"No." I told you. "There's so much more I want to do. I want to be somebody."

I didn't know it then but that was the moment I started to lose you.

Memories from years past.

I find myself sitting at a restaurant now, with more money to line my pockets, pats on the back from strangers. People know my name and it comes out in whispers, as they stare over their expensive plate, getting cold just to catch a glimpse of me.

A beautiful woman sits across from me. As if a movie star isn't a big enough draw, a woman like her only invites more gazes. She looks like she'd just stepped off a screen herself. She gives me all her attention, so much so that she does not register the envious stares from the others around her.

Her lips are moving, perhaps a funny anecdote came to mind or is she telling me about her sister's wedding again that she mentioned before? I cannot tell you, for my mind is elsewhere, with someone else.

"So would you like to come?" She smiles brightly at me, her perfect teeth sitting between her lips, painted in a dusty pink.

"Huh?" I snap out of my daze, embarrassed that I was clearly not paying attention.

"Jule's wedding, did you...want to be my date for the day?" She blushes, hopeful.

"Oh. I...uh. I don't know Kate. I have a pretty packed schedule coming up, I don't know if I'll have time." I try to make up an excuse.

"It's too early isn't?" She bites her lip sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I know we've only been dating for a few weeks, I shouldn't have sprung this up on you so fast."

"No no, please don't be silly. I love weddings!" I try to laugh it off. "It's just that, with the new movie coming up, I need to start preparing before we go into production."

"I understand." She nods with a smile, "Comes with the territory when you're dating a big movie star I guess." She looks at me, I'm not sure if she's anticipating a response but I reciprocate with a grin and wave at the waiter for another drink.

Soon enough, she excuses herself from the table to go to the ladies room and I'm left sitting alone at our spot. I grow tiresome of the incessant chattering from the tables around me and I massage the temples of head, wishing I was at home in the comfort of my bed with just the company of my television.

I see glances from a small table to the side of me, a group of young women clearly too shy to ask for a photograph, egging each other on to make the first move over to me. Their hopes quickly dashed as I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, turning me around.

"Pedro?" A familiar voice calls my name.

"Anthony! Fancy seeing you here!" My eyes widen as I pull an old friend down for a hug.

"It's my anniversary with Charlize, we're just celebrating! God I haven't seen you for so long!" He shakes his head, slowly looking me up and down, examining my so-called transformation. I've aged so much since we last we saw each.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"A couple of hours, I actually saw you before but I..uh...I didn't want to interrupt your date."

Date? I swallow the word whole.

"You lucky man. She's very pretty." He comments.

"Yeah, she is."

"You could seem a bit more interested though but those are Charlize's words, not mine." He raises his hands up, letting his wife take the blame.

"I must seem like an ass, don't I?" Poor Kate, how spoilt am I to show a woman like her so little interest. "I haven't dated for so long, it's just hard getting back into the scene that's all."

Anthony let's out an inaudible "oh" and I know he's thinking the same thing, I can practically hear the name sitting on his tongue, desperately wanting to come out.

"How is Y/N?" I break the ice, allowing the elephant in the room an escape before he suffocates along with me.

"She's good, very good actually. She's a documentary film maker now. Her work is amazing, you'd love it." Anthony couldn't help his excitement when speaking about you and I feel an intense pang of sadness and jealousy seeing his eyes light up. To see you, celebrate you. I wonder if you've aged like me or do you still look the same as how I remember. Do you still crinkle your nose every time you hear a bad joke? Do your eyes still get red and glassy when you look at the sky because you're wondering if anyone's looking down on you? I wish I knew.

"Listen, I have to go." Anthony looks back at his wife who gives me a polite wave from a distance.

"It was really good seeing you Anthony, I'm sorry we haven't spoken all these years. It's just with work..." I recycle that old excuse again.

"Don't worry about it...you made it! I know you worked really hard to get where you are now. I know you had to make a lot of sacrifices..." The last sentence, spoken so softly, it was almost drowned out. "I'm genuinely happy for you."

I nod, giving my friend one last hug before I ready for him to turn and leave, instead he hesitates and looks at me.

"Hey Pedro?"

"Yeah?"

"She still lives in the neighbourhood." He looks down at the scarf in his hand before patting me on my arm. "Just so you know."

With that, he waves me goodbye. Walking back to his wife, who he wraps his arm around. The way she naturally rests into him and slips her hand into his coat pocket as they exit the restaurant, I wonder if I'd ever have that level of intimacy with Kate.

__________________________________________________

I sent her home in a taxi. "I have an early morning and need to prep for some meetings", my excuse for her this time. Kate's disappointed expression, as I gave her a kiss on the cheek is the last thing on my mind.

Scuffing the cap of my leather shoes, I kick at the pavement. The world moves past me as I hide myself in the bubble of my thoughts. I have no sense of direction, my legs taking me to no intended destination, only letting the neon lights around guide me to where it desires.

Anthony's words were still ringing in my ears.

Would you want to see me?

My mind reminds me of the last time we were together.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, if I don't leave the city now, I may never get my chanc-"

"Get your chance to do what? Be a star?" You were sat deep in the corner of the sofa, far from me. Your voice calm and monotonous as you watched me pace up and down our tiny apartment. I couldn't decipher your expression, it was as if you knew what I was going to say.

"I want to make something out of my life! I want to prove to everyone and myself that I can make it Y/N. I don't want to waste my life away." I moved towards you, our presence separated by the little vintage coffee table I hated but still bought home because you loved it so much.

"Well then go, I don't want to hold you back from chasing your dreams."

"Y/N-"

"No. It's okay Pedro. I understand...I really do. I don't want to stop you from pursuing what you love." You got up from your spot, you seemed so small to me as you closed the gap between us. Your hand felt so light against my face, like you were disappearing before me. "Don't live in regret because of me."

"Y/N come wi-" I tried to hold you, hold you before you evaporated.

"No. My place is here." You took your hand away, moved back, the space between us grew more and more distant. "I don't have big dreams like you do. I like normality. I like living my life however I want it, do whatever I want, whenever I want. You asked me if I was happy...and I am."

"Would you still be happy without me?"

I stared at you. My gut sank because I already knew this was the end. You didn't have to tell me.

"I don't know..." You managed to smile, even through the gentle tears that formed in your eyes. "But I know you would be without me."

"That's not true." I tried to reach for you but you pulled away.

"We're very different people Pedro...I told you, we're incompatible. It's time we listened to the stars."

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted as I feel a hand rest softly on the small of my back.

"Hello sir, would you like to buy a rose?" An elderly woman smiles up at me. A child stands obediently nearby, holding a bouquet of individually wrapped stems, clearly past his bedtime but still helping Grandma late at night. The child looks tired, sad. Judging by the number of roses still in his hands, they must have had an unlucky day.

"How much for one?" I return her kind smile, taking out my wallet.

"$2. Thank you, thank you so much sir." The old woman sighs in relief calling the child over to bring the flowers for me to pick. Each stem had a handwritten tag with various cheesy sentiments adorned.

....A kiss in exchange for a rose...

...You're more beautiful than any flower but here's one to show you my love anyway...

....Would you be my Valentine?...

....Please forgive me, I was an idiot.

I chuckle at the last one before picking a rose at random.

I take out $100 and watch the old lady's eyes panic as she reaches in her purse to find change. Taking her hand firmly in mine, I assure her it wasn't necessary.

"I'll take one rose for the $100. You keep the rest of the flowers and have a good night okay?"

The woman looks at the child with her mouth agape and then back at me, clearly taken aback by the gesture.

"Sir, are you sure?"

"Yes, take the kid home and get some rest. This one rose itself is worth every dollar." I pat her hand which trembles in mine.

"Thank you! Thank you! Bless you and the woman who receives your rose!"

Taking the child's hand they quickly walk away, whispering to each other and disappearing into the night.

I stare at the flower in my hand and bring it closer to my face, studying the message on the tag.

...Let's defy the stars and write our own destiny.

I stand in the dark of night, illuminated only by the cafe lights ready to turn off for the day. My hand grips the stem as if it weighed a hundred tons yet afraid it would float away like a feather. The frantic honking of the traffic seems to taunt me, the laughter from the bars nearby seem to be mocking this idiot of a man standing in the middle of the streets, holding a flower he paid $100 for.

"Just do it!" I hear a young boy shout at his friend attempting a skateboard trick up the block.

Just do it. I repeat to myself. Just fucking do it.

"Taxi!"

_________________________________________________

I remember these steps, we used to sit here with the neighbours' kids. Charlie, I think that was his name? I remember little Charlie proposing to you with a plastic ring and threatening to get his kindergarten buddies on me, simply for existing. I can't help but laugh at that memory.

Everyone was in love with you, the young, the old. They couldn't help but fall for your charms, your kindness, the way you'd smile at them even if you've never spoken a word to each other. Everyone was under your spell, including me.

You told me you loved me on these steps.

I had gotten back from a bad audition and couldn't bear to go home to you. I sat here for hours until you saw me from the balcony and came down. You didn't ask me anything. You just sat with me as we watched the kids run up and down the block, racing each other, teasing each other. I looked at you and you gave me a kiss on the nose.

"I love you."

You said it so quietly at first that I pretended I didn't I understand.

You rolled your eyes and pulled my face into yours, telling me you loved me over and over again as you smothered me with your kisses.

That was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Walking past our faded figures, I enter the building and see that nothing has changed.

The walls were the same duck egg green. The bulletin board covered in layers of flyers and advertisement, some new, with plenty dated months back. I wouldn't be surprised if the audition ads I tried out for from years ago were still there.

The smell of various cuisines mingle together to form its own unique indecipherable aroma.

A comforting aroma.

I look to the elevator, still out of order. Obviously.

We only lived on the third floor, the stairs will be fine.

I prepare myself for the incline when a voice calls out to me.

"Where are you going?"

I turn around and see our old building superintendent, decked out in his uniform. Stanley.

"Stan! It's me Pedro! Wow, you're still here!" I walk to him.

"Who?" He looks me up and down, completely confused as to who the hell I am.

"Pedro from 3B upstairs? I used to live with Y/N...maybe you don't remember me because of the moustache." I rub the bottom of my nose sheepishly.

"No...I don't remember you."

Old Stanley, perhaps age is catching up to him.

"I'm just going to see Y/N." I try to resume my journey but he stops me once more.

"No entry into the building if you're not a resident!" He points to the sign on the wall.

"Since when was that a rule?" I throw my hand in the air.

"Since today. We have too many unsavoury men try to come into the building, how do I know if you really know Miss Y/L/N? I'm not letting any potential predators or burglars into the building."

"But Stan she-"

Pointing to the sign on the wall again, he raises an angry brow. Not wishing a full body beat down by ol' Stan, I take myself back out the building like a bad dog.

I sit on the steps, sighing in defeat. I try to convince myself that coming here is a mistake.

"Defy the stars...pfft! You've been in way too many movies Pedro." I mumble to myself, as I dig my thumb nail into the stem of the rose.

Perhaps we're only given the choice to rewrite our destiny but it doesn't mean destiny would just sit idly by and let you do whatever you want. It's probably for the best. What would I say anyway?

Running my hand through my hair, I get up to leave. The adrenaline from earlier had drained so quickly out of me, that its left me a fatigued mess. Move on Pedro, it's time to go home.

"Hey movie star." A voice calls from above. "You looking for me?"

Your hair falls past your face as you lean over the balcony and in that moment I feel my heart break into a million pieces.

There you are.

Standing before me, even more beautiful than when you left, if that is even possible.

You're wearing a simple white vest and grey shorts, one leg rubbing softly against the other. Your skin bears the warm orange glow reflected from the lights inside your apartment.

You look so raw, so delicate.

Every pulse in my body aches seeing you again.

"Wow." I breathe. "You look..."

You hide your laugh and I can see you blushing from behind your hand.

"Thanks. You look great too. I'm like the...um..." You rub under your nose with your finger.

"Thank you, I grew it out for a role but now people tell me I look like their grandma without it." I shrug, much to your amusement.

"What are you doing here?" You speak, more softly, more seriously.

How do I even respond to this question? I was out on a date with another woman but I bumped into our old friend who told me I should find you? Or should I go with I met an old woman and her kid, who I'm pretty sure were cupid's little minions, sent down to earth to give me a rose and to fuck with me?

"I was just in the neighbourhood. I wanted to see if you wanted to um...go out for a coffee?" I lie.

You look at me incredulously, clearly seeing through my bullshit.

"Everything is shut by now." You simply respond.

"Oh...well maybe we can just talk then?"

You tap the metal rails, where you lay your arms. Are you contemplating whether to come down or throw a bucket of water over me? I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Without saying a word, you disappear out of sight. The lights in your apartment switches off.

What does this mean? Are you off to bed?

Before I could ruminate any more, the doors open from behind me and you slip through.

God, you look even better up close.

My hands instinctively reach out to touch you but I withdraw quickly before you could see. You had wrapped yourself in a fleecy blanket, the threads a deep purple.

Without saying a word, you sit down on the step and I can only follow suit, my mind can no longer make decisions for itself it seems.

You smell the same, that same soft floral scent I used to love. The one I used to breathe in when I'd hold you close to me in bed because I didn't want you to leave for work.

Our knees are so close, they almost touch.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

For a minute I don't know how to respond, I just don't want to stop looking at you.

"I was...I was wondering if you were thinking about me?"

You laugh, I laugh too. Of course you weren't.

"I think about you all the time." You tell me so casually, it catches me off guard.

"You do?" I whisper in disbelief.

"It's hard not to when you're on every other billboard in the city."

Oh.

"I think about you all the time too Y/N."

You smile and look up at the sky. The night is aligned with many stars tonight and they all call for your attention but mine. I feel greedy staring at you but I'm simply making up for all the nights that I was alone without you, all those kisses I've shared with women that weren't you.

"What do you think the stars are telling us tonight?" I ask.

You grin and without looking back at me, you say "I think the stars are laughing at us."

"Do you think the stars have changed their mind about us?"

You finally turn to me, your eyes drop. "I don't think that's how it works Pedro."

"If this is the life the stars have planned for me, a life without you, then I don't want it Y/N."

"Pedro-"

"I thought if I made a name for myself, if people knew who I was, then I'd be sure of who I am...but who I'm meant to be, who I want to be...is to be with you." Your eyes meet mine, coloured with emotions you are scared to express. "I look for you everywhere I go Y/N, in every women I meet but you are always a world away."

"We don't even know each other anymore Pedro."

"You are the only one who has always known who I am, even before me Y/N. I'm still as strange and as wild as I have always been. I'm still as messy and as clumsy as I was before. I still love cheap corner store liquor and dancing terribly in public. I still look at chemtrails whenever they past me...because they remind me of you."

"Chemtrails are bad for you, they say they're chemicals." You tell me, your voice low and expressionless.

"If I die with you as my last thought, it won't be so bad."

I finally find the courage to reach for you and you don't recoil from me, you let me gently run my finger against the hair that falls down past your face. You close your eyes and I selfishly take you, pulling you towards me.

I rest my forehead against yours and I savour this moment where I can be close to you and not let it be a memory.

"What if I've changed?" You whisper.

"Well then I'll spend the rest of my life getting to know you again."

"If I told you to run away with me tonight, would you?" You open your eyes to see me, your expression as serious as ever.

"You're my home Y/N. I'll go wherever you go. Even if it's to another galaxy, we'll drive a little red Corvette into space together and leave this all behind."

You smile and tug on the bottom of your lip. "You think the stars would still allow us to go to space?"

"Fuck the stars." I say as I take your lips.

Oh, how I've missed the sweetness of your taste; in this moment you are spoiling me rotten. You wrap your arms around me and allow the blanket to drop from your shoulders. The only stars that mattered now are those in our eyes. They're telling me the future and it's you. It's always been you.

The sirens of the city and the plane overhead may be loud but I hear nothing over the sound of your heart beat.

You pull away and we both laugh.

In this moment, we are perfect. I am no longer the famous celebrity that belonged to everyone. I am not a son and you are no one's daughter.

We only belong to each other.

I see you shiver and look towards the door.

"Let's go inside." You get up and take my hand, guiding me back to our home. The one I've longed for ever since I left.

The building is quiet, everyone asleep by this hour but old Stan at his desk. I try to shuffle past as inconspicuously as I could, my hand entwine with yours.

"Welcome back Mr Pascal." Stanley greets us as clear as day, his head not even looking up from above his phone.

"Wha- so you do remember me!"

Sly old dog.

Stanley doesn't respond and concentrates on his screen instead.

You shake your head and pull me up the steps but not before I set down my lucky rose on the desk.

"Good night Stan."

I call out before I chase my love up the stairs, both of us ready to write our next chapter together. I don't know what it will entail but I know if you're in it, it will be the greatest adventure I'll ever take.

"Kids these days." Stan sighs, closing the article on his phone and clicking on a familiar app. Putting his feet up, he relaxes with a smile on his face as the Mandalorian theme song begins to play.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #javier pena #pedro pascal x reader #narcos #ww1984 #maxwell lord #oberyn martell #game of thrones #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal imagine #fanfiction #chemtrails #lana del rey

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andraaste · 3 years

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I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 9

So, here's the last chapter for now. I hope I can introduce you to the next one fairly quickly, but it's still being written. Hoping you liked those already released and see you soon for chapter 10 🐉

(Link for Chapter 10 here)

Chapter 9 : I've always been used to only showing my human form

My footsteps echoed in the silent of the Guards' Corridor. I had just left Lance's room and it was with a much lighter heart than when I entered that I walked away. The distant rumor of the happy conversations had finally died down, leaving me wondering how long I had been able to spend with the dragon.

Finally, I didn’t regret my impromptu visit. Even if our understanding remained fragile and our points of convergence continued to darken the picture, his presence had nevertheless proved, in many respects, more beneficial than harmful. So, to my surprise, I never believed that one day I would come to beg for his patience to relieve my ailments.

Unlike the last time, it was with a feeling of euphoria that I could feel the magic continue to flow through me. Not as vigorously as when I awakened my powers, but undoubtedly, its power had slowly returned to pulsating in my veins. When I wiggled my fingers, I could still feel bits of heat run through my muscles. And the strangest thing about it was that instead of wearing me out, this power rush seemed to invigorate me.

For the first time in weeks, I felt good.

Looking up, I noticed that a small figure was wandering right in front of me. In the half-light of the corridor, I narrowed my eyes to try to make out her more clearly. When she passed in front of one of the windows, the moonlight let me see the face of a little girl with long, light hair. Not seeming to notice my presence, she continued to wander until she reached the entrance to the Crystal Room, right next to me. When the girl finally reached my height, I was surprised to find myself overcome by a familiar feeling.

Did I know this child ?

The young girl finally entered the room without a glance in my direction. Intrigued and attracted by her aura, I decided to follow suit.

I entered in my turn cautiously and almost immediately, a feeling of serenity had seized my heart when my gaze rested on the immense Crystal enthroned religiously in the center of the large room. On the doorstep, I was dumbfounded for a moment.

