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writer-k-pop · 3 years

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Lil’ Drunk

기억나? Do you remember it?

Description: Alcohol is something you never touch, it's just not your cup of tea. But one night, you decide to throw caution to the wind because you were feeling guilty for being the only sober one whenever Woozi and his friends drink together. But after you drink a little too much, Woozi is called in to get you home safely. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Angst, Fluff, BF!Woozi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"She's...." Woozi's voice trails off on the other end of the line.

"Drunk." (y/f/n) finishes, holding your phone up to her ear.

"How? She never drinks." He wonders incredulously but at the same time is scrambling to collect his things.

(y/f/n) shrugs, "Well, she did tonight. And she drank a lot."

"Is she gonna get sick on the way home?" Woozi wonders, slightly worried about how he's going to get you home.

"I don't think so. She's just very, mm, very emotional." (y/f/n) says glancing over as you have your head buried in your hands. Not tears yet, just massive amounts of guilt.

Woozi sighs more out of worry than anything. Worry because you really never drink. Partly because you're a lightweight and partly because you hate, absolutely despise, the way alcohol makes your body feel. Gets you all red and itchy and it's not a fun time for you.

"I'll be right over. Could you text me your address?" Woozi asks, slipping on his jacket.

"Yeah, no problem." (y/f/n) says and hangs up before texting Woozi her address. Then she places your phone back into your purse.

Your hands drop from your face then and you continue your previous rant, cheeks are still bright red as is the little amount of chest showing. And from the last bathroom trip, everyone knows your thighs are also cherry red.

"I just, I just feel so so so bad." You lull your head to the side. "Like I know it's not my fault for not enjoying alcohol or the taste or how it makes my body feel but I feel so bad when all his friends are drinking and I'm the only sober one."

"Who wants to play another game?" Another one of your friends asks, trying to break the odd tension you've created. But the question only springs another tangent from you.

"And games!" You throw your hands into the air, "When we play games and it involves drinking I try not play because half of the time Woozi has to drink for me! Why am I always the sober one?" You lean in close to the person next to you to emphasize your question.

"Because you have your reasons." She answers your question with a humored smile. She's clearly enjoying your drunken state as are the others along with a little worry cause they've never seen you drunk or drinking before.

"My reasons make me feel guilty." You pout like a child. "I'm starting to wonder if I should drink more and force myself to get better with it all."

"No, no, no." (y/f/n) quickly shakes her hands in front of her, "That's probably not a good idea. Remember the last time you tried that?"

"When did I ever do that?" You ask, blinking blankly at her.

"Before you finally gave up on alcohol the first time." She reminds you and the memory resurfaces like a bad nightmare.

You visibly shiver and suddenly have a craving for water. "Pass me the water bottle?" You reach out a hand and one of your friends places it in your hand. "I still feel guilty as hell though." You mention after taking a couple sips.

Before you could spiral back into the guilt ridden speech, Woozi knocks on the front door.

"Who's that?" You whip your head around as (y/f/n) goes to answer the door.

She opens the door and reveals Woozi to the room and to you. As soon as you see him, you press your lips together to keep from saying anything about your earlier rant.

"You ready to go?" Woozi asks you, walking closer with a warm smile on his face. If you were sober you would've noticed the tinge of worry in his eyes but you were drunk so that detail went way over your head.

Not wanting to break your newly found code of silence, you simply nod your head though questions are flying through you mind.

Why is he here?

Where am I ready to go?

Is he taking me?

Are we all going together?

(y/f/n) hands Woozi your purse as you stand and walk to his side. Then he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you out of (y/f/n)'s place. You stumble here and there but are pretty stable when walking which brings some relief to Woozi.

"Did you have fun?" He asks you while waving down a taxi.

Again, in your code of silence, you just nod while focusing on staying standing and not letting your butt meet the concrete sidewalk.

Within seconds, a taxi pulls up and Woozi ushers you into the back seat before joining you and telling the driver an address. You're not sure if it's your address or his. If it's his then you're going to be going to an apartment with twelve other guys who will definitely never let you live this down. But that thought hasn't hit you yet.

You let your head fall onto Woozi's shoulder during the car ride and he lazily intertwines your hands together.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asks you quietly and you just nod your head truthfully.

"How much did you drink?" He continues to question you but you only shrug, staying silent.

Woozi chuckles, "(y/f/n) said that you were being chatty and ranting about something. But now you're all quiet."

Again, you just give him a small shrug as an answer.

"Just tell me if you don't feel good, okay?" He asks, concern now seeping into his voice slightly but again, it goes right over your head.

You nod your head and feel your eyelids become heavy. Guess the adrenaline only lasts while your friends are there to keep fueling it.

By the time the taxi stops and Woozi pays, you're about ready to fall fast asleep.

"Just a bit longer, (y/n)." He says and tugs you out of the taxi before closing the door and wrapping his arm around you waist again.

"I really don't want the other guys to see me." You suddenly spit out and Woozi walk falters ever so slightly.

"I wouldn't bring you back to the dorm." He explains, "(y/f/n) lives closer to your place anyway."

You gasp, "You know (y/f/n)?" You ask, shocked in your drunken state.

"We've met a few times and she called me tonight to come and pick you up." He explains.

"Why would she call you?" You wonder, "I was fine. We were all fine."

Woozi sees the tiny opening in the conversation and dives straight for it, too curious to be stopped. "Well, she said you were getting emotional."

You place a hand over your chest, "I was? No, I wasn't. I was just explaining how I feel bad because my boyfriend and his friends like to drink but I always end up being the sober one. And then my one friend had to mention games and then it only reminded me how my boyfriend - his name's Woozi by the way - my boyfriend always has to drink for me if we play games and how terrible I feel about it because he has to drink twice as much." You inhale dramatically after rushing the last bit as your breath ran out with it.

Woozi stays silent and internalizes your words. In all honesty, your soberness never bothered him. He didn't mind drinking for you since he had a pretty good tolerance and drinking for you allowed him to get to an enjoyable buzz quicker than if he was drinking for just himself. And again because of his tolerance, he never minded that you were sober. He was always essentially sober when his friends drank so it was nice to have you around as another sober person. Plus he knew you detested the feeling you got when you drank so he respected that and never tried to get you to drink.

"Heyyyyyy." You point to your front door, "This is the same number as my place! Has your place always been the same number as mine?" You ask, turning towards him with wide curious eyes.

Quickly unlocking your front door, he chuckles, "No, this is your place." He says and opens the door before you go bounding inside.

"Woozi! Look!" You exclaim, gesturing to your couch, "It's my COUCH! I sat right here while you and all your friends drank that one time." You plop onto the couch and groan while squeezing your eyes shut, "And I was the only sober one that time too."

Closing the front door, all Woozi can do is shake his head and chuckle at your current state.

-the next morning-

Rolling out of bed, a low throbbing in your head makes you groan. Stumbling towards the kitchen, your mind replays hazy dream like memories of you going over to (y/f/n)'s place, deciding to throw in the towel and drink, and drink some more, then Woozi showed up and brought you home where you think you screamed something about your couch before talking about being sober.

"You're awake." Woozi states the obvious as he stands next to the coffee maker, "I was just about to come and wake you up."

You give him a half smile, the most you can muster with your headache raging, "My head is killing me, do I have any painkillers or something?"

Woozi chuckles and points to the dining table where a large glass of water sits next to a napkin with two painkillers. "Way ahead of you. And drink the whole glass. It'll help."

You nod and pop the pills into your mouth before washing them down with the entire glass of water.

"Did I really drink that much last night?" You wonder and head into the kitchen to refill the glass.

"I don't really know how much you drank." Woozi admits while pouring out his coffee, "But yeah, I would guess it was a lot."

Leaning back against the counter, you let your head fall forward in dismay.

"Do you remember it?" Woozi asks, copying your position opposite of you.

You nod slowly, "It's foggy but I remember pretty much all of it, yeah."

"You want to talk about it?" He offers a small smile.

"Don't you have to get to work?" You wonder, looking over at the clock in concern.

Woozi shrugs his shoulders, "Work can wait for a little. Plus I don't technically have to be in for a few hours."

You sigh and purse your lips, "Why was I talking about being sober?" You ask, still curious as to why the word 'sober' kept appearing in your memories.

"Well, you kind of get emotional when your drunk, apparently. And last night, you kept ranting about how bad you felt that you are always the only one who's sober when we get together with my friends." Woozi fills you in and your face drops in embarrassment.

"Oh fuck me." You groan and rub your hands over your face. "Oh, god, that's, oh god."

Woozi walks up to you and pulls your hands away from your face, "You know it doesn't bother me right?"

Looking at him, you ask, "Being an emotional drunk or being the only one who doesn't drink?"

A light smile touches his lips before he answers, "Both. But I'm mostly talking about you being sober while my friends and I drink."

"Really?" You question him, "Are you sure it doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not." Woozi says, gripping your hands a little tighter.

"Even when they make you drink for me when we play games?" You ask, scrunching your lips together.

"Even when they make me drink for you." He repeats your words with a light tone, "It doesn't bother me in the slightest. In fact, sometimes I enjoy those times."

"You- why?" You stutter, curious.

"Because of my tolerance, on a normal night I can barely get a buzz enough to tolerate the others but on game nights, when I drink for you, I reach that comfortable buzz faster." He explains, "And then Dokyeom, Hoshi, and Dino become ten times funnier."

He chuckles and you try to control a smile by lowering your head down but a little giggle comes out anyway.

"But I already talked to the guys." Woozi continues which brings your head up to meet his gaze. "I asked them to quit it with the 'if you're playing a drinking game, you need to be drinking alcohol' rule. They said fine so when we play, you can sip whatever drink you want to."

"Why?" You ask, feeling gratitude to Woozi but also some confusion as to why he would do that.

"Cause I was starting to sense that it wasn't sitting right with you that I was drinking for you." He tells you, "Yes, I picked up on that. I'm your boyfriend, I could read you after like six months of dating."

"Damn, I guess I gotta get better at hiding my thoughts then." You joke and Woozi rolls his eyes.

"Good luck." He offers encouragement with a touch of sarcasm and you stick your tongue out at him.

But Woozi quickly wipes the scowl away with a soft kiss to your lips.

"Thank you for talking to the guys. You really didn't have to." You tell him with a grateful smile.

"I kind of had to. They really were being pushy with the whole thing." He says, matter-of-factly. "Hey, can I ask why you drank yesterday in the first place?" He wonders, wrapping your arms around his waist before placing his around your waist.

You shrug, "I guess I was kind of tired of being the sober one so I just grabbed a drink and drank it."

"But you hate how alcohol makes you feel." He reasons.

"I do. But I just was feeling so guilty about possibly being a downer cause I don't drink that I guess, I just didn't care last night." You explain and rest your head on his chest/shoulder. "And I don't think I'll do it again. I really hated the feeling. And my body got so red, I swear it looked like I was sunburnt."

"Ah, more like you had just belly flopped into a pool." Woozi corrects your simile and you shoot a look up at him.

"What?" He counters your look, "Someone had to get you into your pajamas and you were in no state to do it yourself."

You bury your face into his neck as a blush blooms on your cheeks.

Woozi laughs and hugs you closer, "It's okay, you were an adorable drunk. And by the way," He shuffles the two over to where you can see the living room and he points to the couch while laughing, "That is indeed your couch."

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen woozi imagine #seventeen jihoon imagine #woozi imagine #jihoon imagine #woozi #lee jihoon imagine #lee jihoon #seventeen woozi #seventeen jihoon #writer-k-pop

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prettyguardiankore-blog · 3 years

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Their Return (Levi x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 9

(updated completely on my ao3!)

… 47 ... 48 ... 49… . .50! You let out a labored exhale as you collapsed onto the floor, muscles aching. You used to be able to pump out 100 like nothing, and now, it took you twice as long, and you could barely muster 50. This decided it. You were going to start training again. It unnerved you knowing you were this weak. You groaned as you slowly pulled yourself up from the ground, wincing slightly as your muscles pulled. You glanced down at your chest. Boob sweat. Nice. You reached over to the bench for your towel and began wiping yourself down.

They had left in the morning. You hadn’t slept much, and after a restless slumber, you woke up and peered out of your window, to see a flurry of Scouts pouring out of the castle's main gate. It had been raining.

📷

Most of your morning had consisted of you curled up under your covers, desperately trying to return to sleep, so you wouldn’t think about the expedition. Although, it quickly became evident it wouldn’t work- being in your room doing absolutely nothing was a more tortuous task than you’d anticipated. After realizing that being alone with your thoughts wouldn't do, you began to pack your morning with anything and everything you could to pass the time. So far you’d updated the library catalog, dusted the shelves, helped the cooks clean the kitchen (a task that had earned you a small basket of fruits, which you graciously accepted.), and watered some plants. Hell, you’d even cleaned your room, the filthy mess it was. And now you’d just finished a workout. You looked at your watch. It’d been about two hours since you’d come into the training room. That should be good for today, you decided, so you gave yourself one last wipe down before shutting the door, and heading back to your room.

You needed a shower. You stunk, bad. As you entered your room, you marveled once again in how spacious the floor actually was when it wasn’t covered in shit, and headed to the bathroom, removing your sticky sports bra and exercise shorts, and popping yourself into the cool water. They should be returning soon, you thought, as you scrubbed your scalp. Occupying yourself with busywork hadn’t actually done much to calm your nerves, it only distracted you. All day you’d been thinking about them. How many of them would return? If any of them would return... You felt a lump rising in your throat as you clasped your hand over your lips to stop their trembling. You’d never been so emotional. Hange and Moblit had gone on plenty of expeditions, so why were all these fears resurfacing now? You shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to begin getting ready. It was probably because of Furlan. Your chest grew heavy as you replayed through your own memories. The last conversation I had with him reminded me so much of her … you slapped your cheeks. Stop projecting. It wasn’t fair to Furlan or Marla, and it certainly wasn’t doing your mental wellbeing any justice. You sighed, and returned your attention to getting ready. You didn’t want to take too long, so you put your hair up as quickly as you could, threw on a simple sundress your mother had sewn for you ages ago, and headed out the door. You couldn’t wait any longer, and they should be arriving back soon.

You decided to just wait at the top of the tower until you saw them entering Wall Rose. You’d done basically everything you could to pass the time at this point, so all there was left to do was to wait. You stepped up the narrow stairs, and popped into the area. ★Cold air immediately hit your face, and you shivered. I should’ve brought a jacket, you grimaced, rubbing your arms. You’d forgotten how cold it could get up there. You perched yourself onto the wall's edge and peered down below. Everything looked so small from up there.

Jump off.

You blinked, before slowly removing yourself from the edge. Let’s not get into that right now. ★ You stared mindlessly out into the city, until eventually, you noticed something.

📷

You stared out near the gate. You couldn’t see much, but at the very least from where you stood, you could make out a large group of people accumulated near the entrance. You twiddled your thumbs nervously together. It would be around half an hour before they made it back to the castle. So now you had to wait again. You groaned, and slumped your forehead into your palms. You almost wished you hadn’t seen them enter the wall, because now your restlessness had increased tenfold. So you just stood there, eyes closed tightly shut, waiting. The wind brushed against your face. I wonder if the wind is whistling right now. After what seemed like years, you shot a glance over the wall. Your eyes widened. They were back. You shot up and bolted over the door and began running through the castle. All the pent up energy you’d accumulated throughout the day was bursting out of you as you rushed out to go wait by the main gate. You didn’t want to actually talk to them, aside from Hange, most soldiers weren’t very chatty upon their return, rightfully so. So you weren’t entirely sure how you’d go about checking up on everyone without being annoying. Eventually, you settled on waiting by a pillar. When you spot Hange, you’d pull them from the crowd, and ask them how it went. So that’s what you did. You hid yourself behind the tall stone pillar, peeking out from behind it. You squinted your eyes. You couldn’t see them at all. Come on, where are they? You thought, chewing your lip pensively. As you scanned the crowd, you suddenly felt someone grab your sides from behind, and you jumped about a foot into the air, before quickly turning around. You were met with Hange grinning at you, and Moblit standing to their left, shooting you an apologetic look.

You shot a look back to the crowd, and then back to the, jaw dropped open.“H-How did you-”

“You’re not slick you know. Everyone could totally see you.”

“I wasn’t trying to- Well- ”

You didn’t know where you were going with that, so you clamped your mouth shut. You looked back at them, and you realized something. They were standing right in front of you. They weren’t corpses left behind, or being carried on the wagon. There was no one else standing in front of you, telling you with an averted gaze that they didn’t make it. They were right here. Tears began forming in your eyes.

“Oh dear! You’re crying? What’s been up with you recently? Are you going through puberty again?” they chuckled.

“Hange, don’t tease her.” Moblit scolded lightly, before turning back to you, and giving you a kind, but tired smile. He reached over and gently pat your head. “Don’t worry, we’re back.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw tightly to prevent your entire face from trembling.

“Ah, you're just like a little kid.” they smiled pulling you in for a hug. You weren’t big on physical affection, but as they held you, you found yourself craving their touch, and furrowed yourself deeper into their embrace, closing your eyes. A strange warm feeling was blossoming in your chest. It was lovely.

Suddenly you felt another warm feeling in your body, but this wasn’t the feeling of love. It was the feeling of embarrassment. That didn’t take long. You’d come over blubbering like a baby, and had collapsed into their arms. They were probably tired from the expedition, and you were just giving them more to worry about. At once, you felt very uncomfortable. You slowly pulled yourself from their arms and stood, back straight, clearing your throat.

“Sorry. Maybe I am going through puberty again. That would explain a lot.” you chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it.” they said gently. You nodded bashfully. ”How did it go?” you asked.

“Well, we did fine.” they said, turning back to Moblit. “But the rain was really horrible. That, in combination with the new formations we weren’t as familiar with... resulted in a lot of us getting separated. We were fine, but I don’t know about everyone else.” they said, frowning.

“At the very least, we're all accounted for. No one's missing.” Moblit chimed in.

“I see. Well, I’m glad you two are okay.” you said, softly. “Really glad.”

“We could tell.” they teased. You shot them an annoyed look, and cleared your throat.

“By the way, have you seen Levi’s squad at all?” you asked, turning to face Moblit. He looked up, thinking.

“I haven’t. Because we got separated, we ended up turning back at different times. I think we were the last group.” He said, with a shrug. “But they should be back in their barracks at this point, if you want to go check up on them.”

You fiddled with your dress, and shot your eyes down to your feet. You were finally about to find out what happened to them. It was strange. As much as you wanted to rush over and check on them, the ever looming possibility of some of them not being there also made you want to lock yourself away in your room and never come out. But you were going to have to find out eventually, and waiting if you waited any longer you might die from the stress.

“Thank you, Moblit.”

“Mhm.”

You said your goodbyes and thank yous to the two of them, and headed to the barracks. Once you reached the entrance gate, you stopped. The anxiety brewing in your chest left your skin feeling prickly. You clenched your fists. You can do this.

You took a deep breath and began a skittish walk to the barracks, until you found yourself at their room, your hand hovering over the door, preparing to knock. But your hand never moved. You stood frozen, the world still around you, all while your mind was screaming at you to take action. Just do it. Then, you felt someone tap on your shoulder, abruptly pulling you from your trance. You whipped your head back. Levi stood behind you, eyes downcast and sullen. Upon seeing his expression, you felt your nerves go through the roof. He’s alone, you noted, chewing your lip. No, no, that doesn’t mean anything. They might still be at the stables. Isabel really loved that horse. During your writing lessons, she’d often get distracted, and ever since she was assigned that horse, it’s all she would talk about, gushing about the animal until you gently reminded her why she was with you. You swallowed, before mustering out something to say.

“H-how did the expedition go? I heard you guys got separated.”

He said nothing. His silence brought an inescapable feeling of dread washing over your body. You hadn’t wanted to ask this right from get go. But you couldn’t keep it in.

“Where are Isabel and Furlan?” you asked, quietly. He flicked his gaze back to look at you, eyes widening, before casting his eyes back down to the floor.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You knew exactly what that look meant. You’d seen it countless times. You took a shaking breath, and tears began dripping out of your eyes. They’d died out there. And they’d died in the most horrendous way possible. They had so much life in them, and it had been torn away. Their last moments had been filled with absolute terror. You brought your hands to cover your face. You thought you could prepare yourself mentally for bad news. How naive. Isabel was so young, and she had barely set out to see the world. Furlan, he definitely had feelings for you. It was something you chose to ignore because you weren’t sure how to deal with it. But, could you have been happy together? Could you have really loved each other? Were all your potential lovers simply doomed to die? These questions felt all too familiar.

