#and I think a lamb fits better anyway for what I’m planning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alyjojo · 3 months

Text

March 🌞 2024 Monthly - Taurus

Preshuffle: You’ve been going over something in your head, why someone won’t work with you, cooperate with you, why are they being unfair to you? I’m getting it’s not even about you, or it’s just unfair. Some people suck sometimes, and that’s all there is to it. But you’ve carried this with you for a long time and have either reached a new perspective as you’ve healed, or that’s the goal now. Could be regarding a parent.

Meditation: Your door was on the hill of a beautiful meadow, pretty white flowers all over the ground, and a lamb outside of the door. There was a baby something too, I can’t remember what, another lamb perhaps. Inside your door, there was a snarling lion 🦁 in mid leap, I just screamed and slammed the door. I think the saying is “in like a lion out like a lamb”, but here it’s switched.

Main energy: Page of Wands

For some this is gonna be really deep, for some it’s work, and for others it’s more like a refreshing self-care moment. Page of Wands clarified by The Star is a giddy excitement, you definitely know yourself and the path you’re meant to be on, it fills you up with joy and happiness. *Now* because you’ve probably been through a lot of shit, it’s shown you’ve healed from that. No matter which lane this goes down for you, you’re excited for your future, in a happy and growth centered way. You can see how you’ve changed over the years and like where this is going, directing things towards even more healthy outcomes with Organization and Order, you are the one in charge of your life and how this goes. I don’t see toxic or control, just earth energy, abundance, The Empress, it’s beautiful. The Emperor is at the bottom and marriage is here too, some of you are married, some might be getting married, some are just healing from a past marriage or parents’, maybe children, and it’s over with, some phase of life is anyway. You’re still moving along beautifully, excited for what comes next.

What’s going on in March:

6 Cups rev:

You’ve healed from very painful things in the past, we all have them. Temporary connections, people that moved, people that changed, things we had to leave behind or things that left us behind. Probably several. Ace of Pentacles clarifies showing real potential, a solid opportunity for something, and Page of Wands can show communication. This could be a really healing sort of conversation that brings closure to some things, either with an old friend or a matriarch in the family, mother/aunt/grandmother etc. You could be healing wounds you didn’t even know still existed. For some this could be a spouse or ex spouse. If a marriage is ending, or has, you’re not pressed anymore, Relaxation and The Empress both show you know your worth, so someone either fits with you or they don’t, or didn’t, it doesn’t change how you’re growing, or you’re grateful in the ways it has.

For work, you probably got screwed over in the past, had to heal from a job that didn’t work out for whatever reason, or you didn’t get that opportunity you had your heart set on. But then something else came, or something else is coming, Ace of Pentacles, that is going to make you see why it’s better *this* way. You’re excited for it, you can see limitless options now, or you will in March 🌺

7 Cups:

Limitless potential! You could be confused about which path to take, but you’re excited nonetheless. Ace of Wands & Page of Pentacles clarify, you’re excited to plan - heavy earth energy here. You may not know exactly what goes where and how or when you’re gonna do xyz, there’s a lot of planning to be done. But this is a new beginning you have reason to feel a fire 🔥 relit under your butt, you’re motivated, inspired, and I’m hearing SpongeBob yelling out “I’m READY!” 😆 Page of Wands again at the bottom, something has shown you your purpose, maybe not the details but you’ve got Organization & Order, both earth energies, I think you’ll be fine sorting through those cups.

5 Wands rev:

You could be mending fences with someone you’ve fallen out with, if there’s been an argument or standoff with someone, that’s healing. Some of you are simply refusing to deal with jealous or competitive types of personalities, The Empress is a glow up, she’s beautiful, worth the effort, and knows it. It’s not beauty in a way that’s in your face, she just is, male or female, you’re dressing how you want, looking how you want, maybe buying new clothes or changing your hair, getting a new tattoo, or lip injections if that’s your thing, or just working out and working on your health & body, all beauty related things can fall under Empress territory. You don’t care how it’s perceived, and if that’s negative it’s like “now you know” - avoid that person. Unhealed. Petty. You’ve healed a lot of things privately, spiritually, inwardly, and you keep it to yourself. If not beauty, this can be a mother figure of some kind, or even your own children if they exist, you could come across a situation that triggers an old wound you’re healing from, or are realizing you already have. Things are different now, better. Work related things where competition is the vibe, isn’t your thing. You don’t chase after that (or anything) but you allow what’s meant for you to meet you when it’s time, and you’ll accept this Ace of Pentacles opportunity you’re being given.

The World:

It’s beautiful 🥹 Best reading this month so far (I’ve only done three but it’s hard to beat). The World is the end of a whole cycle, could just be an argument, could be competitive vibes with someone or feeling insecure or like you have to be something you’re not, no. Self Care is at the bottom of the oracles, you’re not giving to anything that’s not giving to you, and you’re not reciprocating toxic bs either - you’ll just walk away, remove yourself, 8 Cups. You deserve better than that. What does give to you, healthy emotions, actual gifts maybe, support, kindness, your cheerleaders, you’ll just take all of that love & double it, triple it, turn it into gold - that’s what The Empress does. Birthing creativity, art, business growth and ideas (or kids) into reality, growing and beautifying what exists into even better than it was.