Strangely enough, I had not been back here since waking up. Truth be told, I had even avoided that room in which I had spent far too much of my life.

However, I didn’t know for what reason.

Bathed in a soft light, the Crystal seemed so imposing to me that I could not look away for several seconds. Without realizing it, my steps slowly led me to it, my hand timidly extended in front of me. As my fingers approached the smooth surface of its barrier, I felt the warm energy of my powers unleashed down my arm to the palm of my palm. Kinds of tingling covered me almost entirely and it’s the shortness of breath that I felt one of my fingers cross the protection which surrounded the luminescent crystals.

- Andraste ?

I jumped even more at the hearing of the voice that echoed behind my back. As if caught in the act, I quickly withdrew my hand and turned to my interlocutor.

It was his long blonde hair that I noticed first.

- Leiftan, what are you doing here ?

How had I managed not to realize his presence ? Since the big battle, aengel and I were connected. Whenever he stood next to me, I got to feel his emotions as if they were mine, and probably the other way around.

- I'll turn the question back to you, he said to me, his face marked by a certain curiosity. I couldn't get to sleep. When I left my room, I saw you come out of one of them and lead you here.

He marked a silence full of innuendo before adding, in a much colder tone :

- From Lance's, it seems to me.

I tensed at hearing his last sentence. A dull anger seized for a short moment in my heart and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was not mine.

- Yes, I just needed to clear some things up with him.

- At this time of night ?

I had the impression of undergoing the interrogation of a jealous lover, except that it did not concern him.

- I have no further explanation for you, Leiftan.

The latter didn't answer anything and just probed my face.

I had seen him very little lately. The aengel seemed to do his utmost to flee any presence and to keep away from all responsibility. I had already tried to ask him to train me, especially about my powers because until now, he had been the only one who could help me, but he had each time declined my requests.

- Good. But I reiterate, what are you doing here in the middle of the night ?

His anger had subsided, I only felt a great calm accompanied by a touch of curiosity. But his question brought me back to reality.

Where had the little girl gone ?

I realized that I had not seen her since I entered the room.

- I saw a child come in here, I said, hesitating to continue. There was something strange about her.

- Can you explain to me ?

I was a little confused on how to phrase it. How do I tell him that his aura attracted me ?

- She reminded me of... the Oracle, I finally let go.

His eyes widened slightly at what I was advancing, but he quickly regained his composure.

- I think I know who you're talking about.

- Really ? I exclaimed, in my turn surprised.

- Yes, Huang Hua reported to me the presence of a child in the HQ that nobody knows anything about. She does not speak, but some people have speculated that there is a connection between her and the Oracle.

I couldn't believe my ears. This little one has something to do with the Oracle ?

- I have for my part never crossed, I can tell you nothing more.

- Do you know how long she's been at HQ ?

He knew very well where I was going with this.

- It seems to me that she was noticed for the first time shortly before our return, he announced to me, his face serious.

Leiftan and I pondered his words. Our awakening was clearly not trivial, something strange was manifesting itself on Eldarya and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

- I'll leave you, it's getting late and I think you might be better off doing the same.

He walked towards the hallway door and added quietly :

- Good night, Andraste.

Giving me one last look filled with infinite sadness, he finally left the room.

- Good night, Leiftan, I answered weakly.

Two days passed following these two unexpected interviews and the guard finally charged me with a few simple missions which occupied my days. My visit to the dragon chamber had really been fruitful, because since our discovery on the possible communion of our powers, I had the impression that mine had never really left me. I had thus discovered that I was again able to send a faint light from my hands, even in the absence of Lance, which gave me incredible surges of energy. I was finally starting not to tire myself at the slightest effort, even if I continued to perceive anomalies in my physical state, which did not prevent my mood from being markedly improved.

Having joined the Obsidian Guard, I had therefore started to perform the few requests that I was able to do as long as there was no specific mission to perform. I walked through the forge when I heard a voice that I recognized immediately.

My heart was racing against my will.

- We're going to need enough materials to consolidate these weapons. It will also be necessary to train new recruits and see their level in combat. I don't have time to train everyone, but I trust you to give me your feedback.

Without being noticed, I walked over to a shelf and put down what I had just bought at the market. Trying to concentrate on my task, I couldn't help but strain my ears.

- No worries boss, you know you can count on me. I already have some reports for you.

- Very good. Thanks Falco, it's a great job.

The young man by the name of Falco put a solemn fist on his heart and bowed slightly before stepping out of the forge. I was speechless. It was the first time that I had seen Lance as the leader of the guard and I had to admit that he seemed made for it. His naturally bossy tone commanded respect, and I was troubled to see the trust and admiration his subordinates seemed to have in him.

Pretending not to have noticed it, I bustled about my task and listed the effects I had just bought before putting them away in each compartment. After that, I gathered the things I needed to be able to complete my missions for the day and get out of here. But to my chagrin, one of the items on the list was at the top of one of the shelves. Huffing in annoyance, I reached out as far as I could but only managed to touch the end of the object. I was about to give up the idea when an arm appeared in my sight and effortlessly grabbed the mesh I needed. Standing behind me, I didn't have to see him to know who he was, though.

The tanned hand of the leader of the Obsidian patiently handed the object to me.

Turning my head, I fell on a bluish gaze plunged into mine. I grabbed the object not avoiding the trouble, I was going to succeed in catching it.

- Thank you, but it was not worth it, I was going to manage to catch it.

A carnivorous smile stretched his features.

- Yet I thought I understood the reverse.

- It must be because of your chivalrous soul, you can't help but rescue a young girl in distress.

Lance gave a deep laugh that echoed close to my ear. He then pretended to look for a parchment in front of me and very quickly, I found myself stuck in the space of his arms. The rest of his words echoed even closer.

- It's true, but I think it's only in your presence, that.

He wasn't looking at me as he said those words, focused on a point straight in front of him. I remained frozen in place, I was far too aware of his proximity all around me to dare a movement.

- And so, you felt compelled to help me? It's funny, I knew you rather inclined to serve me more than anything else.

I felt the dragon smile behind my back.

- You're not wrong. But didn't you already tell you that I had changed ?

- Yes. And far too many times for my taste, if you want to know.

His laughter echoed between us once again and I couldn't help but smile too. He eventually found the parchment he was looking for and finally withdrew his arms, allowing me to finally resume my normal breathing.

- You are free tonight ? he asked me as if nothing had happened.

In response, I gave him a dumbfounded look that amused him once again. He was definitely in a good mood today.

- It seems to me that you asked me for help with a certain thing and that I suggest you do that tonight.

With a lump in my stomach, I found myself knocking on Lance's bedroom door again at a late hour, preferring to avoid the busy times in the hallway so as not to be surprised. This time, the dragon opened me much faster and moreover, he had taken care to keep some of his armor while still being more comfortable. Without a word, he let me in as if the gesture had already become a habit, and closed behind my back just as eloquently. He moved away from the clapper and briskly walked around me to remove his gloves and place them on his desk.

He seemed to ignore me completely. I waited several seconds but he definitely showed no sign of starting a conversation.

- So like that, you invite a girl to your room and you play the distant guy? I gave him bluntly.

Taken aback, the dragon looked at me with a strange eye, looking amused but also ...

An amused smile was born on his lips.

- You would have more interest in remaining a nice girl and not looking too much for me on this ground, you know. I will not hold back indefinitely, he said, planting his gaze on mine, in which I thought I read some undisguised envy.

Did I understand what he meant ?

My god, I was very hot all of a sudden.

- Lance ...

Seeing that he had managed to confuse me, the dragon seemed to revel in having cornered me. Because if I answered, the slope could become too slippery and we both knew it.

He laughed under his breath before finally changing the subject.

- Do you have any news about your powers ? he asked me.

Relieved, I smiled slightly before rolling up my sleeve and letting the beams of light travel up my arm. I thought I saw an imperceptible admiration appear on his face.

- Their feeling hasn't left me since the other night. It's still very weak, I can barely use it, but they're there, I finished with a hint of pride.

Lance tilted his head, suddenly looking thoughtful.

- It's a very good start. We will already start by focusing on this element before tackling a more complicated one.

- More complicated ?

- Well in my memories, you had a huge pair of wings on your back, he said with a thin smile.

My wings ... it is true that with Leiftan, he was the one who had seen my powers the most at work, in the end. Even though it was clearly not in the best of conditions. Thoughtful, I passed an absent hand between my shoulder blades but unsurprisingly, no trace of wings marked my back.

- It's true, I would love to find them, I said softly.

A memory suddenly came back to me.

- Tell me, the other night when I left your room, something rather strange happened.

- What ? he asked me, suddenly really intrigued.

- Going out into the hallway, I passed a child walking alone. She didn't seem to have noticed my presence. She went to the Crystal Room and when I followed her, she sort of ... disappeared.

Lance seemed to think for a moment.

- It is probably Ophéliai where it comes from, even if some hypothesize...

- That she would have a connection with the Oracle, I continued in his place.

Like every time something intrigued him, he raised one of his eyebrows.

- Indeed. But why are you telling me about it ?

I pursed my lips. I hadn't told anyone what had happened before Leiftan arrived in the room.

- When I entered, I felt a kind of connection between the Crystal and me. My powers absolutely seemed to want to manifest, and I don't know how that protective barrier works, but when my finger went through it...

- Wait, he stopped me, you crossed the barrier ?

I hesitated for a moment. Was it a good idea to confide in him ?

- Yes, at least, I had started to cross it. But the closer I got, the more I felt that my aengel strength was taking over. It was ... powerful.

Lance was silent for a long time, seeming to analyze my words. I clearly didn't like his silence.

- I think it's not for nothing if you saw her that night precisely, he began. You had just reactivated your powers, and if Ophelia really has a connection to the Oracle, it wouldn't be surprising if she sought to get in touch with you. The barrier is an enchanted protective field, normally no one is supposed to be able to cross it, but I guess that last point is not for you.

He paused again before concluding :

- I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but the Oracle seems to try to push you to use them, or at least to find them.

The words of the leader of the Obsidian echoed what I had feared. The Oracle seemed to want to get in touch with me, but for what reason exactly ?

I wondered if Leiftan's presence that evening was really harmless...

- Hopefully I can find them entirely, then. I don't feel that all of these events are heralding anything good.

- Me neither, if you want to know everything, he said in a serious tone. In any event, this proves that the process will have to be speeded up. I also thought about what happened between our respective magics, and I would like to try something else.

Playfully, Lance slowly approached the center of the room. When he reached my height, I was amazed to see ice blue scales appear along his skin. Escaping from the collar of his top, they went up to the bottom of his face, much like when he had marked me with his streaks two days before. His arms and hands also covered, more sparsely, and soon I could see a dragon tail wagging calmly behind his back.

I was totally fascinated by his appearance. I had seen him in his draconian form before, but never that way. Seeing him half transformed in this way reminded me of Tia, his mother, whom I had seen by his side in the memories of his ancestors in Memoria.

As if drawn in spite of myself, I raised a hand and let it slide along the scales that covered the base of his jaw. Rigid and cold, I felt them vibrate slightly under my fingers as his gaze never left me. Lance looked surprised at first, straining under my fingers, but finally let me.

- Do you feel better like that ? I asked him, watching the play of lights reflecting off the blue of his now hardened skin. Tia seemed more comfortable in this form, did you too ?

The dragon did not move a millimeter, but hearing his mother's first name, I saw him swallow his saliva with difficulty.

- I've always been used to showing only my human form, so it's very easy for me to stay that way. But yes, the most comfortable appearance is this, he told me in a deep and low voice, almost ashamed.

I gently pulled my hand away and watched his scales move slightly, as if a shiver ran through him just where my fingers left him.

- They are beautiful, I said, looking up to his.

I saw him swallow again and thought for a moment that he was going to make a move in my direction, but he finally restrained himself and just said :

- I avoid showing myself like that, in general. Normal people don't really feel confident when they learn they are in the presence of a dragon, he argued, his jaws clenched. Moreover for most, this form can seem repulsive.

I was shocked to hear those words. Faeries must be used to seeing creatures of all kinds, so why should the appearance turn them off ?

- I find it anything but repulsive, I felt compelled to tell him. And yet, I have lived much longer on Earth than here.

His features relaxed under my words.

- Dragons are believed to be a long extinct race, and their stories are largely unknown to the people of the lands of Eel. It is therefore not surprising to see them react in a virulent way to something that they thought was gone.

- Maybe, but it's still silly, I said, quite annoyed. Dragons are certainly very large, but certainly not repulsive.

Lance looked at me for a long time before laughing. His gaze suddenly softened.

- I hope I can count on your bravery to kick their buttocks for me, in this case.

I returned his smile sincerely, rocked by this revelation that saddened me for injustice. Because in a way I could understand what he was feeling. How would people react if they saw me walking around with aengel wings on my back ? They would probably be scared too, even if my form was softer than his.

I realized that humans and faeries looked more alike than I thought, the same fear of the unknown marking them indelibly.

- Well, what did you want to try, suddenly ?

His gaze suddenly became serious again, but the weak smile never left him.

- Do you know if you trust me, or still not ?

I hadn't really expected this question. But if I was here now, it had to be a bit like that, right ?

- Let's say I trust you a little more than before, I tell him cautiously.

He nodded in approval.

- I've been doing quite a bit of research on the powers of aengels and dragons since the other night, and there is something I would like to try. But for that, you have to trust me a minimum.

- All right, tell me what to do.

(Chapter 10)

#eldarya fanfic #eldarya new era #eldarya #eldarya lance #eldarya writing #fanfiction #ashkore #lance #i am not your enemy

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madllamamomma · 3 years

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The Visitor~ Part 6

Muriel x Rhemi (OC) fanfic

[WARNING: Some topics can be triggering to some readers including, mention of violence, blood/gore, mental health issues, abuse, etc.]

Part 6~

Ghosts~

In the palace, Sir Martin sits quietly in the green chair next to the fire. His daughter should be here any moment. The cracking of the burning wood alway relaxed him, eventually making his eyes heavy… Soon he drifts to sleep.

As he opens his eyes, he finds himself sitting on an old rickety chair that looks like it's about to break at any moment. With an annoyed scoff, his eyes look around, he is in a terribly drabby house, full of holes in the straw roof where the sunlight shines through and mice hide in the walls. He always hated this place--Despised is more like it. He absolutely hated when his dreams would drift him back here to this often empty house. But then, she walks into the room, her hands full with the heavy laundry basket… His hatred drifted away.

She was a beautiful young woman, no older than eighteen, her hair s burgundy brown and curly, pulled back into a handkerchief and her gorgeous teal blue eyes and wearing commoner’s clothes with a dingy apron around her waist. Just like always, she acted like it was just another ordinary day and as cheery as ever.

“Well! Good morning, my little rabbit.” She says with a smile as she sits and folds the laundry.

“..... Morning.” Martin gently replies, unable to keep his eyes off of her.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He swallows hard and shakes his head. He knows this is just a dream. “Why… Why does this keep happening?”

For a moment she stops folding, and looks up at him with such gleaming and loving eyes, tilting her head and looking at Martin with such concern.

“Why here?.... Why this moment?” He frustratedly mutters. “And not any other moment. Just…. This. One?”

The young woman sighs and lightly shrugs, shaking her head. “... You tell me, little rabbit.”

Martin tries to stand up from his chair, but like always, he is stuck in one place. Angry, he tries and tries but something is keeping him here in this one spot.

“You know that doesn’t help any.” She says sadly. “It never has…”

A deep sigh expels from his lungs again as he finally accepts his situation and his eyes peer back to the young woman, pain in his cold teal eyes. “..... Why didn’t you just stay home that day?” He asks with gritted teeth and folded hands. “I... I told you not to go.”

Tears start to well in her eyes as she looks at him silently, slowly standing to her feet. The house just evaporates, replaying it with a foggy gray atmosphere. “Why didn’t you come with me?” She whispers as her feet lift off the ground.

An eerie high pitch ringing overwhelming his ears as she keeps staring at him as she stops levitating about three feet from the ground. A terrifying crack emanates from her neck as it snaps quickly to the right.

Martin shutters stifling his tears, shutting his eyes tightly and turning his head away from the horror. But suddenly feels himself waking up from the warm licks from Beatrix’s tongue.

------

Fluttering his eyes open, he finds Beatrix in his lap, looking at him slightly concerned. “Little Piegon’s here, Master.” Her scratchy voice mutters in his head.

Martin rubs his tired eyes, and smoothing back his plum and gray hair. “Thank you, Bea.”

Waiting patiently, Martin stares into the fire, in deep thought, wondering why his dreams keep taking him to that dreadful day. If it wasn’t that dream, it was always about Florence and Rhemielia. The night that she and their child were whisked away. All the while he was trapped underneath a pile of fiery debris, and his skin burning his right arm.

---------- Later that day-----

As Rhemi steadily makes her way back to the shop, taking three times as long. Her lack of oxygen is taking its toll on her. “This….. fucking thing!….” She huffs to herself, gasping for air in between her thoughts as she takes a seat on a nearby barrel. “...*huff* Fuck….*huff*.... This…*huff*...*huff*..... Corset!”

After getting adequate rest, she stands to her feet and clasps the small part of her waist feeling the corset digging into the tops of her hip bones.

“... Fuck this dress. Fuck that Oliver guy. Fuck this day...” She grumbles to herself under her breath, attempting to ignore all the wide eyed stares from the citizens she passes, hoping that no one would recognize her. “Fuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthis….” She grumbles to herself, face beat red. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

Finally, the shop was within her sight as the sun was setting over the city. It took so long to get here! Rhemi thinks to herself, realizing that the lamplighters are hard at work lighting the dark streets. She left the palace around three o’clock, it's probably almost five or so now. If anything came out of this, it’s respect for the poor aristocrats in Charlès who actually wore this stuff on the regular bases! Why would anyone want to wear this stuff everyday? Did Mum really wear this crap? This is awful!

Opening the door to the shop never felt so good. God, I can’t wait to get inside! I am so happy to be home. She rejoiced in her head. Finally home! Three different voices muffled on the other side of the door. Rhemi knew right away who they all belonged to. Then, a horrible thought comes to mind as she turns the key in the lock after taking down the protection spell. ….Oh no….. Oh god!.... What the hell are they gonna say about this abomination??

Then again…. she was so tired at this point, she didn’t really care. The pain of the corset outweighed the pain of her friend's judgement. With as much air as she could fill in her restricted lungs, she bravely opens the door, all three pairs of eyes immediately falling on her.

Asra excitedly starts to greet his friend with a brilliant smile. “Hey! There she is! Welcome…” But then stops as he sees her, his eyes wide, his smile crumples into a shocked snicker.

The lively chattering that filled the room suddenly ceases, the only thing that can be heard is the creaking of the rusty hinges of the shop door as it shuts behind her.

Awkwardly, Rhemi just stands in the doorway as Asra, Faust, Muriel, and Julian just stare at her. None of them could help but stifle their laughs at the overly fluffy dress that she’s wearing.