But you were not the one hurting the most right now.

You slowly pulled your face from your hands to look at Levi. He looked devastated. His jaw was clenched stiffly shut, eyes dead set on his shoes, He couldn’t meet your eye. Your heart ached at the sight, but you couldn’t think of anything you could do to help him. Nothing you could say could alleviate the pain, and even if it could, you didn’t know that you had the strength in you to say it. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, and finally said something.

“Levi, I am so sorry.” you murmured.

You reached out your arms, and pulled him into your chest. Maybe you should’ve asked first, but you didn’t know if you could successfully get any words out without beginning to cry. So you just held him in your arms. You held your breath. He felt stiff, but eventually, you felt him relax in your arms, and you let out a quivering breath as you exhaled. Your eyes widened as you felt his arms slowly reach up behind your back, returning the embrace.

The two of you held each other. Your shaky breaths had turned into a torrent of quiet sobs as you held him in your arms. Your mind raced over what you could’ve done to prevent this outcome, but you came up with nothing. You thought reaching this conclusion would provide you with some sense of acceptance, but it only deepened the sorrow in your heart. There was absolutely nothing you could’ve done to prevent this, and that was the most frustrating thing in the world. How ironic, you’d reached out to comfort him, but you were the only one crying. After a while, you felt something land on your head, but you dismissed it. But then you felt another, then another, so you decided to pull away and look up at the sky. It was raining again. Fucking great.

“What the hell is up with the weather today?” you sniffled. “It’s totally erratic.” you said, looking back down to meet his eyes.

They looked glassy now, but you decided not to bring it up. He didn’t say anything. Maybe he just wanted to be left by himself, you would understand if he did. But before you left him on his own, you wanted to reach out one last time. Maybe some company would comfort him before he returned to his room, alone. Should I offer him some tea? You shivered, rubbing your arms. It was freezing. Might as well try it.

“W-would you want to grab some tea before you went to sleep?”

“Hold on.”

You raised your brow as he walked into his room, shutting the door in your face, and he soon came out, throwing something at you. You flinched as you aimlessly grabbed at the air, to catch whatever he threw at you, and you realized it was a piece of clothing, you held it up, and saw it was the same jacket he'd been wearing the first time you’d met. You gave him a confused look.

“A thin sundress doesn’t do much for the rain.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right.” you said, shimmying your arms into the sleeves. Wasn’t quite your size, but it’d do.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

The two of you began walking over to the castle in silence. Thankfully, but not unsurprisingly, there were no annoying guards to pester you on your way there. The heaviness and guilt in your heart hadn’t wavered, but you’d gotten out all your tears, or at least the tears you were willing to spill in front of other people. You soon arrived in the kitchen, and you immediately set to make the tea. Usually the silence would be unbearable, but both of you had far too much on your mind to even notice. Besides, you hadn’t invited him to chat, you only wanted to keep him from being alone for the rest of the evening. You filled the pot with water, placed it on the stove and sat down next to Levi at the table. You were staring out blankly into the air in front of you until you felt him tap on your shoulder, and you turned to his lips.

“How do you deal with this?”

You stopped for a moment to think about how to answer. You probably weren’t the person to ask.

“As I think you noticed a couple days ago, not in the best ways.”

“...How aren’t you angry?”

“I was, I-I mean, I still am, to be honest. The only thing that really changed is that I grew tired...It’s tiring being so angry every single day, “ you paused. “I don’t know if I told you this, or maybe Hange mentioned it, the blabbermouth they are, but during my recovery days, I was very rowdy… I feel so bad for those poor nurses. I had multiple broken ribs, some internal bleeding in my stomach, and to top it all off, I couldn’t hear a thing, but every day, I still tried to sneak out of the hospital, I hated being confined to bed.” you explained, fiddling your fingers together. “This sort of behavior only grew when they told me that more likely than not I wouldn’t be able to serve. I felt like I had to prove my competence to them, so I was sneaking off to the training fields at night. Eventually, they had to restrain me to my bed.”

“Doesn’t sound like you.”

“I’ve changed quite a bit since then, probably for the better. But anyways, about your question, eventually, I realized that my anger had no real direction. I was mad at myself, for not being quick enough. I was mad at Marla, for not listening to our Captain's orders, I was mad at my Captain, for picking us to go back and kill that crazy abnormal, and I was mad at the titans. I even attacked Hange at one point. I quickly lost, considering it took all I had to stand properly.” you said, feeling your face heating up at the memory. “But there was nothing I could do. So eventually my anger waned off, and was replaced with self loathing.”

You stopped to think, staring mindlessly at your hands, folded neatly on your lap.

“But it’s still there, I know that much… but you know, it’s not all bad. I’ve realized that since then the only thing I can do is grow for the better. I only slip when I allow myself to, and that’s fine as long as I can recover the next day.. And I still have people that care about me.” you noted. The faces of Hange and Moblit flashed through your mind. “...And the ones that are no longer here to care for me, I have to act right for them. I don’t want them to be disappointed or sad as they look down on me. I have to live on properly for them.”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, and the heavy feeling in your chest reappeared.

“I-I don’t know if any of that was helpful...but that’s my experience with it.”

You looked back to face him. He looked at you with distant eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he did, his eyes flicked over to the stove behind you, and he shut his mouth, pointed a finger at it.

“It’s boiling.”

“O-oh okay. I’ll get that.” you said, leaping off from your seat to the stove. You set it down on the counter to allow it to cool, and opened the cabinet, reaching in for the tea cans.

“Green or black?”

“Green, please.”

You nodded, and set some cups out to steep, before placing yourself back on the seat next to him.

“I’m going to continue on the expeditions.”

You nodded.

“I don’t know what's in store for me in the future, but I’ve decided on one thing. I’m not going to live the rest of my life in regret of this decision.” He swallowed, clasping his hands tightly in front of him. “I’m going to live on, dedicating my whole life to this cause.”

You stared at him. What he was saying sounded noble, but you couldn’t help but be worried. It somehow seemed like a self destructive mindset. You took a long sip from your tea, and stared down into the glistening liquid. You were scared. You’d told him that things got better, but how much of that did you actually believe yourself? It took every ounce of your power not to burst into tears where you sat and cry for hours. You felt a lump in your throat, and swallowed.

“It’s most important to live for yourself. Just remember that.” you said, softly.

“You too.”

“Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be happy just because of the wishes of others. You should be happy because you are.”

You blinked at him, before staring back into your mug.

“I guess I was being sort of hypocritical, huh?”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, slowly sipping away at your tea, until eventually, your cups were empty. You reached into your pocket for your watch. It was late now. You turned back to face him.

“We should probably get out of here.” you said, pulling yourself up from the chair. You reached out your hand. “I’ll take your cup.” you offered. He took one last, long sip before placing the cup in your hand, and getting himself up. You placed them gingerly in the sink, and the two of you left the kitchen. You walked in silence down the hallway, until you reached the point where you had to separate.

“Well, I need to get going.” you said. He didn’t say anything in response. You chewed your lip, unsure if you should say more, or just leave. Eventually, you placed your hand on his shoulder, giving him a weary smile.

“Get some rest, Levi.” you told him.

“Thank you for talking with me.”

“Of course.”

You began walking in the opposite direction, back to your room. As you pulled open the entrance to the next hallway, you shot a glance behind your shoulder. He was gone. You continued through the castle to your room. You closed your door delicately behind you, and just stood there for a moment. It was silent. Well, it always was, for the most part, aside from the slight ringing that existed in your ears, and the dull hum that you could sometimes pick up if someone spoke to you. But this felt different. A strange quietness overcame you, the world around you seemingly stagnant. It sent a strange prickling feeling that ran all the way up from your toes to the back of your neck and made you shudder.

You slowly walked over to your bed, and shimmied yourself into the covers. The tears you’d been holding in almost immediately came pouring down your cheeks. But these tears were different than the thousands you’d shed before. They weren’t tears of anger, or of guilt, all you felt was genuine sorrow. And it was the most painful thing you’d ever experienced. All of the emotion you’d repressed over the last year came spilling out all at once. You didn’t just cry for Isabel and Furlan, but for Marla as well. It was like she’d died all over again, but this time, you didn’t have any anger or resentment left to disguise it. You let out a torrent of choked sobs, and you shoved your messy face into your pillow, a vain attempt to contain it all. The heavy feeling in your chest felt like it would never go away, all you could do was cry.

Eventually, you stood up to grab some tissue to wipe the sticky snot and hot tears from your face. As you were about to get back in bed, tears already rolling down your cheeks, you gazed out into the dark night from your window. The sky was clear of clouds, the bright moon illuminating the night. Its soft light entered your room, giving everything a slight glow. Waning gibbous, you thought, as you stared out into the night. You reached over and opened the window, a cool breeze entered the room, and you leaned up against the window.

Rest well, you guys.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Levi walked down the empty corridors. He had been unsure whether to take her up on her offer, but he was glad that he had. It had given him something to think about, as opposed to just spending the rest of his evening in a lonely room, alone with his own thoughts. He’d learned more about her, too. When he reached the door that led to the exit, his hand hovered over the handle. Do I want to go back to my room yet? He slowly began walking back down the hall. He walked aimlessly around the castle, until he found himself in the same place he had the last time he’d done this, the stairway to the tower. He stared at the entrance, and took a slow step forward. Just as he was about to enter, he hesitated. Did he really want to go in there right now? Relive through the memories? But before he knew it, he was quickly walking up the narrow staircase, pushing the door open.

📷

The cool night air immediately hit his face. He slowly walked over to the wall, and perched himself on the edge. The sky was clear of clouds, unlike the last time he was here. The moon’s light shone brilliantly on him. He gazed up into the sky in wonder. The stars were more visible this time around, scattered about as if a large hand had carelessly tossed the sparkling lights into the dark sky.

Inevitably, the memory of them sitting by his side came to his mind. The way Isabel had nearly fallen off the wall after jumping from the excitement of seeing a constellation she recognized, the way it had nearly given Furlan a heart attack from the shock.

“You need to believe in us!”

Levi sighed, and pulled his head into the palms of his hands. A tear finally fell down his cheek.

I’m so sorry, you guys.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi aot #snk levi #levi attack on titan #levi #hurt #aot hange #hange zoë #hange zoe #hange #attack on titan #aot #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #erwin smith #fluff #angst

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samwrights · 4 years

Text

Two Little Lines Pt. 2

More babies!! WOW I’M SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO MAKE A WHOLE ASS FIC OUT OF FUKATUCHI.

Er, warning? Implied alcoholism in Semi’s.

Terushima;

To say that you and Terushima lived a perfect life together would be an outright lie.

Sure, the two of you had been together since your guys’ third year of high school and you have always found a way to make the relationship work.

But you were so tired.

So tired of acting more like his mother than his girlfriend of the last four years. He hardly helped around the apartment, never cooked a meal, and if he was home and not passed out, he’d ditch you to go hang out with his friends.

It just didn’t feel like a relationship anymore; it felt like you were roommates who slept in the same bed.

And Terushima Yūji was entirely oblivious to the fact.

To say that it broke your heart would be an understatement.

But even so, you held onto the hope that you and Teru would make this all work and everything would go back to the way it used to be.

Hope in the form of crying out the anguish in your soul every night as you went to bed.

You ain’t slick though, but Terushima just doesn’t know what to do—

he’s terrified to confront you about this because what if you finally realize that he’s really just a piece of shit and you should have left years ago?

I love Terushima but lowkey I feel like he’s toxic 💀

But he tries—tries in the form of actually talking about topics that have real substance for the first time in months.

It actually goes rather well!

Too well.

It was nice to have your boyfriend back, even if temporarily.

To have human, physical contact with him was needed.

But also landed you in your current predicament—sitting on your bathroom floor, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test you felt you needed to buy earlier.

You were tired—way more than usual lately. The morning sickness, however, was what prompted you.

It was currently 2am. Yūji would be home soon from wherever he decided to go to, and the timer on your phone goes off signaling for you to check.

Not that you needed nor wanted the confirmation, but the two little lines were the nail in the coffin.

Lmaofuck.

“[name]?” Terushima calls out from the hallway. He must’ve noticed you weren’t in bed despite the late hour.

Hearing his voice brought tears to your eyes and you wished you could lie and say they were from joy.

The sobs are what captures his attention, prompting him to barge into the bathroom. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything; you’re afraid you’ll say everything you’d been harboring inside for years. Instead, you point to the pregnancy test with a shaky finger.

“Wha—oh. Oh!” Aside from the three syllables that left his lips, he had no idea what else to say.

Because he knows.

Terushima knows that things haven’t been going all that great and the both of you just loved each other too much to let the other go.

“I don’t know what to do, Yūji.” Your voice is devoid of all emotion, reflecting the emptiness you’d been feeling for so long.

“The choice is yours, always. But...” Terushima comes to sit with you on the tiled floor, tugging at your cheek so that you can look at him. “This is my sign, I guess, that I have to be better. We aren’t kids anymore, shit we could be having a kid—I can’t just do whatever the hell I want.”

“You shouldn’t have been in the first place,” you seeth, “Yūji, we’ve been in a partnership since high school.”

“And you’ve been carrying the team.” At least he acknowledges it. “Now you’re literally carrying the team.”

“Dude,” you smack his arm lightly, not missing his joke. “Be serious.”

“I am. I mean it. I don’t want to lose you, [name], so I’m going to try. I want to be better for you, for both of you.”

Semi;

Was Semi Eita perfect? No.

Did you need him to be perfect? Also no.

But for the last three years, there had always been some kind of disconnect between you two regarding what you wanted for the future.

You both were incredibly supportive of each other’s respective paths—shit, you were Semi’s biggest fan when it came to his music.

But considering he often had to travel, he just couldn’t see eye to eye with you and your need for stable roots.

What was the point of spending money on a house when your two bedroom apartment suited you just fine?

He did concede to the two of you getting a dog, so that was nice at least.

But above all, you wanted to be a family. Married, kids, a yard—the whole package. He knew this, but always had an excuse.

“My career is just taking off. If we get married, I don’t want to abandon either of you—I want to be able to dedicate the proper time to both of you.” Okay, fair.

“We don’t have enough saved for a house yet.” Also fair.

“Being a parent is a full time job.” He had valid points to everything, but that did little to quell your desires.

But for Semi, you were willing to make some sacrifices.

Kinda.

However, Semi doesn’t notice the subtle changes that have come from you.

You’re working more, home less, and if you were home, you’d already have had dinner and hanging out in the bathtub while chugging a bottle of wine.

At first, Eita just thinks that you’ve had a rough day at work or something and he gives you your space.

But one bottle turns into four, and he’s had to carry you out of the tub more than once or twice.

“Babe, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Semi had left work early one day just to make sure he caught you before you started your evening ritual.

“Nothing’s wrong, Eita!” But he could hear the forced optimism along with the way your grin didn’t make your cheekbones close your eyes at the corner like they always did.

“[name], please. Don’t shut me out.” Have you ever heard Semi Eita beg? No? That’s cause it never happens.

“I swear, I’m fine! Just had—“

“A hard day at work, I know. I don’t doubt that but you’re avoiding me, babe. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You don’t know how to answer without being selfish. You know what Semi wants out of life and you had comes to terms with it. So why couldn’t you just let it go?

“I-I just...need time. To come to terms with the fact that we want different things in life.” If Semi was a crier, he would have right then and there. Watching the air leave your lungs in broken bubbles coming up as hiccups as you cried broke his heart.

“Do we? I just want you.”

For the first time in months, you didn’t pick up a bottle. After having dinner together, you finally got to be in the comfort of your loving, life partner.

Fast forward to present day—two months later you still indulge yourself in one glass of wine but no more bottles in the bathtub.

Semi’s thankful af for that 💀 even it wasn’t the ideal recovery

But he notices you’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to go throw up, and he’s starting to wonder if there were days you were sneaking them in.

“Eita, I swear I stopped doing that.” He’s giving you benefit of the doubt, trying to come up with other potential culprits.

There were days when you would PMS bad enough to make you sick.

But never for more than a few days—you were entering week 2.

“I’m calling the doctor,” he declares after you’d hurled for the third time that day. When he sees your hesitance, he adds, “I don’t think this is normal withdrawal. You never quit cold turkey, so I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

Semi Eita’s intuition is both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing, in the sense that he was 100% right in regards to you needing to see a doctor.

Curse, because the two of you found out that you were pregnant. And while the two of you were doing much better than you were a few months ago, the “talk” about your future had never resurfaced.

“So, what are we going to do, Eita?”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to consolidate my studio to make room for a nursery and I’ll probably have to start working from home part time at least to help you out—“

“Wait, what?” Why did he make it sound like you were keeping the baby?

“Well I’m not gonna leave you to do this alone, [name]. It’s my kid too.”

“Semi-Semi, you don’t want kids.”

“Yeah, but I want you.” He sounds so sure, so confident, that you aren’t even sure if the man beside you is really your boyfriend. “And by association, that includes our baby.”

Futakuchi;

Oh my god.

Why—or rather how in the fuck did this happen to you?

Well, you know how it happened. You did have sex education when you were in high school, after all.

But you and Fukatuchi always used condoms—there was no room for negotiation on that.

Part of you wishes you would have broken off this hook up arrangement a long time ago

But you know you’re lying to yourself because the two of you just meshed so well.

Almost like a real couple, but you knew that a relationship was the last thing he wanted.

And now, you sat on your bathroom floor with your head buried on your knees after throwing the pregnancy test that revealed two little lines of positivity.

Well, fuck.

You start dodging his 2am calls, passing it off as you had a paper or a lab that you desperately needing to finish.

Kenji isn’t buying it. He knows you’re always on top of your schoolwork.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Comes a text in broad daylight—something comepletely atypical of Futakuchi.

Avoiding turns into ignoring as you’re almost three months pregnant.

To which he calls out with another text send before booty call hours. “Alright, this is getting ridiculous. Whoever you’re fucking now can’t be better than me. Just answer me and I’ll prove it.”

Blocked.

Another weak goes by and, surprisingly, your pregnancy has been relatively smooth. Even if it did suck going through it alone.

A part of you missed Futakuchi. Not that you’d ever tell him that. But you tried to tell yourself you missed the D and nothing else.

But you missed the way he’d hold you overnight, occasionally brushing hair out of your face almost endearingly. You missed the warmth, the lust fueled kisses that you swore were almost loving.

Only to remember he was always gone before you woke up. He was only a booty call, and you had to remind yourself of that.

So why the fuck was he at your doorstep in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday?

“Why the fuck did you block me?” He snarls, barreling his way into your apartment. You were so thankful that you were wearing an oversized hoodie and that you weren’t showing that much yet. .

“Dude, get out. Obviously, I blocked you for a reason.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to get out of this so easily. You would have told me if you started seeing someone else—“ his wording slips, he knows it, but Futakuchi can’t bring himself to fix the statement.

“We weren’t seeing each other in the first place!” The words sting him like rubbing alcohol on a fresh wound.

You try to usher him out of the apartment but, thanks to you being 16 weeks along and much weaker than him, your efforts are futile.

“You’re so cute when you play hard to get.” He retorts, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you off the ground to carry you both out of the door way.

But as soon as he does, you’re immediately prying yourself away—fearful that he can feel your hardening belly. Fighting him off, however, seemed to make him squeeze harder. “Kenji, let me go! Fuck!”

He notices the use of his first name. He notices the flailing. But most of all, he noticed that your body felt different, even underneath the plush cloth of your hoodie.

He lets you go, unceremoniously dropping you into the ground out of shock because he finally is putting the pieces together. “You’re pregnant?”

“Get out, Kenji.”

“So you didn’t wanna see me because you’re pregnant? I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand the logic here,” his tone is snarky, painted with a vicious bite, “unless you were hooking up with someone else at the same time is me, there was no reason for you to keep this from me.”

But he knew that you weren’t. He knew by the way you’d clutch at his chest lovingly after sex that part of you longed for a real relationship with him.

And by the way it took everything in him to not stay through the morning, Kenji knew that somewhere along the lines, he wanted it too.

And he planned on telling you the last time he called, just before you started avoiding him.

“There was only you.” You answer quietly to the implied question.

“So, it’s mine.” He states bluntly. Losing your voice, you only nod. “You know,” he starts again slowly after you’ve both nodded off to a silent lull, “I started texting you in the middle of the day because I didn’t want you to think it was just about sex anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I actually wanted to give us a try, but I wasn’t sure if you’d break things off if you didn’t want to move forward, and I didn’t wanna risk finding out.”

“And now, instead, you’re finding out that you’re going to be a dad.”