The Empress:

Clarified by THE 👏 MFN 👏 SUN 👏 byeeee Taurus, you don’t even need me here 🧡 You’ve learned the lesson/s. Some of you are even discussing some of the things you’ve been through, observed, struggled with, bringing light to the pain you’ve endured and overcome. All with positive intent, especially for those healing a connection of some kind. Idk about the other person/s involved, you’re doing your part to be positive and do right by you, attempt healing something that’s fallen out or someone that’s acted out perhaps, shining light on issues for the purpose of growth. Could be a parent, grandparent, child, childhood friend, school mate, spouse, whoever. Some of you are getting the positive attention you’ve worked for and deserve, maybe even a promotion or some financial benefit, I don’t see you having to do much to even get this. You know your worth and so do others, your flowers are coming 💐

Signs you may be dealing with:

Taurus, Scorpio, Leo, Libra & Aquarius

Oracle: ✨

18 It’s All Good 😌

Every experience you have in your lifetime has the potential to be a teaching tool. By remembering and embracing this idea, the situations you encounter become less fraught with unneeded emotion and drama. By not attaching labels or expectations for people and situations, you allow the pure divine energy to flow unimpeded. While you have little control over what happens to you at times, you always have control over how you react. Do you react on an impulse? Strike out at others when you feel hurt? Do you crawl into your safe place when the world seems mean and hurtful? Face this challenge in your life head on. Be thankful for the opportunity to experience whatever it is that is happening. Set yourself a goal of learning from every situation in your life. Find that silver lining. It’s there.

Marriage 💍

Sweet Love - Couple - Dependency

Relaxation 😌

Peace - Tranquility - Easiness

Organization - Mercury Capricorn

We enter into March as:

Rhonda Rhino of Amethyst 🦏:

“The road to divinity is paved in forgiveness.”

The true essence of Rhonda is that her dreams came true because she never harbored resentment, this card is about forgiveness. Because she didn’t take her mother’s suffering personally, she didn’t have to work it out. There is a lightness to staying reasonably detached from another’s anger & pain. We only need to forgive ourselves if we have judged others. Rhonda focuses on what her dream is, not what others have done to her, she is the essence of goodness and forgiveness, nothing changed that about her.

What is to be learned in March:

Princess of Amber 👸🏽:

“I quietly sizzle and shine.”

You are connecting with your passion. It is time to focus on the task at hand and not divert your attention. If you are being of service to others, you will reap great rewards. This is a sign of great abundance with selflessness. Put your eye on the work and not the rewards. You’re also being urged to stand up for what you believe in. If you are being asked to compromise yourself, you must not. You are correct to feel passionate about your position, you know intuitively what a fair request is. When your intentions are good and true, you will always land with two feet on the ground. You may be up against pretty big odds, but you mustn’t give in to what you know is not correct. Others see your worth, it’s time for you to, and have faith that you are doing the right thing.

Orange/Amber may be lucky colors 🧡🤎

#Taurus #monthly tarot reading #march 2024 #monthly #tarot #astrology

7 notes · View notes

kodraken · 3 years

Text

dark necessities.

pairing ✮ eren jaeger x fem!reader

synopsis ✮ you're too good for his liking, so eren shows you a thing or two about being bad

wc ✮ 2.5k

warnings ✮ nsfw, modern!au, dubcon, marijuana use, manipulation, reader is a smart little lamb and eren hates it, shotgunning, corruption kink, degredation, praise, daddy kink, dry humping, fingering, overstim, squirting, cream pie, dumbification.

Eren Jaeger had never seen you like this.

Knee deep in the billowing haze of smoke emitting from the worn down joint resting comfortably between his fingers, you compliantly straddled his lap with a dazed simper on your face. No matter how hard you tried to mask it, the unpleasant fumes pricked your skin, causing the slightest tremble in your mouth and an uncomfortable feeling of tears welling up in your dilated eyes. But Eren was a natural, watching amusedly as you choked on your upcoming cough.

How did you even end up here?

You should’ve known not to agree to Eren’s proposal to work at his apartment instead of the library; but you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You obviously preferred to please people, and Eren happened to take notice of that the second he saw you squirm uncomfortably in your seat when your professor mentioned your unlikely partnership with him. Instead of asking to switch or maybe even work alone like the smart girl he assumed you were, you froze like a deer in the headlights and followed along.

Halfway through your work session, Eren pulled out a corroded lighter, lining it up with the small joint that sat slack in between his teeth. You didn’t say anything, opting to fold your hands in your lap and ignore what you just saw.

“You don’t smoke?” He rose a brow at your sheepish mannerisms. Just when he thought you couldn’t act any more innocent, you never failed to surprise him; this was just the cherry on top of the cake. He shrugged nonchalantly before igniting the stuffed tip with a hint of feigned disappointment in his voice. “Probably couldn’t stand it anyways.”

Poor you was so eager to please that you were unaware of the fact that you’d fallen right where he wanted you.

A tiny giggle escapes from your lips as you feel Eren’s smoke fan your face, the mixture of mint and seared weed making your nose scrunch up cutely. The same large frame glasses that made your doe eyes appear ten times bigger seemed to slide down your heat flushed face with every passing minute before finally stopping at the tip of your nose bridge. He takes the initiative to carefully pull them from your face and set them down nearby before placing his free hand on the curve of your waist.

“Gimme my glasses ‘ren…” You slur out, dragging your hips against the crease of his crotch with hopes that he’d fix them back on your face himself.

“You don’t need them.”

“Really?” You look up at him through your fluttering lashes, trusting every word that comes out of his mouth. At this point, it’s as clear as day to him that you currently don’t have a proper thought running through your head – too immersed in the new feeling of being high to care much about anything. He hums in response to your question, securing his unyielding grip on your waist and steadily grinding you onto his hardened crotch.

“Can I take another hit?” You breathe out.

A sigh doesn’t fail to escape from Eren’s lips as he gives you a worried look, running a calloused hand through his hair. “You want another one? I’m not sure you can handle that.” In reality, he’d pay to see the priceless expression on your face when you inhale too much and sputter out air – but he keeps that to himself.