Julian opens and closes his mouth attempting to formulate a sentence.“That's… errr….. It’s… Ummm-aahhhhh..” He stammers as he rubs his face, searching for a compliment. But of course, Asra stands next to him, covering his smile with his clasped hands and eyes wide, his thoughts very apparent.

Looking silently between them all, realizing that they were trying to be as kind about it as possible. “.... It’s fucking atrocious, isn’t it?” Rhemi finally verbally admits with a half straight face.

“It’s a goddamn travesty is what it is.” Asra spits out as soon as she completes her sentence. All four of them stand there silently all waiting how’d be the first to crack.

Suddenly, all of them sputter into hard laughter at the same time, breaking the terrible silence.

“My god!.... What the hell is this thing anyways??” Julian adds overdramatically gesturing to the hips. “Rhemi-dear, are you wearing ….crinoline??”

“... Crino-What??” Muriel mumbles as he squints his eyes.

“It’s a type of tortuous device placed under dresses that a deranged idiot designed to make your hips look inhumanly large.” She replies nonchalantly as attempts to reach back for the buttons, trying to contort herself to do so. But, try as she might, the poor apprentice couldn’t reach without completely tearing the sleeves. However, as stubborn as she is, she continues to try to reach in hope to get out of this over-tightened corset. All at the same time, Muriel, Asra, and Julian try to figure out the reason why she’s wearing the damn overly extravagant monstrosity.

“....There are… So… many bows….” Muriel mutters as tugs at one to study it, seemingly not liking the texture and his face hilariously cringing hard.

“Oh… I know!….. It’s bad, huh, Muri?”

“Reallllllly bad.”

“Did you lose a bet, Rem?” Asra teases, still laughing his ass off.

“Nooooooo,” A whine emanates from her mouth and her bottom lip pops out. Despite her cute pout, the corner of the lips still twist up into a grin making her slightly look like a duck. Slightly frustrated, but also entertained by her stupid situation, she sighs deeply and slouches as much as she could (given her restrictive outfit).

About having enough of trying, she huffs feeling rather defeated, but still smiles at her friends. “If you three are gonna keep dishing out colorful insults, you might as well help me out of it... I can’t freakin’ breathe!”

“... Yo-... You can’t get out by yourself, Rem??” Muriel snorts, forcefully hiding a very amused smile, trying to politely withhold a bellowing laugh at her situation. “Sorry… It’s not funny.” He mumbles as he presses his lips together even tighter.

“Do you really think I would have come home with this... thing if I could take it off myself?? It took… like…. Five people to get me in this abomination!”

“Are you.... Errr…. Decent underneath all of it?” Julian warily asks, his eye quickly glancing towards Muriel while he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t worry Ilya, you’ve seen more at the beach. I have a shift or… or slip…? -Whatever it’s called under the corset.” Say says lifting up the dreaded skirt showing the many layers of cloth on her body. “Pft! This bitch has so many layers, it puts our wedding cake to shame.”

“Oh god.” Muriel chuckles, his laughter making his broad shoulder shake, not doing a very good job to keep it in.

“Ohhh! Shut your face!” Rhemi playfully smacks her finacè’s stomach. “Now, please! Get me out of this damn thing! I feel like my boobs are suffocating me! Do you guys want me to die from titty asphyxiation?!”

“I’d argue that it wouldn't be a bad demise!” The doctor chuckles with his dubious smile of his.

“Shuddup Ilya!” Rhemi playfully elbows her friend, slightly knocking the wind out of him.

But he continues to laugh and laugh,as he holds his stomach nearly hyperventilating. “..We-.... We’ll write on your tombstone, ...‘Here lies Rhemi… Escaped death once from the plague to die from a common corset.’..”

Asra chortles, nearly crying now as Faust happily hisses, “Rhemi a tent!”

Out of the sea of laughter, Rhemi finds herself feeling more light headed, unable to contain her giggles either. “Hey! Less talkie, more unbutton-ie! I am literally dying over here! I am not joking when I said that I nearly passed out a few times over here. I left around three!”

The mountain man’s face suddenly becomes more serious as she says that, his laughter completely silenced “Wait…. Really?? Are… you ok?”

“I mean… I made it here, didn’t I?” She says with a shrug and a half grin.

A warm grumble rumbles from his lips as he mutters, “That’s not…”

“—Alright, alright, alright! Turn around, ya big baby.” Asra teases her, finally feeling pity for her. “Let’s get you out of this thing… Then we’ll have a bonfire. Haha!”

It took some time, but after some troubleshooting and a bit of magic, the three managed to peel the dress, the extra layers, and the crinoline off, leaving only her tight overbust, and a shift underneath. With surgical hands, Julian and Asra loosened the loops.

Finally, the corset was loosened, Rhemi took in a large breath of fresh air as if she had just made love. “Ahhhhhhhh~ Sooooo much better.”

“Better wait a few minutes before loosening it again.” Julian adds with a serious doctor face. “Don’t want you actually passing out.”

“Tha-that's a thing that can happen??” A very wary Muriels asks.

“Why, yes! If you let it out too quickly, you can pass out… Your blood pressure can drop and leave a person unconscious. Happened a few times to the actors at the theater.”

“That's….. Worrisome.” Muriel says as his eyes fall on his fiancée again, and pointing to the corset. “You never told me these things were hazardous.”

Unable to contain herself, Rhemi takes her lover’s large hand and holds it with both of hers with an empathetic expression. He’s so cute. “Aww! I never wear them this tight, honey! I like the way my corsets look and feel on my body. But this one is garbage!”

“Actually it’s not that bad.” Julian says peeling away the cloth and exposing the boning structure underneath. “.....It’s made out of whale bone! It’s expensive and very strong. It’s just not your size.”

“Oh! Speaking of expensive, that reminds me.” Julian takes out Rhemi’s coin purse and hands it back to her, only a few coins used. “I believe this belongs to you.”

It takes a few moments before she realizes that the doctor never used her money last night, she instantly pouts. “Ilya!! You’re drinks were supposed to be on me you dork!”

“Rhemi-dear, what happened at tea the other day was not your fault!”

You mean ‘what my father said’. She thinks to herself. “But— My father— it wasn’t right what he—”

“—You can’t control what that basta—.. dahhhhhhh errrrrr... I mean…. What he says.”

“... Nice save.” Asra whispers to his lover.

“I never got the chance to tell you how sorry I am. I… I kinda regret inviting him. Tea was just so awkward. It should have been just us, like Nadia planned it.”

Julian wraps his long arms around Rhemi’s shoulders for a friendly hug. “Please don’t apologize. I’ve honestly heard worse.”

“I’m still sorry it happened.”

“Hey, don't worry about it. It’s not worth it.” He then moves his arm and takes a seat in the velvet couch never to Asra, causing them to lazily lean on his shoulder. Slowly, Faust slithers over to Julian and he tries his best not to get chills. “So…. Ahhhh… Ya gonna tell us why you are wearing this….. Errr…. getup?”

“... My father apparently brought his own tailor on board with him… Names Oliver… real piece of freakin’ work!... My father wanted him to give the dress as a present to me. It’s apparently the latest fashion from Charlès… All the noble women wear something like it.”

“..... Sooooo… I assume that he didn’t take it too well that you two aren’t moving to Charlès.” Asra asks, handing her own clothes to her so she could get comfortable.

“Wait, he wanted you both to move??” Julian cluelessly interjects with his left eye wide.

An intense pressure suddenly overtakes Rhemi’s stomach as if gravity doubled on her intestines. How the hell is she supposed to explain what happened today? Not only did her father still want her to leave Vesuvia, but he wants her alone to move and marry someone of nobility in Charlès!

“....Actually, he was very understanding.” She flat out lies before she could stop herself.

Rhemi, what are you doing?? She screams internally. Why are you lying again?!

“... He was of course disappointed, but he was very respectful about it!” She continues as if her mouth had a mind of its own, her body posture scarily calm and believable. “... But it’s best not to mention it to him… He’s still very disappointed. Might spark a nerve with him. Ya know?”

Asra and Julian exchange a surprised look as they hear this. Julian rubs the back of his hand and sighs, “He doesn’t seem to be the understanding type--”

“—Well, he might surprise you.” Rhemi defensively interrupts. “He might be very posh and rigid on the outside…. But I know, deep down he just cares about me.”

Muriel stares down at her with his knowing emerald eyes completely unconvinced as she walks past him to head upstairs to get changed. She dared not look at him for too long. He had a way of making her break. But how could she explain this to him? To…. well, anyone?? Her father didn’t even acknowledge that she was getting married.

No. She just…. Has to fix this before anyone knows. She had to.

———————

After Rhemi got dressed, the four of them all had a nice dinner that Muriel and Asra whipped up. It was chicken souvlaki wrapped in a pita and other greens.

After that, the two couples went their separate ways for the night. Asra and Julian stayed at the shop, while Rhemi and Muriel went back home to the hut.

She feared that he might bring up what she said before dinner, about her father accepting thor decision not to leave. He always knows when she’s bullshitting. That's the problem when you get to know someone so well. It's a sixth sense, knowing something is wrong.

But to her surprise, he stayed quiet. She reads a book on the bed as he whittles next to Inanna by the fire. Eventually, her eye starts to become heavy and she shuts her books and gets into her nightgown. Muriel follows her lead. Soon, all three get comfortable in the bed, taking their normal positions. Rhemi on the left side of the bed, Muriel at the right, and Inanna at the foot. The apprentice always laid on his bare chest snuggling up and getting warm.

“I love you, Muriel.” She whispers.

Muriel yawns, “... I love you too, Rhemi…” Thinking he's drifting off to sleep, she starts to close her eyes as well and feel herself falling asleep. “.... Was he really okay with us not moving?” He finally whispers.

Rhemi's heart drops, but she just stays there silent and still, pretending to be asleep.

The hermit lets out a frustrated sigh, before placing a feather light kiss on her forehead. “.... Please just don’t forget I want you to talk to me.”

….. I know…. She thinks to herself. I want to tell you. But… I’m scared that might make things worse. I’m sorry, Muri. I don’t want to lie to you… But I have to fix this by myself before you know the truth.

Finally, all of them start to drift to sleep, Muriel finds himself in the realm of dreams, his father waiting for him yet again, waiting to show him what he was capable of in the realm of dreams.

All the while Rhemi stays put, in a dreamless state, but finds herself waking up almost every hour from a twinging pain in her temples. She could swear she was hearing distant voices.

———The next morning———

A very groggy Rhemi finally wakes up from the sun peering into the window. Sitting up, in the bed, she realized that Muriel and Inanna were already up and started the day. Glancing over to the table, some fresh flowers and herbs were waiting for her and a note that read, "Get some rest." She couldn’t help but smile despite feeling so terrible. The headaches are getting worse and worse lately. Even when she wakes up, it's like a hammer is knocking on the side of her temples. Luckily, it would dissipate as the day went on, but it was such a nuisance to start off the day like this. At least she didn’t have any dreams last night…

Slowly, she gets up and walks over to the washing washing bowl, trying to get more energized for the day. This was one of her installations when she moved into the hut. It was a little table (taller than most for her sweet Muriel) with a washing bowl, a pitcher and a mirror from the shop. It must have been her mother’s. It was the one thing that didn’t necessarily match the other decor from the shop. Pouring a liberal amount of freshwater, she starts washing her face. The cool water felt nice on her temples. As she glances back up to the mirror to make herself look more alive, she notices someone behind her.

Summoning her magic quickly into her hands, she conjures a defensive spell as she whips around silently. But as soon as she turns around, no one is there. The door is locked, and she can still hear Muriel cutting wood. “.... Must have been my imagination.”

Turning back to the mirror yet again to look at her reflection. But instead of her own face, she sees her eyes bloodshot red and short hair, her expression bleak and sad.

“.... Headache again?” A voice mumbles to her sadistically from the reflection.

“AHHHHH!!!” Shocked, Rhemi yelps a terrified scream, punching the mirror out of instinct. The vision and the pieces of glass shatter into pieces. Immediately, she regretted her reaction. She tucks her hand into her chest in pain, her knuckles bloody, and the mirror is broken. Looking at the shards on the ground, all she can see is her own reflection in the small fragments. What… what the fuck was that?

“RHEMI?!” Muriel cries out from behind the hut.

“.... Shit….” Quickly Rhemi jumps up and carefully takes the mirror off the wall and places it on the floor to make it look like it just fell down. The last thing she wanted was to think that she was losing her mind. Besides, people see things all the time, it doesn’t mean you're crazy… right??

“RHEMI !” Muriel shouts as he bursts in the hut, his large ax still in hand. As soon as he sees the blood, his eyes get even wider and swirling with fear. “Y-... You’re bleeding!”

“Ahhh!” She shouts, waving her hand to keep him away. “Don’t let Nana in here! T-There's glass everywhere!”

Examining the damage, Muriel shakes his head bewildered. “Rem... What happened?”

“... Ohhmygosh!! HaHa! So dumb!... Completely my fault! I was trying to straighten the stupid mirror and I apparently…. It fell off the nail! I… I didn’t catch it in time and it broke, and I screamed.”

He starts to slightly relax, but still looks pretty anxious. “.... You okay?”

“Yeah! I just cut myself a little on the glass is all! Just a little scratch, nothing I can’t fix~!”

Taking a single step inside he sets the ax down outside and reaches his hand for her. “.... Let me at least help—”

“It’s fine, Love!” She says as she conjures her magic to clean the pieces up and place them back into the mirror. “See? No problem!”

Begrudgingly he huffs, and starts to step out of the doorway before pausing. “.... Get dressed. I’ll make breakfast. You just …. sit…. alright?.... Don’t go near anything breakable…. Or sharp.” He grumpily instructs.

She snickers and nods her head. “Okay.”

As soon as the door shuts, her smile falls and she stares at her knuckle so she could heal it. Luckily, it wasn’t very deep, however it was a little long. She sits down at the table, taking a little piece of herb and summoning her magic, she starts mending her skin together. After it was all healed up a very small scar was left. It should dissipate after a while. But she just stares at it for a moment.

“Get it together, Rhemi.” She mumbles to herself as she stands to her feet to get dressed.

There's too much going on today for this bullshit. She had a plan for her father to get on board with her getting married.

--------

After a delicious breakfast, and a few sweet kisses, Muriel and Rhemi part for the day. Making her way to the shop, she concocks the perfect plan.

As expected, the shop was open and ready for business, usually Asra at the counter with a book or a potion, but today the white haired gender bastard was nowhere in sight, and the shop appeared empty.

“Hello??” She calls out. “Asra?? Faust?? You home?”

“Oh! Morning, Rhemi.” He greets from the back next to the stairs.

Realizing his location she strolls to where he was sitting on the ground and she takes off her bag. “.... Good morning. What the heck are you doing back there, ya weirdo?”

“Refusing to accept defeat.” He chuckles, wiping a little bit of sweat on his forehead. In front of him was a large chest oozing with magic and locked up tight. It read, ‘Fragile: Please handle with care’ in a familiar handwriting. In his right hand was the bundle of rusty old keys.

Curious, Rhemi tilts her head and folds her arms. “What is this?”

“Found this…” He grunts as he attempts to force another key into the lock. “... Chest… under the stairs the other day…. And…. I think it belonged to Athena…. *grunt* but no matter what I doooo…” With a heavy sigh, he gives up on that key, pulls it out of the lock and nearly collapses on his elbows. “... The damn thing won’t open. I have tried opening it with magic, I have tried every key in the shop--twice now--Hell! I even tried using a crowbar! But... nothing.”

“Huh….” She mutters. Rhemi kneels down next to her friend and the chest. Both of them stared at it for a moment. “... Well… Obviously it’s got a powerful spell on it. Athena didn’t want anyone in it.”

“Yeah… Even in death, that woman had out magic us.” The two of them giggle together on the floor. Asra draps his arms over his knees and he smiles, his mind wondering into nostalgically territory. “... I miss her.” He mumbles under his breath.

“.... I do too.” The apprentice says with a heavy heart, resting her head on his shoulder. “I…. I wish she could be here… See how much we both grew up…”

"Me too..."

The two stay there for a moment, taking it all in. The sound of the bedroom door closing at the top of the stairs brings them back to reality and Julian’s long legs descend the stairs.

“Oh! Morning, Rhemi-dear!” He says with a chipper tone.

She rolls her eyes at that name, but at this point, she just learned to accept it. “Well good morning to you too…. Someone slept in late…It’s nearly ten o’clock.” She teases.

“HA. Well…. Something kept me up all night..” The doctor glances at Asra with pink staining his cheeks and a cute smirk.

Asra smiles wide, proudly he glances back over to his friend, cheekily placing his finger to his chest. “Tee-hee…. I’m ‘something’.”

Jokingly disgusted, she pushes Asra making him nearly fall over. “EWWW! Grosssssss! You two are terrible!” She laughs.

“Oh… like you and Muriel aren’t disgusting too??”

“I am not responding to that!” She loudly announces as she walks up the stairs, her face turning slightly pink herself. “I’m making some tea, don’t leave just yet Ilya!”

“Ohhhh, well ahhh.. alrighty then! If I… ahh….. If I must.” Julian happily replies as he helps Asra back to his feet. Promptly the white-haired magician presses his lips on his collar bone.

While the teapot starts to heat up, Rhemi realizes that she really didn’t have time to go to the palace or have someone deliver a message for her father. Staring at the spigot and it gives her an idea and is a good reason to flex her magical muscles. Grabbing a large bowl, she fills it with water and closes her eyes. Using all her concentration, she reaches out, searching for her father’s magic. Finally, she feels that strange metallic aura and she opens she can see her reflection being replaced with her father’s.

“Père!” She calls out.

Confused, Martin looks away towards what she could only assume was the door. “..... Miela?” He mutters.

“Good morning, Père~” She sweetly giggles. Something about surprising another magician always made her a little giddy.

Her father turns his head once again, his eyes scanning the room. “I… I hear you Pigeon, but…. Where are you??”

“Down here!” She instructs. “In the water!”

Turning desperately left and right, he shakes his head. “The… water?” Finally he locates her and he stares in astonishment. “Ahhhhh…?”

Beatrix’s hissing and Bartholomew’s voice could be heard in the background. “.... Monsieur, vous allez bien?”

“Oh… yes. Um…. Why don’t you be a good lad and step outside, Bartholmew.”

“....Ahhh…. Oui, Monsieur.” His butler replies soundly utterly confused. "I will leave you alone with your...ah.... tea... then."

Calmly, Martin looks into his tea cup. “... Rhemielia, my child. What are you doing in my tea?”

“Kinda neat isn’t it? Asra taught me this one a while back.”

With a straight face, he slowly blinks, seemingly unimpressed. “.... Hmmmm…. Very… Charming, I suppose… I won’t recommend it in Charlès though. This is how you’d get a bad reputation for being a witch.”