💀💀💀 I-

Haikyuu!! Tag List - Let me know if you’d like to be added!

@hihiq @dreamyjaems @tamcitrus

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narrysgolden · 3 years

Text

So uh, hi, I’m not a writer but I do occasionally (used to) write and some lovely lovely person brought that to my attention today! They mentioned a totally different fic I was writing and forgot about (oops) but reminded me I wrote Part 3 of this ficlet ages ago and never posted it SO here’s that now. Happy Holidays to you all ☺️

Private Nights - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

They were both much more quiet now than they had been the whole flight. Thoughts, and a hangover, swimming around in their heads. Niall was debating in his head whether he was hoping to not have to see Harry again this weekend, or was hoping to run into him again. He was leaning more towards the latter.

With an ounce of liquid courage left, he decided to ask anyways, just out of curiosity. “Hey where are you staying tonight?”

Harry’s face went blank. He closed his eyes, lowered his head into his hands and whispered shit.

“I think….I don’t think I actually have a place to stay.” He said with a chuckle, an attempt to not scream. In years past Harry would just stay at his house, but since he sold his LA home he had been staying with Jeff. Now that Jeff and his wife are out of the country, Harry not thinking to bring his spare key, that’s not an option either. Surely he could call up another friend, pop into a hotel or something. “Forgot I don’t live here anymore and usually I’d just go to Jeff’s but, “second honeymoon.” He shrugged.

Without thinking Niall blurted out “you can stay at mine” before realizing what he said. “I mean got a spare room and all, not too far from tomorrow’s venue.”

“Oh I don’t want to be a bother, can just call up a friend, get a hotel for a change or summat.”

A friend? Did he not consider me a friend? Niall thought. That kind of hurt but he tried not to take it personally. Would probably be awkward to have Harry sleepover anyways. “Uh yeah sure, sure. I’ll be there if you uh, need anything or whatever.” Now Niall was being awkward, tripping over his words and trying to play it cool.

“’course, thanks Niall.” Harry pat him on the shoulder with a soft smile as he peeled himself off the leather seat.

The boys parted ways after the flight, engaging in a much less awkward hug than the first one, and hopping into separate cars. As Niall went back to his LA home, Harry was feeling out of sorts. Even with his countless contacts in the area, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do and had the driver drop him off at the Beachwood Café. Out of all the places in LA, this it felt most like a home away from home. He frequented the dainty café every time he was in town, knew the workers by name and they were always considerate of his privacy.

After greeting the employees behind the counter and ordering his usual, he sat himself in the back corner booth, shoving his Gucci bag underneath the table and pulling out his book. He had brought Norwegian Wood with him, grabbing it last minute from his shelf as a way to keep himself busy on the long flight. Even though he’d already read the book, twice, it was his favorite and impossible to put down. In an attempt to clear his mind, he began reading, for the third time, sipping on his coffee in an attempt to beat the already setting in jetlag.

When he woke up the room was half lit with soft sounds of mugs clattering together. He jolted his head up with a gasp, forgetting where he was and searching his surroundings. Harry had gotten so engrossed in his book he completely lost track of time….and consciousness. Jetlag hit hard and despite his second cup of coffee, he dozed off through chapter nine and slumped back in the booth. A slight bit of panic set in as he frantically looked at his phone, not knowing what time or even day it was at this point.

9:45pm

The café closed in 15 minutes. Harry quickly shuffled out of the booth, grabbing his stuff and swiftly placing his dirty dishes on the counter. “So sorry for hogging up the booth all day, keeping you here” he quietly apologized to the employee, voice coming out hoarse from sleep.

As he darted out the door he really started to realize he has nowhere to stay tonight. It was nearly 10pm on a Sunday and he’d feel bad for bothering anyone for a place to crash at this hour. He quickly remembered Niall’s offer earlier, along with how much of a dick he probably sounded for so quickly turning it down. In his sleepy haze he decided to just fuck it and call Niall up anyways.

Three calls later. No answer. Harry would really start to feel like a needy boyfriend if he called again. And fuck all if he remembers how to get to Niall’s house, let alone his address. Unless…

Harry unlocks his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and clicks on Niall’s name. And sure enough, right under the address bar is Niall’s street, number and all. Even after all these years, Harry couldn’t bare to delete Niall’s number or any of his information, and he’s thanking God now that he didn’t.

While in the Uber on the way to Niall’s he starts to become really anxious. This isn’t creepy right, just showing up at his house? I mean it’s Niall and he offered anyways. Right?

The car pulls up to the soft gray home, light coming through a couple windows with Niall’s car parked in the driveway. Thankfully Niall’s gate code was still programmed into his phone as well, so he could at least get past the fence without looking like an awkward stalker who shouldn’t be at this residence in the first place.

With all signs that Niall is home and another few phone calls going unanswered, Harry assumes Niall must have fallen asleep early too. He makes his way up to the front door and knocks, then rings the doorbell, then the buzzer and repeats the three for what feels like 30 minutes before giving up. He doesn’t want to yell or cause a disturbance in his neighborhood at now 11pm. So he sits down on the stoop, back up against the door, jetlag already taking over again.

Niall jolts awake with a weird feeling. All the lights are on, his damn shoes are still on and he’s very disoriented at this point, not intending on passing out so early in the day. He goes to check his phone, 11:30pm, and notices the 6 missed called from Harry. Immediate panic shoots through his body. Is something wrong? Did he need me? Oh god I wonder where he is. Am I overreacting?

Despite his hesitation, he decides to just call Harry back. No answer. So he calls again. After the fourth ring with no answer is when Niall really starts to panic. Without thinking he jumps up, grabs his keys from the counter and heads for the door. He flings the front door open so fast he barely has time to process the body thumping at his feet.

Harry is shocked out of his slumber as he flies back and his head smacks down on Niall’s feet.

“Jesus, fuck! Harry what the fuck!?”

Harry rolls over with a loud groan of pain and confusion. “Oh my god” he grunts.

“Harry WHAT the hell” Niall yells.

As Harry continues to writhe around on the stoop, Niall’s demeanor changed. “Har-Harry are you okay? C’mere”. He reached down to gently place his hand under Harry’s head and help him sit up, worried that he smacked his head too hard. Harry finally squints his eyes open to look up at Niall. He doesn’t know if it’s the jet lag delirium or the fact that he banged his head half on Niall’s foot and half on concrete, but he smiles up at the Irishman with a dopey grin and dimple on full display. “Hi.”

Niall is confused but can’t help smiling back. After a moment of innocent affection, Niall’s concern creeps back in. “Are you okay? Really? Need some ice?” Harry’s smile turns into a frown as he remembers his throbbing head and nods, taking Niall’s hands to help him up. In full disclosure, Harry is a total baby when it comes to being sick or hurt. He will take all the love and care that anyone is willing to give him and he will milk that shit like it’s his job. Niall knows, Niall kind of loves it, and Niall acts just like the caretaker Harry wants. “C’mon baker boy” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist to lead him inside.

The name gets Harry to chuckle, lightening the mood. “Baker boy? Really? It’s been nearly 10 years Niall.”

“And yet you still talk about bread, Harold.”

For those few moments it’s like Niall and Harry we’re back in 2015. It felt different than the plane ride earlier which was fueled by alcohol. This time, the comfort was fueled by vulnerability. Something they shared closely between each other, years ago.

Harry laid down on the couch, sinking into the big plushie cushions and trying really hard to block out the memory of what happened on this couch the night Niall moved in. The heated kissing, the touching, the clothes thrown about the kitchen. It was also the one and only time that Harry had stepped foot in this house, other than at this moment. Niall brought over a bag of ice, handing it to Harry along with a pillow to prop his head up. As his mind began to clear up, he decided to take a seat at the other end of the couch. He could feel emotions resurfacing that he wasn’t ready for and did not think was appropriate for the time.

Harry thanked Niall and laid back on the ice, wiggling uncomfortably as the cubes poked the back of his head, but he was grateful for the gesture. Neither of them said another word, sleep taking over both of them yet again after Niall had put the golf channel on the tv for some background noise. As Niall dozed off, he could hear Harry’s labored breathing. Through hooded eyes he took in the sight of Harry’s chocolate curls sticking to the melting ice bag. His lips slightly parted, looking plush but dry, in need of some chapstick. The way his skin was so clear and glowed under the light of the tv. He was just....so....pretty. And with that thought, Niall fell into a deep sleep as well.

Niall awoke to a heavy weight on his stomach and a tickle of hair on his arms. He squinted one eye open in the dim lighting of the room and moved just enough to get Harry’s attention. The lanky boy on top of him groaned a small “mm cold” before readjusting his head to now be on Niall’s crotch and curl his legs up next to him.

“D’you wanna go up to bed?” Niall mumbled. Harry nodded, continuing his “baby” act.

The two of them groaned as they got up, sore from the awkward couch positions and groggy from on and off sleep all day. Harry slung his bag over his shoulder as they trudged up the stairs, coming to the guest bedroom on the right. Niall stopped ahead of Harry. “Sheets are clean, bathrooms on the le—“

“Can I...” Harry began to interrupt. “My uh, my head still hurts.” It didn’t. But Harry didn’t have another excuse to sleep with Niall and he knew Niall wouldn’t deny him the comfort he really needed right now.

“Uh yeah, sure, my rooms down thi—“

“Mhmm I remember” Harry interrupted again with a smug tone. Niall just rolled his eyes and continued on down the echoey hall. With each step Niall began to strip off another article of clothing, desperate to be comfortable in his own bed again and not caring that Harry was right behind him,

“Eager are we?” Harry remarked, watching closely each piece of fabric fall to the floor.

“Oh shut up.” Niall jabbed back, sprinting the last few steps and catapulting himself onto the bed. His head fell back, getting engulfed in the mountain of pillows stacked at the headboard.

“Jesus, Niall. Preparing for a pillow fight or something?”

Niall let out a cackle, pick up the pillow closest to him and chucked it in Harry’s direction. ”Maybe.”

Harry caught the pillow with impressive accuracy and threw it straight back, jumping on the end of the bed and launching Niall’s legs in the air. The two boys burst into a fit of laughter, lazily tossing pillows at each other in the process.

The laughter died down and their eyes began to droop again, but neither of them wanted to sleep another minute.

#narry fic #Niall horan #harry styles #private nights fic #private nights #part 3 #narry #fanfic

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simplysoriya · 4 years

Text

The Eternal Serpent

{Prologue, 1, 2, 3, interlude, 4, 5}

Chapter 6: The Temple

In deep ocean, currents were powerful and always in motion just above the surface. Vast and endless bodies of water pushed themselves, unchanging, in the direction that they always had. There was something ancient and unyielding about the way nature operated. Changed by nothing but itself. Songs were written about the sea in ways men speak of lovers, both soothing enough that every sailor kept it close to their heart and all fiercely respected it borne of fear.

Sailors wrote songs about the sea as if they were lovers. The gentle embrace and feeling of freedom that came with the life of wind in their hair and the sun on the horizon. But they also spun tales of the harsh and unforgiving ocean and the fury of storms that had swallowed up so many of their kind, instilling both fear and respect.

Such was the duality of the ocean.

But below? There was calm and serene in the gentle embrace of salt water that wrapped all that dare to plunge in. Leaving them surrounded from head to toe aimlessly floating amongst the endless miles of nothing but sea.

Each paddle taken downward was colder than the last. The vibrant sun with both light and warmth strangled by the ever encroaching sea. Leaving the seafloor blotched with stretches of white sands and underwater flora right along with spanning pits of empty black trenches where the light dare not tread.

It was far from the sunny beaches of Stranglethorn or the temperate shorelines of Tanaris…

Pressure began to wrack at her muscles producing involuntary contractions and tension as she braved the large trench that seemed to taper off into oblivion. Her lungs began begging for air needily with each second spent below the waves. But still she persisted deeper down the underwater cliff face with nothing but stubborn determination and a sense of hope.

After all, the alternative was a boat full of pirates still waiting for her up above. Undoubtedly already preparing to pursue her.

Running parallel to the jagged rock wall that led to the dark depths below light became scarce. Soriya remembered the reading light she had snagged from the goblin Quartermaster before. Fishing into her pocket to pull the small enchanted stone free, holding it in her palm with a gentle squeeze before a soft yellow light leaked from between her fingers.

It wasn’t much but it was enough to light her way as she explored down into the deeps further and further still.

Scrolling over the expanses of rocks was a daunting task with a limited window. Without diving gear or an extra tank of oxygen only gave her so much time to find the temple she sought. But it was all she had as others threatened to use the legend to their own ends and snatch the find from right under her. She couldn’t just accept defeat after coming so far, after doing so much, after investing so much of her life into finding it…

It was now or never.

It wasn’t until that dull light scanned over a smoother stone then the rest that hope was reignited fervently. A smooth banner rested far too perfect for it to be made from the ocean itself. Swimming down she investigated further only to find an old and broken down statue, full of pores and beaten by the passage of time spent underwater. But there was no mistaking the markings of a Pandarian cloud serpent.

She had finally found it; The Temple of the Eternal Serpent.

The crawling swim through the Temples rocky, dilapidated, and dark entrance seemed to go on forever. She thought her lungs would explode in her chest as anxiety began to wrack at her mind. It hadn’t even crossed her mind, despite its oceanic grave, that the whole temple may be underwater. A severe misstep in her plan that only darkened her thoughts as she desperately continued, knowing full well that she wouldn’t make it to the surface in time to replenish her air supply.

In the darkness, however, there was a glimmer of hope as the tunnel narrowed and led upward. Leaving a shimmering ripple of light against the surface of the water. Swiftly Soriya swam toward salvation as her lungs bucked and bubbles of the last of her air escaped her mouth making her chest heave and spasm.

A deep and needful gasp for breath immediately followed as the young monk resurfaced in the Temples entrance with a splash. Relenting to lay on the stone plateau sprawled out as half of her body remained beneath the water. Coughing and sputtering as she wheezed in air enough to fill her chest. It was like the whole world went black for just a moment as she desperately tried to normalize her breathing.

Eventually, once she felt well enough, Soriya squared her arms with her shoulders and lifted herself out from the pool that almost was her end. Soon scrambling to the first available surface to rest her back on as she continued to recover.

Fending off the excitement over the find proved to be a downhill battle. Here she was, standing where legend was born. The setting of a story she had heard so long ago. A place so many others had sought out only to fail. But here she was. History was within her grasp, if only her lungs would get on the same page as her mind.

Still weary she pushed on, even as her body rebelled against the very thought. She was too close now, she had gone through too much to take a break.

Stubbornly she pressed on down the dark hallway made of ancient stone. She recognized the familiarity of it as large blocks lay on top of one another in a near perfect pattern, held up by smooth and rounded pillars that the Pandarian often use in their infrastructure. Nothing but her stolen reading light in hand to lend to the dim light that radiated from scriptures on the wall.

Her mind raced as it filled with what awaited her deeper within. The legend had spoke of three trials she would face once within these walls. One of strengths, one of will, and a third that was shrouded in mystery. Each having a unique challenge that was never expanded on in any text she had read.

Arriving at the first room in the temple Soriya was greeted with a wondrous, large and grand antechamber. Six pillars stood flanking the room arranged in a circle with a single plaque situated in the center of them. On the other side of the room, at first glance, was simply an imposing door sealed off with a large stone slab.

As she stepped into the chamber Soriya’s eyes lit with awe as she spun in stride to take in all the room had to offer. Murals of the Jade Serpent sprawled out over the smooth faces of the walls behind the pillars depicting Fe’lon, The Eternal Serpent, finding his home in the mountains and settling down. Presumably to this very spot.

Drifting closer to the murals, a stark reminder that she wasn’t alone in her pursuits hung heavy. As much as she wanted to soak in every aspect of the fabled temple there was hardly time with the threat of treasure seekers looming in the back of her mind.

A dejected sigh rumbled as she lowered her head toward the ground. Making her way to the center chamber, those teal eyes of hers longingly drifted toward the piece of pandarian culture that had been swallowed up by the sea and lost by time, whimsically staring as if she was saying goodbye to an old friend.

With a brush of her hand to clear the modest amount of dust that covered the plaque, Soriya scanned over their words for a clue that would lead her further into the temple. It was written in old pandarian, but she could still make out the words after a little study. Quietly she read aloud to herself,

“Steel yourself for these trials will test your very soul.”

“The first will challenge your resolve. Remove the obstacle from the doorway to proceed to the next trial.”

It wasn’t the most informative slab of stone in the world, that much was certain, but it did serve to add context to the chamber itself. The doorway she had spotted early came under increased scrutiny of those teal eyes. Leaving little doubt it was the way forward… it just came to dealing with the massive stone wall, easily twice her size, that blocked the way. Off to the side was a thick rope that was tethered to the ground in two spots. It ran up and into the ceiling right next to the wall she sought to move. Another clue that hid obscured behind pillars on her initial gaze.

Drawing nearer to the challenge Soriya studied the obstruction with knitted brows and a quizzical face. There was no way she could lift that on her own, not without help. It was clear the rope tied into things as well. The fact that these trials were meant to be faced by one person alone only deepend the mystery.

Regardless of the case she had to try something...

Both hands came to take a firm grasp of the rope off to the side. Straining herself as she tugged hard against the cord, and as fate would have it, the stone slab rose an inch for her efforts. A happy surprise that brought a smile to her face as she continued to heave away, lifting the door up inch by inch against the strain of her efforts.

Though the smooth sailing far too quick, for as soon as she let go of the rope the stone fell before crashing into the floor with a boom so loud it shook the chamber. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

Soriya tried again, taking the rope within her hands and tugging fistful by fistful with her weight against the rope. Desperately she looked for something to tether the rope to, another clamp on the floor. But she found no such luck. She took the rope as far into the room as she could. But the pillars remained too far for her to tie it to.

Frustration came in waves as the young monk let the door crash onto the floor once more. And once more it threatened to collapse the ancient structure down around her head.

There was one more idea she had left to try, though it was the most dangerous of the attempts thus far. With the swim down already offering up a hazard to her life, Soriya saw little choice if she wanted to progress further into the temple.

For the third time, she wrapped her hands around the thick rope with a vice like grip. Pulling to leverage the door open bit by bit as each handful drew her closer to the juncture. She got as close as she could while the slack of the rope piled up behind her, up until she could see the winding hallway leading to the next trial.

With a deep and clearing breath she tugged as hard as she could toward the door only to abandon the rope mid way through. Throwing herself into a roll right under the now falling slab of stone that would crush her in a heartbeat. Speed was of the essence as the young monk braced herself in a kneel, her head tucked down to run parallel with her shoulders, and her hands right above them, only to catch the stone and stop its momentum. Her hands enveloped in ivory energies of chi helped her keep the stone in place, but such an exponential explosion of her energy? So quickly? She couldn’t keep it up long as the stone continually reminded her with its weight, bearing down until she began to buckle under the pressure.

Inch by inch Soriya waddled her way toward her goal, so within reach now that all she had to do was fight against the burden that had already pushed her hands to meet her shoulders. It wasn’t until she was a step away that she scurried, sliding her bottom half out first as her hands pushed against the falling door, only serving to speed up her exit from under it.

SLAM!!

The door crashed down behind her in tandem with the relieved exhale that escaped her after she had cleared the obstacle.

“One trial down…” She muttered to herself as she continued deeper into the ancient temple.

#RP #canon #story #stories #temple of the eternal serpent #chapter 6 #Soriya #wra

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

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Goretober (Day 20)

Prompt: Torture

Fandom: Avatar

Pair: TyZula

Song Rec: The Gazette - Leech

Summary: Ozai ‘prepares’ Azula for what may happen if she gets captured by the enemy.

She doesn't comprehend how cruel it is. Azula thinks that it is normal. He says that he is doing it for her own good. That if she ever gets captured by the Water Tribe, she will know what to expect.

That she will be used to it and by extension, unaffected by it.

He has her pinned down, a guard holds her by the wrists as her father drapes a cloth over her mouth and nose. She kicks her legs and squirms beneath the guard, trying to buck him off. But he is twice her height and thrice her weight.

"Father, please." She whispers.

His demeanor is steely and unwavering as he approaches. She hears the sloshing of water as he comes closer. Her struggle intensifies.

"Stop crying, Azula. The goal is to not react." Ozai says tenderly, as though he were going to read her a bedtime story and not cause her, her first near death experience.

He carefully bends over and pours the water over the cloth. Slowly and steadily and then he presses the cloth more firmly against her nose and lips.

Azula kicks and thrashes with little thought, only her body's instinctive reflexes to keep her alive.

She begins to choke.