“I can!”

Eren concludes that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you. He takes a drag of the nearly lifeless joint, accentuating it with a dramatic heave and holds your face in between his ring clad fingers before smashing his lips against yours, letting the haze drift into your mouth. He feels a sense of pride watching you capture the smoke and leisurely exhale it back in his direction with a playful giggle. He can’t help but think you look prettiest like this, slumped against his torso with blown pupils and a slightly ajar mouth, babbling incoherent nonsenses that would normally never leave those pretty lips of yours. Truthfully, he likes you stupid, pure and white hearted — leaving him with the perfect chance to corrupt and turn you into a cock hungry whore.

“How about that baby?” He coos, brushing the stray strands of baby hair out of your face. By now, the skirt you’re wearing is bunched up at your hips, putting your white panties right on display for his prying eyes. He hungrily palms at the fat of your ass, dragging you across his lap like a ragdoll.

“Don’t– don’t call me baby....’m not your baby Eren.” You shake your head while bringing your hands to his naked torso in an attempt to steady yourself. A loud whimper falls from your mouth as you instinctively jerk against his body; you were growing more sensitive by the second, hyper aware of the defined bulge straining against his pants.

“You don’t like that?” He quips teasingly. You can barely even process when he pulls you off of him and turns you around. The force is enough to put you on all fours, propping your lower half up for him to see the damped spot resting in the middle of your crotch. You swallow thickly, feeling his fingers dig back into your ass. Eren is unpredictable, and you learn this the hard way when his index finger innocuously dips beneath your panties and teases your puffy cunt. He groans as he drags your slick along your folds. “Do you prefer this instead? Yeah? Fuuuck, look how wet you are for me.”

“Feels good Eren…”

“Well would you look at that?” His voice is heavy with lust as gently tugs your panties to the side and watches his two fingers scissor your hole. “Getting off on my fingers like a fucking slut. I knew that little innocent shit you had going on was an act.”

“S-shut up! You’re so mean… hah–!” You can barely even come up with a sensible retort–his fingers feel like a foreign intrusion. You’d gotten yourself off before but his fingers were so much bigger than yours, dragging against your gummy walls and hitting usually unreachable places with each thrust. It’d be a lie to say that you weren’t enjoying this as much as the next person, mewling and whining for as much as you could possibly take, much to his pleasure.

“Mean? Oh you haven’t seen mean.”

Eren watches your face through a nearby mirror, basking in your dazed out expression and heavy lidded eyes. He knows that you need him by the way that you rut yourself back in a desperate attempt to fuck yourself; but you’ll never be satisfied with just that, so he takes it upon himself to help you. It’s hilarious, truly, watching you wiggle and move your hips in search of his retracted fingers; you usually never sought out what you wanted, yet here you were, practically begging for it.

You want to say something but the way Eren’s hands travel across the expanse of your body to shrug off your top forces the words bubbling up in your throat back down. It’s a laughable contrast, how his calloused hands fit around your soft curves and crevasses – you shouldn’t be doing this. Eren doesn’t seem to care too much, unclasping your bra and quickly tossing it to the side, taking a mound in hand and kneading it harshly.

“What are you doing ‘ren…” You ask with a strained voice, feeling his heavy tip leisurely drag along your folds, gathering slick before prodding at your constructing hole.

Fuck – he’s growing impatient, his tip an angry red with tiny beads of white smearing with your wetness. Eren’s unashamedly fixated on the difference between your tight cunt and his veiny cock. “Calm down baby, I’m gonna make you feel even better.” He murmurs, making sure to be gentle as he presses your upper half into the mattress – an ironic contrast to his plans to fuck you dumbber than you currently were.

Eren wastes no time in grabbing his cock by its base, sliding it into your hole. He spreads your ass, watching contently as it disappears into your puusy inch by inch. “Shit, your cunt looks fucking pretty taking me in, I love it baby.” It’s difficult for him to resist the burning urge to piston right into you and hear those pretty moans.

“So big...feels huge.” You’re not lying; you can barely get accustomed to the stretch, eyes widening at the feeling of every prominent vein brushing your fluttering walls.

“Aw, don’t tell me that you can’t take it?” He chuckles when you squirm around him, tiny whines falling from your mouth when he bottoms out. He stills himself inside of you, admiring how you frantically shake your head “no” – you’re trying so hard not to mess up and be good enough for him. “That’s my girl.” he marvels, pulling out to the hilt before languidly thrusting, hips rolling hard against your ass. The pace is agonizing to him; admittedly, he wants to hear you sob, and he’s come too far to stop now. Growing impatient, he gradually picks up the pace, quickly snapping into you and filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin slapping.

“Oh fuck, Eren–!” You moan, clinging to the sheets as he rammed into you, your juices coating his cock and spilling down your folds onto the bed. While you’re unable to see his face with the way his hand sits on your head, pushing you down even more, you can practically sense the grin on his face – so sweet that it's almost sinister.

Every thrust is harder than the last, sending you teetering forward as his pelvis juts against your bruising ass. You can barely contain your loud sobs, his cock was brushing your cervix – you could barely imagine how big he was.

“‘S good, s-so big!” You breathe out. God, you look pretty like this, splayed out beneath him with your back in an irregular arch and drool seeping out of your mouth to soil the fabric.

Eren leans down until he’s flush against your warm body, hands placed on both your sides and caging you in. His pace doesn’t let up as he brings his mouth to your ear, his hot breath that fans across your skin feeling like electricity flowing straight to your clit. “You’re gonna take it all, right? You’re gonna be a good slut and let me fuck you as I please– you want to please me dont you?”