“Oh….” The excitement and glee once again stomped out. But… I kinda am a witch. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, brushing off his words. “Well, ah….anyways, I contacted you this way to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“I have to do something today next to the palace. Are you busy this afternoon around three o’clock?”

“Hmm… No… I don’t believe I am.” He says while pondering hard and tapping the tea cup.

“Well, how about you meet me there. I think you’d really enjoy it.”

A genuine soft smile takes over the Archimagister’s lips and he takes a seat on a chair. “... I always enjoy being with you, my little pigeon.”

Rhemi grins happily when he says that. He had a habit of making her feel bad sometimes, but he also could make her feel glad that he’s in her life again. Her heart flutters with excitement. She quickly gives him the address, before she could make a little small talk, the tea kettle starts to whistle and the two say their goodbyes for now.

The day went on like it did every Monday. The shop was pretty busy in the late morning and the afternoon. Mostly it was regulars getting their positions, and other things they needed before the rest of the week went on. But for Rhemi the day just dragged on. Today was the last fitting of her wedding dress. Surely, he wouldn’t be so set on her going to Charlès if he saw her in it. The dress was beautiful a-line with a button-up bodice in the back, with illusion sleeves covered in beautiful lace and organza material.

After what felt like an eternity, the time came for her fitting. Before she leaves, she pops her head into the reading room where Asra was looking at his cards by himself. It’s odd, it felt like she could hear the King of Pentacles whispering to him.

As she went for the door, she ran her fingers over the chest feeling Athena’s magic somehow felt so comforting to her. She always had a strong aura. A strange clunk comes from behind her. She glances back to inspect what had made the noise, but the chiming of the clock deters her. Whatever it is, it can wait.

_______________________________

As she reaches the tailor’s shop, she notices her father making his way down the street. His nose was buried into the piece of paper with the address on. Again, no Beatrix. It’s old how empty his shoulders looked without her.

“Père!” Rhemi calls out, waving to him.

Ungluing his eyes from his paper as she calls his name, he grins and waves back.

“How are you today?” His daughter asks sweetly.

“Very good thank you.” He replies looking at his pocket watch. As soon as he picks up his head, he reads the sign, Seamless: Pierre’s Clothing. “Oh…. You do realize I have a tailor already, correct?”

She can't help but chuckle at his unamusement as she opens the door. “I know that. This one is mine... Well, actually it's Nadia's, I'm just borrowing him.”

Martin’s eyes narrow as he enters the shop. The windows are full of outlandish and extravagant dresses and suits, but in the Vesuvian style. The old magician just sneers in revolt. “Ohhh?... Pardon me, my sweet, but I am confused...”

“I’m about to try my wedding dress on.” Martin’s body stiffens like a board and he flutters his eyes in disbelief. Rhemi could feel her cheeks heating up and feeling pressure on her chest. “And….. I uh… I wanted you to be here for my final fitting… Get you more involved… I want you to be apart of my life and--”

“—Sorry." He interrupts placing both of his hands on his cane, sticking his nose up in revolt. "Please don't tell me you were serious when you said you are going to marry that seven foot tall brute—?”

“—Muriel, Père…” Rhemi quickly interjects in disbelief. She could feel her left eyelid twitch from the stress. She just couldn’t believe him. This shit again?? Right here?? RIGHT NOW? Calmly, she folds her hands together trying to keep her patients. “.... My fiance's name is Muriel. It means 'bright' in Rune…. And yes. I am marrying him. He’s kind and genuine and trustworthy and gentle and makes me feel safe and…. And I love him.... He's my soul mate.”

Martin’s icy glare somehow gets colder and she shakes his head and scoffs. “... Hmmmm… love... What good has it ever done...”

“... What do you mean by that?... You said you fell in love with Mum.”

His nostrils flare in frustration. “.... Rhemielia. My child. All I’m trying to say is that you barely know this man. How long have you met him? A year or so ago?”

“Well…. yes… but how long did you know Mum before you married her?”

As soon as he opens his mouth wider about to argue back, Pierre walks in with a cheerful smile. “Ah! Rhemi! So good to see you!! Are you ready to see your lovely gown?”

Martin pats Rhemi’s head and she cringes to herself yet again. “We’ll speak of this later—no need to make a scene, do we now?” He says leaning into her ear and whispering. “In the meantime, go ahead. Go on and play dress up like you used to when you were a child.”

Her eyelid twitches even more as she strains to keep a fake smile on her lips. “I not playing dress—”

“Rhemi!!!!” Suddenly Agrippa and Portia burst through the door with happy smiles, excited for the final fitting. As soon as they both notice Sir Martin, their smiles dwindle slightly, but they still keep their cheery demeanor for the occasion.

For once, Rhemi was happy to change the subject, pretending that her father didn’t say what he did. “Ippa! Pasha!”

“I am sooooo excited!!!”

“Me too! Pierre is ready and— Wait… Where’s Julian?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Rem. He had an emergency at the clinic…” Portia says finally letting her smile fall.

“That kid from the orphanage….. What's his naaaammmme—?”

“Zachary?”

Agrippa snaps their fingers agreeing with their partner. “Yeah! He broke his arm today.”

“Holy crap!! Not Zack! Is he okay??”

“Oh yeah! He’s getting loads of attention and is making jokes as we speak! Those kids are resilient, he’ll be just fine!”

“As long as he stops climbing tall shit that is.”

“….Well that stinks that Julian can’t be here, but he can help that!... I’m happy you both could make it though!”

Suddenly, Sir Martin clears his throat to interrupt their conversation looking at his pocket watch and tapping it. “Excuse me ladies and….. Sir???”

Agrippa blankly stares at him with a small growing smile. “.... Which one do you think it is?”

Martin stares back trying not look so confused as he really was. But instead of answering, he just clears his throat once more, tucking his pocket watch back into his vest and looking the other way. “... Not all of us have all day to dawdle.”

Taking the hint, the four of them follow Pierre to the back and make their way to the back. Excited, Portia and Rhemi head to the back changing room. Pierre gives them the gown in order for the maid of honor to know how to help with the dress the day of the wedding (bustles and all).

It fits like a glove. Ecstatic and hopelessly excited, Rhemi nearly skips out of the back to show off her beloved dress.

Portia and Agrippa both hold back their tears as she twirls around happily. “Oh, little bean!!” Agrippa mutters sniffling hard.

Rhemi spins around, clapping her face and her eyes start to water up as well and she smiles stupidly. “Ohhhhhh, you two stop!!! You both said you wouldn’t cry!”

“I know, I know! But you are just so….. So—” Portia says, whipping a tear away.

“—Tch. Please…. don’t lie to her.” Martin grumbles his left hand pitching the bridge of his nose.

Portia and Agrippa stare at the Archmagister in utter shock. “Umm... Excuse me?” Portia asks with her brow furrowed. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, that dress is all wrong, of course.” He huffs irritatedly, uncrossing his legs and standing to his feet.

Rhemi’s heart starts to sink into her chest. “What’s…. what’s wrong with it?” She asks, looking down and lifting up some of the skirt with her hands, unable to see the defects.

“That dress makes you look like a dirty commoner, Pigeon…. It looks more like a used napkin than a gown, don't you think? And what a dreadful color.”

“But… But I…. I am a commoner. A-and… I don’t like whi-…..” The words die in her throat as her attention diverts to the back of the room.

Somehow a person who came out of nowhere is standing directly behind her father in the back—But it isn’t a customer…. Her sick crimson eyes staring at her with a desperate looking expression. Why is she here?? Am… Am I going insane? As soon as Rhemi closes her eyes again, she vanishes, but it still frightens her.

“...Wh-white..” She finally finishes muttering, still staring in the back where the figure once stood.

It was…. Herself. The ghost of her former self that keeps popping up in her dreams. The same person in her reflection the other day. Her sick bloodshot eyes, yellow tainted skin and the stench of cremated ashes. Clearly, no one else can see her, or smell the terrible scent of death.

Quickly, she’s snapped back to reality as soon as her fathers speaks again and she looks back down at her gown. “....Please…” He scoffs, pitching the bridge of his nose. “...It looks like a rag—and for gods’ sake—Why is it blush?? Virgins are supposed to wear white—“

“——Okaaaaaay! Rhemi let's get you out of your beautiful dress so the poor tailor can finish the hem, okay?” Portia quickly and skillfully interrupts, smacking her hands together with a large fake grin. She nearly pushes Rhemi to the back room to change out of it.

Portia grumbles under head breath, helping her get back into the changing room. “What the fuck is that guy’s—” Words fail her as soon as she notices her friend’s tears in her eyes and the sorrow filled look in her face. “Oh… no, Rem!” Hastily, she hands her a tissue before her makeup runs.

“It just…. So much is happening….. And…. He- ...He thinks it ….lo- looks bad….” Rhemi sniffles, trying to keep the tears from falling, her nose and lips starting to crinkle back. “Is-is it really that bad??”

Portia is quick to embrace her upset friend and hug her tightly. “No, no, no…. He’s wrong, Rem. You look gorgeous! He doesn’t know the hell he’s talking about! I mean, the guy wears an ugly ass cape for god sakes! If anything he’s a walking fashion nightmare! All he’s missing is the stupid puffy pants and a fourteen foot stick up is ass!” Slowly, she pulls away and wipes the tears from her friend's eyes comfortingly. “Please don’t cry, Rhemi. You really do look amazing. Agrippa, Pierre, Nadia, and I would have told you if it didn’t!... Please, don’t let this jerk make you think otherwise.”

“I don’t think he was trying to be a jerk… he was just telling me how he felt… I mean… I asked him what he thought after all…. and….. h-his opinion is v-valid.”

Portia flutters her eyes and shakes her head baffled. Rhemi is usually a pretty good judge of character, yet anytime anyone says anything bad about the Archmagister, she denies it, or makes excuses. “Rhemi….. Why do you keep defending this guy?! All he’s done is been rude and disregards everyone’s feelings.”

Rhemi stifles and quickly wipes her nose with a handkerchief, refusing to look Portia in the eye. “.... H-... He’s my father.”

“Yeah! One that you just mee—” Portia suddenly stops herself, pressing her lips tightly together and slightly shakes her head. Perhaps now isn’t the time. Rhemi isn’t seeing this man for what he is. Thoughtfully she starts to speak again. “...Look… all I’m saying is that no matter who this person is to you, no one should make you cry and make you feel like shit in your wedding dress.”

Rhemi fiddles with her fingers, not very convinced. “B… But what if he’s right?”

The Devorak sister takes a large breath, pushing down the urge to go back and knock the wind out of that plum haired asshole. But as calmly as she could she takes both of her friend’s hands and asks, “Rem. Sweetie. Do you love this dress?”

Sheepishly her friend replies, “... Y-... yes….”

“Does it make you feel all happy and warm inside when you put it on?”

“Uh- huh….”

“Do you feel amazing when you’re in it??”

“Y-... yeah…I do....”

“Then forget what he said! It makes you feel amazing… You cried your beautiful eyes out when you first got into it because you said you felt so amazing. You loved it! You still love it! This is your dress. Please don’t let that man take that away from you.”

Silence takes over the room as Rhemi ponders her friend’s words for a moment and she sniffles. The most concerning thing was seeing her sick past self staring at her from across the room. She’s never seen her outside of the dream realm till now… Perhaps it was her that Rhemi heard the other day in the palace and who she saw in the mirror this morning. Who else could it be??

Portia sighs and loops her arm through Rhemi’s. “Come on. Let’s get ya out so Pierre can finish up, ok?” Rhemi follows her, but doesn’t pick up her eyes, still totally lost in thoughts. In a last attempt, Portia leans her head on her shoulder. “... You really look amazing, Rem.”

Silently Rhemi nods with a fake half grin, finally picking up her gaze to meet her friend. “Thanks, Portia… I’m really glad you are here.” She says placing her head on top of her’s.

“...Haha.. You’re lucky my brother wasn’t here—”

“—Oh gods yeah! He probably would have decked him in the face.”

“Hell! You’re lucky I didn’t!”

“Thank you, Pasha.” Rhemi mutters as stops in her tracks so she could embrace her friend.

“What are maids of honor for?” Portia whispers back, kindly embracing her back.

“Please don’t tell Muri about this….”

“.... I… I promise.”

Eventually, the two get the dress off without disturbing any of the pins on the bottom. The apprentice makes sure her eyes aren’t red in the dressing room before she walks out to meet her father again. The tension in the room was so tangible, so intoxicating.

Portia and Agrippa watched from the tailor door as Rhemi and her father walked towards the palace.

The silence was absolutely dreadful on the way to the palace. Luckily, it was within a short distance and this night would be over with. Rhemi never felt so conflicted before. Everything was so overwhelming lately. All she wanted was for her father to be happy for her. But everything she did seemed to blow up in her face.

As they reach the palace, her father finally realizes that she wasn’t walking towards the shop. “Well…. This is you.” She announces, rather happy to be done with him for the day.

“Oh…” He says a bit bewildered. “.... But I thought I was walking you home.”

“No no no. The palace is right around the corner from Pierre’s. It doesn’t make any sense going all the way across town.”

“Please. I don’t mind.”

“No, Père. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay??” Turning away from him never felt better. She hated to admit it, but he was just exhausting to be around. And after today, she had just enough of it all. “Good night.” She says just turning her so he could hear her.

With a knowing sigh, he places his cane hard into the cobblestone with a clank. “...Is it what I said about the dress.. Isn’t it?” She stops in her tracks but doesn’t look behind her… Maybe he’s going to apologize? “... Rhemielia, dear. Believe me when I say that you are making a huge mistake.” Her fists clenched so hard it almost hurts, her hopes crushed once again. Nope. Of course he wasn’t going to apologize. “... I am telling you that there are better men in Charlès that would put you into the finest of wedding gow—”

“—Have a nice night, Père…” Rhemi mutters trying to hold back the tears. “I’ll... I’ll see you later.”

As Rhemi makes her way down the street and disappears into the crowd. Martin can’t help but remember that night when he lost her. All he could do was just sit there and watch as she was swept away by that dreadful witch. Just like his other dream with the young woman whose neck was snapped. He felt so powerless of movement in these moments.

As he stood there, for one of the first times in years, Martin felt a pull on his chest. A feeling like he might have done something wrong tonight. He hadn’t felt like this since… Well… Since Rhemi’s birthday nearly fifteen years ago now.

He never meant to hurt her. She just… needed to learn a lesson…

“She’ll be fine.” He mutters to himself, shaking off this feeling of regret. “... One day she’ll thank me.”

On the way home, Rhemi made sure she got rid of all her tears before she came back home with Muriel for the night. It's a good thing people usually leave you alone when you're crying. If Muriel notices, she’ll just say that they were good tears from the fitting. All happy tears. Nothing bad happened. It’s all good!… But he knows they’re not.

————Rowdy Raven————

SKKKKIIIIIRRRRT!!!!

“—THAT BASTARD SAID WHAT ABOUT HER DRESS??” Julian shouts standing up from the table in dismay.

The tavern is busy like it usually is. Agrippa, Portia, Julian, and Asra decided to have a drink after today. It was only Monday, but it felt like everyday was an eternity since Sir Martin came into port. Portia had just finished telling her brother and his partner about what had happened at the tailors, and of course they were enraged.

Asra just yanks him back down to his chair. “Shhhh!! Ilya! Would you please calm down! Believe me, I’m just as pissed as you are!”

“If I only had my cricket bat….” Agrippa says, fantasizing while staring at the wall, sipping on their ale. “Fucking asshole…” They say as Portia holds their hand with a sweet reassuring smile.

“Did he really make her cry??” Asra asks soberly.

Portia nods sadly. “It was absolutely heartbreaking. I’ve never seen her look so frustrated and hurt before! But don’t tell Muriel! I promised her I wouldn’t.”

“Why did you tell us then?”

“She only said, Muriel.” She shrugs. “...It’ll just make the poor guy more stressed out anyways. He’s under a lot of pressure as well. This is his wedding too.”

Asra's stomach tied in knots at the thought of his best friend crying. “What the hell is this guy’s problem???”

“You should have heard what he said before she tried on the dress.” Agrippa mumbles before taking a large swing of their ale again.

“What did he say??” Julian and Asra ask at the same time, leaning closer into the table.

“It was something along the lines that he ‘couldn’t believe that she was serious about marrying that ‘seven foot tall brute’... I heard them talking before we opened the door.”

Asra's nose crinkles in and his top half of his lip curls into a snarl. “And what did she say??”

“Oh! She was quick to defend him, and she almost looked angry. But at the same time…. afraid? I dunno—but it's like her father doesn’t realize that Rhemi is her own person now…. She’s not that child that was taken from him years ago.”

“.... Do you think he still sees her as a little kid?”

Portia shrugs, staring at a stain on the wooden table. “.... Maybe?... I feel like he sees her more of something that was his property… Not really another person with feelings.”

Julian slams his fists on the table, “THAT’S. IT!” making everything rattle and clank, nearly spilling a few drinks. He snaches his goblet, jumping to a stand and chugging down the last of his Salty bitters, then throws his glass down to the ground, smashing it into a hundred pieces. “—IMMA KILL ‘EM!”

“Ilya! Sit your drunk ass down and shut up!! You’re not killing anyone!” Portia scolds. “WE four, collectively…. however might just—”

“Pasha!” Asra laughs, tugging his drunken partner back down to his chair again. “That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?? How about we just talk to Rhemi about it.”

“That man is completely toxic.” Julian mumbles, taking Asra’s drink from his hands. “... *Hiccup*....Have you…. Have you noticed that Rhemi isn’t as bright as she normally is?” Julian mutters, sipping the last bit of Asra’s salty bitters since he threw down his own cup.

“.... I have…. and something about all of this bothers me.” Asra says leaning into the table with his arms folded. “....I feel like her father is killing her spirit…. I wonder if he’s always been like this….. And if that's true… it makes me wonder…” he pauses for a movement then shakes his head. “N… Nevermind.”

“What?” Agrippa, Portia, and Julian ask in unison.

“.... *Sigh*.... I might be going too far if I say this.”

“Well now you have to tell us.” Agrippa says with a straight face about to knock back the last bit of ale.

“.... I don’t know…… Sometimes I wonder if she and her mother were really….. ‘Kidnapped’.”

The table suddenly became so eerily quiet, as if they all were thinking the same thing.

✨To be continued…

Sorry for the long wait my trash pandas. But I really needed this break from writing. And I'm really glad I took it. I am so happy with myself right now. I know its still not by best work, but I at least don't hate it. This chapter was supposed a bit longer, but I decided not to shoot myself in the foot this time and just split it.