She only faintly hears her father reminding her not to cry. That crying is a weakness that a spiller can't afford; especially during a merciless interrogation.

But this is not an interrogation, this is her father standing over her and keeping air from reaching her lungs.

When her world starts to fade into a black vertigo and the fight leaves her body, Ozai removes the cloth.

She sucks in a deep gasping breath. Her lungs burn furiously. She wants to bring her hand to her throat but the guard still has her pinned.

She doesn't get to savor her rediscovered ability to breath because her father brings the cloth back down and wets it again.

The session repeats.

Over and over, every other day, until Azula grows accustomed to the awful burning in her lungs. Until she no longer fears her breathing being cut off.

Until her eyes grow vacant.

Her father is satisfied he smiles and tells her that he is proud of her. That she is going to be efficient and unstoppable.

She tries to feel proud of herself too. But her emotions are muted under layers of trauma.

Azula no longer fears an early death.

She expects it.

But Ozai's lesson has not prepared her for what they actually do in war. Not for what they do in the aftermath, when tempers are still roused and blood is still called for.

He hasn't prepared her for the pure rage and personal hatred they have for her in the Earth Kingdom.

They don't want information so she can't bring an end to her torment by giving them the answers they seek.

They don't want anything from her except to hear her scream and cry and beg to be spared.

They had come for her one night during while Zuko was in the middle of bargaining with them to show mercy on her for her war crimes. It is no wonder they were being so cooperative. They had been planning to go behind his back this whole time.

They throw her to the ground and leave her with no time to regain her bearings. She realizes that she is in the center of town in the middle of a large ring of people ranging from commoners to nobles and politicians.

The first of them steps forward and lugs a boulder into her side, a sturdy blow that knocks the wind out of her again and has her slamming against the pavement. They begin kicking at and stomping on her and suddenly her body feels so small and fragile. She feels small and fragile. This is nothing at all like her father had prepared her for.

The crowd parts and she thinks that they are done with her. At least until she spots a shadow hovering above her. The man lets an even larger boulder fall upon her hand. Her shrill cry covers the sound of cracked bone. She is certain that her hand is unsalvageably crushed. She rolls onto her side and clutches that wrist with her remaining hand.

More rocks come at her, smaller but painful just as well.

She feels sick.

She wonders if she should just pull and get it over with so she’d at least have a chance to fight back. But she can’t bring herself to do it. She knows that the hand is lost but she doesn’t want to see the damage. She certainly doesn’t want to take the liberty of amputating it herself.

In the back of her mind she thinks that they will eventually sever it for her.

The rocks beat against her body until it is bloody all over. Her tears don’t seem to draw any sympathy.

She is going to die and she is going to die slowly.

Azula feels a new sensation; the bite of a blade as a woman carves something into her side. She doesn’t want to know what it reads. She squeezes her eyes shut and prays that it will be over soon.

An entirely new person kicks her back onto her back so that they can drop another huge bolder upon her. She hopes that they will aim for her head or something that will kill her and end it. It falls upon her other hand instead. This time her scream is as loud as the pain is excruciating. Her whole body shudders in agony and she wishes that they were only waterboarding her as her father had some years prior.

A new face emerges from the crowd, it is familiar in a way; perhaps one of the Dai Li. “You have such a pretty face for such an ugly girl.” He snarls.

Azula cringes. She is breathing erratically as he brings a razor to her face, from the corner of her right eye he drags it down her cheek and to her chin. And then he jabs it into her nose. She feels a rush of blood seeping into her mouth and down her chin. There is so much of it that her vision is going fuzzy.

But she has been cursed and blessed with the ability to withstand and sustain a lot of damage. She feels the boulder pinning her right hand down shift. It rolls off of her hand and for one foolish moment she believes that they have had their sadistic fill.

Instead the Dai Li man and a woman grab her body and tug. Her eyes go wide as she realizes what is about to happen. She can feel the skin on her wrist begin to split.

That is her limit.

Azula wakes in a hospital feeling physically and emotionally absent. She is almost certain that she has been beaten beyond recognition. She is scared to look at her left arm but she forces herself to do so anyhow. At the end of it is a bandaged stump.

But somehow it doesn’t feel like it belongs to her. There is this merciful emotional disconnect.

Her other hand is also bandaged, at least it is still attached, even if it isn’t functional. Her ribs are also wrapped in bandages, she only needs to shift positions to know that they are bruised and broken.

She is bruised and broken in body, mind, and spirit.

“You’re awake.” Zuko notes.

“I shouldn’t be.” She whispers. “I shouldn’t alive.”

Zuko squeezes her remaining hand.

She almosts asks him why he let them do this to her but she knows that this is exactly what he had been fighting against. His only mistake was thinking that they’d be honorable during the negotiation process.

Slowly and with intense care, Zuko lifts her into his arms and cradles her against him. “Katara has been in and out, she says that your face is going to heal. There will only be a little scarring.”

Azula wishes that she could feel reassured, but she doesn’t. Not at all.

“It isn’t that bad anymore.” Zuko promises. “Not like it was four days ago. It isn’t as swollen.”

That implies that the swelling is still there. She doesn’t want to see her face and the state it is in. If it looks anything like her arms, legs, and the exposed parts of her belly, then it is a grizzly thing to behold.

“TyLee has been worried, she’s going to be happy that you’re awake.”

Azula should be happy that she is awake. Yet she can’t bring herself to be. What kind of life is she going to lead? She can hardly even breath right with the damage they had inflicted on her nose, muchless accomplish anything worthwhile.

.oOo.

TyLee traces the raised line of Azula’s scar, from the corner of her eye to chin. She gives the princess a soft kiss. It is comforting to have her around, especially when the nightmares resurface. On those nights when she is brought right back into the mob only to wake up screaming.

They grow less intense and less frequent as the years pass but when they do come they are still distressing.

She hugs TyLee close as they stare at the sunrise from the palace balcony. The wind tosses her hair, it is pleasantly warm on her face. After a healthy amount of quietly staring, TyLee turns around and takes Azula’s only hand and the stump. Azula closes her remaining fingers around TyLee’s hand.

She supposes that she is more or less used to the sight of it by now.

TyLee follows her gaze. One of her hands is on Azula’s cheek again. “You’re perfect.” TyLee likes to remind her of this every now and again. It has helped a lot over the years, especially during bouts of insecurity. The moments where she dwells on who she used to be and what she used to look like.

It isn’t so bad anymore, though. She has found ways to compensate for what has been taken from her. She has found ways to appreciate herself again.

“Thank you, TyLee.”

“I’m glad that you’re okay.” TyLee smiles.

Azula nods, “I am too.”

And she means it. Despite it all, she is thankful to have made it.

#Goretober 2019 #Avatar #Azula #TyLee #Tyzula #Zuko #Fanfiction

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hyacinthsgirl · 4 years

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“You shouldn’t really be out here all alone.” Probably the most cliched sentence he could come up with, yet it managed to catch the girl’s attention. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to him, golden eyes slowly appearing from behind a curtain of chestnut hair. His sudden arrival wasn’t bothering her, that was the look on her face was saying – and Irial was sure she wasn’t hiding any negative emotion. A few days of careful observation had assured him she was a crystal-clear lake. Lying and faking weren’t her weapons. A rarity to find in Hell or anywhere else, really. Irial pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and walked to her, stopping only a couple of steps away from her. Now that he was closer, he could pinpoint what had been itching and scratching for his attention since she had showed up in his life, bursting out of a shattered mirror, a naked crying thing that had forgotten how to use her tongue. It was her eyes, he decided. They were older than the rest of her face, as if they had been taken from a god’s corpse and pushed into her sockets. And here’s one more interesting little thing – there was no fear inside them. Even now, as she patiently waited for Irial to keep up with her, she was only curios. As easy to read as an open book: a kind of person Irial had always thrived on. The easiest to trick, although he had the feeling it wouldn’t be the same with her. She may look a little naïve, but not stupid; that much he was aware of.

One silent stare later, she – Chris, now her name came to his mind – asked: “Why not?”

He shrugged in false modesty, hands safely hidden inside the pockets of his coat. “Well, you just gotta look around to see that. This is the very definition of a dangerous place.” In the distance, screams and explosions rang in the air. After months Irial had gotten used to all those sudden, ear-shattering sounds and at this point they were nothing more than background noise to him, but perhaps the new girl wasn’t accustomed to Hell’s soundtrack yet. He carefully watched her, searching for the slightest twitch or any hint of discomfort. None so far. She was still standing before him, unmovable, looking right into his eyes as if to try to read his true intentions. A rebel lock of hair bobbed wildly, brushing against her cheek, and yet not even this was enough to distract her. He smirked. He would love this. “And you look like the kind of person who can be taken away in a snap.” And snap! went his fingers indeed!

Now she smiled, as if her words had brought a pleasant memory back to her attention. “I have been told that.”

He smirked in reply. “Yeah? I betted so. Everyone’d think you just walked out of a book.”

His remark ripped a laugh out of her – a gentler kind of violence coming from him. Her shoulders shook, her arms stayed still along her sides, not a hand rising to cover her amusement. Irial’s smirk stayed in place, securing the one mask he loved the most – the one of the good guy, dressed in black but with a witty tongue and a good heart… or so people thought until it was too late. He wasn’t going to do anything to her, though. She was Elle’s friend, and her friends were also Irial’s (well, not always, but exceptions were another part of the rule). He was only a little curios, a little intrigued, a little ready to lie his weapons down and use all of them to unravel the mystery that was this girl. He was carefully choosing which one to pick next, when Chris looked up from the ground and back at him, still smiling. “I’ve been told that, too.”

“And I betted so, too.”

“But?”

Quick to go to the point, uh? “But you didn’t tell me why you are walkin’ around here without looking not even a little bit scared. I mean, most people’d shit their pants in a place like this.”

“I know how to defend myself.”

He rose an eyebrow, only partly mockingly. “Oh, really?”

Chris slightly tilted her head to the side, as if a different point of view could help her see the implications behind Irial’s reply. “You don’t trust me?”

“No offense, querida, but you don’t look like someone who can defend herself.” A bit of teasing, a tad of prodding – the perfect recipe to force the truth out of her. Sure, he could have also asked her nicely to show him her abilities and she would have fulfilled his request without blinking, but it wouldn’t have been any fun. Irial took the two steps separating him from her and slowly circled her, paying attention to every detail as he spoke. “You look like the less dangerous thing in town.” A knot in her hair. A beauty mark on her neck. The barely visible curves beneath her dress. “Any demon here would think they can easily get away with kidnappin’ you.” Cracks on her nails. The illegible runes on the pendant of her necklace. He was seconds away from putting his hand over her shoulder, then decided against it. He stopped in front of her, their faces now inch away from each other. “So yeah, unless you can pull some sick ninja moves or magic stuff out of nowhere, I pretty much don’t think you can handle danger on your own.”

Her eyes told him exactly what he wanted. She was accepting this challenge without hesitation. “Do you want me to show it to you?”

He tried not to grin too widely, but he knew he was failing the moment he thought the last word. “C’mon. Impress me.”

She took a step back, her smile still gentle but also slightly mischievous, just like a fairy’s (of course Irial had never met a fairy in his whole life, but a thought in the back of his head told him that their smile would look exactly like hers), and then she seemed to forgot about Irial completely. She stared down at her palms, as if she were searching for something familiar in the lines crossing her flesh, words she used to read there all the time in the past. Just by looking at her, Irial had the feeling speaking wasn’t the only thing she had had to learn all over again. Her fingers moved slowly, as if weaving an invisible web or striking the impalpable chords of an instrument she hadn’t held in her hands for a very long time. However, hopelessness and fear never touched her features; if anything, only determination did. Fingers moving more slowly, her destination getting closer and closer now. Almost brushing against her fingertips, but not quite there yet. Irial shared her anticipation and didn’t notice he had slightly leaned forward, expecting her to conjure flowers or a raven out of nowhere. It looked like he was still good at making people do what he wanted, after –

Flames resurfaced from her skin and engulfed her hands before travelling down her arms, chest, legs, climbing the back of her neck, clinging to her hair, covering her face like a mask. A girl made fire, raw magic radiating from her once more – and Irial himself, who had had something to do with this kind of power centuries and worlds before, felt it resonate in his bones. As she burnt, smiling and greeting an old friend, he froze on the spot. His smirk was wiped away and replaced by shock trembling inside his eyes. Had she been just an inch closer, he would’ve stepped back to get as away from her as possible. Only his willpower stopped him from rising his hands as if to shield himself from her warmth and light, not so different from the ones he had known a long time before. His dislike for fire was temporarily gone, entirely overwhelmed by memories washing over him. In his eyes there was another smiling girl inside the fire, with sky-like eyes and a sword in her hand. Her gaze on him – a sharp pain in his chest, right where her blade had pierced him, when this whole place was even less real than a dream. Irial gulped, gritting his teeth in ancient, unforgotten pain. He didn’t like fire, but it never made him feel so uneasy, so naked in front of someone else – as if Chris had taken his appearance and ripped it open in two with those delicate, feminine hands of hers that seemed to have been made only to caress cheeks and rub backs. His breath quickened, an unleashed horse, and it took him a good minute to bring it back to a calmer pace. It wasn’t fear, it would never be, but whatever it was it was shaking him from the inside. He should’ve looked away and he couldn’t. A girl was burning and reminding him of years she didn’t know about, and all he could was to stare at her, hallucinating a crown on her head and wrong words on her lips.

“Is everything okay?”

Irial blinked twice, refocusing on the world around him. A bomb detonated in the distance, reminding him this wasn’t the last city before the Waste Lands, and it was enough. He felt all his muscles loosen gradually and his fists open – fists he didn’t even remember clenching. In the meantime, Chris was staring at him in confused concern. The last flames slowly withered on her shoulders and hands, and eventually the vision which had shocked him was gone. A weight flew off Irial’s chest, and he felt himself free to breathe again. His tongue quickly licked his lips. “Yeah. Why?”

“You looked…” She searched for the right word in silence. “Paralyzed.”

He chuckled, sounding surprisingly convincing. “You caught me off guard. Of all things I expected from you, seeing you light up like a bonfire wasn’t really on the list.”

She seemed to fall for it, as her following smile showed. “I can do other things too, if you’re curios.”

He rose his hands to stop her. “Ah, no! You already proved your point enough to me. Now I’m sure y’can handle yourself out here just fine.”

Another soft laugh. “Does that mean I have your permission to go now, then?”

“’ course you do. I’d never try to stop you now.” Not for the reasons she might have thought, though.

Chris gifted him with one last smile, then waved goodbye and was gone round the corner in the blink of an eye, while Irial stood still, mulling over what had just happened and allowing the muscles in his face to relax a little. His breath was still slightly heavy and echoed in his ears with a drum-like sound. He stared at the entrance of the alley for a while, then exhaled deeply. Well, that had been a lot to take. Thankfully his hands were back inside his pockets, otherwise he knew he would’ve seen them shake imperceptibly. This wasn’t fear, of course. It was the explosion following the opening of a door that had been left ajar for years. While he had witnessed his fair share of magic events in this life too, in decades he had never seen anything so similar to what she was able to do. Memories still danced before him, and he shooed them away like flies before they got too far, too close to the final page. He didn’t need to remember vividly what he already knew. Feeling like he was being stabbed all over again had been enough.

You know Chris isn’t what Lux was, right?

“Of course I fucking do,” he muttered to himself, kicking a pebble. It rolled on the ground in the same direction as Chris and stopped right before disappearing from sight. Irial followed its brief journey with his gaze, then clicked his tongue. He had danced with flames in front of a whole city once; he would never again. “That’s better for both me and her.”

#DRABBLE: memories draped by the beneficent spider.#i wrote this for a huge crossover me and elle are currently building at the moment #feat. Chris; Irial; The Glitch; and two canon muses i unfortunately adopted recently #i saved this on my pc as 'bitch gets burned' because Irial is out there being a fucking idiot and poking what he shouldn't #and casually unlocking Memories

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ijenblue · 5 years

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Save the Good News for Friday

24YrOld!Giorno x Pregnant!Reader

“Eh?!”

“(y/n)? Is something wrong?”

“B-Bucciarati...I’m hallucinating! There are too many lines here!” You shout at the shut door, fingers trembling and fumbling with the fifth pregnancy test. All the pink instruments laid splayed out in the sink with the same perfectly parallel lines. Your frantic eyes glanced at the lines again and again, hoping and praying that one of the lines would fade away or that Bucciarati would come in saying ‘it was all a joke I faked the tests’. But neither happened.

“Bucciarati your playing with me...right?”

“Of course not. Why would I joke around about something so important?” He shouts back at you through the bathroom door, and you feel your breakfast start to resurface. “A-Are you..?” He asks nervously, not wanting to finish the question for fear of the truth. When he hears the sounds of you retching he’s quick to open the door and stand by your side, holding your hair up for you and rubbing your back gently. He didn’t need to hear you say it; Bruno had guessed you might be pregnant after he started taking notice of your unusual snack requests and how often you excused yourself just to immediately get sick in the bathroom. He was the one that bought the five tests and shut you in the bathroom.

Once you finished up and gargled mouth wash, you slowed your rapid heart and sat back on the bathroom floor, trying to curl into a ball in the corner.

“What am I going to do Bucciarati!” You sobbed and brought your knees up to bury your face in them, letting the tears flow freely as you thought of all the bad omens surrounding you and your newly discovered child.”I-I’m too young! I can’t raise a kid right now.”

“Well, you should talk to the Father. I’m sure Giorno would be delighted-”

“Giorno! I can’t tell Giorno! He can’t have that kind of weight on his shoulders right now, h-he’s a Don!”

“That doesn’t excuse him from taking responsibility. Besides, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Slowly, you lifted your head to search his sapphire eyes for a lie. And when you found none, you felt your breathing slow and your tremors come to a stop. He’s right, maybe your nerves just got to you before your reason could. But even reason can’t sugar coat your unexpected pregnancy. A lot of work needed to be done before then.

“Okay, I’ll tell him later.” Bucciarati pondered your answer and then immediately protested.

“No. Wait till the end of the week.”

“Why?”

“Because we always like to save the good news for Fridays.” He says with a smile. “He’ll be busy all week so at least on Friday you’ll have his complete attention.” You nod and stand with the help of Bruno who had been nothing but helpful whenever you were troubled. You placed a gentle hand on your stomach and didn’t notice when a smile crawled up your face, but Bruno did. And he was sure your child would light up both of your lives like the angel you needed.

You separated with the secret kept between you two but as the week went by, your secret came closer and closer to spilling.

That night when you saw Giorno, he commented on your strange change of palet. He picked up your disgusted face at dinner and asked why you seemed so displeased with dinner despite the food being one of your favorites. You sweat a little nervous and then replied ‘Maybe my tastebuds change’ despite 7 years not going by.

On Tuesday Giorno found you writing names in a notebook. He was curious, asking why you were writing them and you nervously stuttered out that you were writing a story. He smiles and points to one name and says "Bellona is a pretty name." And you're not sure why, but suddenly you hope that you are blessed with a daughter.

On Wednesday you were approached by Mista as he teased "A little birdie told me we might have a mini GioGio on the way". You turn into a blushing mess before you grab him by the ear and pull him down so he can hear you clearly:

"If you tell Giorno I will kill you." You whisper before Giorno rounds the corner and asks what's going on. You glare at Mista and soon the two of you are claiming you were just in friendly disagreement.

On Thursday, you and Giorno enjoyed an especially beautiful brunch together. You sat in the gardens and shared a lovely conversation that had your heart beating. He seemed especially intimate, singing his love with words that you could feel, admiring your beauty and listening to you talk about your week so far. He even held your hand as you sat on one of the stone benches to study the lively garden. Your head on his shoulder and the forgiving sunlight of late-mornings kissing you both.

You spoke of the future very lightly. You didn’t want to bring work into this but you were curious as to what he wants to do now. And he smiles as tells you that all of his plans involve you.

“I think I’m ready for something more.”

“I’m sure it’s you. It’ll always be you.”

And you want to burst into tears right there. Your heart swells with happiness because now you knew he wanted this family too. You almost broke and told him straight then but in the back of your head Bucciarati reminded you:

Save the good news for Friday

And when Friday came, you woke late into the morning with your skin naturally glowing. Giorno was missing from beside you but that was normal in the mornings. He liked to beat the sun on most days.

The house was empty; not even Mista could be found roaming the halls. The silence did little to comfort you, leaving you quickly looking to the Don for company. When you found him sitting silently in his private Library with his nose in a book, you ran your hands down his bare shoulders and felt the addicting warmth his body gave up. You planted a kiss on his cheek and he responded by bringing his hand up to cup your face and guide your lips back to his.