“Yes daddy!” You aren’t even thinking as you wail, reaching out to hold one of his arms as he continued fucking into you. You’re way too gone to even register the way his hips momentarily falter.

He smiles wickedly at the new name you’ve given him–he always knew that you had it in you, but you just needed a little push. “Daddy? You’re so fucking nasty.” His words are so insulting and vulgar, yet they only leave you wanting more, clenching around his cock and sucking him back in. “I’m fucking you stupid and thats the first thing you call me.” He laughs at your needy stature, licking a stripe up your neck and biting at the soft skin.

“G-gonna cum – gonna cum on your cock daddy.” You whimper pitifully, feeling yourself closer to your edge as you become more twitchy against him.

“Go ahead and cream on my dick pretty girl, cum right on me.” His pace doesn’t let up, slipping right back into your sopping cunt and fucking your weak hole. The loud and long mewl that your let out when you reach your high is so erotic – pornographic, even. You claw your fingers into his skin as your body locks up, causing him to hiss from the sudden pain.

“You should be thanking me for giving you my cock.” He starts coldly before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you upright against his body to show you how slutty you look in the mirror in front of you. Your eyes are trained on the place where your bodies meet, the way his cock slips into your cunny with a loud squelch and the translucent ring of your slick around his girth. It’s safe to say that you can barely recognize yourself when you take note of your face; there's drool strung on the bottom half of your face, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and onto your swollen lips, and your tits are bouncing with every sudden motion.

Eren can’t help but smile cockily at his handiwork; you’re only listening to him, babbling small ‘thank you’s and ‘please’s. Your head is in a fog, unable to even process what you’d originally come here for, only focused on getting stuffed full by your project partner. He stretches his arm across your shoulder to bar you to his body as his thrusts become more frantic, balls rhythmically slapping up against your clit.

Your head lolls back against his neck and you’re able to look into his darkened eyes with nothing but adoration. “Love your cock daddy– fills me up!”

He could cum just at the sight of you, feeling you grind your hips in desperation. “Addicted, aren't you? You’d die for this dick without a second thought yeah?” Not even waiting for a proper response, he catches your mouth with his own, biting and tugging at your lips; he’s going to ruin cock for you to the point where you can only go back to him in order to feel this way – for real satisfaction.

His free hand dips down to your cunt, two fingers circling at your clit with the slightest amount of pressure. “Too much, too much! ‘M gonna cum again–!” You beg, desperately trying to move his hand away, but your efforts are to no avail – he’s shown you that he’s stronger than you, continuing his attack on your overstimulated bud.

“Shhh baby, take it like a good girl.” He coaxes; your cunt is too addicting for him to give up.

Your tightening walls milk him for all that he’s worth as he rutts into you at a mind-breaking speed and soon enough you’re tensing up again; but this time it feels different, eyes widening in surprise as you feel your juices squirt all over his cock and thighs, making a noticeable mess on his bed. “Daddy” is all that follows after your loud moan, slumping against Eren’s body like a fucked-out doll.

He knows that you can hold out, which is why he peppers kisses to your neck and jaw as his hips become more erratic against your worn out body. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” You don’t miss his moans as he pounds into you a few more times. You tiredly nod at his words as they all blur together into one incoherent mess.

“Gonna fill up your pretty cunny– shit.” He groans, stilling himself and shooting thick ropes of his load into your cunt, staining your walls white. He slowly slips out of you, muttering soft praises against your skin as he watches his cum languidly drip out of your abused hole. To say he’s satisfied with the way that you jerk and twitch is an understatement;

he thinks that you’re fucking stunning.

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot smut #eren yeager smut #snk smut #snk x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager x reader #tw.dubcon #tw.manipulation #tw.drugs #attack on titan smut

803 notes · View notes

hozierandco · 3 years

Text

Henry Cavill x Reader / Lessons / SMUT

A/N: Henry has to learn how to play golf for a film but his teacher may teach him a bit more than golf. In which Henry is a clumsy cinnamon roll. Inuendos intended, sorry not sorry. SMUT: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, teasing, cursing, cumshot. Read at your own risk.

For the sake of a film in which he would play an aristocrat, Henry had to know how to play golf. He had agreed to it though he never had one single piece of knowledge on the matter.

Him who had done life-endangering stunts was not going to abandon for golf. He had three weeks before the beginning of the set and had decided to spend his holidays at a golf resort off in Scotland where he was determined to master the skills to that sport.

Y/N had been working at the Baurheid Club for the past five summers. The rest of the year, she lived in Glasgow but since her uncle was the club's manager and since she knew all about golf, she kept on working there.

The season was about to start and she was in charge of giving private classes for top-notch clients. Her rock solid privacy was celebrated by all and she was the perfect fit to deal with bankers and members of the idle class. An actor was about to complete the list.

"Y/N, here's the list of your clients for the next week"

Three names as each client required all attention. Quality over quantity was the motto of the club on that regard. The second one rang a bell to Y/N: Henry Cavill.

"Why does that name sound familiar? We've already have him, perhaps?" Y/N asked to Olivia who was welcoming the clients in the resort and who happened to be a close friend to Y/N.

"He's an actor, you fool" she replied in a moment of rest from the wave of clients "A handsome one too, lucky you!"

Instead of rejoicing along with Olivia, Y/N just hoped he was not the megalomaniac kind and that he wouldn't be a nightmare to work with. She went on with her day, many things had to be fixed before her first classes the next day.

Henry arrived by the entrance desk where Olivia acknowledged him and welcomed her just like any other client, in spite of her shouting internally. He had packed the bare minimum so his installment was brief.

The next day, it was almost noon when he woke up so he took himself out to the cafeteria.