Thank you for the babies who have been support and encouraging to me when I was at a really low point. I was really sad that last chapter didn't do as well as I was hoped. But I realized that a lot of people are still reading and I need to be humble and be grateful for what I have. Anyways--chapter 7, The King of Pentacles~ should be up soonish. That may be another shorter chapter, but it gonna be a big angsty one. *wink wink*. As always, thanks for reading my hot garbage! <3

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evabellasworld · 3 years

Text

An Unforgettable Honeymoon

For @10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat , this is my gift for you as part of the @starwarsfandomfests event. Thank you to @lilhawkeye3 for organising this event. I really enjoyed it so far.——————————————————————————————

Summary: Bly and Aayla head to a tropical island planet for their honeymoon, where they create an everlasting memory as a newly-wedded couple

——————————————————————————————

AO3 Link

Arriving at a tropical, humid planet, Bly and Aayla got off from the cargo ship as they had their suitcases in their hands, standing in a station full of tourists and locals from all walks of life. Bly noticed a blue Twi'lek girl, who shared similar resemblances with his wife and was around 4 or 5 years old, held both her parent's hands as they made sure that their daughter was well-protected from danger.

This might be us in the future, Bly let his lips curl upwards as he rested his head on his right palm, and he saw three Rodian boys in their shirts and beach shorts, carrying their own surfboards. They reminded him of his closest siblings, Ares and Ahri, who hung out with him whenever they’re on a break from war. Ahri and Ares would love surfboarding at the beach.

Aayla glanced at her husband's curiosity and placed her hand on his shoulder, prompting him to shift his focus towards her. “You seemed deep in your thoughts, dear,” the blue Twi'lek teased. “First time on a vacation, commander?”

“Yes, general,” he replied, his voice laced with doubts. “This is my first time I’m going on a vacation with you.”

Aayla let out a chuckle, leaving his cheeks turned pink. “Did I do anything wrong, general?”

“Bly, you know the war is over, right?” she grinned. “Besides, we just got married two days ago, so you can just refer to me by my first name.”

Scratching the back of his head, he nodded slowly as he squirmed his lips and released an agitated laugh. “My apologies, general, I mean, Aayla. I'm still getting used to this new life as a clone. Besides, you referred to me as commander, so I thought I was fighting battle droids on the battlefield.”

“Don't worry about it, dear,” his newly wedded wife smiled, caressing his tan, tattooed cheeks. “You'll get through with this. Besides, I'm also getting the hang of this as a Jedi Master. It’s really difficult to adjust myself after three years of chaos. It’s strange that I have to get used to a peaceful life.”

“Yeah, it is strange,” he bobbed his head solemnly as he reached out his arms and took her hands, reminding him just how lucky both of them finally got to spend quality time with each other, without any interruptions from protocols and orders from a higher authority. “Should we head to our hotel now? I can’t wait to have some privacy together,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice.

“Lead the way, my love.”

Placing their suitcases on the red, carpeted floor, Aayla sighed in relief as the couple were greeted with scarlet rose petals on their bed, making them feel welcomed. Feeling a bit of exhaustion from the journey from Coruscant to Moluqu, she slid open the balcony door and gazed at the picturesque view of the beach from their room.

With the warm breeze blowing from the west and the illuminating pink sunlight, she sat on the rattan chair with a delicate, pearly cushion, her legs crossed.

Listening to the cheerful laughter of children, she was brought back down the memory lanes as a young Padawan, who used to sprint around the garden, which was filled with a cherry blossom tree, honeysuckles that were grown in shrubs, and morning glories that tangled around the black, iron gates. Whenever she tried to pluck a blue daisy from a pot, Master Vos always caught her red-handed and chased after her, but Aayla always outran him in the Temple.

I was such a mischievous child in the past, Aayla snickered to herself, looking at the horizon. But I'm grateful for the lessons he taught me, walked me down the aisle and accepted Bly.

The clone trooper glimpsed his wife, who was relaxing on the balcony. Changing into his beach attire, he put on his shades and leaned behind the sliding door, clearing his throat. “Hey, Aayla. We're heading to the beach right now. Are you coming? We haven’t got all day.”

“Of course, dear,” she answered him and got up from her seat. "I'll be right there in a minute.”

As she headed inside, she drew the curtains and changed into an ultramarine strapless bikini top with a high-waisted bikini bottom, carrying her towel by her forearm. Putting on her blueberry flip flops which she bought yesterday at a Coruscant night market, the couple linked arms with each other as they left their hotel room and strolled leisurely towards the beach, feeling the fine, warm sand underneath their bare feet as they took off their shoes.

Despite memorising the colours of the ocean, Bly felt like it was the first time he had experienced the shimmering sea in front of his eyes. He fought at a beach during the second year of the Clone Wars, but his eyes glimmered at the turquoise and deep blue palette of the ocean, where children and adults alike of all species gathered and swam. Rows of coconut trees were swaying with the balmy wind as tourists lay underneath the cooling shade, forgetting all their troubles at the present moment.

Aayla spread out their lemon-patterned beach mat underneath the palm tree, which was stubbier than the coconut trees. The only worst thing that could happen to the couple was a bunch of squirrels invading their peace, which occurred once during a scouting mission. “Well, we found a perfect spot to rest,” he jestered, squeezing her thighs. “Don't you agree, general?”

“Yes, commander,” bemused the Jedi Master, finding his touch rather ticklish. “We managed to find a good spot for us to rest and have a little privacy from the rest.”

He raised one eyebrow at her reply, before realising that he addressed her in a formal tone, just like how it was during the war. “My apologies, Aayla. I swear to the Maker that it was a slip of my tongue.”

“To be honest with you, I still don't mind you calling me general,” she quipped, leaning against the bark of the tree. “After all, I was the one who proposed to you in the first place.”

His smile grew wider as Aayla brought him back to that particular day, one he would never forget. “I still remember that day,” Bly reminisced as he moved his eyes upwards, before gazing at her hazel eyes. “It's as if you got down on your knees yesterday and asked me to be your husband.”

“And you were hesitating to say yes,” she recalled. “It's like you weren't expecting that day to actually come to you.”

“I was overjoyed, but I didn't really know what to say. It's funny that I dreamed of settling down with you when we were secretly together, but yet, my mind went blank when it actually came true.”

Chortling, Aayla slapped her knees and covered her mouth, leaving his cheeks turned red as a beet. “That is completely valid,” she assured him. “Honestly, your feelings that day were valid. It is normal to be nervous about moving on to the next step in life. Believe me, I've been there before and it wasn't easy for me to adapt.”

His eyes widened. “You were jittery before? But you seem so confident and calm all the time.”

“Yeah, it's surprising to see me anxious, but it's normal, you know. Everyone goes through that when they have to step out of their comfort zone. I felt the same way as you did when I decided to marry you.”

“So, how did you cope with your overwhelming doubts?” he asked, leaning closer to her. “Like, what is your secret?”

Aayla took a deep breath as she felt his warmth and gazed at his burnt cocoa eyes, ready to pull him into the other side of her mind. “When I'm in doubt, when my inner voice tells me that it is impossible to do something, when I feel like I'm never going to make it through my obstacles in front of me, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I clear my mind, I remind myself of all the blessings that I have with me and my own strength. That's how I cope with my doubts.”

What an amazing woman, Bly praised, when he heard her smooth voice in his ears. I envy her for sharing her vulnerable side with me. She is as courageous as a lioness on a golden throne. “So what are your blessings in life so far?” he wondered, gazing at the cloudless, azure sky.

Aayla tilted her head upwards as she hummed softly, before shifting her eyes towards him. “Besides surviving the war and getting a chance to see the beauty of life, I am blessed that you have become part of my life. I will never regret meeting you on Kamino, I am glad to see you develop into a better version of yourself, and I am proud to call you my loving, sweet, husband. So thank you, Bly, for choosing to stay with me.”

For a moment, he was speechless. In his mind, he desperately searched for a word that would go well with hers, but for some reason, it was empty. He felt frantic and blamed himself for always keeping quiet in the tender moments with his wife, but then, he remembered every single word she told her, about how she overcame her doubts. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I clear my mind, I remind myself of all the blessings that I have with me and my own strength.

And when he did so, the words that he wanted to spill to her finally popped up in his mind. “Aayla,” he finally spoke, after a few minutes of silence between them. “When I first met you, I only saw you as my superior. Nothing more, nothing less. But then, you sparked a couple of conversations between us, and wow, I actually felt something for you. I mean, I didn't think much about it, though, but as time went by, as battles got brutal and as we spent more time hopping from one planet to another, I realized that I loved you so much. I accepted your flaws, I commend your strength, I acknowledged your quirks, and yeah, I adored your beauty but you know what I loved most about you?”

“What is it, Bly?”

“I cherished your heart. Your valiant, compassionate, heart. That's what attracted me to you in the first place. And you know what? I never regret choosing to love you as my partner, as my confidant, and as my plucky, unfaltering wife.”

As they let their lips brush together, Aayla stood up and dragged Bly for a swim in the shallow part of the ocean, underneath the rosy sunlight. Like their love, the waves flowed with the rhythm as they lived and laughed together, creating everlasting memories on their first day of their honeymoon.

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carllisle · 3 years

Note

imagine carlisle c.1920s (post-changing esme but neither of them are admitting their ✨feelings✨) overhearing his coworkers talking about how its weird he doesn't have a wife bc what is WITH that youngish handsome successful man being an eternal bachelor so then he panics and overcompensates like 'hello gentlemen lovely day isn't it you know who else likes lovely days? my WIFE that i definitely have at home who im married to' and then has to go home mortified and be like 'esme? can u do me a favour' and then BAM let the fake dating AU commence

this has been in my inbox for like. 2 weeks. and it lives in my mind rent-free. and i wanted to write a mini fic of this but make it ✨ angsty ✨ . thank U anon for my life!!!

Esme looked up from the camera she had disassembled on the dining room table as she heard Carlisle’s car turn onto their mile-long drive. It was a complicated machine, the camera, and she was in the process of teaching herself how to take it apart and clean, and put it back together. Carlisle had bought it for her for no reason in particular and initially she had felt very guilty about the gift, but he had insisted that it brought him joy to be able to spend his money on her. He had too much of it, he said, to not spend it on something that made her happy. Shyly, she had accepted the gift.

He was driving more quickly than usual. “Is he alright?” Esme asked aloud. Edward was practicing a complicated piece ni the next room and he would have heard her.

“I’m not sure,” he answered quietly. “I think... something might be wrong.” But then he stopped playing and he laughed.

“What is it?” she asked in surprise.

“Oh, he'll tell you himself as soon as he gets in,” Edward chuckled, and he began playing again.

Esme’s frowned and she stood up to greet Carlisle at the door. When he parked and came through the front door, she took his coat and hat from him as she always did. “Welcome home,” she said as she did every day, smiling warmly at him.

“Hello Esme,” he replied, glancing at her and then looking away. He looked very nervous. “How was your day?”

“Very nice, thank you. I’m cleaning the camera and it’s taking quite a long time. I’m enjoying myself, though!”

“Good. That’s good.” He looked around as if searching for something, and then he stuck his head into the room where Edward was. “Hello. How was your day?”

“Better than yours,” Edward answered, and Esme could hear the grin in his voice. “Why did you say that? Why on Earth did you say that?”

“It just happened!”

“What happened?” Esme asked. She was surprised at the indignant tone Carlisle took with Edward. Carlisle glanced back at her and sighed.

“Esme, I’m deeply sorry. I must ask a great favour of you.”

“Anything,” she replied automatically.

Edward appeared in the doorway, grinning. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“You don’t have to leave, surely!” Esme said in surprise. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry,” he assured her.

“Stay, please,” Carlisle said.

Edward laughed again. “Oh, no, I’m headed out. You don’t need an audience for this.”

Carlisle pursed his lips in disapproval but Edward’s mind was made up. He kissed Esme’s forehead before leaving. She watched him go in bewilderment. “Carlisle, what-?”

“I-” He looked down at his feet. “I truly apologise for what I am about to ask of you. I spoke without thinking and have put us both in a difficult position.”

There was a long pause before she spoke again. “Let’s... let’s go sit down, perhaps?”

He nodded and she led the way into the lounge where Edward had been playing his piano. She took her place in the window seat as usual, and Carlisle sat in the leather chair closeby. He crossed his legs and sat unusually still. Out of the three of them, he was best at playing human, and so it unnerved Esme now that the mask had slipped ever so slightly. She clasped her hands together tightly in her lap. “Please,” she said quietly. “Tell me.”

“I... I don’t know where to begin.”

“Anywhere. The middle. The end. I don’t mind.”

Carlisle took in a deep breath. “I have been invited to dinner by the chief of staff next week. It’s expected that I go.”

Esme was confused. “That... sounds promising.”

He couldn’t hold her gaze. “And it is expected that I will be accompanied by you.”

“By me?” As far as she was aware, no one knew she existed. Although they were relatively new to the city, she was still young and not ready to join human society again, and they had decided that Edward and Carlisle would present themselves as brothers, and Esme simply would not exist. No humans would need to come to the house, and she would not appear in public. It was perfect, for now. “Why?”

“I... my colleagues are under the impression that I have a wife.”

Her eyes went wide. “Why?”

“Because I told them that I was married.”

Esme felt herself turn to stone. She did not know if she was angry or upset or both, but whatever it was, was overwhelming. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I overheard two colleagues talking about how strange it was that I was unmarried, and then they made some ghastly comment about myself and one of the nurses and I couldn’t bear for them to talk like that and so when I spoke with them I- I said I was ready for the day because... because my wonderful wife had made the best pancakes I had ever had for breakfast and- and-! I don’t know what came over me. By lunchtime word had got around and the chief of staff invited me and my wife for dinner and I had to say yes because, well, he's the chief of staff! And I couldn’t say no!”

Esme missed weeping. Every word hurt more than the last. She loved him with all of her heart and she wanted more than anything to be his wife. But not like this. Not as a charade. To pose as Edward’s wife would make her laugh, it would be like playing dress-up as a child, entertaining and funny, but Carlisle’s? To act out a fantasy that she would never truly live? That was cruel.

“-and I know that you do not have much experience around humans but I thought that perhaps we could go into the city for a walk around one of the parks and you could see how you feel, and we could go for drives in residential areas so you can grow accustomed to the sound and-! Esme?”

She looked up at him, stricken. “Yes?”

“Can you forgive me?”

It felt far too soon for that when his words had not even begun to sink in yet, but she could not deny him anything. “There is nothing to forgive,” she lied. It didn’t feel like a lie, though. “You were preserving the dignity of a woman you work with. That’s admirable.”

“I have wronged you. I have trapped you.”

“Not at all. But I fear I will not be ready to face a room full of humans by next week. I’m sorry.”

He watched her, troubled by her expression. “I... of course.”

“But,” she added, not meeting his gaze, “perhaps in the not so distant future I will be. Perhaps, in time, I can pretend to be your wife.” She didn’t know why she said it. Maybe it was that a fantasy was better than the reality of her never holding him as her husband. Maybe it was that she couldn’t bear to let him down. Whatever it was, it hurt. But she quickly realised, as she saw his frozen expression melt into a smile, that to please him felt better than anything else in the world.

#carlesme #anon #ask #ANON UR MIND #IS SO BEAUTIFUL #i hope u dont mind i used ur idea for a touch of angst #teehee #ellie writes

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avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

The Tower: Family - 20

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1857

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family. When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 20: The Road to Forgiveness

I organized to meet my mother for lunch a week later. Natasha, Wanda, and Thor came with me. There had been a very long discussion full of a lot of debate about who should come with me. If I’d let them they all would have, but I didn’t want the whole thing to be overwhelmed by them. Part of me had wanted to go alone, but then when it came down to it, I was still scared to be left alone with either of my parents. Besides, we were trying to keep the pregnancies out of the tabloids and if I was going to go out in public, I needed to take Natasha with me so they couldn’t see me.

Wanda came so that she could read my mother’s mind, to see if she was genuine in her attempts to shake off my father and start a new life and relationship with me. While, Thor was coming because he had that ability to both be a calming and relaxing influence, but also intimidating if need be.

We thought we’d grab lunch somewhere with a private dining room that we could just be free to talk without too many prying eyes. Then afterward we’d go shopping for baby clothes and maybe something for ourselves.

We were all well and truly showing now, and I did worry about how mom would take the news that all three of us were pregnant. Natasha wore a short, black maternity dress with knee-length black leggings underneath and a chain belt that sat above the baby bump that’s chain hung down her side. Wanda was in a long, flowing, off-the-shoulder, lace dress in cream with red flowers embroidered on the bust and around the hems. I was in a short black dress with a blue tartan skirt and a pair of black lace tights under it. Thor was in black jeans, a gray v-neck t-shirt, and his favorite red velvet jacket over it. When we suddenly appeared in front of the staff of the restaurant they almost jumped in shock. That shock was quickly replaced with a look of slight awe and definitely attraction as they looked Thor up and down.

Mom was already waiting for us when we were led into the private room. She was with my brother Ian and a small, slight woman around his age that I didn’t recognize but I assumed must be his wife because there were two kids there too - a girl who looked around eight years old and a boy around five.

Mom got to her feet and seemed to move forward like she was going to come and greet me with a hug, before stopping dead and looking me up and down. “Elise! You’re pregnant!”

“I am?” I said, looking down at myself. “Oh wow. I guess I am.”

She gave me that look moms are so good at. The ones that tell you that you’re not as funny as you think you are. To her credit, she didn’t press the issue.

“Congratulations,” she said. “And both of you too?”

Natasha gave a terse nod, while Wanda smiled. “That’s right,” she said.

“Mom, you met Wanda,” I say. “And this is Natasha and Thor.”

Thor offered her his hand. She seemed grateful to take it. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said.

Ian moved forward. “Hey, El,” he said. “This is my wife Rachel.” Despite not having touched either of the people that were related to me, I offered my hand to Rachel. She shook it and trembled a little as she did.

“So nice to meet you. Ian said you were his sister and I didn’t believe him,” she said.

“Well, we’ve not had a lot of contact over the last fifteen or so years,” I said.

“Oh, this is Josh and Hannah,” she said.

“Hello,” I said, though their attention was completely drawn to Thor. They stared up at him with their mouths open.

He crouched down and smiled warmly at them. “Hello, children,” he said. “How are you?”

“I hope you don’t mind us coming along too,” Ian said. “We came to visit mom and then your people set up the lunch…”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “It’s good to see you. Let’s sit. I’d really like to get off my feet.”

We all sat down, the kids both choosing chairs on either side of Thor. A waiter took our drink orders and left us to decide what we would order.

“How are your kids? You have two right? I read that somewhere,” Rachel asked.

“Yes, we have twins. A boy and a girl. They’re in preschool right now,” I answered. While everyone else seemed to be relaxing a little more, Natasha seemed to be getting more wound up and I was wondering if it was a good idea to bring her. “They’re good.”

Wanda looked at Natasha and Natasha pursed her lips. I was pretty certain that Wanda was telling her off because as the rest of us looked over the menu and Thor spoke with the kids about what they wanted to order Natasha’s face got tenser and tenser until she sagged and let out a huff of breath.