“Buon Giorno mia vita.” He says with a kiss

“Buon Giorno amore mio. How is your morning?” You ask as you slide gingerly into the only other seat in the room meant only for you.

“Beautiful, now that you’re here.” He flirts as he sets down the heavy leather of the book and turns his full attention to you. Giorno’s ocean eyes take a moment to study you and you subconsciously shift in your seat when you feel them land on your fuller hips and recently aching breasts; you think for a moment that maybe he was noticing a little too much.

He was observant, and you were nearly 3 months in so you were bound to look like you had put on a little weight. Something like that would never get past him.

“Is there something on your mind?” He asks softly while bringing a gentle hand to envelop yours. You're sure he feels how warm your skin becomes; but now is as good as time as it’s ever going to be. The longer the wait the more time you had to overthink everything.

“Yes, actually. You know...I feel like this room is missing something.”

“Missing something?” He echoed, making sure he heard you correctly.

“Yeah. I think we need another chair here.” You said pointing to the space between the two of you. “I think we’re gonna need it soon.”

He gives you a weird look and stares at the space between you, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. No one was allowed in this room, only recently did Giorno even allow you to step foot in here. This was because he wanted a room that was meant for family only, where he could keep his most personal belongings. It was a relaxing space but it only had two chairs for the two people who were allowed past the doors.

It takes him a moment, but soon he turns to you with the most excited smile gracing his perfect features and asks: “Are we having company soon?”

You nod and smile at his stunned reaction. But he’s quick to stand bringing you with him and soon wrapping you in a tight hug. He lets his hand travel down to rest on your stomach so he can feel the life pulsating from withing you.

“Thank you for this blessing.” He whispers, warming your heart. And you think to your self that things couldn’t possibly get better in the arms of your soul mate.

But then something falls from his pajama pants pocket and skips twice before coming to a halt close by. Your attention is turned to the sound and your eyes narrow at the small box.”What’s that?” you ask.

“W-we...” He manages to stutter out, bringing his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I guess you weren’t the only one with good news this Friday”.

#giorno giovanna #jojo part 5 #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #domestic #jojo imagines #scenarios #sfw

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years

Text

The King of Hearts, pt. 10 (E.D. AU)

Summary: Lady Y/N and Ethan finally meet after five long years. Much has happened and they quickly fall into their old patterns. Once their questions are answered, only one remains.

Warnings: slight angst, fluff

Word count: 2840

The King of Hearts - Series Masterlist (Royal AU)

Y/N moves her hand to Ethan's chest, pressing her palm against the very cage his heart was fighting to escape. Her fingers curl slightly, touching on the soft fabric of his clothes, finding it much thinner than what he used to wear. It gives her a chance to feel the warmth of his skin almost like she touched upon his bare chest, almost like she could feel his heart in the palm of her hand.

She's hyper-aware of his hand and his delicate touch upon her cheek, knowing he's staring at her as if she's a dream come to life. Despite all of the years that came to pass, she still felt like a shy little rose before him. No matter how far she came, he was still her greatest weakness. It only brings her back to a time littered with graceful beauty of a first love and the devastating hurt that comes with the first heartbreak.

The way he spoke her name is slow and in astonishment, something she's forgotten – how incredibly soft he becomes when she's so close to him. No one could say her name quite like Ethan and many have tried. It just never sounds right, but with him...it's undeniable how different and exquisite it sounds.

Raising her uncertain gaze, she almost gasps with the sight.

Ethan is only inches away from her, so close that any movement on her behalf would result in a kiss. She takes in the sight with care, noticing all the little changes done by time.

His hair is tousled and wild, still a deep chocolate brown color she remembered. The way his hair is unruly against the slight breeze unlike her previous memory of it being styled to perfection reminded her of the tales she heard of him before she ever laid her eyes on him.

They said his hair is unruly and wild, just as his spirit.

A small smile begins to push its way to the surface, but Lady Y/N stops it before it's too late.

She then looks to his eyes, noticing them to be sunken and surrounded by darker circles, like the King hadn't slept well in ages. His eyes bore a heavy burden, heavier than she ever believed another person could carry. It's shocking how his hazel hues seem to be in anguish and yet so strikingly beautiful. It's almost infuriating how enchanting they are, especially now as all they reflected were his feelings for her.

The lines on his forehead are a little deeper, but his skin is still untouched by age. A small scruff lines his jaw and Y/N finally loses her battle with that smile.

It shows so clearly, causing Ethan's heart to skip more than one beat and due to their position, Y/N felt it happen under her fingertips.

While she studied him, Ethan did the same.

Y/N's hair is longer and curly, somehow richer in color than before. It flows so freely, the smell of lilies hitting him with each gust of wind. Her eyes seem to have aged as well, the wisdom and experience behind them making her seem older than before. Her cheeks are a rosy color, giving her a lovely blush Ethan seemed to love on her. Her skin is still smooth and soft under his fingertips, but cold from the ride. He looks to her lips, indulging himself for a moment by imagining his upon them and her by his side as a Queen.

„Unhand her!“ A sound of approaching hooves and a man yelling in a thick accent brings Ethan and Y/N back to reality and they part reluctantly, turning to the source of sound

„It's fine Albinus. Put down your weapons!“ Y/N commands and the men relax, doing as they're told. She glances at the newly arrived garrison and nods to them before turning to Ethan.

„I'm here with news, Your Majesty. If you'd be so kind as to allow us to accompany you back to the castle and cut your outing short, I'd be very grateful.“ The political tone threw Ethan off, just as her commanding a small group of soldiers.

There were a thousand questions rushing through his mind, all of them circling his brain like water circles a drain, except his thoughts couldn't go down it, only resurface and begin their torture again.

„I'd be honored.“ Ethan gives her a respectful nod, eyeing her in wonder.

When Y/N left him, she was but a fierce girl whose fire he extinguished, but it seems she found it once more. He doesn't see that girl before him anymore, but a woman commanding respect; a warrior, a leader, a force to be reckoned with.

As she walks toward her horse, Ethan sees her figure slightly changed as well. Her body is fuller, her curves showing once more and her muscles are toned under the lacy red sleeves of the stunning dress wrapped around her figure.

He mounts his horse and waits for them to move, looking around only to see a shield of men forming borders around him and Y/N.

The ride is silent and it only unnerves him more. He had to know what happened to bring her back, especially because he was certain he'd never see her face again. Not outside a dream, at least.

Y/N could tell Ethan was still staring at her, but she dared not look back. It was making her blood boil, just how easily he breached her carefully built defenses. However, they had much to discuss and she was there to do just that before returning to Denmark and away from this wretched place.

„Once you see him, you won't leave. I know it!“ Cameron states, throwing another pair of shoes in her carriage before looking to Y/N.

„I'm not staying there. It's just...if it was anyone but you, I'd refuse to go. I have a life here.“ Y/N points out, a heavy sigh falling from her lips. The thought of even seeing Ethan again had her entire body turning stone cold and foreign. She had yet to feel what he caused in her with other men. There was no one like Ethan out there and Y/N should know for she traveled through England, France, Spain, Italy and Denmark!

„You still love him, Y/N. Don't deny it.“ Cameron bores her eyes in Y/N's and she finally crumbles.

„I never denied that. I just feel it's a love that should never come to pass. I never should have let myself love him.“ Her voice shakes and it grows quiet until the words fade and her lips are sealed once more.

„It's not true. You love him and I know for a fact he loves you as well or he'd be married by now. Just stay a while and give him a chance! After everything, you owe it to yourself.“ Cameron slings an arm around Y/N's shoulders, bringing her to her side. The girls share a hug, a heartfelt goodbye, before Y/N finally steps back and gives Cameron a reassuring nod.

Once inside the castle, Ethan allowed Y/N a moment of solace to bathe and dress appropriately for court. He got restless fast, pacing in front of her old chambers with a single red rose in hand until the door finally cracked opened, letting the young King inside.

„I, uh, brought this for you.“ He offers the rose in utter dread to a rather stunning Y/N standing in her nightgown before him. Her eyes flicker from the rose to his very sweaty forehead before accepting it. The small sigh escaping him ends up being unnecessarily loud and Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his frightened behavior around her.

„Some habits never change, I suppose.“ Bringing the flower to her nose, Y/N inhales its flowery scent for just a moment before letting it fall on her bed, taking a seat right after. She taps the spot beside her and Ethan's eyes widen. Even though he has only honorable intentions, he can't help but think sitting on that bed is the last thing he'd want to do with her. He'd much rather have her bare and moaning under his touch, trembling with every touch.

Gulping, he sits and looks up at her impossibly bright and relaxed face. She seems unbothered and completely at ease with him and it makes Ethan that more nervous. Clearing his throat, Ethan dares to speak and finally begin a conversation he's had with her a thousand times in his head.

„I never though I'd see you again.“

She presses her lips together, her lips twitching as if they want to move in order to speak, but something's stopping her from letting that happen. She keeps her eyes on him, not wavering for a single second as her mind tries to find the best way to form her thoughts.

„Cameron asked me to come. There are news too important to send through an untrusty proxy. In fact, it's rather unexpected, but good.“ She begins, licking her lips.

„As the current King of Denmark has no children of his own, the next in line would be Cameron's husband – Aksel, making her the next Queen. The King was days away from passing when I left and I'm sure by now, Cameron is preparing to be crowned.“ She tells him the news, seeing worry pass across his features.

„I hoped she'd never know the difficulty ruling a kingdom brings. However, I'm happy for her. I take it all is well with Cam and Gray as well?“ Ethan asks, remembering his twin who he sees so rarely nowadays.

After Grayson left, he and Ethan would see each other about once or twice a year at the border. They wrote letters every fortnight, but letters were never as good as the real deal. Each letter would contain their innermost thoughts, coded in a language only they knew since little, including information about a certain Lady present at this very moment. He always asked if she was alright, knowing she still frequented England during her travels. He sent the same letters to Cameron, one every month to make sure his sister is fairing well. Even though Ethan loves his sister dearly, he'd be lying if he said those letters weren't for his own selfish desires for he knew Y/N spends most her time by Cameron's side if she's not somewhere off in the world.

„Grayson and his Queen had a wedding a week after we arrived in England. She never gave him the crown matrimonial as you know, but he didn't seem to mind. They're very much in love and their little ones are already causing mayhem around the castle. Little Charles reminds me of you actually. On the other hand, Cameron is due any day now, but she's happy. Aksel treats her as a Queen regardless of the crown being on her head or not.“ Y/N moves her hands around as she explains the life his siblings have, waving them around as she used to do and he smiles, watching her until something catches his attention; a ring she's wearing on a gold chain around her neck.

„And your husband?“ He interrupts her, not taking his eyes off the crystal rock attached to the ring. He wished to know is she's happy. He wanted to hear about her life and her children even if it killed him. He'd give it all for that sweet misery.

„Oh! You heard...not that I should be surprised. I mean, you're the King and all.“ She begins to mumble, her left hand clutching the ring now.

„Y/N.“ Ethan puts his hand on her thigh, just above the knee but the impression is left on both of them. It's a pull they've always felt and the simple touch of his hand upon her leg is enough to stop her from rambling and to start making sense.

„I married two years ago...to a man of thirty with two daughters. He was Lord Commander in Denmark and a lovely, charming man...a true friend. He reminded me of you and Jon most of the time. It kind of felt like I couldn't escape you no matter how far I ran. And...one day he came back with a mortal wound from battle. A wound I couldn't fix. We were sure he'd die and according to the law it would leave his girls penniless...So, we married and I left his inheritance to his girls, raised them myself the past two years. They're twins, each to be married in a few years now. We never...consummated the marriage, but I did care for him greatly. Had he lived, I'd have married him either way. Despite never loving him like I knew I could, I think he'd make me happy.“ Y/N's eyes filled with tears, her eyes glistening against the candlelight. Ethan found them bright and shinny like stars, the same ones he watched every night in hope of finding her in them.

„So...you're a widow. Those daughters aren't of your blood.“ Ethan begins, relieved to know Y/N seems to have never moved on from him, giving Ethan a once in a million chance of happiness.

„And you're the King of Hearts...every corner of Europe has your name whispered between girls of all statures...men too.“ Y/N quirks her eyebrow and waits for Ethan to confirm her suspicion.

Had he moved on from her or had he been as stuck as she felt?

„Lies. I've never touched any of them. I'd never risk making bastard children or worst...marrying a woman I have no love for.“ Ethan's words are true, Y/N could tell. They had traces of bitterness in them, but true nonetheless. She knew him well, even after five years have passed. She knew him.

„Seems to me we're still the pathetic sack of bones and meat we were back then.“ Y/N chuckles under her breath, boldly overlapping her hand with Ethan's still stationed on her leg.

„It would seem so.“ Ethan says quietly, nearing Y/N subconsciously.

„I should probably rest for the night. It's been a tiring journey.“ Y/N states and Ethan rubs the back of his neck nervously, realizing her hand isn't moving from his. It's not that he would protest it, but he was unsure if it was on purpose or she simply forgot about it.

„I'll let you sleep, then.“ Ethan goes to stand, but Y/N is quick to grab onto the sleeve of his shirt, pulling on it and their eyes connect. Once her eyes search his with a silent plea in them, Ethan knows she's feeling a sense of dread being back in the castle where the worst possible things happened to her. He knows she's desperate for contact with him as he's desperate for contact with her. All he truly wants is to wrap her in his embrace and to hell with anyone who would protest or dare speak ill of their feelings.

„Can you stay with me? Just hold me?“ Her words are quiet, like whispers of her heart's desires and her voice is vulnerable, cracking. It's just as he thought and he doesn't hesitate in doing as he wished to do. Quickly, but surely, Ethan wraps her in his arms, pressing her so closely he was sure they'd melt into a single being.

They spent the entire night in each others arms, sleeping like lovers do. There was talk about it the next day around the castle, but neither payed mind to anything anyone had to say. Their days became filled with little adventures and long walks, talking for hours until they found themselves in bed, sleeping next to one another again.

It's been a couple of months of such public courting as the people saw it, bringing everyone's attention to the so clearly in love King and their possible future queen. They remembered her from before, the one person who would send them coins to feed their children or educate them as well. She was always a people's favorite and they were more than happy to see her return. As was the Queen Mother.

Ethan walked across the meadow, his fingers grazing Y/N's ever so slightly as a pleasant silence settled between them. He had been looking at her as she stared at the growing flowers surrounding them, both of them in awe for different reasons.

„Y/N.“ He finally speaks, realizing his intent had to be done as he could no longer bare to be so close to her and not actually have her. He’s terrified to even mutter the words, his brave heart turning cowardly with fear clutching onto him like the most treacherous of all emotions running through his veins.

„Yes?“ She turns to him, only to gasp loudly once she sees him on the ground. There is King Ethan on one knee and a beautiful ring in hand as he looks up at her with hope.

„What are you doing?!“ She whisper shouts, looking around to see if there's anyone who witnessed this moment of weakness on the King's behalf.

„Marry me?“

Tags: @heeydolan @ashwarren32 @ourlittleshawnie @peacedolantwins @accalialionheart @dolans-lover @xalayx

#ethan dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan au #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan angst #royal au #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fic

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defendersofaurita · 6 years

Photo

Title: Retrace I: What Defines

Author/Artist: AnchoredTether

Rating: M [graphic depictions of violence, major character death, dark themes]

Pairings: Plance [Pikelavar], Kallura [Thunderyun]

Series: Defenders of Aurita

Chapter: 7/?

Summary: With the evil wizard Dakin defeated, Block can finally save his village from being turned to stone. Meklavar seeks to retrieve the Jewel of Jitan, Jiro needs to avenge his master (and twin brother) and slaughter the Leviathan, Valayun continues her search for the runestone, and Pike seems to have an agenda of his own. Revelations are brought to light and a mysterious ranger may be the key to solving their problems.

Note: Chapters with “Retrace” in their title are flashbacks!

CH 07 :: RETRACE I : WHAT DEFINES

There was no indication for being dragonborn.

Princess Yekaterina didn't find out until she was thirteen.

She was watching King Samuel and prince Matvey practice fighting, with her father teaching her brother various defensive and offensive spells. She couldn't cast magic and always felt a deep longing and disconnect when she watched the brightly colored spells bounce off their shields. It was simultaneously beautiful and begrudging.

She should have probably been reading up on history books or helping her mother with the gala invitations, but she snuck to the outdoor arena and hid under the wooden bleachers, her honey eyes watching fervently between the gap of the seats. She could hear her father give instruction between their parries and watched how her brother's blue markings and her father's green illuminated each time they started to cast a spell. Even though the only markings on her skin she could see without a mirror were the ones that graced her collarbone, she was disheartened to know she would never see hers glow as her father's did.

She watched them practice nearly every day and every day was the same mix of fascination and disappointment. This time was different, however, when Matvey cast a fire spell and Samuel deflected it…

Sending the fire straight toward the wooden bleachers where Yekaterina hid.

They were horrified when they heard her screaming but it was quickly cut short when Katya realized she wasn't in pain. She pulled herself free from the fiery wreckage, half of her dress burned away and her face set in confusion. She was completely missing her sleeve and a chunk of her skirt, the rest of her yellow dress in tatters and covered in ashen streaks. She looked down at her bare arm as if it weren't a part of her, her father's concern barely reaching her ears as he knelt down and his hands held hers.

"Katya, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Only when his hands gently held her face and forced her to look him in the eyes did she resurface from her daze. "Why… am I not hurt…?"

After putting out the flames with a water spell, Matvey stood next to them and looked from his father to his sister and back again. "Did I cast the spell wrong…?"

"No, it wasn't an illusionary spell it was well cast fire." Samuel pointed to the blackened hole in the benches. "It clearly burned through the wood, it should have burned through your sister as well."

"It burned through her clothes, but not her skin…"

Samuel stood up, his face pensive as he looked down at his daughter. "Matvey, help your sister get a change of clothes and both of you meet me back in my study." He turned to head back towards the castle, picking up his sword and shield as he left.

][ --- ][

"You think I'm what?"

"Dragonborn." The doors to the study were shut, leaving the royal family in quiet privacy. Samuel stood behind his desk where several tomes lie open, while Katya and Matvey sat in armchairs, Colleen timidly standing next to her daughter with a hand on her shoulder. "The records speak of legends of dragonborn and how they were immune to fire… individuals who bore the soul and power of a dragon."

"Isn't that a myth?" Collen asked. "Just some fairytale from ages ago?"

"How else could one explain why the fire did not burn Katya? Didn't even hurt her?"

"It didn't even feel hot…" Katya said softly. "It only felt warm. How is it that I've lived my whole life and never been burned until now?"

"It's not like you've ever worked in the kitchens, dear." Colleen reminded. The life of a princess wasn't one filled with inconvenient dangers. "Food that would have normally burned someone's mouth might have gone unnoticed to you all these years…"

"That explains the chicken pot pies!!" Matvey stood up with a sudden burst of energy. "One night she was chowing down on hers as if it wasn't a thousand degrees and calling me a pansy for being unable to eat mine until she was nearly done with hers! That was the night I realized my sister was dangerous…" He said in a far too serious tone.

Katya frowned at her brother then looked back at her father. "What does it all mean though? A-am I cursed or something? Have I not been an elf this entire time? Am I even your daughter?"

"Of course you're my daughter, Katya." Samuel reassured with a sadness in his amber hues. "There is much we do not know concerning dragonborn, and I'm afraid it will difficult to find the answers we seek. The last recorded dragonborn was hundreds of years ago, and what little is written down is obscured by legend and superstition. This discovery needs to remain a secret between us. We do not know how many people out there would try to kidnap you for your power or kill you out of fear. I will consult Alfor and Korhan since they may have some insight concerning the matter. Don't worry, Katya… I will learn all I can about this. You mustn't live in fear of what you are. Know that this doesn't change how much we love you in the slightest. You are still princess Yekaterina Telcontar, but more importantly… you are still my daughter."

Katya held back her tears, nodding softly as she felt her stomach continue to tie itself into knots.

][ --- ][

][ music ][

Being a princess who lived in a castle offered little to no solidarity. If Katya wasn't surrounded by her family or nobles or teachers, there was always a guard or servant nearby. She went to the one place where she knew the guards would at least be at a greater distance, hopefully far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear her crying.