Y/N had finished her first class of the day with a young member of the Dutch royal family and was gaining back the main accomodatio, up to the staff's lunch room. She had not changed clothes as she was not to meet any client.

Or so she thought.

"Oh, come on now!" Y/N heard someone grunting in her back as she was about to open the door to the place where she had left her food. She turned around only to see a frustrated Henry Cavill.

"May I help you, sir?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, please!" Henry jumped on the occasion "I'm looking for the lunch room but I always end up in this corridor... It's a bloody labyrinth there", he added holding back a nervous laugh.

Henry came back from his frustration as his misery was coming to an end with Y/N's arrival and that's on his way back that he noticed just how splendid Y/N was.

"Please, let me be your guide"

"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm Henry"

"And I'm Y/N", she responded making the connection with the photograph of Henry Olivia had shown her on her phone.

Along their journey to the lunch room, the two of them made some small talk while Y/N had to keep her composure. Olivia was right, he was bloody handsome. Even more so that on any photograph. And besides, he was visibly not a douche but an angel, making her feel at ease early on in their conversation.

As they arrived by the cafeteria filled with expensive furniture, the actor accompanied his "thank yous" with an offer: "I'm all alone at the resort, I could use some company for the lunch"

It was tempting if it wasn't for the fact that Y/N and the whole staff wasn't allowed to eat with the clients.

"Oh I see..." Henry said as Y/N explained the situation "But what if it's the client's decision. Isn't the customer always right?" he completed, glad he had found this trick to make her stay.

"Well, I suppose that it's the rule, yeah..." Y/N had been upset to decline the offer but she figured that indeed, she could stay a little while. Besides, the cafeteria was big enough for her not to be seen by anyone.

"It's a yes, then?"

"Yes, it is"

"So, what do you do here anyway?" Henry asked her as he came back from the buffet.

"I'm a golf instructor"

"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you on the green"

"About that, I should probably tell you that I'm the one who's gonna take care of your lessons for as long as you stay"

"I cannot wait. Though I should apologise in advance"

Y/N quizzed him by fixing his eyes. Shit, those eyes... Don't stare, don't stare, Y/N thought.

"I'm probably the worst golf player in Britain"

***

"You want to hold it like that" Y/N informed the way to seize the putter as she placed herself behind the impressive stature she had in front of her.

She could not believe that she was giving in the cliché of being glued to get someone to play golf.

Henry had not exaggerated, he indeed was pretty bad. In fact, he lacked of coordination and Y/N had to constantly remind him of how he was supposed to swing his body.

"May I?"

"Yes!" Henry was relieved to hear that he would get more help from her as she suggested than she could grab his arms to show the move.

She took his arms by the elbows. Henry being in a polo, she could feel all of his muscles under her touch.

"There, that's right! You've got the move. Now try to hit the ball"

And Henry executed himself but failed to even graze it. He snickered and then gave in a frank laughter that Y/N echoed.

"Right, you're gonna need to spend more time with me, Mr. Cavill"

"It's all I'm dreaming of. Dinner with me tonight in the garden?"

The class ended and for Y/N, it meant the beginning of her third and last class of the day.

As it was only 4 pm, Henry joined the games room where he had a view on the green where Y/N was helping an old lady to practice.

Of course, Y/N was too busy to notice him but it didn't stop him to smile like a child at her.

He was admiring her grace and her air of benevolence when a man came to him "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Henry nodded at the stranger who in turns carried on "It must run in the family"

As Henry took his eyes oof of Y/N to see whom he was talking to, the stranger introduced himself "I'm Max, the club's manager. Y/N's uncle"

"Oh! How do you do? I'm Henry"

Max nodded, knowing very well who his select guest was.

"Is she a great teacher to you?"

"For sure. It's just that I'm a terrible pupil"

Max laughed along with Henry "Ah, son, she'll make a great player out of you"

The dinner happened. Henry had changed into another polo paired with camel chinos.

Y/N too had changed into a strapless floral dress with brown sandals. She greeted Henry as she sat down in the grass on which Henry had displayed a basket of fruits.

They started drinking and talking as the moon rose in the sky.

"I've talked with your uncle this afternoon"

"Oh have you? He's quite something, isn't he?"

"That he is. According to him, you're the greatest teacher out there"

"And you doubt it?"

"I'll try to be as good as a lamb for you"

After dinner, Y/N suggested that they take a walk around the resort. Any way to make the night last longer was worth seizing.

Everything was calm. No one around. Under their feet, the grass was slightly wet as dew had started forming and tinting their shoes.

Y/N took off her shoes, soon followed by Henry who had not done something as spontaneous as throwing a picnic in a very long time.

With their shoes in their hands, they carried on walking on the grass as crickets were going for a symphony and more and more windows got dark afar.

"It's been ages since I hadn't spent a lovely night like that" Henry sighed with pleasure "but that being said, I should hit my bed if I want to be at the top of my performance for my strict instructor"

The two of them had gotten very close to one another "If I stay now, I'm staying the whole night" Henry commented as Y/N's lips were dangerously close to his.

"I would let you" Y/N replied.

***

Henry and Y/N had met regularly apart from the times set for the classes over the last two weeks and if Henry had barely gotten better, the two of them had grown fond of the other. They had kissed on the fourth night, but both of them were not craving for more. Henry did not wish to rush things, nor did Y/N though the tension became unbearable.

"Do you think your uncle would kick you out if you spent the night at my room tonight?" Henry ventured as the class was over, wishing that he could kiss her right there, on the green.

"I wouldn't mind being kicked out if it meant spending the night with you" Y/N answered as she put back the clubs in the trolley.

After they finished eating at their favourite spot, Henry seized Y/N's hand and together they traveld to his room.