The waiter brought our drinks out and took our orders. I ordered four cheese gnocchi but as soon as the waiter left I regretted it. I wasn’t sure how well I was going to be able to stomach such a heavy dish considering the circumstances. Thankfully Thor ordered four different entrees and three starters, and among them was a salad and bruschetta so if I needed to, I knew I’d be able to swap with him.

“How have things been going, mom?” I asked. “They told me you’ve settled here.”

“Yes,” Mom said. “It’s a big change. Originally I was just going to stay in Ohio with Amanda but then part of me worried that if I did that I’d end up just going back to him. And I wanted to show you I was serious and make it up to you. I missed so much and I know ... I know how I treated you - all of you really - was terrible. Making you think it was okay for him to treat us like that. Making you think that was the only way to have a life. I don’t want to make excuses but it was all I knew either. And now here you are… with this other way. Are you happy?”

I smiled a little and my eyes felt a slight prickle from tears forming. “Yeah, mom. I’m really happy. This is different, you’re right. And sometimes it’s not easy. But while most people see the difference as us all being together as a group rather than just paired off, what’s different to me is I feel safe, loved, and supported. Even during our worst time, I had people who loved and supported me there helping me get through it. I just… never felt that growing up. I was scared all the time and I couldn’t see any way that would ever end, because you kept telling me all the ways I had to act to get a good husband, but a good husband wasn’t a good man, it was a rich one.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I want to try and make it up to you,” mom said. “But I know I can’t. I just hope you’ll let us start from scratch.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for too,” I said.

“Is it true that you’re all married to each other?” Hannah asked.

“That’s right, young one,” Thor said. “In fact for a while, your Aunt was the Queen of Asgard.”

“Woah,” Hannah gasped. “Really? Why not anymore?”

“After we wed I gave up the throne to my sister. She is taking care of things now so I have time to be a husband and father,” Thor explained.

“Are you really all married? I mean… officially?” Mom asked, looking between the three of us.

“As you know, on Earth Elise is legally married to Tony,” Wanda explained. “We did that for a sense of security and to protect the children’s inheritance. But prior to that, we all participated in a ceremony known as bonding on Asgard.”

“Asgard is more forward-thinking than here,” Thor added. “They are all legally my spouses and count as Asgard royalty. They are all princes and princesses there. It is much deeper too. We are connected.”

The starter came out and I pinched one of Thor’s stuffed mushrooms and began to eat it with a piece of warm rye bread that was provided for the table. I definitely wasn’t as tense as I had been when I arrived but even still, the rich buttery stuffing on the mushroom sat like a brick inside me when I swallowed it.

“Can I ask something?” Mom said. “I don’t know if this is offensive or rude but… do you know who the fathers of the children are?”

I sighed and took a sip of my drink, wishing the sweet and acidic juice had the deep burn of alcohol to go with it. “They’re everyone’s mom. Just like I’m going to be mommy to the babies that Wanda and Nat are carrying.”

“No,” she said, a little flustered. “I know, but…”

I shook my head, interrupting her. “Look, I know it’s different, and maybe even hard for you to grasp because you did play favorites. But we don’t. Not with these kids. We do happen to know biology. Part of that was because of medical issues that might have arisen depending on whose biology was involved. But as far as how we act and how we treat the kids, they are loved equally by everyone as their own. Because they are. That is no one’s business but ours. And I want to make it clear, they could biologically have been anyone’s. We aren’t confused friends, mom. They’re my husbands and wives in every sense of the word.”

“Right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I do want you to feel okay around us. But… not if we have to fit some ideal you still have set in your head about how my life should be. It is how it is and if you want to meet the others and even the kids then you just have to be open to that difference.”

“Can we meet the other avengers?” Hannah asked.

“Perhaps someday,” Thor said. “I am sure your cousins would love to meet you too.”

“Thor,” Natasha warned, giving her head a tiny shake.

“Does that mean you’re our uncle?” Hannah asked.

A large smile broke out on Thor’s face. “Why yes it does,” he said.

“I’ve got a safer topic of discussion, and one Rachel and I can reciprocate,” Ian said. “How did you all meet and start seeing each other in the first place?”

“Oh, yes please,” Rachel added. “I would love to hear that.”

I smiled and looked at Natasha. “That we can do,” I said. “But it depends on how far back you want to go. Because it really starts way back in 1929…”

// NEXT

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athrialuxegna · 3 years

Text

Stronger than she thinks Part 5

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fanfiction | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

Hi guys, I updated the last chapters so they seem nicer to read, tell me what you think about it in the comments. I also edited the links to the previous and next chapters as they were a total mess, sorry about that! I hope that you like this story so far, I try my best to readproof it, but some mistakes remain, my bad if it’s bothering you.

Thanks for those who lived a note on the previous chapters, it means at lot! -Lys

What was I doing? That question rang in my head as I made my way to the Child Care Service. I was not a fan of kids, they bothered me more than anything else. Their cries, tears, and temper tantrums were stress-inducing for me. They made me uneasy and self-conscious with their bluntness. As we all say, "truth always comes from a child's mouth" and that's what put me on edge. I didn't know what to expect of my babysitting day. Why did I accept such a thing? Eric, of course. I wanted to know if it was his idea or if it was just a sick joke on Max's part. One can never be so sure about others' intentions and hidden agendas. The leaders had the power to make everything possible within the walls of the headquarters. Why would they want me near orphans? That's what I intended to discover.

I played with my fingers, eyes fixated on the door decorated with drawings, tiny handprints, and a whole bunch of names. How many children find themselves alone every year? No idea, but it seemed that numerous of them had gone through that door to find a new home. It was not really surprising when we knew that their parents took risks on a daily basis.

Patrols in the factionless territory could turn bad pretty fast. The homeless didn't have anything to lose, they were determined to seek their revenge on the system that shut them down without any possibility to be part of it. I understood where they came from. They had to fight to live whereas all the other factions would sustain themselves without thinking twice about them. Except for the selfless Abnegation faction that helped them the best they could by providing them supplies, clothes, and from time to time, food. However, their violence had dire consequences in the Dauntless faction.

As the soldiers of the city, we were to protect and maintain peace in the streets. We were the first to suffer from the conflicts between Factionless and the system. These children were proof of that. I sighed deeply, my fingers caressing the weird painted animals.

" I'm glad you came here, they're really excited to meet you. "

Startled by Eric's deep voice, I turned around to find him, arms crossed, shoulder pressed against the wall a few feet away from me. A small smile stretched my lips, although I could tell that it didn't match my eyes. I wasn't thrilled at the idea of taking care of children. I have never done it before because I was always afraid to make something wrong and being an only child didn't help either. I swallowed thickly, trying my best to keep my cool in front of the young leader.

"Hey, I didn't know I was coming until now," I admitted in a whisper. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Don't be so tense, they're not that bad. I promise everything will be alright, they gave their word to behave." He reassured, eyes locked in mine.

"I'm not afraid of the children," I snorted softly. "I'm more nervous about me being around them..." I shifted my weight on my other foot before adding: "How do you do? I mean, with the initiates and… kids? " I asked, curious about his answer.

Eric snickered, I didn't expect him to be so confident and relaxed, it was as if he had done it his whole life. Which wasn't far from the truth, he had taken care of the initiates since he became a leader five years ago, if not more. I didn't keep track of time as often as I should considering my job but days were pretty much the same since I've been hired to be Harrison's assistant. I felt my cheeks burn and I looked at my feet, defeated that he mocked me for being a pansycake. Which I was, but still, it hurt.

"If I can do it, you certainly can, Chris. Come on, they won't eat you."

Before I could respond, Eric opened the door and made a sign for me to enter. I heard shuffling and whispers, all noises died down as soon as I was inside. The children lined up obediently, aware of Eric's presence behind my back. I felt intimidated under the scrutiny of their innocent eyes. They were of all different ages and sizes, some were almost teenagers.

"Hi," I waved, almost shy. "I'm Christine but you can call me Chris, it's nice to meet you all."

"Hi Chris." They exclaimed in unison.

One of the oldest stepped forward, his shaggy blond hair falling in his chocolate eyes. His joyful smile was contagious, I couldn't help but return it. However, his expression changed suddenly as he seemed to think about his next words. The younger ones kept gawking at me as if I was an alien coming from another dimension. I felt the tension rising in the room as the blond hair boy opened his mouth. Was he the leader of the group or something? Is this some sort of secret children cult?

It looked like it, and this boy gave me a lot of Eric's vibes. He held his head high, his torso pumped, shoulders behind. A future leader for sure... or another Brent. That thought made me frown. How could I compare him with this asshole without even knowing his name? It wasn't fair for the teen. I pushed away any unwanted images. Having a mental breakdown in front of the kids wouldn't do me any good. No doubt that Eric would report it to Max and I was good for an endless "vacation". The other kids looked at him with mixed expressions, some seemed about to explode from excitement or take a run at any moment to come back to their games, and some were tapping their foot impatiently as if waiting for a signal to be able to speak.

"Before we introduce ourselves and let you join us, you have to pass the test." The boy sounded much older than he looked at that moment.

My jaw clenched as I pictured Brent in his place. It was so easy to see the similarities between them. Were they related? If that's the case, I'll make sure to keep my distance. My eyes widened and I stole a glance at Eric who was smirking. He only shrugged his shoulders when he met my eyes. Damn him, he should have warned me beforehand.

"Depends on what this… test is."

What would they want me to do or say? The blond boy made a sign and all children moved in sync to gather around him, whispering between them to come to an agreement. What was that? After several seconds of heated debates, they finally took their original place. Mini soldiers, perfect future initiates, are already programmed to fulfill the faction's goals. Was it Eric's doing? All these questions drove me insane, I wanted to turn around and talk to the leader alone.

I needed some clarification on what's going on and the rules of this Child Care Service. While I was thinking of it, I didn't see any worker or nurse on my way here. Did nobody care about these kids? Was it a wicked way to push me to take the job? I was so lost that I didn't register that the teenager had taken another step forward, standing right in front of me. He was almost eye level to me, he had to be at least fifteen if not more.

"So, Chris. If you want to become one of us, you have to answer one question." The boy paused to look me dead in the eyes. "What do you think of Eric?"

I blinked a few times, unable to comprehend his question. He curled an eyebrow in defiance, a smirk playing on his lips. His expression matched Brent's perfectly, so much that I shuddered. Heat rose in my cheeks, coloring my skin a deep red, I felt hot and cold, shivers running down my spine. I gathered all my courage to not react when I caught a glimpse of satisfaction in his irises. I won't let this brat get to me that easily. In truth, I was a complete wreck Brent and the boy morphed into the same person in my mind, that same wolfish grin on their lips. I slapped myself mentally to snap out of it. I needed to answer that stupid question or else they'll consider me weak and that wasn't an option.

"Cat got your tongue?" Teased the teenager, arms now crossed over his chest, surely imitating Eric's posture, but lacking his charisma.

" No, I… I didn't expect that kind of question, that's all." I felt Eric's eyes boring into my skull from behind. "We don't work a lot together so I don't think I know him as well as you do, but I trust him, he's a good person, even though he's almost always in a bad mood. I also like his jokes." I added more quieter so that the leader couldn't hear me properly. "Don't tell him that I said that but, sometimes, he's not funny but I laugh anyway to not make him feel bad."

I think I gained some extra points with my remark because the kids burst into laughter, clutching their sides as if recalling the infamous jokes of Eric. I tried my best to smile when the blond boy extended his hand to shake mine. His hold was strong and confident, showing me clearly that I just entered his territory.

"Congratulations, Chris, you're welcomed in the CCS." He bent over to whisper softly in my ear. "Eric didn't lie, you truly are beautiful."

Stunned by his boldness, I stared at him, fear evident in my eyes. Wrong move. Something flickered in his eyes, a malicious glint that made me want to run for my life. What he said took time to reach my mind. Eric told him that I was beautiful? I blushed uncontrollably, his smile grew wider, believing that he was the one to have this effect on me. I opened my mouth to retaliate but he beat me to it.

"I'm Aidan by the way. I'm sure we'll get along very well." He called over his shoulder as he turned on his heels and joined the older ones.

Petrified, I jumped out of my skin when Eric's hand found my shoulder. He put it back right away as if I just burned him. His worried eyes plunged into mine and I knew that I was screwed again. Eric was able to pick up that something was wrong. Something that we couldn't discuss in front of the kids.

"Don't let Aidan get to your head, he just likes to mess with everyone. He's a good boy when you get to know him."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I replied dryly, unconvinced.

One by one, the children came to introduce themselves. There were so many names to remember and faces to attach them to, I started to feel a pounding headache making its way into my brain. At least, it helped me get my mind off Aidan and Brent. I already had a fan club following me like lost puppies around the room. Everytime I turned around they would hide behind furniture, playing innocent. This routine kept going for some time before I got tired of walking aimlessly. The only one following me without even hiding it was a little girl who hasn't said a word since my entrance. I crouched down to her level, a reassuring smile on my lips as she cowered a little from me.

"You didn't tell me your name before," I said gently.

She just looked at me, clutching a stuffed bunny in her tiny arms. Her emerald eyes were mesmerizing, I could almost drown into these pools of rich greenery, they were gradually lighter from the center to turn into a deep olive green on the outer ring.. She looked so small and frail compared to the others, I wondered what her story was. Seconds passed and she didn't try to make a sound. I finally gave up, it will take time for her to warm up to me that's all. I brushed her hair out of her eyes, revealing her porcelain skin.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, it doesn't matter."

To my surprise, she jumped into my arms and clung to me even when others wanted my attention. I sat in a chair, humming softly an old song from before the war. I didn't remember the lyrics nor the title clearly, but I could recall the melody anytime. The mute little girl was snoring in my neck as I rocked her back and forth. She dozed off minutes prior, lulled by my voice. I didn't realize that many children were sitting around us, listening and daydreaming.

Eric was sitting in a chair nearby, his hands behind his neck, eyes closed. He seemed different among the kids, less nervous and on edge, he didn't even have to raise his voice to make his point clear. The children surely respected him. The peacefulness lasted another twenty minutes before a knocking on the door stirred awake the few ones who had fallen asleep. I came back to reality, my hand entangled in the girl's brown hair. When did I begin to stroke her head? She looked comfortable on me, her hands held my shirt as if to prevent me from abandoning her. My heart ached painfully for her, she wanted affection and attention, as any of these kids.

"Chris." I looked up to see Eric towering above me, a knowing smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "It's time for us to go, the next team is here to take over."

I admitted that I enjoyed my day here, as long as we forgot about Aidan. The girl in my arms shook her head, realizing that we were about to leave. Her fingers curled around my shirt, preventing me from putting her back down. I felt bad so bad that I hugged her back and whispered in her ear.

"I'll come back, I promise."

She refused to let me go as I tried to pry her off. I kept murmuring sweet nothings to ease her pain to no avail, she was stubborn as a honk. Eric approached and tried to take her with him but she fought back, crying silently. I didn't know what to do so I let the leader take matters in his hands.

"Violette, look at me." The brunette looked at him with teary eyes, he gently wiped her tears away. "You know that we can't stay all the time here, we have to eat, work and sleep, too." Violette nodded slightly. "We'll come back before you know it, now Martha will take care of you. I heard that she has a gift for you, one that you wanted for a long time."

Violette's face brightens at the prospect of a new toy. She kissed my cheek then wriggled in my grasp. I put her down and she ran straight to Martha who was ushering the elders towards the bathroom. A contented smile crept upon my lips, kids were so fast to change their minds. I envied their ability to forget about their problems as long as they had anything to play with.

"Fear of abandonment, a hard one to fight against at such a young age." Commented Eric beside me. "They're stronger than most of the initiates that I've trained so far."

"That's not right, they're still kids, Eric."

"I know. I don't like it either, but it's their way of processing what they've been through. They grow up faster than the other kids, they have to look after themselves because they know no one will do that for them. I try to be there whenever I can, it's obviously not enough, you know how a leader's agenda is full."

"I can help." I blurted out before I could think of it.

"That's not why I brought you here." He replied without explaining further as we made our way out of the room.

"Thanks, that was… interesting and surprisingly calming."

"I knew you'd like it. So, you'll come back?"

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Right."

A casual silence followed our little conversation. My thoughts were drifting away when he spoke again.

"What did Aidan say to you?"

"Nothing to worry about, he was just being a teenager." I dismissed with a flick of my hand.

"Don't lie to me, Chris. I saw the fear in your eyes." His tone grew cold. "What did he say?'

"That's not what he said," I whispered. "He kind of reminds me of Brent. I don't know why but I don't feel safe around him. Damn, I'm ten years older, I shouldn't feel like this." I ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to keep my composure.

Eric remained silent as I stopped dead in my tracks before we came close to a more crowded walkway. He turned his head with an eyebrow raised in question. I sighed, debating whether I should talk to him or simply keep my struggles to myself. He must have sensed my hesitation, he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing to read into my soul.

"Stop doing this."

"Doing what?" He retorted, genuinely clueless.

"Your "I'm reading your mind look", it's quite annoying." Eric rolled his eyes.

"Then stop thinking that I'll report to Max whatever you say or do, and talk to me instead of overthinking. "

That was my turn to fall into silence, his face softened ever so slightly and I felt guilty. He helped me before I even was aware of it, I should be grateful and trust him, but I couldn't because I didn't trust myself anymore. At least, not for now.

"Chris, I've already told you that seeking help doesn't make you weak nor unworthy. "

My heart skipped a beat, was this his way of saying to let him help me? His cerulean eyes screamed sincerity. Why was he caring so much about my well-being?

"Thank you, Eric. I'll keep that in mind." He nodded curtly. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Meet me here at four, we'll go together."

"Sounds good. " We shared one last look, then we parted ways.

#ericxoc #eric coulter #eric divergent #divergent #divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #four #eric divergent x oc #eric coulter x oc

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hisfavoritewolf · 3 years

Text

Who Could Win A Rabbit

Based on this post bc I never thought to write about that in-between! Thank you @loquaciousquark for the inspiration <3

No warnings, only fluff here!~ Only under a cut bc it got long!

Fenris held his breath as he slipped silently into the barn. Not even the animals stirred at his entrance, and he was grateful for it. Now, if only he could stop shivering. The storm was still raging outside, enough that he was surprised the animals weren’t awake with alarm. Perhaps they were used to it.

He found the darkest uninhabited corner in the barn and carefully removed his sheathe. He didn’t dare place it out of reach, instead opting to lay it across his lap. He doubted he’d truly sleep, but he could close his eyes... At least for a little while.

One particularly close flash of lightning sent a jolt through him, and panic rushed to meet him as several of the mules began their braying. Of course. Had his luck always been so rotten? Would it continue to be for as long as he’d live?

He pressed himself further back into the corner as he heard footsteps- even through the noise of the rain and thunder. He’d certainly be caught and likely chased off of the property. If only he could explain that he wasn’t a horse thief. Did this barn even have horses? He didn’t see any stables...

A voice rang out through the barn. “It’s alright, I’m here! Lucky- calm down, will you?”