She contained the turbulent hurricane within herself incredibly well. When she wanted to cry she kept a strong face and nodded. When she wanted to fall to the ground and never get up, she kept walking. When she wanted to do nothing but scream she kept her frustration contained in curled fists at her sides. Her father decided she would have her training intensified so she could properly defend herself. While she was excited to practice more fighting (she already loved fencing with Korhan), she knew her teachers would not go easy on her, and they hadn't. She couldn't cast magic which meant she had to be twice as good at physical combat than the average soldier if she ever hoped to win in a fight against a sorcerer or mage. Being so short had its disadvantages as well… her training had so far been nothing but brutal.

Several days passed from her self-realization and she couldn't take it any longer. She briskly walked to the one place where she knew she could get a shred of privacy: the orchard.

As to be expected there were several guards stationed around the walls that surrounded the orchard, but there were no guards within the lines of trees and it went on for acres. Once she crossed the fence into the orchard a guard acknowledged her.

"Oh your highness, are you going within the orchard? I'll have a few of us accompany you."

"No," She said a little too forcefully, and quickly decided to soften her voice, "No, it's alright. I… need some time to think. If I'm not back within say…. An hour, come and look for me."

"Yes, your highness." The guard said with a bow of his head.

She made her way deep into the rows of trees, past the pears and oranges and found herself amongst apples. She could only see two guards from her position and they were afar off. She let out a groan of frustration which sounded more like a growl. Every hurt and confusion boiled inside her until she felt it would consume her. She slumped down and pulled her knees to her chest, burrowing her head and releasing the floodgates. The sobs wracked her body and she hated the sounds that escaped her throat.

The crack of a branch snapped her head up as she looked wildly around for the source of the sound. Upon closer observation she saw beneath one of the trees several feet away from her had a basket of apples and a pair of shoes. She stood up, wiped the tears from her face and walked over to inspect the tree. She saw the source when she looked up into the branches and saw a boy grasped onto a branch. He was hugging it like cat stuck in a tree who was scared to come down… which wasn't too far from the truth considering he had feline ears and a tail.

"A-are you…"

"I'm sorry your highness!!" He squeaked, to which Katya just blinked in surprise.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"You startled me so I hid up here and then you started crying and then I felt really bad for not giving you privacy but if I leapt down from the tree that would have scared you so I just kind of stayed up here and…I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude!!"

Katya was trying her best not to laugh at his adorable rambling apology. "It's okay, you're not intruding. You were here first. I would think I would notice you climbing up a tree… guess I must really be out of it…"

"Oh I didn't climb, I jumped." The cat boy said so matter-of-factly.

"You…" She looked from the ground up to where he was clutching the branch. "…jumped?!"

"Yeah. Easy-peasy." He pulled himself up and landed back on the grass only to demonstrate his jump as he launched himself back into the tree, swinging himself up onto a branch to perch upon.

She could feel her jaw start to slack. "You just jumped six feet."

"Yeah?" He said as if it were obvious. "All khaliit can do that." The claws of his cat-like feet dug into the bark of the tree and his tail swayed languidly as it helped him keep balance. Katya was staring at him a bit longer than she should have. The boy arched a brow. "Have you never seen a khaliit before or something?"

"Uhh what! Yes, of course I…" She folded her arms and pouted defiantly. "Well, not this close, no."

He laughed. "Well I've never seen a princess this close, so I guess we're even."

She smiled. "You can come down, you know."

"As you wish." He landed softly in the grass. The redness in his cheeks intensified, one of his ears flicking nervously. "I-I can go make a trip to the kitchen - I mean I've gathered a good number of apples - that way you can get the solitude you sought. I won't tell anyone about you crying, in fact, consider it wiped from my memory." He made a motion with his hand going over his head, ears flattening back with his hand to emphasize the point. He started to reach for the basket of apples but the princess stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait…" She felt the tears start to well up in her eyes. His wording stuck out to her, caused her to reconsider the solitude. "…Can you keep a secret?"

The boy looked at her hand on his shoulder as if it were something to cause the king to execute him. His sapphire eyes locked with her amber and she noticed this close that his pupils were slitted, a strange combination of both feral and beautiful. "Yes, your highness?"

She took a step back, releasing her hand and a sigh of relief. "I just found out I'm dragonborn. And I'm not handling it very well."

"You're… dragonwhat?"

"Exactly. No one really knows what it's supposed to mean. Supposedly it means I have a soul of a dragon… and apparently I'm immune to fire…"

"Wait, so you can't be burned?"

"No… that's how I found out all of this to begin with. My brother nearly cremated me."

The boy made a face, his cat ears pinning back. "And I thought my siblings were rough…"

"It was an accident… but still…" Her eyes fell to the ground. "I just… I feel like I don't even know what I am. And it scares me…"

The boy was already incredibly nervous being in such close proximity to the princess and now he was uncertain how to comfort her when she looked like she was on the verge of crying once more. "For a long time… I was led to believe I was nothing more than an animal…" He said softly, his expression sad. "It took me a long time to break that mindset, and I… actually still struggle with it sometimes… but you can't let one thing define you. You're not just a princess. You're not just an elf. You're so much more than that, and if dragonborn happens to be one of those traits, then… maybe it's not as bad as it seems to be."

Katya's brows furrowed in anger. "I sure hope no one here was making you feel like nothing more than an animal or I'll personally beat them to death."

"Oh no no no no it was no one here!" He waved his hands defensively, subtly scared at how aggressive she became over the matter. "M-my previous masters…"

"Previous masters? What were you…"

"A slave? Yes."

Her expression fell, the knots in her stomach tightening. "I… I'm so sorry…"

"It's nothing you need to apologize for. Your father was actually responsible for saving my family."

"How do I… not know about this?" She suddenly felt like she fit the stereotype of being a royal who knew nothing about her people, not even her own servants, and it made her sick to her stomach.

"It was a long time ago. I think you were only six or something."

"Still… What's your name? I don't even know your name…"

"Pike. Pike Cimclan."

She nodded softly. "I at least recognize your last name. Is our head chef your mom?"

"That's her! We're the only khaliit in the castle staff that I'm aware of. There might be some in the royal guard who are khaliit, but there's so many of them there's no way I would know."

"I only know the head generals of the guard. My dad probably knows everyone individually." She sighed. "I'm just… so bad with names and faces and… people in general."

"Me too…" He agreed with a nervous chuckle. He blinked a few times then narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her with an encouraging smile. "But just remember that it's not what you are that defines you, but the choices you make. It's who you decide to be in your everyday decisions that define who you truly are."

Katya smiled at him, wiping away a tear from one of her eyes. "Thanks Pike… You've really helped me feel better."

"My pleasure. It was something my mom always taught me." He leaned down to pick up the basket of apples and grab his shoes. "I really should be heading back though, otherwise my mom will think I took a nap… again."

"Fair enough." She had to work really hard at holding back a giggle at the thought of the cat boy being prone to taking naps in the afternoon. She pointed to his shoes and then to his feet. "Quick question before you go, why do you wear shoes when you literally have paws for feet?"

Pike deadpanned. "They're not paws, they're khaliit feet… okay they're paws but for the same reason you wear shoes? I don't fancy having dirty or cold feet." He shrugged. "I take them off when I climb trees because I like to utilize my claws."

She gave a thoughtful nod. "I guess that makes sense. If you had fur would you still wear shoes?"

"I! I don't know! Probably?" He scoffed. "You ask funny questions, your highness."

"Sorry." She held up her hands innocently. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Oh, we're making cat jokes now?" He asked in jest.

"Okay, that was pushing it, I'm sorry." They both laughed and Katya couldn't remember the last time she felt so light and carefree. Speaking with Pike helped ease her worries and lift her burdens, and she looked up at him with a warmth in her eyes. "Perhaps I'll see you around?"

"Perhaps." The way he said it felt like a promise. Before leaving he offered her a formal bow, then headed back towards the orchard entrance, calling over his shoulder, "Take care, your highness."

Katya smiled at his back. "I will."

#chapters #defenders of aurita #voltron fanfic #voltron dnd #voltron au #monsters and mana #voltron dnd au #pikelavar #pikelavar fic #voltron #vld

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homeofthelonelywriter · 6 years

Text

Drabbles: Loki #69

(A/N) Hey there! So this is the first thing I’ve written since my writer’s block. It’s slowly fading so it’s getting better! Either way, I hope you like it! I’m sorry if it sucks, but I tried my best!

Drabbles:

#69 “I thought you forgot about me.” – “Never.”

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warning: fluff, angst

Masterlist

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Being in love is hard. Being in love with a prince is harder. I grew up in the palace, alongside the two princes Thor and Loki. My mother was the Queen’s personal handmaiden and my father was captain of the guard. So, I guess I was pretty important too. My life was comfortable. I went to school with the princes, played with the princes and trained with the princes. Life couldn’t have been better, but the frost giants had other plans. One night, they attacked Asgard and the palace and both my parents were killed. In just a few hours I became an orphan. The Queen and the Allfather too me in and continued to raise me as one of their own, but it didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to have new parents, I wanted my old ones back, but I knew that would never happen.

After some time, I accepted the truth and stopped complaining about everything. I continued to train with the princes and to play with them. Loki even taught me some of his ‘magic’ tricks, and soon I was just as good a warrior as him and Thor. Maybe not as strong, but definitely as quick and more agile than those two could be. The only remaining problem was the Allfather. “We took you in. You’re our daughter and you will be a princess!” His roar echoed through the palace, but I didn’t budge. We yelled at each other, until the Queen brought me back to my room. “Y/N, I know how you feel, but Odin means you no harm.” I ignored her and walked to my bathroom to undress and take a bath. While I soaked in the hot water, an idea struck me and I immediately began to transform it into reality. I got my worst clothes out and changed into them, before I took everything I held dear to me, including one of Loki’s daggers he gifted me, and left the palace, hoping to never be seen again.

In town, I found a nice little apartment, I had no trouble paying since I also took all the money I had with me. I had to stay low for quiet some time until the uproar about the vanished princess died down. Thankfully, the lady that owned the apartment didn’t ask any questions and brought me food and water and everything I needed throughout those weeks.

Slowly, I got used to the normal life and I actually started to enjoy it. My landlady had a little shop I helped her with. She sold everything from food to hygiene products, so we never were short on anything.

A few years passed, and no one talked about me anymore. I changed my name to keep a lower profile. The only thing that still reminded me of my old life was the dagger. And all the memories that resurfaced whenever I saw Loki riding through town. He was the only one that checked around from time to time, to see if anyone found me, but after a few years, he gave up and moved on.

The thought, to go back to my old life, never once crossed my mind. Well, at least not until Loki got engaged. A boy ran through the streets, yelling the news all over and the citizens were overjoyed. A royal wedding has always been a cause to celebrate. But I couldn’t believe it. How could I have been so naive to think that he would never get married. We weren’t even a couple or anything close to that. But I finally gave in to all the feelings I supressed for so long.

I went outside the store and watched as the citizens ran to the main street. Apparently, Loki and his bride were coming down that way. Without thinking twice, I ran to the crowd and tried to push through it. I couldn’t bear with knowing that he married another woman without knowing about my feelings.

“Loki!” My yell was drowned by the whistles and clapping of the crowd. There was no chance he would hear me. I pushed harder to get to the front, until I finally barrelled straight into the arms of a guard. “Hey! Watch where you are going!” He shoved me back and I fell onto my ass. A yelp escaped my lips and the crowd around me fell silent. Between the legs of the guard, I could see Loki’s horse stopping and two feet hit the ground.

“What’s going on here?” His voice boomed across the street and soon I could see his face. “Nothing my prince, this street rat didn’t wa-“ “Y/N...” He pushed the guard out of the way and ran to me. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” He kneeled next to me and gently touched my arm, as if afraid I would have vanished if he was to rough with me. “You’re going to marry?” My eyes watered, and he chuckled. "I am. But I think I have to change my bride.” He grinned and pressed his lips to mine, before he picked me up bridal style. Shocked I held onto him, and gripped the back of his shirt. He carried me to his horse and sat me atop of it.

“Loki?! What are you doing? Who is she?” A shrill voice sounded behind me. A pretty girl in a flowing pink dress had her hands on her hips and glared at Loki. “This, is Y/N. She is the one I’m going to marry.” He smiled at the other girl, before he jumped onto the horse behind me, wrapped one arm around my waist and grabbed the reigns with the other one. One click of his tongue and the horse sped away, towards the forest. Behind us, the yells of the girl and the guards could be heard, but neither of us cared. I held onto Loki, burying my face in his chest. Closing my eyes, I tried to remember the old Loki and compare him to the man he became, but everything was so different. It almost felt as if we knew each other in another life. His arm tightened around me and my hands gripped his shirt tighter. I just now noticed that he wasn’t wearing his armour.

We continued on and on, until we reached a small cabin. The same cabin Loki took me to, whenever I was sad. He jumped of his horse, before he helped me down. Before I could say something, he took my hand and gently pulled me towards the cabin. We walked inside, and he closed the door behind me. After that, we just stood there in silence, neither of us wanting to say something.

His back was turned to me, but as soon as I shifted from one foot to the other, he turned around. Two large steps and I was wrapped in his arms. “I missed you so much.” His arms tightened, and I returned his hug. “I missed you too.” After he was satisfied with the hug, he let go of me and led me to the bed, where he sat us down.

“Why did you leave?” His voice was so much deeper than I remembered. “I’m no princess Loki. I was used to being the daughter of a guard and a handmaiden.” He nodded his head in understanding. He always understood and helped me to hide when I just wanted to get away. He has been my anchor. But...he stopped. I know it’s selfish, but I hoped he would never give up on finding me. He did.

“I thought you forgot about me.” I was barely finished with the sentence when he grabbed my shoulders and turned me to him. “Never!” His eyes were wide, and he looked almost scared. “I would never forget you!” He pulled me into him and I hid my face in his chest. “I missed you so much. I was so scared I would never see you again.” His arms around me tightened around me and his lips pressed against my hairline. I nodded, but stayed in his arms, and he didn’t complain.

Sadly, a raven from Odin soon landed on Loki’s shoulder and he had to let go of me.

Loki unrolled the message and sighed. “Odin wants me to come to the palace...I’ll drop you off at your apartment.” He stood up and offered me his hand, which I gladly took. Pulling me up, he wrapped his arms around me. "I love you." He used his right index finger to gently raise my chin. I nodded before I stood on my toes and pecked his lips. “I love you too.” He smiled at me, before he kissed me. “Let’s go.” He took my hand and led me out to his horse, where he picked me up again and sat me down.

Within minutes, we were back in the city and I gave him directions to my apartment. As soon as we reached it, the landlady ran out. “There you are dear! I was worried!” She stretched out her hands and I took them. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.” Loki jumped down in the meantime and helped me down from the horse. “Oh my. I’m sorry I didn’t address you properly my prince.” She quickly curtsied and didn’t dare to raise her head. “Please don’t worry. Thank you for taking care of Y/N.” He gently smiled at the old woman before he turned back to me. “I’ll be back later. We have a lot to talk about.” I nodded, and he pressed one last kiss to my lips, before he mounted his horse and rode off.

“Why are you letting him go?” Her voice was mischievous, and she smirked at me. “I’m no princess. You know that.” I was about to walk inside, but she blocked me. “You’re kind, gentle, beautiful, intelligent, brave. Do you want me to go on?” I shook my head and smiled at the ground. “Go get him, my princess.” She grinned at me and curtsied at which I had to laugh. “Thank you.” I quickly hugged her, before I took off towards the palace. I ran at full speed and was more than just breathless when I finally reached the golden palace. But I had to push on. The guards tried to stop me, but I avoided them and continued to the throne room, where Odin and Loki would surely be. Luckily, the door was open, and I just had to duck beneath the open arms of the guards that tried to stop me.

I entered the throne room and the conversation stopped. Odin, Frigga, Thor, Loki and his to be bride and her family all stared at me. At first, all of them looked shocked, but Thor and Loki quickly recovered. “Y/N!” Thor’s booming voice echoed through the room and he ran to me and crashed me in a hug. “I missed you too!” I laughed and patted his shoulder. He let me go and Loki stood behind him. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so quickly.” He grinned, before he wrapped me in a hug and kissed me in front of everyone. The other girl yelled again and even started crying, but Odin asked her parents to escort her out. After that, I had to face Odin and Frigga.

At first, they were silent. Then, Frigga ran towards me and hugged me. “I’m so glad you’re back.” She kissed my forehead and took a step back. “So... you’re back.” Odin sounded unimpressed. He stood up from his throne and slowly walked down the steps before it. After a few agonizing seconds, he stood before me and silent consumed us. “Father-“ Before Loki could continue, Odin hugged me. “You’ve been missed, my dear.” I smiled at him as he pulled back. “But there is a lot to talk about. For example, you and Loki? Really? We finally found a woman that wanted to marry him and than you show up?” I laughed and leaned against Loki who stood beside me and had one arm wrapped around me. “Yeah...sorry.” We laughed, and I somehow knew that my landlady was right. Maybe I am a princess. Well, at least if Loki is my prince.

Ugh...cheesy!

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I made a Discord server! If you want to join, I’d be really happy! We already are a few! It’s like a small family! Join our family! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ You can find the link to the original post here!

#loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson #drabble #loki drabbles #loki oneshot #loki ff #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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junkpoetic · 3 years

Photo

Four

On the verge of his tenth mile, Elliot had a feeling like he had to urinate. With seemingly no shrubbery around he contemplated just going in his shorts. He figured by the time he’d reach the finish line the ratio of sweat to urine would hide the fact that there was any urine at all. When he made the decision that he was going to go for it, he slowed to a trot and attempt to release, but he couldn’t. There was only more feeling of having to go. He decided to ignore everything and began running faster again.

The wind and sweat made the road rash on his wrists and knees scream. On a whim he took a left at the next side street and slowed his run to a walk. Eventually he came to a complete stop. He found himself in a sort of rundown neighborhood that had a shoddy old shopping plaza in it vacant with more boarded windows than windows. For some reason he turned his microphone off. I did not realize this until we played back the tape later on, I was consumed in the bar lights with Juno Rafferty.

Elliot began walking door to door and pulling on them to see if any were accidentally left unlocked. He figured there had to be an old toilet somewhere inside. He doesn’t remember if it was the fourth or fifth door he tried but he noticed the board on the window next to it was loose. He looked around to make sure he was alone before climbing in. He was shocked when the light flicked on when he flipped the switch. The majority of the bulbs were burnt out but there was enough life in the lights that lit to allow him to see things clear enough. It looked like an old insurance company or doctor’s office, the smell of ink and paper still lingered among the dust. It was a room that sat stagnant, waiting for nothing. When he turned the bathroom light on the light flickered and fought before eventually burning consistently. He stood over the toilet waiting a lifetime to piss. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled before finally feeling a painful trickle. It looked more like apple cider than lemonade. Fuck he said beneath his breath. He attempted to flush but nothing happened, nor did the water turn on so he couldn’t wash his hands. He cranked the paper towel spool and unraveled a few sheets of hardened yellowed tissue and dabbed his wounds with it. Thankfully his cuts didn’t look as bad as they stung.

When he walked back out into the office the room felt dimmer. He wondered if more bulbs had burnt out while he was urinating. He pondered lightbulbs for some odd reason. He found it funny that when one burned out at his house, he didn’t change it right away. He’d just get used to dimmer light. He’d wait until enough burned out and change them all at once. There’s less flaw in dimmer light, he liked that. It leveled the playing field. He felt the same about the snow. Everyone’s yard looks the same in a snowstorm.

When he climbed back through the window, he gazed out upon the empty parking lot. The broken streetlamps, the dead weeds stuck between cracks in the concrete. The trashy graffiti that meant nothing to most people and everything to whoever created it. He tried to resurface from his cavernous mind, but something was off. He kept falling deeper. He stared at the graffiti for much longer than a moment. Stuck in gaze, he couldn’t make out what it said. A voice shouted startling him from his daydream. He didn’t hear what they said, he waved and trotted back toward the marathon course.

10.87 miles- Bloody. Brown piss. Delirium.

He didn’t remember to turn his mic back on until he felt the adhesive tape itching against his chest reminding him that he was wearing it.

“Paulie? You there?”

“Jesus Elliot, where have you been?”

“Took a fall, had find a toilet.”

“You alright?”

“I think so.”

He would never admit that he was not okay. He wasn’t even halfway through and so dehydrated. I told him to stop running but he kept rambling about lightbulbs and parking lots attempting to sound philosophical. It apparently made sense in his mind. I had to laugh because it reminded me of the first time we got drunk together.

“Call off the dogs E. I am worried about you now.”

“They’re so lonely and beautiful.”

“What?”

“Parking lots. They’re always waiting.”

“What?” I laughed but not really.