As Henry opened the door, he preceded Y/N,cupping her face with his hands to make her follow him in the suite.

He shut the door behind her and took her in his arms, only letting go on her after having carefully laid her on the bed.

"It is my turn to teach you a lesson, baby", he purred in her ear as he had let his lips wander from her legs to her face.

He placed his body over Y/N's but suddenly he got repentant and cursed "Fuck, I came here with nothing..."

Of course, Henry had no plans of making love to his instructor when he had booked holidays at the resort and found himself caught off guard, without protection for the night.

"In my purse" Y/N told him where to look.

"You might just be the most prepared teacher ever"

"Just grab it" Y/N begged him as he was going for encores, giving another sequel of kisses to her skin.

Henry ripped the scabbard and took his apparel out of his trousers, dressing it for the occasion.

Gracious God! There was lot to look at...

Fully erect, Henry came back in bed where Y/N was trying her best not to stare at the length.

"You sure about this?" Henry inquired as he aligned himself.

"Never been more sure in my whole life"

Henry then slid his member, inch by inch to be sure that Y/N was coping with what she was given.

He was just half through when it began to hurt.

"It's alright, doll!" Henry consoled her "I'm sorry, I'll go slow, I promise"

Henry found his way out as he had an idea to ease the process. Y/N still under him, he got down on her and made a feast of the flesh flashing before his eyes.

There was no doubt: he was much better at this than with golf.

As Y/N looked down at the face that had found shelter between her legs, she noticed just how dedicate he was. He was giving it all the attention required.

His eyes were glistening by the feeble light above their head.

Henry's cock was beating a rhythm of its own, pleased at it was that Henry was able to make Y/N moan with just his tongue and fingers.

The resort was known for "its quiet nights" and "tranquil setting" but tonight, Henry was eager to go off the rails.

It did have the expected effect on Y/N since her lair had gotten damp. Henry let her come back from the mountain she had climbed before he dived inside.

This time around, the whole length got in no sooner said than done.

"You're just so gorgeous!" Henry articulated with difficulty as he was carrying his moves, putting more energy by every second that went by.

Y/N's fingers borrowed the path drawn by his torso which was dripping with sweat "You're one very good student. And a very hot one too"

Henry's heart was pounding in his chest as he lifted Y/N's legs to put them by each side of his spine. That way, he reached a new spot with the tip of his penis which made Y/N pant with his name on her lips.

"Henry!" she cried her lungs out through the dark of the night. The tranquil nights long gone.

"Come for me, doll!"

She didn't have to hear twice as she was unleashing her falls.

But Henry was insatiable. Though teased twice by the sight of Y/N coming for him, his cock was still showing no sign of weakness.

He was willing to let go of her lover to give her some rest while he would take care of himself but Y/N stopped him as he was about to take off the condom.

"I wouldn't mind a third lesson" she told him "Let's change the angle. Show me how your swing's going. As for your stamina, Mr. Cavill, it got much better"

Y/N got on all fours, spreading her legs for Henry to come up behind her. As he entered the well, Y/N stretched herself so that she in turn allowed more of Hnery to get in and out.

Henry was admiring the view as he held Y/N by her hips, pounding her.

In and out, fast at first, the sounds of his cock hitting the bottom of her cunt.

Then Henry who got tired of the the action - and who was not going to hold it back for very much longer as Y/N's moans were rushing his climax - got slow, savouring every second he had ahead of him before he would come too.

Sensing that Y/N was close to get her third orgasm as she got tight around his cock, he decided for her to come to do so as well, and hoped that it would arrive soon.

She did come, shouting and laughing as she came back.

"I don't want you to come in that. I want to see you coming for me, Henry"

Henry then quickly removed the piece of latex which was soiled with pre-cum. The sole fact of taking it off almost made him come.

Henry kneeled on the bed by the level of Y/N who was laying down and emptied himself on her stomach.

"I cannot wait for our next class" Henry said in a sigh as he rested his limbs by Y/N.

#henry cavill #imagines #henry cavill imagines #smut #oops i guess #mind that i wrote smut in the train for the sake of science #henry cavill x reader

158 notes · View notes

jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

I do, I don't

A continuation of this AU - Written for @thewitcherbog Hallmark Weddings June event. Yes, I know it's July. Life happened.

Ship: Lambden

CW: none?

_______

It should have been the happiest day of Lambert’s life. That’s what everyone said, and honestly he wanted to be happy. He loved Aiden, more than he thought was possible when the idiot had walked into his garage in his hipster clothes and pretty boy motorbike. That had been almost two years ago now and they’d been dating ever since. Aiden was good for Lambert. He not only tolerated Lambert’s shittier moods, but also seemed to love him through the worst of it. It was a fucking miracle.

And they’d been happy.

The happiest they’d ever been.

Then Yennefer and Renfri had gotten married, and then Geralt and Jaskier got engaged, followed by Triss and Eskel. It seemed like everyone was getting married because that’s just what people did when they grew up. So, Lambert had proposed to Aiden and his boyfriend-turned-fiancé had said yes.

That had been a month ago. They’d both agreed that they didn’t want a big wedding, and so Lambert was standing in Eskel’s bedroom in a suit that was far too expensive and still didn’t fit right waiting to marry the love of his god damn life. The sun was shining. Everyone seemed to be excited; everyone except him. Lambert was fucking miserable. He didn’t even know why. There was no reason not to marry Aiden. They loved each other, through thick and thin, for better or for worse… usually for worse, but they made it work even though no one else really understood how.

“Hey?” Eskel’s hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. It wasn’t enough to completely stop his spiral but it helped. “I know you don’t have a lot of brain cells, but what’s going on up there?”