Fenris caught a glimpse of glowstone and cringed, but his grip on the hilt of his blade faltered. They sounded so young. He’d rather not scare them, his intent was not to harm or intimidate. Still, he could hear them getting closer.

“Is something else wrong..? Thunder don’t usually get you this bad...” They murmured to their friend, and turned to see the second problem of their night. An elf huddled in a corner with a rather large blade in hand.

The moment they locked eyes, everything seemed to stop. He felt his heart drop. He was freezing, since he was lacking any cloak to shield him from the rain, and he was exhausted. Still, he forced himself to stand. He did not brandish his sword, he didn’t look them in the eyes. He simply cleared his throat.

“I apologize... I should not have-”

“What kind of moron doesn’t have a cloak?” They interject, looking more confused than anything.

“What?”

They pointed to him in his entirety. “Yer not wearin’ nothin that could help you out there. Aren’t you freezing?”

When he didn’t answer, their confusion only grew. “Stay here, I’ll be right back. Oh, and don’t mind Lucky, he’s a bit prissy.”

Before he could try to stop them, they had left. He looked to the mule as if it could answer the questions beginning to pile up in his head. Why weren’t they angry? Being caught in a barn had happened before, but this person didn’t seem alarmed at all.

It didn’t seem long at all before the stranger was back, and carrying a few items. A large blanket, slightly damp from running in the rain, and a bowl. This night was getting more perplexing by the minute, it seemed. They huffed out a labored breath and made their way across the barn. He stepped back into his corner, eyes wide and full of confusion.

“It’s just soup, dummy.”

He stared.

“Well, a blanket, too, but soup!” They grin, sitting down and holding out the items. He sat back down as well, setting his weapon to the side without thinking much about it. Too distracted. He just kept staring at the kind offerings.

“Are you certain..?” He finally said.

“What? About the soup? Well, it probably isn’t very good, but it’s something to eat, yeah?” They push the soup across the dusty floor, still smiling.

He looked between the stranger and the offering before gently taking the blanket and wrapping it around himself. He still wasn’t too certain about the soup. That seemed to strike his host.

“So.. Uh... I’m Rowan. This is me mum’s farm. You’re definitely not from here.”

He shook his head, finally deciding to take the soup. When was the last time he’d eaten..?

Rowan cleared their throat. “Where, uh... where are you from?”

“... Far.”

“... Alright. Where are you headed?”

“Farther.”

Rowan huffed, crossing their arms. “Well, gee, you’re cheery...” They look him over, curiosity glimmering in their eyes like the glowlamp beside them. It’s likely they’ve never seen anything quite like him before. Some part of him can’t blame them, but it’s still uncomfortable.

“Do you... Have a name?” It would be an odd question if he didn’t know so many slaves without them.

“Fenris.” He muttered between sips of his soup.

“Like a wolf?”

He frowned, set the soup down, and drew the blanket closer. “Yes.”

They chuckled. “That’s funny, actually!”

That’s new. “Why?”

“Well, mum said we’d be needing to find someone to hunt some wolves nearby. I told her it wouldn’t be a problem, but here you are! A wolf right in our barn!” They laughed, and Fenris’ confusion only grew.

“It is... Just a name,” He muttered. “I am no wolf.”

Rowan blinked. “Wow, you’re a very serious man.”

Silence fell. Fenris was used to being watched, but it felt so much different now that he was free. Not to mention, being watched while you’re eating was a different feeling altogether. It felt so vulnerable.

“Hey, I have an idea!” That made him jump. “You’ve got that big sword, why don’t you hunt those wolves? My mum could pay you, and then you’d have enough coin to buy yourself a cloak! And maybe a place to stay the night that isn’t an old barn.”

That was an interesting idea. Could he? As far as his abilities went, he was certain he could hunt wolves. Not a particularly fun way to spend a day, but if it would get him some coin...

“May I... Think about it?”

“‘May you’? Well, yeah, You don’t have to if you don’t want to... It was just an idea.” Rowan tilted their head, surveying him further. All he wanted was for them to stop staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. They were only curious, right?

“I, uh... I guess I’ll let you rest, and I’ll check in with you in the morning? And if yer not here, then...” They shrug, standing up and dusting off their cloak. He could already hear the storm dimming outside. “Well, then it was nice to meet you, Ser!”

They left in a hurry. Maybe he was making them just as uncomfortable. He couldn’t blame them. He likely looked like an assassin, perhaps even a wild animal trapped in a cage. Still...

Ser.

That was the first time anyone had said anything like that to him, to his memory. He spent the remainder of his night pondering that, among plenty of other things, until he finished his soup and the exhaustion finally overcame him.

Fenris awoke with a start as the barn doors opened and streaks of morning light swept through the room. It was Rowan again, but they weren’t alone. He staggered to his feet, nearly knocking over the empty bowl, and almost drew his dagger. He decided instead to draw the blanket tighter around him.

A tall woman carrying a pail stood next to the young child, squinting suspiciously at him. He tried to stand tall, but felt absolutely dwarfed in her presence. There was no further back for him to step as she approached.

“I hear you met little Rowan last night, that they told you ‘bout our wolf issue...?”

He nodded shortly. She hummed, looking down to Rowan at her side, then she sighed. “One of these days you’re going to get yourself into trouble, going and doing things like that.”

“He was shivering!” Rowan protested. The woman just laughed and patted their head.

“Yeah, yeah,” She looked back to Fenris. “So? Can you do it?”

He blinked, looking between the two. He’d thought about it for some time, but didn’t recall ever coming to a conclusion. Now, faced with the question again, he’s at least a little quicker with his response.

“Yes I can,” He nodded, locking eyes with the woman. “I would like to repay your kindness.” He glanced to Rowan, who grinned.

“Good,” The woman nodded. “Though I’ll be paying you in more than simply kindness. You can have the furs and what coin I can spare. Sound like a fair deal?”

Fenris doubted he’d find a better one. It seemed far more than generous. He nodded. “Yes, just tell me where they are and I will take care of them.”

“I think that’s the longest sentence you’ve said!” Rowan chimed in, laughing.

“Not a man of many words? Just as well, means you’ve got focus. I’m pretty sure the wolves have been coming from the south, not far from the border of the farm.”

As she spoke, Fenris shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and slung his weapon across his back once more. He adjusted to the weight of it, taking deep breaths and a moment to focus. The mother seemed surprised.

“Well, now you look like someone who can take on a pack of wolves! Maker, you looked like a drowned rat before. I was worried Rowan was pulling a prank or somethin’!” She laughed. “Well, if that’s not the case, let me introduce myself. The name’s Ori.”

She extended a hand and Fenris jumped, causing a moment of pause between all three in the room. After a moment further of hesitation, he reached out and took her hand with a firm grip. He tried not to make his cringing seem too obvious.

“My name is Fenris.”

“A wolf who hunts wolves, so you really weren’t kidding around.” She nudged Rowan with her elbow and let her hand fall back to rest on her hip. “Good luck, Fenris. Try not to die. There should only be three of them. If you can carry them all to the farmhouse when you’re done, it’d be appreciated.”

As simple as that, they started off on their own tasks. Fenris knew what he was meant to do, and he was going to do it for himself.

—

Killing the wolves was easy. Killing was something he was good at. He was strong enough to haul all three back to the farmhouse, as well. Ori idly explained that she’d be selling the meat to the butcher, and that he could sell the fur to the tailor after cleaning it.

“I’m impressed, really. A skinny little elf turns up in my barn in the middle of a storm just as I’d intended to hire a hunter? Sounds like the Maker blessed us both.” She smiled, a genuine softness about her despite the fact that she was elbows-deep in the guts of a dead wolf.

As Fenris was sipping from the cup of water she’d given him, she stopped. The look on her face grew solemn, and she glanced up at him.

“You were a slave, weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It took him a moment to respond.

“Yes. I am not anymore.”

“Good,” She grunted. “Slavers are a disgusting lot. Glad you could be rid of them. But I’ll bet you they’ll be lookin’ for ya. Am I right?”

He nodded, though he didn’t feel ashamed. He felt something stronger than shame. Perhaps anger. Rage at the life they had stolen from him, from all the horrible time spent serving his master’s whims.

“Well, then, I truly hope you can find some peace.” Ori sighed, wiping her brow on the sleeve of her shirt.

Fenris took a breath and finished what was left of the water, then set the cup down nearby. The deed of skinning and gutting the animals didn’t take much longer than expected, and they spoke no more during that time. He felt there was nothing more to say, and he was grateful she didn’t decide to pry.

“Andraste guide you, Fenris,” Ori said as he left. “It’s the least anyone could do for you.”

The walk to town wasn’t terribly far, though he felt he was lucky that the tailor’s shop had a sign with an image etched onto it along with the writing. The exchange of words and coin was short, but he felt as though a weight was finally lifted off of him as he left. Everything was different.

He walked to the inn with a new sense of pride, bought himself a fresh meal from the kitchen —rabbit stew—, and a room to sleep in that night. It was all such a strange rush of emotion, one he doubted he’d ever get used to. Even if it was by pure luck he found that farm, the rest was his doing. He could have run, but he didn’t.

For the first time in his life, he'd done something for himself. He earned his own coin, his own food. No quietly sneaking through, stealing what he needed. No guilt, no shame. Only honest coin for honest work. His work.

Perhaps he should be thankful for that storm.

#Tales Spun ; One Shot

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jjkpls · 4 years

Text

crayons ‘dul’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.7k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

It doesn't take Mr Kim too long to find a way to meet you.

A week or so later, Adrianne is handing you a little post-it where her curvy cursive spells his name, with his phone number and a time. He says he'll bring Jimmy early to school in two days, to contact him if it doesn't work for you and that he cannot wait to talk to you again. This last part you wouldn't bet on the accuracy. Adrianne says he stuttered his way through a mumbo jumbo of English and another language she didn't recognize, apologizing because he didn't know how to express what he meant but from what she could gather, he was excited to have this meeting about Jimmy.

He arrives two days later, right on time. Not a minute early nor late, perfectly on time and if you don't point it out loud, you still notice it with a discreet smile.

They both look perfectly relaxed, smiling for the man and rather calm for the boy. It's funny to see him now. Mr Kim looks pretty much nothing like the first time you saw him, with the worry, the low-key panicked, agitated state he came bursting in your classroom. He looks a few years younger, with an easy grin stretching full rosy lips, dimples digging deep in his roundish honey cheeks -almost the same as his son's, you notice with delight- wearing a straight maroon coat, this time well adjusted, that's making him even taller and more elongated if possible and of which the shade compliments his complexion endearingly so.

"Hi. It's really nice to see you." You end up greeting him first, as warmly as you can.

You've been pondering over this meeting for so long, time feeling like it never ceased to stretch out and felt dreading, dreading, dreading. It was never coming soon enough and you were terrified, even if you had no reason to doubt Mr Kim's honesty, that he'd bail on you for whatever reason.

But here he is, seemingly so open to discuss and after installing Jimmy at his desk with the same tools as last time (a pile of white sheets waiting to be filled and your set of crayons) you join him a few tables away (far enough for Jimmy not to be exposed to the conversation but close enough to keep an eye on him, or more accurately, for him to keep an eye on his guardian), pressing your hands together and against your bosom to try to contain my excitement.

"As I told you last time, Jimmy is a very sweet boy. He's not doing bad with the exercises and activities, it's quite surprising -in a great way!- since from my understanding English is not his first language, right?"

"Yeah, no, it's uh- it's Korean. We just moved from Korea a few months ago, well, right before he started school. But we- my- her mother and I would try to talk to him a bit of English at home to have him pick up on the basis..."

"Oh, that's nice! Children that young do learn languages particularly easily, it's definitely beneficial for him. I can already tell."

Namjoon sends a glance his way, a fond, dad's proud one lingering on his tiny figure hunched over the desk. You can't quite tell from where you sit but it does look like he's started drawing.

"Had you planned moving here for a long time? I mean, was it the plan from the start, that's why you wanted to teach him English?"

"No, not really." The mood feels different. It switches from rather tranquil and cheerful into a very heavy, uneasy silence his deep voice hardly disturbs. There's a glint in his eyes. It's not an easy one to look at and your heart stings as the glint takes over his whole gaze hovering over his son. You understand it's something sad. Probably painful and hard to carry even for such a strong-looking, shoulder-broad grown man.

You don't want to push it. You're curious, as one gets, but too decent and you know yourself to be too soft-hearted and sensitive, for you to be snooping through sad people's luggage. But you think back about Jimmy, whose curious eyes, beautiful but wide with something reflecting like a perfect mirror what you can now find in his dad's, and you're certain that his odd behaviour must come from that.

"Mr Kim, the reason I wanted to see you," You start, voice quieter. He's startled for a second, redirecting his attention back on you, and he looks a bit guilty. As if he highly suspects, if not already know full well, where this is going. "I do meet all the parents of my students, as I told you. But in the case of Jimmy, if I was so insistent, it's that I'm really concerned about him."

His eyes draw downwards, staring at his hands. Long slender fingers fidgeting with one another, pinching and twisting a bit. I wonder if like his son, he might start crying.

"He's lovely but he cannot- he has had a really hard time uh- how could I put it?" You don't want to sound too alarmist. You know parents have the tendency to freak the fuck out for the misinterpretation of one single word. Sometimes an onomatopoeia, misplaced, send them into a raging spiral of anxiety over what terrible condition their kid might be dealing with. Not all parents are insane or simply too quick to jump to conclusions -or plain stupid. Some understand, whatever words you use. The father sitting in front of you seems worried and pained enough you wish you could protect him but you need him to understand that his situation is serious, and how important it is for Jimmy to have the tools to change now, while he still can, before he gets too old and start to take all those unfortunate coping mechanisms as lifelong terrible habits. "He's had a hard time simply being a kid." Namjoon sighs deeply. "He doesn't speak to anyone, not even me. Hardly looks at his classmates, never approaches them. I've noticed also that talking is not the only issue, any form of expression, if not made to do because it's in the course and all the other children are doing it too, he simply won't do." Mr Kim has raised his head enough for you to see him. He's troubled, upset, worried. But he seems to want to show himself more involved and you can tell he is, you can tell he cares as he listens so carefully as you explain in great details the odd incident with the papers and the crayons he refused to play with, even without a soul to watch over his shoulder.

"I feel it's a bit more than simple timidity. Or that at least, there's something significant behind this timidity. I can understand that it might be sensitive to you," You do, his eyes are screaming at you and you can't ignore them. Sort of begging for something, you're not quite sure what, you're not quite sure they, themselves, know either. It's a terrible case of a grown adult, an apparent composed grown man with a mighty balanced life, not a child anymore, actually, a dad, appearing so vulnerable and broken. It's a horrid vision. You've never been able to handle those.

"But it's in Jimmy's interest that I know a bit more. It's quite concerning. He's at an age where he's supposed to develop those skills. If we just let him be, leave him in this... unease, whatever it is, he might adopt it for a very long time until the time comes when it's become an exhausting challenge, almost impossible, to overcome.”

"I understand what you're saying." Mr Kim starts, voice low and tiny I can hardly pick up on the words. "I noticed- I mean, he's not changed that much with me. He's never been a very loud, boisterous boy, you know? But lately, he's been a bit quieter. I can see it at home, he's a bit stoic, less... expressive." You lose the man for a second. He's staring at his son longly and you don't want to abruptly bring him back to the conversation. Eventually, he does come back on his own, clearing his throat and scratching his neck. "That's- ridiculous but I even told myself the other day that I miss his tantrums. He didn't use to throw a lot of fits but sometimes he would, for more candies or something stupid like that. But he hasn't in a while."

You can't count how many times you heard overwhelmed parents jokingly wish that their kid would just turn off, stop causing scenes, stop demanding, screaming and crying out ridiculous tantrums. You remember Adrienne, saying more than once, to chastise the behaviour of one too agitated child to take a look at Jimmy, learn to be more like him, and why can't they be like him.

The thing is, a child is not supposed to be quiet.

A child should be problematic, testing, challenging. Loud and cheerful and agitated because children are like that. They are little humans just starting this whole insane experience that is Life, trying to figure themselves out, trying to figure out the people around them and the whole world along with it. They're meant to be a mess.

They're not meant to be quiet and tranquil, and bathing in a sort of slow, stoic haze. They're certainly not meant to have this expression on their face. The one Jimmy is wearing. Of deep, deep sadness. Like he's been somewhere, he's felt something, he's lost something that has left him misplaced forever. As if he's not really part of this world, this Life, or doesn't care or know why he's in it. Just letting himself float about. Embarrassed and denying all impulse that could potentially shape him and his existence.

He's only five.

"Do you have any inclination as to why his behaviour has turned into this?"

You see the gears going into labour in his head. He looks pensive, lost in a pit of thoughts he doesn't know if he can nor should share. There's a tremble to his lips, to his fingers, a telling frown to his eyebrows as his eyes very obviously decide to avoid you. The question seems to seize him like an earthquake but somehow, it's a good one. A disturbing but potentially lucky one. One that would invite him to experience something hard but liberating, something that he really needs.

Not long after you've asked the question to which you already know half of the answer, he pauses to think it over and then decides to talk. You notice the way his body slump over himself instantly, along with an abyssal years-old sigh and he starts to talk.

"5 months ago, my- his mom passed away." You hate yourself for the way you gasp, eyes wide and already blurry as if it's appropriate, as if you're allowed when you can't even imagine the beginning of their pain. It all starts making sense and you're heartbroken. You wish you didn't show yourself so reckless, sensitive but somehow naive and unhelpful.

You mouth a silent apology and condolence you notice he accepts from the way he nods, not wanting to cut him off. He's already breathless and you wonder how many more words he has in stock before the resources shut down, right before he loses it and breaks the strong persona he has to keep straight and steady for his son. How exhausting it must be. "It was hard already in Korea but I thought -naively- that if we moved here, close to her family, maybe, being around them would ease- everything out a bit. I don't know. It was stupid." He shakes his head from left to right, scoffing to himself, a hand raised to his forehead, hiding his eyes.

"It wasn't, Mr Kim. It's very honorable of you to quit everything for your son." Your words have no effect whatsoever. Unfortunately, it's blatantly obvious, he's made up his mind already. He's guilty, he messed up, and he holds a grudge against himself for this decision and nothing a dumb teacher, sensitive and half-weeping, would say could change that opinion, as destructive and inaccurate as it may be.

"It really was. It's so different here, I thought after some time it would be worth it but I think he hates it. I think he's very confused and I don't know if he's too young to feel like that, I'm not sure, but he looks like he's embarrassed about being a foreigner. Like not speaking properly. I can't even tell if he understands well or if he doesn't get it at all when people speak to him in English since he just- he can't really communicate. Even with his cousins, it's-"

Oh.

"Oh." Now that you hear him say that, it lights a small bulb hidden at the back of your head. It shines upon a whole roof-tall shelf holding all of those awkward, disagreeable memories you tend to forget actively because even reflecting on them decades later still sends a thrill of disgust the length of your spin.