“Arrivals and departures. They’re stuck in between. Like an elevator if you pressed all the floors at once.”

“I am coming to meet you.”

He continued. “I have to show you the most beautiful parking lot I found.”

“Elliot, you need water.”

Total distance eleven miles. Total time one hundred twenty-five minutes and fifteen seconds. Split pace eleven minutes and thirty-seven seconds per mile.

Not long into his twelfth mile, his legs wouldn’t allow him to run. He struggled to walk for a short while before he couldn’t move at all. An ambulance arrived and took Elliot Knox away from the race. They took him to South Shore hospital and pumped him full of fluids. The last thing he said before turning his microphone off was “keep the clock running”.

I parted ways with Juno. She was kind enough to stay with my stuff at the bar while I took a cab to South Shore. The cab drivers name was Kingston and he drove like Jeff Gordon. It felt as if the tequila sodas I consumed were very disrupted in my stomach. He took sharp turns through back roads and went fifty miles per hour on straightaways. I managed to keep from vomiting but not by much. When I got to the hospital there were two other marathon runners awaiting a room, apparently Elliot was bad enough they booked him right away.

I tried to make sense of everything a I walked the long corridors of lights and glares pasts room that smelled of insulin and disease. He only ran eleven miles… sure he drank alcohol the night before and probably didn’t hydrate but Elliot seemed healthy enough to run at least a half marathon and possibly walk another half. It wasn’t until I arrived at his room and the doctor informed that Elliot wasn’t healthy enough to run a marathon nor was he healthy enough to run a half marathon. I felt dizzy and delirious much like Elliot sounded when he was talking about parking lots and light bulbs. Everything went blurry. I felt worse than I did in Kingston’s cab. I could no longer hold back the vomit once the doctor informed me that my best friend was dying.

When I went into his room, he was lying in bed smiling as the IV drip nursed him back to hydration. I did not tell him what the doctor told me. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. Suddenly the jargon about light bulbs and parking lots made much more sense.

Parking lots are places that no one ever talks about. They’re not glamorous. They’re often quite the opposite. They hold no address, and they’re left off maps, it’s like they don’t exist. So full of exhaust and the pollution of strangers constantly arriving and departing. So full during the day and so empty and lonely at night. Painted in bird shit, chewed gum, and cigarette ash. Full of Styrofoam trash, and paper cups of smoke, and they carry the weight of the happiest hellos and the saddest farewells.

I sat down in the chair at his bedside, and he insisted he was not done running. He brought up the time I saved his life. He always makes so much more of it than it was. I don’t think I really did much, but I suppose it goes to show how much we are affected by one another. Not just our friendship but people everywhere. The little things make a difference. The slightest detail can change someone’s everything.

“I didn’t save your life Elliot. I just happened to be there.”

“Yeah. You were there when I did not want to be.”

“It was Christmas Eve, I was just dropping off a gift.”

“Not just a gift. You gave me a Blonde On Blonde signed vinyl… possibly one of the greatest records of all time, signed.” He laughed.

“I didn’t realize you liked it that much.” I said.

“I don’t. I like that I was going to kill myself that night and you showed up with a gift.”

I didn’t know how to respond when he said that, so naturally I said. “How come you didn’t tell me that you’re dying.”

“Everyone’s dying.” He replied.

“You’re dying quicker.” I said.

“Imagine if I could apply my speed at dying to running a marathon.” He joked.

“Yeah.” I said not knowing what to say.

“Look, life is a marathon. I have been running my whole life. I’m tired Paulie. The outlook isn’t good. I want to enjoy whatever time I have left.”

“Did you enjoy running the Boston Marathon?” I teased.

“That was miserable. But I have to finish it.” He sniffed his nose toward me. “You smoke?”

“I smoked three cigarettes. Yes.” I replied.

“You’re a smoker now?”

“Does three cigarettes make me a smoker?” I said.

“Does eleven and a half miles make me a runner?” He replied.

“God no.” I laughed.

There was a resounding pause after that laugh that I’ll never forget. It was as if I could feel him coming to terms with his mortality even though he showed no signs of vulnerability. I guess when you know someone well enough you can see through them. It was difficult seeing Elliot be weak. I had only seen him week twice in my life, once that Christmas Eve night, which we never spoke of after, and then today on this October afternoon so full of gloom.

Later that evening he felt stable enough to refuse any more treatment. I called us a cab and lo and behold, Kingston was our driver. Elliot enjoyed the ride much more than I did. When we got back to the hotel, Elliot vanished into his hotel room for the remainder of the evening. I walked back to the bar hoping to God that she would still be there. I felt almost out of body as I reflected on the day. I felt a little guilty that my life back home hadn’t crossed my mind. I found myself wanting to smoke one hundred cigarettes with the Goddess of Light, Juno, on a sidewalk in the dark.

I pushed open the heavy door and walked in to find that she was gone.

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spellbindingbeefcake · 7 years

Text

Magic Water

After almost facing the total embrace of a column, Fergus Fitzgerald is taken to the Lake, carried there by Wally Robinson to regain his strength. Even though both want to return to the Senate House and help, they need to rest first.

Wally could hear his heart the entire time while he waited for Fergus to come back up. He couldn't be sure of what the boys heritage was, though he knew it wasn't Poseidon. But Wally wasn't worried about where Fergus came from, he just wanted the guy to be okay. If his eyes weren't scanning the water they were back on the fire behind them. Wally actually felt tears start to prick his eyes, but for the sake of not becoming emotional, he wiped them away. He'd only just returned and already something bad had to happen. "Please be okay, Z," Wally muttered to himself. Patting the water, Wally kept his hand under and moved it around. "Fergus? Fergus! You okay?!" He was ready to jump in after the man; it'd been a few minutes and he was getting nervous.

Fergus allowed himself to close his eyes. He could hear the lake's spirit, he could hear every river and stream nymph around and he could feel his consciousness returning properly, the blood washing away. He stripped off of his shirt and undershirt so he could be closer to the water. Whatever he'd been feeling before, he had recovered and somewhat he felt even better as he had previously. Fergus often avoided swimming because he loathed his powers, because he couldn't control them properly but in moments like this, he couldn't ignore his nature. He went as deep as he could, breathing underwater came as a second nature and the water around him was welcoming, it'd probably been better if it was sea water but beggars can't be choosers. Wally's voice resounded as the man called upon the lake's surface so he swam back, unaware of the holographic blue-to-green scales covering his jawline, neck and shoulders as he popped out of the lake and sat by the man's side, feeling practically born again. "I'm great, are you?" He looked back over his shoulder only to see what was left of the burning forum and his gut twisted. "We need to go back."

Wally was, naturally, taken back by the sight that came upon him when Fergus resurfaced. "I uh," he frowned and tilted his head. "Fergus, are those um...." His attention was placed elsewhere when Fergus looked away. "No, you gotta stay here, just for the moment. We uh, we both do." Wally chewed on the inside of his mouth despite knowing he'd have sore gums come morning. A tender flesh were the least anyone's concerns though. He started to unlace his boots and slipped them off, placing them behind him on the sandy grass. "You have something on you, Fergus. It looks like scales." Wally then rolled up his pant legs and slowly moved himself into the water. He lay his hands flat on the waves and closed his eyes. "I just need a moment, just to regain my strength."

Fergus shifted his attention between the sorcerer and the burning buildings behind them and nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. Watching New Rome burn was painful and he couldn't believe this was happening right after Fides' festival. He allowed himself to gather strength as well, knowing that if he was going to do it again, he was in for a wild ride. Wally's comment about him however made Fergus lose focus from the burning city and he looked down on himself, there were scales over his chest too, down his arms, making a pattern of wave-like patches and he looked up, shrugging. "Happens sometimes." Well, it happened mostly whenever he went into the water, a probably side-effect of being half-sea-monster for all that mattered, his father had only spawned other Gods or Sea Monsters, clearly he wasn't any kind of God. "You should see me when I get gills." He joked lightly or at least tried to, considering how bad he was at doing it.

Wally's face turned up into a smile for a moment and he just busted out a short laugh. "Gills, really? That's awesome, Fergus." He just stared at him. In little moments like this, Wally was reminded of how wonderful it was to be a demigod, because even if terrible things happened, you were always, one-hundred percent unique and unlike anyone else. He swallowed back some nothingness in his throat and sighed. He closed his eyes and focused again on the water. "Tell me, do you get a tail too?" Wally spoke softly, under his breath. Violet lights shined out of his hands. "By the grace of your being, Poseidon, grant me this here and now, allow me to use what you have given us." The water started to shine around them and, seemingly slowly, Wally started to feel better. His thighs, which had been numb while running but burned when he stopped, began to feel better all together. "I'm glad you're okay. I'm uh, I'm glad to see you're still here, man."

Fergus looked a bit puzzled back at Wally and then he was reminded the sorcerer was a Greek - well, he knew very little about the man, mostly whatever Kolina shared and she was far more laid back regarding graecus than Fergus could allow himself to be but now was not the time for heritage grudges and things like so. Greeks had one thing he could appreciate like this, and it was the fact they didn't hate the sea and the ocean, that they weren't as afraid of water as most Romans were. Fergus looked away and simply moved a little back and forth in the water, submerging himself as much as possible and leaving only his head up so he could keep talking to the man that had helped him. "Poseidon." He groaned and clicked his teeth in distaste. "Tch." Not only it was a Greek name but it was also his father's hystorical oponent, it felt only right for him to hold a grudge. At the question about a tail, he even looked down to make sure it wasn't there - and it wasn't, then he nodded in a negative. "No tail." It had only happened twice and he wasn't so sure now he was an adult it would happen again. He looked back at the burning forum and back at Wally, finding it almost impossible to focus. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Wally didn't allow himself to get distracted by the noise he'd heard Fergus make while praying to the sea god. After just a moment of thinking about it though, it would have made more sense to pray to Neptune. As the water supplied him with the energy he needed, Wally hummed softly and waded his arms easily through the ripples. "You're welcome. I uh, I couldn't let you just stay there. I mean, it's just terrible." He had other questions about Fergus, mainly regarding the scales. "I can take you back to wherever you live, if you want?"

Fergus watched as the purple flames erupted and subdued the fire in the distance, that meant he was off the hook for another course of water. He looked back at Wally and shook his head. "I think this is the best place you could leave me, really." He waved dismissively, unsure if he was going to feel alright the moment he stepped out of the lake. "You can go, if you'd like, I'm going to wait for my cousins to show up, by the tent." He pointed at the pop up medical the legionnaires had set up only a few meters away. "Are you going to be okay?" Fergus wasn't the nicest nor the most careful person around always but he did care.

Wally brought his legs up to his chest and nodded, still staring at the scales, even if he felt it was a tad inappropriate. "I might wait around for a few more minutes. It's uh, it's nice to do this. I haven't really uh, connected with the water in a long time." He dipped his head again, wondering where Z was. Where Percy and Kolina were, if Kolina was even alright. His head picked back up when Fergus questioned him. He looked surprised. "I uh, I think so. I just, the fire reminded me of um," he pointed his thumb back over his shoulder towards the Senate House. "It just made me think of when Gaia attacked Camp Half-Blood. I wasn't really good back there. I just - it got me thinking of back then, ya know?" He ran his hands over his legs and straightened his back. "You know Kolina better than I do. Do you think she'll be okay?"

Fergus tried not to mind the fact he knew Wally was staring at the scales that showed through his body - he was too tired and too worried to let his mind sink into the gutter of thoughts he always had when it came to water and his relationship to it. Those were bad powers, he had a bad nature and he wasn't supposed to tap into it. "I haven't either." He replied absently, without even realizing what they were talking about, but it wasn't a lie by any stretch of it. Wally's response though had Fergus looking up and back into the water. "I was too young back then but I can only imagine." He had been ten years old, short of joining the Legion and while many of his family had joined in the war, Fergus was spared, staying home, hands curled on his laps, hoping his family and friends would survive and come back home. He raised an eyebrow again at the question. "She's a Centurion of the Twelfth Legion, she'll be okay." He liked to believe his own words, as if those titles and pompous words would save anyone from harm.

Wally nodded curtly and then looked around the water within their area. The glow had begun to diminish and he (quietly, this time) thanked the sea god, Neptune (this time) for the waters healing properties. The demigod looked impressed. "She's a centurion? That's incredible, I had no idea she'd become one." Wally patted his knees and started to stand up. "Hey, I uh, remember I gave you a nickname the last time I was in New Rome. Did I ever use magic to turn you into like a frog or something?" Had he, this would hopefully makeup for it.

Fergus looked puzzled back at Wally, how could he not know those things? But then again, he hardly knew this man and to Fergus, New Rome and the Legion were his whole life, he couldn't imagine a life that didn't revolve around those things, yet he knew the world was a vastly different place to others. "I have no memories of being a frog, I don't think you could turn me into one either." He responded cryptically - he was sure if a sorcerer wanted to turn him into any water-related creature it'd be easy but a serpent would've been much easier. "Take care, you." Fergus replied pointedly as he decided to just join the lake nymph in the bottom, he could come out later and pass out at the shore.

#para #chatzy para #chat: fergus #para: fergus

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ruetheend · 7 years

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BITTERBLOSSOMS - CHAPTER 5: SNOWDIN FOREST, IN THE FLESH.

The story so far: Frisk and Flowey have learned that the echo flowers blooming from Frisk’s head can show her memories to any who touch them. Frisk finds out that someone mysterious has been delivering supplies to the Dreemurrs without needing to enter the ruins conventionally. Finally, Frisk and Flowey overcome the Tori fight in a unique way. Now the duo must travel Snowdin Forest...

Click to read the chapter below.

Chapter 5

Author’s Note: Best read on AO3. For original readers of this fic who are wondering where all the chapters have gone, check out my update.

Frisk walked with Flowey along the path to Snowdin Forest. She was lost in her thoughts. First, there was the issue of who the king was around here. How had that happened? It sounded like now he was not the king anymore... Frisk's head hurt just thinking about it, so she tabled the thought for another time. Second, Frisk's last couple of treks to the forest did not go well. Frisk wasn't sure at first, but it was definitely Sans who had killed her the first time. So far, both of her deaths were due to Sans. Then a realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She paused right before the door to Snowdin Forest, where Sans would be waiting. Frisk did not save at all. Sans had not hesitated to kill her before, so it was safe to assume he would kill her outright again. As soon as she reached the bridge, she would turn around and he'd hit her with an attack. How could he manage to do something like that? What about a FIGHT? Would she and Flowey have to replay the same conversation with Tori and Asgore? It had warmed her heart the first time, but each time Frisk revisited a scene, it lost its power.

"What's with that dumb look? We are on a journey to... to do something about this mess!" Flowey grew his stem to block Frisk's view. She stopped walking. "What could possibly be the matter?"

"Well... the last two times I reset was because of Snowdin Forest. A monster killed me, the same one, twice." Frisk grimaced. It was Sans, though he was too tall to really be Sans. Frisk outgrew the short monster quite quickly once she had reached her teenage years. It was strange to think he was about a head or so taller than her now. She wondered, for a moment, if Papyrus would end up being short? She snorted at the thought.

"So you think you might die, and then you giggle," Flowey rolled his eyes. "Look, I think I have a way to solve this problem. Are you worried about resetting and having to deal with my mom again? We can just redo all that talking... but I understand. It isn't really very fun to do the same thing over and over." Flowey seemed to bounce around in his flower pot as he thought. "I guess I could... I've been saving up, but I can put down a save point for you."

"Huh?" Frisk jumped at his suggestion. "What? You can do that!?"

"Uh, yeah," Flowey smirked. "Where do you think all those save points from earlier came from? The stars? No! It was yours truly."

Frisk had to admit she was impressed by this. So that's where save points came from! Maybe that's why they were blue now instead of the familiar yellow? She gave him a defeated smile. "Ok, ok. So, you really will make one?"

"Yup! Leave it to me."

Outside the door, Frisk crouched onto the ground and put Flowey's flower pot down. Flowey seemed to jump into the snowy ground in one swift motion. She saw his head pop up from the hole he made. He seemed to concentrate fairly hard as he closed his eyes tightly. Frisk could sense heat rising into the air as he glowed a deep shade of blue. Afterwards, Flowey hopped back into the flower pot leaving behind a shiny, new save point. Frisk reached out to it and saved. Nothing felt different about using this versus the others.

"What's that face for?" Flowey gave her a sidelong glance.

"Huh?"

"You are making a face, what?" Flowey raised a brow. "Like you just ate a tasty slice of pie, or something."

"Huh, oh, uh," Frisk scratched her cheek. "I guess I just think... it's kind of amazing. I had run through the other Underground so many times... I never really just stopped and thought: Where did these shiny thingies come from?"

"Heh, heh," Flowey then clucked at her with his tongue, "You sweet, summer child. Just runnin' around and never thought about what's really going on."

"Oh hush," the human rolled her eyes as she lifted Flowey up and stood. "I have sometimes thought about it, you know... after we got out. It never really made a lot of sense, you know."

Flowey was about to say something when the world flashes white several times. Each time, Frisk's head hurt more and more. She brought a hand to her forehead, but each white flash seemed to reset her arm position. She felt like she could never reach her head. Finally, after some odd times, the flashing ceased. Flowey looked disturbed, "F-Frisk, y-you!"

The human's hand finally reached her head and felt a flower crown. There were no longer just a duo of posies, but instead at least a dozen flowers poking out from her skin and hair. Flowey frowned, "W-Why did you reset like that?"

"That wasn't me!" Frisk turned around quickly, expecting to see him. The Sans of this world. The one who killed her twice already, and possibly another twelve.

But there was no one behind her.

Frisk's entire body tensed. How could she have died so many times so quickly? He was incredibly powerful, yes... but not that powerful. Something wasn't right... Frisk had nothing else she could do except move forward. She walked along the familiar path. In fact, its familiarity felt eerie to her as she walked. The ruins were different enough, but it seemed like there was nothing off about Snowdin Forest so far aside from the murderous skeleton. Perhaps that was a difference enough.

Frisk whispered to Flowey, "What do you know about the skeleton here?"

"Skeleton? Is that who got you so many times?" Flowey remarked quietly.

"So you don't know him?" Frisk sighed.

"I only know about a few, and none of them would attack you like this..." Flowey said, his tone droll. They passed the stick, but it didn't shatter. Oddly enough, this unnerved Frisk more than if it would have gone ahead and broken. Flowey added, helpfully, "The king is a skeleton! Although, I think you knew that. Probably."

They reached the bridge that leads to the rest of Snowdin Forest. Frisk noticed this bridge still looked pretty shabby; more or less identical to the bridge Papyrus had created in her home timeline. She paused out of habit. "What are you doing!?" Flowey complained, but it was too late. A voice called out from behind them.

"heh. heh. hello, little lady," the voice spoke casually, as if they were all good, old friends. Ironically, Frisk felt it was true even if this wasn't her Sans. "you are a human, right? that's hilarious." Frisk turned to look down at him only to be reminded of his new height. She looked up instead. He was dressed like a grim reaper of sorts, though his robes were gray with navy motifs. Upon closer inspection, he was really just wearing a large hoodie and dark slacks with the delta rune emblem as opposed to a zipper. His face was completely obscured by the hood of said hoodie. She could see his white pinpricks within, glowing. "heh, you checking me out? i'm flattered." The grim-looking monster looked at the flower pot. "well i'll be... if it isn't my favorite little buddy. heh heh heh."

Flowey held completely still. Frisk couldn't see his face, but the flower's voice betrayed him, "You-you're not supposed to be here."

"yet here i am," The dark figure held his hands up and gestured to his chest with both. "in the flesh so to say, heh heh..."

"I guess some things never change," Frisk couldn't help but sigh. The hooded one tilted his head slightly.

"hmm? what do you mean by that, little lady? by the way," It seemed Sans was inspecting Frisk's face. "blue is a nice color on you." He gestured at the flowers on her head.

Frisk shuddered at the 'compliment.' Did he know about the curse? She took a deep breath. Things could be quite easy if she was just upfront with people. Especially Sans. With Sans most of all, in fact. Certainly, he would believe her. "I know who you are. We've met before."

"F-Frisk, don't-" Flowey began, but was interrupted.

"heh, let her chloro-fill me in," The skeleton folded his arms. It seemed to Frisk that he winked at her as a single pinprick went out inside the hood. "what do you have to say for yourself, little lady."

"My name is Frisk, and I know this will sound crazy," Frisk felt her heart thud in her throat. Just talking to Sans so casually felt wrong. After what she did to him, after everything that happened, Frisk felt forgotten feelings resurface. "I'm from another timeline. I came back to right a horrible wrong, and-" Frisk looked away from him and at the ground. Tears started to swell in her eyes. "And I am sorry about everything, Sans. I never meant for this to happen-"

"what. did. you. say?" The voice was measured and calculated.