Lambert punched his brother on the arm and rolled his eyes. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Fuck that,” Eskel scoffed. “I know you, Lamb. You’re not fine.”

“Cold feet,” Lambert muttered, running his hands through his hair. Eskel had helped him try and tame the mess of his hair that morning, but it was no use. Luckily Aiden seemed to like his hair even when it did resemble a bird’s nest. His boyfriend, no... fiancé, saw the beauty in everything. Lambert’s red hair was apparently some kind of metaphor or whatever for the rage that burned within him. Some shitty imagery that Aiden loved to play with in his photography.

“This isn’t cold feet.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Lambert snapped and marched out of the room. He couldn’t go far. He was travelling with Eskel to the hall where the ceremony was being held. Pinching his nose, Lambert cursed and slunk back into the room. “I need to call him.”

“Is that a good idea?” Eskel asked, being annoyingly concerned in the way only big brothers could manage. Deep down Lambert loved it, but he wasn’t in the mood for it today he just wanted to curl up to his… to Aiden and forget this whole damn thing.

But Aiden would be devastated, and Lambert could never do that to him. Aiden deserved better, he’d always deserved better but for some godforsaken reason, Aiden wanted him.

Lambert would do anything to keep him, even if that meant getting married when really he couldn’t think of anything worse.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of the commitment. He knew he couldn’t be more committed to Aiden if he tried it was just… marriage. It was a load of fucking bullshit. He didn’t understand it. Why did he need some stupid piece of paper to tell the world he was in love with Aiden? He could do that just fine on his own, but he’d proposed. It had been his choice. He couldn’t back out now.

Could he?

“Fuck it!” Lambert growled, running for the front door. He grabbed the keys to Eskel’s car before his brother could realise what was happening, and then made his escape.

He knew that he should probably tell Eskel what was going on, but Lambert had always struggled trusting people. It had taken Aiden months to break through his walls, and right now the only person Lambert did trust was his kitten. If anyone was going to understand it would be Aiden. Otherwise then… well… Lambert really shouldn’t be marrying him anyway.

“Lambert! Come back here, you bastard!” Eskel yelled from behind him, but it was too late.

He put his foot down and drove through the familiar streets until he was outside Aiden’s apartment. Jaskier and Geralt were waiting in the driveway when he arrived, ready to stop him, but something about Lambert’s death glare actually gave them pause. Geralt put his hand on Lambert’s arm and peered at him, stoic and silent, before nodding and letting him pass.

“Oi! Geralt! What are you doing?! They are not supposed to see each other!”

“It’s okay, Jask.”

Lambert ignored them as he passed through the door and finally, fucking finally, there was Aiden.

Looking absolutely stunning.

Aiden’s suit was a dark navy blue. His long hair was swept up off his face with intricate braiding on either side of his head, Jaskier’s handiwork probably, and there were dark smudges of eyeliner around his eyes. Honestly, Aiden had no right to be that handsome during Lambert’s breakdown.

“Hey darling,” Aiden said softly, already reaching out a hand. Lambert barrelled into him, pressing his face into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck and sighing as he let the scent of Aiden’s cologne wash over him.

“Hi,” he grumbled.

“So, I’ve been thinking…”

Lambert scowled as he pulled back, but Aiden’s hand was already on his cheek before he could spiral any further. “Yeah?”

“Marriage seems rather arbitrary, doesn’t it?”

Relief flooded through him. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry… perhaps both. There was no way this was real. It had to be some kind of dream, maybe he hadn’t even woken up yet and this was all some pre-wedding nightmare. Sure Aiden hadn’t been as big into the wedding planning as he’d expected but he’d been invested enough…

Unless Aiden was doing it because he thought Lambert had wanted it.

“Wolf?”

Lambert spluttered nonsensically, and then pulled his boyfriend into a kiss, one hand cupping the back of Aiden’s neck to hold him closer. If he was crying by the end of the kiss then neither of them mentioned it, and Lambert just wiped away his tears before burying his face in Aiden’s shoulder. “I love you, kitten,” he mumbled.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Aiden whispered, running a hand down Lambert’s back. “Why on earth did you ask, wolf?”

“Why did you say yes?!” he grumbled, pouting even though his boyfriend couldn’t see him.

“I thought it was what you wanted.”

“I thought it was what you wanted!” Lamber shot back, pulling away to glare at Aiden.

“I would have asked,” Aiden laughed and crashed their lips together once more.

They were idiots, both of them, but Lambert could finally say it was the happiest day of his life. Marriage, as it turned out, just wasn’t for them, and that was okay.

#the witcher #lambden #laiden #lambert/aiden #wolfie's witcher writing

67 notes · View notes

xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years

Text

Young God-Part 1

Summary: Your power isn't even a power its simply words. You can understand people, get into their head and know them better than anyone all willingly on their end. This made you useful to the avengers when villains came and you could understand and fix them. When this is asked to be done to loki you cant help but fall for the god the more you get to know him.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: Swearing, Loki being loki,angst

Notes: Ok lemme just start of saying loki isn't going to be...nice in the beginning of this i got the idea off of joker and harley quinn's relationship and slightly silence of the lambs so do with that what you will now i adore loki so he won't be a dick the whole time just yea someone getting into loki's head? he isn't too chill with that.

You walked down the stairs leading to the dungeon where the god was locked away ready for you to speak to. you heard the mocking laughs and sarcastic remarks made as you passed the cells.” “hey mortal lemme get a taste” he said thrust to you. you flipped him off not looking at him and passing on by. seeing the god laying on the couch reading a book you walked through the boundaries placed stepping before him. Odin had given you a pill, said it would allow you past the wall of an hour and only you. “hello” he said reading his book still. “apologies for my fellow inmates they can be quiet rude” he said with a small smirk.