It's those moments of pure embarrassment, of horrid dreading feelings that you used to be overwhelmed with as a child and this until you were not much more of a child anymore, and those memories paired with their emotions simply faded into shadows of scenes that you can only wonder if they ever were real.

You used to be filled with stupid insecurities based on very confused, distant, impossible to decipher pretend truths, sometimes, you would just feel stupid. Completely idiotic, ignorant, and unlovable. In those moments, you just couldn't dare open your mouth to pronounce a word that would give you away. Because if you did, somehow, you would end up messing up and people would laugh and make fun of you and hate you because there are so many reasons to and of course you deserved it.

Images of the little boy, hiding obviously in a corner but longingly observing his peers. Obviously terrified but curious, and most definitely desiring.

Because of course, he'd want to. Talk to them, be with them but how could he when he's not even sure he could speak the way they do.

"Mr Kim, I can tell he wants to. Even if he can't let anyone approach him, I can tell he'd like to be part of the group. That being said his fears or as you said, maybe his insecurities, don't allow him to."

"Should I- Should I seek for a therapist? He had one in Korea but I don't think he was ready for it. He just reacts very badly to strangers, especially when they try to, you know, sink into your brain and- now that we're here, I can hardly picture how that would go."

"Well, therapy is never a bad idea. It can only be beneficial for him... for anyone." You're not sure how appropriate it is for you to add this but you owe to say it. Sometimes, parents don't realize, but a child's deepest wounds are born from seeing and feeling their guardians'.

"I'd seen someone already." He explains without needing you to insist further. Seems like you're not as subtle as you thought yourself to be. "I did because- I had to. His mom and I had been separated for a while before her passing, it'd always been complicated between us and I can't lie, I did feel terribly guilty... I thought it might hurt him somehow. Maybe he could feel it and experience it too. I had to for the both of us. It fixed me but not him, so I suppose, it didn't come from that."

"Grief is... It's very complex. It comes along with a plethora of confusing, untamed emotions as an adult but for a child... It must manifest in a way we can't even imagine. I'm sorry, you don't need me to tell you that." You're a mess of stutters. Words are running away from you, the smart ones are even flying, making sure there's no way you'd catch them by the tip of the tail. You just want to ease this father's struggles, somehow. You don't know him much but you know his son, a little, and you, for reasons you don't care much to look into, deeper than simply you having a saviour complex, need to help it all resolve. They don't deserve any of it all. No one does.

It might be silly. But the thought of Jimmy, that sweet, lovely child, sensitive and precious as he is, must have a father quite special himself to have been brought up this way.

"No, it's fine. You're right." A heavy silence settles in between you. In the background, faintly, you can hear the soft rustling of the tip of a crayon against paper. You open your mouth, the fantastic memory of the other day, when he arrived late to pick Jimmy up and something you still, a week later, recalling itself back to you. He opens his at the exact same time and before you're able to utter any word, he's the one starting, "Actually, I really appreciate it. Being able to talk about it like that with someone. Since my therapist, I don't think I was able to. People only have enough tolerance for other's pain. Which I understand, it's just- hard and well, I'm thankful for you."

He stammers saying that, seemingly scrambling with his own words. The compliment is so heartfelt, like a shot from his heart directly into yours. Most of the emotions it rises probably coming from his choice of wording, maybe an error of translation, a lack of exactitude that doesn’t come smoothly. You've never heard anyone said those words to you and somehow, so unprepared for it, you can hardly handle the overwhelming burst of gratitude.

With the greatest pleasure, you jump on the occasion to bring something good to him, what you meant to say when he started first, the story about last time and how confident you are that better days are yet to come.

It brings an evident brush of light to his expression. The youthful sense he gave off when he just walked in, made of warm colours and smiles, is back. As if a weight has been lifted. As if he trusts you with his son, now wearing his hopefulness and trust and appreciation on this soft face of his, and you feel yourself blush in delight.

It’s precisely why you do what you do. Most of the times, those moments come in more subtle, almost dubious manifestations. It’s a drawing made ‘only for you, Miss’ or a kid you haven’t seen in a few years recognising you from across a hallway and beaming all his teeth your way; or maybe a present too nicely picked out and wrapped up too well to be the product of a kid’s, handed to you at the end of the year.

It's a wonderful feeling you're experiencing.

Until it turns sort of awkward. You mean, from a third party, maybe from Jimmy's eyes, it’s definitely awkward. It doesn’t exactly feel this way for you though. You're just kind of staring at each other, grinning obnoxiously. Delighted by the turns of events -even more so with the start of the conversation, which brought difficult painful shocks to an already sensitive soul, the benevolence and mutual understanding feel all the more pleasant.

Conquered by each other in a way you probably won’t be able to express very well with words if any of you tried. You see in him an ally -which is always such a wonderful feeling because as curious as it is, all parents are not always reliable allies to you, teachers- and you think he does too.

It’s just that it lasts for quite a bit. Probably too long. Until finally, the rummage going on outside brings you back to earth and school that is about to start in a few reminds itself to you.

Quickly he thanks me again, in between the bursting in of a loud, chatty-feeling Riley Donovan, and a Charlotte dragging her feet in discontent. He says something about meeting again before he’s rushing to Jimmy, whose calm demeanour has wavered when his classmates starting walking in.

It’s as heartwarming as last time. The way Mr Kim just has to lean forward to wrap his arms around Jimmy to have him melt onto his chest, face burying in his neck and tiny hands squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until the chubby fingers turn white against his dad’s neck. There’s an exchange of secret words and of gazes, special ones that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, you believe on the moment, until Mr Kim needs to depart and does so.

The gaze Jimmy had for his dad doesn’t disappear right as the later leaves. It remains and is directed solely on you in a very peculiar way, so notable that your heart starts racing when you notice.

Jimmy who usually avoids eye contact, sometimes would look at you, if you're addressing directly to him for example and those looks are systematically made of bewilderment, maybe fear, definite insecurity. Like a prey caught in a predator's radar.

But now those eyes, the round, dark wonders are lingering with something utterly different. A stillness that hits so differently. You're not sure if you are seeing things, if it’s wishful thinking. If it’s you now watching through the lens of someone beyond enchanted, purely content from the newfound trust and confidence and inspiration.

When you free your class for recess, you have confirmation that something has changed. You have no idea how he did it without you noticing but as you turn your back to the door to face your desk -and your chair, which your legs are dreading to have you throw yourself on- you see the perfect tidy pile of your crayons laid carefully on top of it. A few papers are sitting next to it, less than you gave him.

It’s ridiculous, embarrassing to an extent you would never tell that moment out loud but you end up jumping on the balls of your feet, clapping your hands together like a stupid seal, squealing before grabbing the stack of crayons and pressing it to your heart.

A/N : thanks so much for having waited for me so patiently; as always, lots of love send your way, thanks so much for reading, i hope you enjoy it :)

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #thekimlinenet #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts scenario #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon scenario #namjoon drabble #my writing

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Memories // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Sixth blurb request! For @paniconthepitch Requests are still open!

I know this was suppose to be a blurb, but I got carried away soooo :) enjoy that.

I really like this one guys

Summary - Readers boyfriend breaks up with her and she heads to Matthews house, where she recalls all the times she knew she was in love with Matthew.

Word Count - 2.7k

Prompts - "Just shut up and kiss me." & "I need a place to stay."

You know those days where you think they are going so well, and suddenly, the worst possible outcome of the day happens?

That was today for me.

After such a great date night, I didn't quite imagine myself walking down my boyfriends street crying.

Or should I say ex-boyfriend.

I trudged down the road, my fists clenched at my sides and head held as low as it could physically go without detaching from my body. I knew that moving in with him was a risky move, but I didn't have much choice. I had been kind of couch surfing for a while and he offered to let me stay at his house. A stable roof over my head.

Or so I thought.

Now here I was, heading in no particular direction with only a small suitcase dragging behind me, a wallet in my hand and a phone in my pocket. I had been walking for about 20 minutes. Turning down random streets, not really paying attention to what was happening. Here's another question for ya.

Have you ever heard of the saying, 'When it rains it pours.'?

Well I have. And I am currently experiencing it. Just as I turned onto what seemed to be the first familiar street I had seen in the past 20 minutes, it started *raining*. But not just sprinkling, no, I wasn't that lucky. It was a total downpour.

I looked up at the green sign above me.

*Oakland Street*

That was Matthew's street!

See, Matthew and I had been friends for a long time. I considered him family. His mom and my mom were great friends, and still are. She visits Marilyn still. But I rarely see him anymore, he's always busy filming which is completely understandable. And now your probably thinking.

*If he was such a good friend, why didn't you ask him for help when you were couch surfing?*

Well the short answer is that I was embarrassed of being basically homeless. I look up to him and I didn't want him thinking I was a lost cause or helpless little girl.

But I had no choice now.

I trudged up to his door in my now soaked clothes. I was still crying, despite me *really* trying to hold it together.

It was 9:38 and I was hoping he was still up. Chances are he was, judging by the many sleepovers we had in the past where he would stay up until 4 am. I knocked softly on the door, backing up a few steps from it. I wiped my face a little, trying to dry it from tears and raindrops, but miserably failing.

The door opened slowly to reveal Matthew in plaid pajama pants and a white tee. As expected, he was holding a cup of coffee, which he quickly set down on a table near the door.

"Y/n?" He tilted his head, not coming out of the doorway. I was sure I looked like quite the mess right now. Soaked clothes, flushed face, messy hair, exactly what I *didn't* want him to see.

"I need a place to stay." I was now looking down, tears welling up in my eyes again from sheer embarrassment. I could feel my fists clenching together, nails sure to leave bruises in my hand.

"Come in, come in." He waved me in. I kept my head down as I walked through his door. "Are you alright? What happened?" I had a problem with Matthew where I just couldn't lie to him, it had been like that all our lives. He was so hard to keep things from, whether it was because he was my best friend or because it was so hard to look into those soft brown eyes and tell a lie.

"I've been living with Ben for a while, because I haven't exactly had enough money to keep up with rent payments... But he just broke up with me." I looked up to see pity written across his face. "Please don't look at me like that. I know it's pitiful." I leaned my head all the way back on his couch, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm not trying to show pity y/n, I'm just worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you were having troubles?" He put his hand on my knee, shaking it for an answer.

"Because I knew you would look at me like that!" I waved my hands around his face.

"Whatever you say. Just tell me what happened." As soon as I got a few words out, I was tearing up again.

*"I just don't understand Ben! I want to understand! You never talk to me anymore." I was gesturing wildly with my hands, something I had picked up from Matthew at a young age. I was trying to get my point across.*

*"I feel like I'm taking care of you y/n! I don't need a child I need a girlfriend!" His eyes held so much hate, much different from the soft green ones I had fallen for a few months ago.*

*"What are you even talking about? I just got a job Ben. I clean the house every week. I cook dinner for you, and I'm paying part of the rent! What more do you want from me?" I felt so confused and defeated, the longer I talked the quieter my words became. "If you want me to leave I will. Is this some sick, twisted way to say you don't love me anymore?" He went silent for a moment.*

*"I don't love you anymore." His arms hung heavy at his side. Are you kidding me?*

*"Did I do something wrong?"*

*"You're just, you're hard to love y/n." What the fuck is that suppose to mean?*

*"Fuck you Ben! I did nothing to you." I ran to our shared room, packing my suitcase and grabbing my charger and wallett from the side table. "You are a real piece of work." I could feel my body aching from mental exhaustion. "I'll be back to get the rest of my stuff another day." I stood by the door, grabbing the handle. "Hopefully if I'm so hard to love, I won't be so hard to get over."*

"And that was the last thing I said to him." Matthews thumb wiped a tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."

"You don't have to apoligize for having emotions y/n. I'm here for you, always." He had first said this to me when we were in middle school, I thought that was the sweetest thing a teenage boy could say. "You can stay here as long as you want, I miss seeing you around anyway." He smiled, pushing some hair behind my ear. I set my head on his shoulder. It was really hard talking to him about this stuff. I think the real reason it was so hard to lie to him, was because it's hard to lie to someone you are *so* in love with.

Matthew seemed to be out of reach my whole life. It wasn't that he was massively popular, or that we were part of different cliques. It was really just because I thought he could never see me as anything more than a friend.

When I was 13, that's when I fell in love with him. I just didn't know it at the time.

*"Y/n this is so great! I can't believe I got the lead!" Spencer was spinning in my swivel chair that sat at my desk.*

* "I've always told you that you we're good at acting. Maybe you'll be an actor?"*

*No way! I'm gonna be a lawyer or something." He nearly fell from the chair laughing, as if the proposition of being an actor was so out of this world. There was a sparkle in his eye that I had never seen before. It was so refreshingly different from the days he had come to me after school, telling me that some assholes were pushing him around.*

*"I'm so happy for you, you're gonna do amazing! You better not leave me when you're famous." I shoved his shoulder playfully. That was truly a joke, but I could feel, deep in my subconscious, I was afraid that maybe he would.*

*"I would never!" And he didn't.*

But I couldn't do anything about how I felt.

"I don't wanna be a burden on you." I had stopped crying, but I was still slumped on the couch like a wet rag, *literally*.

"You could never be a burden on me. Here." He handed me a picture frame from his side table. It was of me and him when were were 22, it was a surprise party I threw for him. "Do you remember this?"

"How could I forget the first time I got you drunk?" And the night I realized I was in love with you *for sure*.

*Matthew had refused to get drunk on his 21st birthday. He was so responsible that it was nearly infuriating. So when he texted me telling me that someone came up to him on the street and offered him a modelling job, I knew I had to throw a party. Just me him and some of our friends.*

*I led him into my house with 4 of our other friends there. There was a seemingly illegal amount of liquor on my dining room table.*

*"Oh no! Y/n no, you're not gonna get me drunk!" He looked down at me disapprovingly. I stuck my bottom lip out, and gave him puppy dog eyes.*

*"Please Matthew? Just one time? I wanna know what kind of drunk you are." My puppy face turned into a slightly mischievous one.*

*"What kind of drunk I am?"*

*"Yeah! Like sad drunk, funny drunk, angry drunk, sleepy, reckless, philosophical. I wanna know!" I giggled, dragging him over to the table and already pouring him a shot.*

*"Fine, just one time."*

*And I did find out what kind of drunk he was.*

*A lovey drunk.*

*"Brian. You are the coolest person I know!" Matthew slurred, leaning over to our mutual friend. "And Katie is the funniest." He pointed to Katie. "And you! You are my favorite person in the whole world, you know that?" He was now laying in my lap, his head looking up at me.*

*"You are a mess." I laughed, patting his cheek.*

*"I am not a mess! I'm totally coherent! I love you so much! Look at you!" He sat up, kissing my cheek. I'm glad he was drunk because I didn't want him to remember the dark shade of red my cheeks turned afterward.*

*I loved this man, and it was kicking me in the ass.*

"A lovey drunk you called me." He chuckled as I gripped the frame.

"Do you remember all the things you said that night?" I half smiled, remembering the kiss om my cheek.

"Not really, to this day I live in blissful ignorance."

"Well today is the day you know." I giggled, crossing my legs on the couch and facing him.

"Wait! Before you tell me of all the dumb things I did that night, let me get you some dry clothes." He stood from the couch, heading to his room.

"Thank you!"

He came back holding and NYU hoodie and some sweatpants. I snatched them from his arms with a big smile and headed to the bathroom to change.

The only time before that I had worn his clothes was freshman year after an asshole from school pushed me in the mud while we were on our way to study at Matthew's.

*Matthew and I were walking side by side on the walkway, talking about random things.*

*"If you do get a cat, what are you gonna name it?" Matthew asked, keeping his eyes forward.*

*"I think I would name it Leo. After Leonardo DiCaprio, he's a dreamboat." He looked at me with an eyebrow raised.*

*"Really? That dork?"*

*"Says you! You're a huge dork!" I nudged him into the road with a laugh.*

*Just then I heard loud and fast footsteps coming from behind us. Suddenly large hands were shoving me into the nearest mud puddle. I gasped at the cold liquid that was soaking through my jeans and yellow shirt.*

*"Nice outfit y/n!" The asshole laughed, running down the sidewalk.*

*"Fuck you Ricky!" Matthew threw up his middle finger and helped me out of the mud. "Come on, I'll give you some clothes at my house."*

*When we arrived he handed me sweatpants and a Nirvana shirt. I changed into it and Matthew probably laughed for 10 minutes straight. I was pretty short around that time, and Matthew had just had his growth spurt. To make a long story short, I was swimming in those clothes.*

I was now staring at myself in the mirror, wishing I had the chance to get use to the feeling of wearing his clothes.

"Okay! Time to remember an embarrassing night Gube!" I shouted, feeling far better now that I was in warm clothes. I plopped onto the seat, scooting next to Matthew. "Alright. Now what do you wanna know first?" I set my chin in the palm of my hand.

"So, what exactly is your definition of a lovey drunk?" He mimicked my position.

"A drunk who is very kind. They are constantly complimenting everyone around them and expressing their love and fondness. Can even turn a sad or angry drunk to a happy one." I shrugged.

"Okay, fair enough. What did I say that night?" I smiled evily.

"Ok, well, you told Brian that he was the coolest person ever. And Katie was labelled the funniest ever. You gave Mallory ten bucks for all the advice she had given you in the past. And you hugged Alex for around 5 minutes straight." The image of Matthew swaying with Alex was clear in my memory like it happened yesterday. He threw his head back him laughter, his face reddening with slight embarrassment.

"Did I say anything to you?" He stared into my eyes like he was going to find the words there before they came from my mouth. I rubbed my hands together.

"Uh, yeah. You told me that I was your favorite person in the whole world." He smiled at that. "And then I told you that you were a mess. But you informed me, so graciously, that you were *not a mess* and *totally coherent*. Then proceeded to say 'I love you so much! Look at you!' And you kissed my cheek." I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, I was now looking down at my hands.

"Well you are my favorite person in the world," He tilted my chin up with his hand. "still. Maybe I'm an honest drunk."

"What's that suppose to mean?" I cocked my head to the side.

"Maybe I'm an honest drunk who was just sober enough to be too nervous to kiss you on the lips?" It came out as a question, I wasn't sure if he was genuinly asking a question or he was saying that that is *exactly* what happened. I'm hoping for the latter.

"What do you-" I was interrupted by his hand grabbing my chin.

"Just shut up and kiss me." He brought my lips to his, and of course I didn't hesitate at all to kiss back.

I ran my hands through those curls that I loved so much. His hands gripped my hips as I leaned into him more, I was so afraid that this was going to be a dream.

Like it was so many other times.

As he pulled away I kept my eyes closed, still hoping that it actually happened.

"Hey, are you okay?" He patted the side of my face lightly.

"Yeah, more than okay. How long?"

"Since we were 20. You?"

"Sometime in middle school." I snickered.

"Well either way, far too long." He put his finger under my chin again, bringing me into another kiss.

*Thanks Ben*

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fluff #MGG

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