"S-Sorry, I'm just-" She looked back up, but Sans was towering over both Frisk and Flowey. The human could make out the lower half of his face in his proximity. The smile was there, but seemed to just be a plastered on feature rather than genuine. She couldn't make out pinpricks in the hood anymore.

"did you just say..." Frisk could hear the struggle in his voice. He next uttered words that were completely unintelligible to her. " ?"

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that-" Frisk felt her face flush from embarrassment. She didn't know what he said, but more importantly, he drew away from her with a troubled groan. The human was about to say something more, but then he began to laugh.

"heh... heh heh... heh heh heh!" The tall monster laughed, each laugh growing louder and more hectic. "here i thought i finally found something interesting. well, well, that was a good laugh. i always enjoyed dark humor." He turned to face Frisk again suddenly, his hood falling to his shoulders revealing his skeletal head. He still had a round face and his smile was oddly real looking in that moment. Flowey shook in his flower pot at the sight.

"I'm sorry, Sans," Frisk replied softly. She truly meant it, though she felt her heartbreaking knowing that this was not the correct person to apologize to.

Suddenly, the skeleton flew into her face, his eye flashing yellow and blue. "you just said it again! what did you say!? say it again!"He grabbed her by the shoulders, gripping her tightly. The bone of his fingers dug into Frisk's skin, hurting her. She couldn't help but screech.

"Frisk!" Flowey fell to the ground, his flower pot shattering as it hit the snowy ground.

"Flowey!" Frisk winced at the pain and tried to look at her fallen friend, but Sans freed his other hand and grabbed her chin. He directed her attention at his face. "What! What do you want me to say? Sorry again?"

"no. you said... you said," He looked incredibly pained. He looked like he did when Frisk killed him. " ."

Still she couldn't hear that word, yet she had a good guess as to what he was saying. "Sans?"

Frisk felt his grip on her lighten slightly. Sans' expression became wistful and lost. Almost like a memory had overtaken him when she said his name. He wasn't looking at her anymore as his sockets darkened. It seemed more and more like he was about to cry.

That was when his eyes flared into life, yellow pinpricks searching her face. Sans' grip became deathly tight, and Frisk felt every part of her ache with pain. Frisk felt her SOUL pull from her body, but she couldn't look away from Sans' face. "how? how? you are going to tell me everything!"

Sans grabbed Frisk's wrist and dragged her away from the bridge. In that effort, they teleported elsewhere, some secluded spot Frisk didn't recognize. "Stop! You're hurting me!" She shouted at him. To his credit, he let go of her, but Frisk stayed on her guard. She wasn't about to let herself get duped by this guy. "What are you doing... what do you want from me?"

He kept his back turned to her. Frisk wasn't sure if this was an odd sign of trust, confidence in his own abilities, or all of the above. Sans spoke like they were two friends meeting again after a long time, "so, little lady, you know me. you know my name... hell, you can even say it. that is a luxury i don't even have anymore." His put his hands into his hoodie pocket and slouched a little bit. "so... you are from another timeline? that isn't quite right, i bet."

"I-I guess," Frisk slowly started to back away. "I guess you could say I'm from another universe. One like this one, but... a few things are different." As her boot crunched in the ground for the third step, Sans suddenly flung his arm back at her, a few warning shots in the form of magical bones landed right behind her.

"heh. you and i are old friends, right? you and me were best buds in that other universe, right?" Sans turned to face her. His smile looked truly happy, and it disturbed her. She didn't like being near him at all. "why else would you apologize to scum like me? why else would you remember me."

"Look, I'm sorry," Frisk put her hands together and nervously rubbed her palms. "I just want to help everyone go free again."

"'go free'?" He gave her an incredulous look. "what? like... the surface?"

"Yeah," Frisk nodded eagerly. This is where the conversation needed to head. "You see, that's what I was trying to say before... last time we were all on the surface and then something happened-" Frisk searched Sans' face, but couldn't bear to vocalize her thoughts. "Something really bad."

"and?" Sans crossed his arms and waited.

"And I... Okay, this is nuts, but I sometimes can travel through time. Its oddly specific, but I... I went back to erase the bad thing and ended up here." Frisk partially lied. That wasn't true. She had her curiosity sated which culminated into a genocidal hate spiral, but otherwise she couldn't tell Sans that. This one seemed remarkably proactive.

"i don't know if i can believe you," Sans shook his head. "another universe i can buy, but why should i believe your story. you have any evidence? trusting you might prove... frisky. heh..."

"Okay... so the flowers on my head... just touch one, okay?" Frisk blushed a bit and felt stupid for it. "Give me a second to think-"

Before she knew it, Sans crossed the distance and reached out to her head. He put a bony finger on her head.

"AH! THE GREAT OUTDOORS!" A tall, jovial skeleton jogged ahead of an exhausted looking duo. "COME ON, FRISK! I EXPECT THIS FROM MY LAZY BONE OF A BROTHER, BUT NOT YOU! LET'S GO! ONE MORE TIME, WE SHALL SHOUT TO THE SUN ABOUT HOW GREAT WE ARE!" Off he went, shouting excitedly about his greatness.

He left behind Frisk and the shorter skeleton, Sans. Sans wore an ironic tee that simply read "pun" on dark blue cloth. Frisk wore athletic gear, but even she had trouble keeping up with Sans' brother, Papyrus. She wondered aloud where he could get all that energy from. Sans merely shrugs.

"I'm just... so glad we are up here," Frisk smiled down at Sans. It took so long, so many deaths, so much trial and error, but Frisk had done it. Monsters were free and able to journey to the surface.

"heh, it sure is a sunny place up here," Sans replied as he stopped walking. He huffed and heaved a bit. "don't mind me. heh. my lung capacity isn't what it used to be."

"You don't have a lung... do you?" Frisk raised a brow, which prompted another shrug. "Any exciting new material since coming up to the surface?"

"sure. why was the skeleton looking for new friends?" Sans offered.

"Because she was bonely perhaps?" Frisk laughed a bit at how lame that joke was. "Come on, Sans, the surface has been open for a few months now... nothing cool to say about it?"

"hmm... no." Sans looked away from her. "listen kiddo, let's talk about something else. like how cool papyrus looks when he threatens to fight the sun now if he won't let the moon rise soon enough. i don't think he understands the concept of longer days in the summer."

"Sans," Frisk puts a hand on Sans' shoulder. She hated all his deflections. He was always hiding something from her, and it was beginning to piss her off. "What is wrong? We are on the surface! After like a zillion years, everyone is finally-"

"free? free to come hang out sometimes up here as long as no 'normal' people see us?" Sans' sarcasm was thick. Sans looked up at Frisk, "uh, kiddo?"

Frisk was tearing up. It was true that things sucked, but a selfish part of her had hoped that Sans would be one of the people thanking her everyday for opening the surface up to the monsters. Everyone seemed to be having an alright time despite the slow changes happening. Wasn't that to be expected? Monsters suddenly showing up was bound to freak most people out, right? "But... things are different right? At least they are better, right?"

"i'm sorry, frisk. i am not mad at ya," Sans sighed. "nothing has really changed, kiddo. i still wake up in my same bed. i still see snow outside my window. papyrus wakes me up every sunday to greet the sunrise, and i wonder if he realizes how puntastic that is." Frisk nodded slowly, wiping away her tears. Sans looked away from her. "i guess i just wonder... if humans were able to put us down there in the first place... what is gonna stop them from doing it again."

Sans pulled his hand away with a yank. He looked at his hand and back at Frisk.

"I wasn't ready!" Frisk shouted. "I wanted to show you something better-"

"the surface really has no promise, huh?" Sans muttered to himself as he looked back down at the hand that touched her. "it was just like he said it would be. humans oppressing us... huh, you know," Sans looked to Frisk, his expression light and friendly. "you kind of remind me of him. maybe that's why... i won't feel bad about doing this."

"Doing wha-?" Frisk lost her voice as she was suddenly surrounded by strange looking blasters. The human looked from them to Sans. "Why...?"

"i'unno... maybe to make me feel better," Sans shrugged, one of his eyes glowing yellow. They all went off before Frisk could react, killing her instantly.

"This is bad." Flowey immediately said as Frisk reset, holding Flowey once more. "This is really, really, really bad."

"What's wrong with him?" Frisk looked down at him. "You said you didn't know him!"

"I've never seen him without his hood on, okay!? I had no idea he was one of the skeletons down in this star forsaken place!" Flowey shouted back at her. "Look! He's... he seems a little different... a little less unhinged."

"That's less unhinged?" Frisk's face faulted as she turned around. She half expected to see Sans just standing there casually, but instead she saw nothing of the sort. "This is awful. He can instantly kill me... that isn't even fair."

"Okay, so... that guy... the last time I saw him before I just started to hang out in the ruins with my parents, well... I saw him in the CORE area. He was always shouting things, but I didn't really ever understand a word he said. He would randomly kill me a bunch too!" Flowey rubbed his face with a leaf. "Ugh, he killed some random people in the CORE too. I reset a buncha times trying to save them all. It worked..." Flowey hesitated a bit. "For the most part, anyway. He seemed to REALLY hate my freaking guts though."

"This just doesn't make any sense. Why would Sans-"

"Huh?"

"Hmm.. Can you not hear this word: Sans." Frisk tested Flowey.

"Apparently not."

"Wow, that's... really confusing." Frisk tapped her foot for a moment, then it dawned on her. "Okay... I think this should still be true... in my universe that skeleton was related to Papyrus. Er, you know, the king of this place."

"What!?" Flowey's brow raised. "No, no, you must be joking. That's not very funny, Frisk!"

"Why the heck would I joke about this?" Frisk sighed. "Look, that's the truth okay. Do you want to touch a flower to see?"

"No, no, I believe you. Besides, I don't want to see that guy anymore..." Flowey grimaced as he realized that wish would probably not come true at all. "What are we going to do... you saved out here of all places."

"Only one way to go..." They both looked at the trail that led deeper into the forest. They sighed in unison, then Frisk began walking.

The two of them were silent as she moved. Frisk and Flowey were both mentally exhausted from dealing with Sans, so when the heavy branch snapped behind Frisk, her heart started to pound. She moved a little faster, and Flowey looked over Frisk's shoulder. He couldn't make out the figure following them at all. The flower started to tap Frisk's shoulder repeatedly and urgently.

"Frisk, Frisk, it's... it's got tentacles!" Flowey shouted as he shrunk back into his flower pot, when he said that, Frisk was frozen in place.

Tentacles, what the hell? She turned around at the bridge to see what the heck Flowey was talking about. Instead of tentacles, Frisk saw a small figure.

The small figure stood at Sans' height. The height Frisk was used to on the other Sans, but that was where the similarities ended. Whatever it was, it wore a white, bunny mask with long ears that pointed straight up. They wore a red hooded cape of some kind that managed to cover their entire body. The only sign Frisk could make out of what might be behind the mask was tufts of black hair that poked out from behind the mask. Before anyone could say anything, Frisk exclaimed at the top of her lungs:

"Who the hell are you?"

#undertale fanfiction #undertale #undertaleau #bitterblossoms #bitterblossomsAU #flowey #frisk #sans #snowdin forest #eventual frans #frans

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8cetera · 7 years

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Hush (Part Two)

Barba x Reader Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven Finale

You sit up on the bed abruptly, startled by the loud vibration coming from the wall behind you. You rub your eyes trying to get used to the noise combined with the sunlight slipping through the curtains.

The vibrations were so fierce that it made your watch move across the bedside table. When the drilling stopped, you hoped that meant that they were finally done. The clamorous sounds were replaced by the harmonious chirping of robins on the other side of the window.

A sound you very much preferred.

You pull the soft sheets to cover your body, suddenly mindful of the quaint chilly air. You slowly slide back down on the bed, eager to rid your thoughts of the interruptions to your sleep.

The moment your head touched the pillow, however, the drilling noise had returned, seemingly louder than before. You lifted the blanket so that it covered your head, and groaned in irritation.

“They’ve been at it for two days.”

You lowered the blanket just enough to peek at the person next to you. Rafael’s eyelids remained closed, making you wonder how long he had actually been awake. He craned his neck slightly, and interlaced his fingers before placing them on his abdomen. You smiled at the small shimmy movement he made to try and make himself more comfortable.

Clearly you weren’t the only one in denial about not being able to sleep a bit longer. Not that it surprised you. You were almost sure even Rafael could not remember the last time he actually slept in.

Rest would be good for him, you thought, as you took mental note of the dark circles under his eyes and his hollow cheeks. You survey the stubble that decorated his jaw, a pleasant combination of dark and gray hairs that grazed your skin when you kept your bodies wrapped against one another.

You move closer to him to place a chaste kiss on his bare shoulder. A part of you still questioned this reality; lying here by his side, waking up to the sounds of construction work together. You wondered if you were being too bold, and if you were jinxing it if you admitted that this was beginning to feel like a perfect morning?

“It’s been such a pain.” He continued, turning his head towards you and squinted his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room. “At least in the office I could avoid most of it.”

You chuckled and swung your legs off the bed. Admitting defeat knowing you could no longer go back to sleep, and surrendering to the grumbling of your stomach alerting you that it was time for food. You grab a t-shirt, a pair of leggings and the toothbrush that was on top of your suitcase.

After coming out of the bathroom, you decide to voice your curiosity.

“Speaking of which, how much time are you taking off? How long must the city survive without you?”

Adding a purposeful dramatic flare to your question you turn to Rafael hoping he’d find humor in it. However, all you found was a blank expression looking back at you.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Slightly confused at his serious tone but not wanting to question him at that moment, you offer to make the coffee, knowing it was something you both surely needed first thing in the morning.

“You’re the best, thank you. Do you need help?” He pushes himself up the bed and leans against the headboard.

“Ah-ah.” You said, motioning with your finger for him to stop getting out of bed.

“You showed me where everything was last time. I’ll be fine.”

After setting up the french press, you open the fridge to see if you could find any food you could prepare for breakfast. Much to your disappointment, all that you could find were salad ingredients, a clementine, and half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

You shook your head wondering how long it’s been like this.

You grab the mugs from the cabinet and began pouring the coffee, the aroma of the dark roast immediately putting you in a better mood. You were halfway done with the first mug when his landline began to ring. You called out his name, but seconds after it rang the noises of drilling resurfaced. You attempted to call him out again, and louder this time, but there was no use. You set the french press down and quickly lift the cordless off to bring it to him but paused when you heard that it had gone to voicemail.

“Darn it.” You whispered.

You set the phone back into its handle just as the beep sounded.

“Mr. Barba, it’s Carmen-”

You smiled at the sound of her voice, reminding yourself to visit his office so you could see her again.

“I know you said not to call you at home but Lieutenant Benson dropped by twice today to ask why you aren’t answering your cell phone-”

You tilt your head. That’s strange, you thought, why wouldn’t he be answering her calls?

“She said, and I’m quoting- just because you’re on suspension doesn’t mean you have to go completely off the grid.”

Carmen must have said two or three sentences before ending the voice mail, but you couldn’t remember most of it. Something about calling her back and a file that she needed to send to another DA.

You attempted to rationalize the situation. It had to be a mistake. An unworldly misunderstanding. You would accept that that was the case from either you or him. It had to be. What else was there?

You see both your hands shake as you reach for the mugs. You try your best to steady them as you walk back into the bedroom. Ignoring the fear and worry that was growing steadfast within you.

You sit cross legged at the end of the bed and hand Rafael his mug. He looked so pleased, slipping his thumbs through the handle so he could hold the mug with both hands. He brought the mug close to his face, breathing in the steam and letting out a deep breath before finally taking a sip to fulfill the satisfaction.

Now that you were both wide awake, you couldn’t help but notice more about his appearance. His hair was now standing up from all directions, and you could see the imprints that the pillows made on his chest. Thinking longer on it, you realized that it almost looked like a map.

Rafael leans in to give you a kiss on the lips, the kind of kiss you never wanted to end.

“There’s nothing like the first cup.”

His voice brought you back to reality. The reality that involved you deciding how you were going to bring up what you had heard in the kitchen. You take a sip of the coffee before starting, appreciating the flavor and letting it momentarily soothe your nerves.

“What made you decide now, Rafael? To take time off, I mean.”

You mentally scolded yourself. Were you trying to catch him in a lie?

This wasn’t fair to both of you.

He looked away from you and set the mug on the table.

“No reason. I guess I just felt like it was time.” That’s one lie, Rafael.

“There has to be. The last time you called me while I was in Tokyo you said you were building a case with that app creator. So what, that just disappeared?”

“Y-yes.” That’s two.

You begin to try and memorize the moment; his actions, his expressions. Regrettably, you also tried to remember if any of them were familiar to you.

You try and remember if he’s lied to you before.

He jumps out of the bed and heads to his closet, pulling out a cotton shirt and slipping it on. He crosses his arms and exhales loudly before continuing.

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly asking me all these questions. I thought you’d be happy to know that I was taking a break. You’re always telling me I work too hard, and that I don’t know how to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. What exactly is the probl-”

“Why are you lying to me?”

The words that came out from you were unexpectedly loud and harsh.

“What?”

“Carmen called earlier.” You said in a softer tone.

All the blood from his face seemed to have transferred to the bottom of his body. He also seemed to have trouble keeping his mouth closed after hearing what you said.

“I tried calling out for you, but her call went to voicemail; and well, she left a voicemail. Olivia is worried about you, she’s wondering why you’re off the grid during your suspension.”

“I told her specifically not to call, why doesn’t she-.” He must have thought he was mumbling to himself, but you caught the words.

“She’s not to blame for this, Rafael.”

He could only stare at you, and you could almost see his mind trying to formulate a response.

“Listen-” He held his hands up, looking at you as if you were about to pounce on him. The sight baffled you, but you continued to sit on his bed calmly.

“I am listening, Rafael. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just needed some time. It’s been a hectic couple of days, the DA has hounded me for days leading up to yesterday, with questions that all mean the exact same thing. We’ve been trying our best to keep it out of the press, or I’m sure you would have heard by now.”

Silence was all you had, and so silence was all you could offer. You used your thumbs to trace the ring of the mug, trying your best to gather your thoughts. It didn’t help that Rafael was pacing the room, eyeing you ever so closely to prompt a response.

“I was going to tell you,” He repeated, massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I just-”

“I just needed a distraction.”

Rafael’s eyes were not on you, but if they were he would have seen what his words had done. You feel your shoulders weaken and the hairs rise from your neck. Oh, and the ache. Who knew that a few words could feel as though your heart was being stomped on repeatedly by a person you cared for so deeply. His words confirmed all the fears and doubts you had about being together.

You unfold your legs and stand up from the bed. You put you your arms around yourself, and as difficult as it was to do, you to look at him and say the words.

“I think I should go.”

“Perhaps you should.”

The moments that followed the aftermath of both your words were nothing but cold and silent.

The fact that it was your suggestion didn’t make it hurt any less. The disappointment you felt was an assurance that you still had a small glimmer of hope tucked away. That was long gone, now.

“I’ll call a cab.”

At this point, you just wanted him to stop speaking. Hearing that voice, the voice that could cheer you up at any given time, that same voice was now the source of such profound strain that you could hardly bear.

The farewell wasn’t difficult. It was brief, as it was lifeless.

Although it ended with a promise of a future meeting, it didn’t feel as though the meeting would be looked forward to. Even after insisting that he need not to, he still walked you down and placed your luggage in the cab’s trunk.

No embraces and no kisses.

He simply held your hand gently. Holding his as well, you tried to read his emotions. If you knew him as well as you thought, you might have guessed that it was regret that you read in his face.

You knew, however, that that could very well be farthest from the truth.

Five minutes into your journey home you allowed your tears to fall. The cab driver glanced at you from his rear view mirror, but you paid no attention. You continue letting them fall, observing the odd shapes they made on the bottom of your shirt.

You felt some solace and pride that Rafael didn’t see those tears fall.

During a stop light you look out the window and notice a bakery at the corner of the street. With the cab windows rolled down you could smell croissants that must have just come out of the oven. It was wonderful.

Before you could take another whiff, the cab started moving and you found yourself farther and farther away from the bakery.

You cried harder now, as you found yourself unable to erase a singular image ingrained in your mind. The image of the miserable looking clementine located at the back of his fridge.

As much as you knew you were going to regret it your next course of action, you knew you would regret it more if you didn’t.

“Excuse me, sir? Could you please turn the cab around.”

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