“ironic coming from a man with the nickname silver tongue” you said sitting down on a chair in front of him. he placed down his book “oh doll there's more to that nickname” he said with a wink. you simply rolled your eyes in response. you had been told loki was like this. “anyways why are you here” he asked sitting up turning to you “did odin send you to make sure im behaving?” he asked with a snarky tone

You made a mental note of his hatred for odin, though from your interactions with the man you slightly understood that. “i'm here to speak to you” is all you said. loki scoffed “you doll are a horrible liar” he said with a smirk. He stood up and walked around you almost scanning you. “what's the real reason your here?” he asked behind you. “truly i am here to talk to you” you repeated with a straight face and shrug. “then talk” he said bending down right in front of your face. his breath ghosting over your face and his long wavy hair falling in his face. “your a god you live for years on end tell me loki, how old are you?” you asked. loki gave a smile before standing “my age? that's what you came for?” he huffed. “ill answer your questions if you answer mine” he said in return

you turned around facing him “i don't answer questions” you said with a shrug “oh come on doctor i know your other patients didn't just comply with your questioning” he said with a smirk. he was always smiling or smirking, never a true smile something to show planning, no not planning, anger? no not anger. hurt? yes thats it hes hurt and hides it with his devilish smile. to throw you off to push you away. make you fear him over wanting to know him.

Now the new question was how did he know you were a doctor. well you may not be an official doctor but you were one of sorts. You had been in college to get a phycology degree until fury swept you up making you work for him. you tilted your head alarming the god you were lost on his accusation. “oh dear as you said i am a god you don't think i could fall for your tricks and lies like the others did you?” he asked walking to you “doll only i make the tricks here” he said holding your jaw. “now we play by my rules” he said with another smile. “stop” you said. his smile widened “stop smiling” you said. you saw a hint of confusion wash over before it was erased with another smirk “why doll?” he asked. “because its a lie” you said. loki's face became serious “you talk of lies yet you wouldn't tell me why your here” he said walking around the room.

“Fine i'm here to evaluate you” you said simply “now will you answer my questions?” you asked. “I have been just not the ones you want the answer to.” he replied. “agree to my terms and ill be more than willing to answer you” he said with a sarcastic smile “i ask the questions not you” you replied. he shrugged laying back down reading his book again. you only had an hour with him so you had no choice but to comply with his rules or you'll get nowhere but you also didn't want the god to think he could just boss you around and throw a fit.

you shrugged picking up your bag walking out of the room. “1,054″ you said blankly. you turned confused “my age” he said still reading. you nodded walking back in “one question” you said sitting down. he smirked still looking at the book but not reading it “well start simple. name?” he asked. “y/n” you replied. “y/n....mmm now y/n why are you here?” he asked sitting up. “to evalu-” you started to say before he cut you off “why are you here?” he asked “were not doing this loki i said one question” you said standing back up. your hour was almost over. “what happened doctor don't like a taste of your own medicine?” he asked with a dark smile. “why do you do that? smile so much?” you asked. “you tell me you said it was a lie which means you've made your own deductions of it so tell me doc why do i smile so much?” he asked tilting his head.

“to make people uncomfortable. they see you smile this mischievous smile a smile that they expect from the god of mischief. you become what people expect of you so they stay away now why you push people you don't know away i'm not quiet sure on but i assume it has something to do with your spite for odin” you said simply. loki gave a wide smile standing up “well well well doc, you are utterly” he said behind you getting close to your ear “wrong” he said simply straightening backup. “now you well i do have so many things to say about you” he said moving in front of you. “you evaluate people thinking you know everything about them so much more than they know themself, from body language to words to the crime they commited. but i my dear am simply a king who deserved a throne and would fight for it” he said sitting back down “hours up doll better leave before your trapped in here” he said looking at you with another smile.

Walking back up you felt unnerved. the god had a weird aura to him like he could read your mind. granted he may actually be able to in which case you need to be more careful about such things. you walked to your room feeling empty and drained. you fell back on the bed rubbing your face. the odinsons had given you your own quarters while you stayed there. there was knock on the door and you groaned “its open” you replied and the door opened revealing yet another god, a kinder one. Thor walked over sitting next to you “how was loki?” he asked. “loki was....exactly how yall described him” you sighed. thor griminced he hoped his brother would behave “did you get anything out of him?” he asked. “just his age which is useless it was more a test to see if he'd comply with me. think he got more out of me than i of him” you said looking up at thor.

“give him time. my brother can be...difficult but your a legend at this so you should do well it may take longer than usual but you'll get it” thor said cheerfully. you gave a small smile. you wanted to believe that you truly did but honestly you weren't sure. “loki sure is a strange guy” you said sitting up “Well he's not a guy hes a god such as i and he was raised by my mother” he said to you.

“get some rest i bet you'll do much better tomorrow” he said with a smile walking out. you sighed and changed, laying bed you felt sleep take over.

you stood in a black room seeing your parents smiling faces “mom? dad? you said with a smile. you started to run to them before blood dripped from there eyes and they slowly faded away. you stepped back feeling empty once again. you heard a chuckle and turned seeing loki laugh and roll his eyes before vanishing too

You awoke with a small scream and your heart racing. you were drenched in sweat and tears streamed down your face. once you calmed you growled launching up from bed and walking down to the dungeon storming past the assholes shouting crude things at you. you stood at loki's cell banging on the wall “hey asshole” you said blatantly. “well hello to you too doll isnt this a shocker” he said with another smile god how you wanted to slap that smile off his face “shut up” you said. loki sat up looking at you “well what can i do for you?” he asked. “your not supposed to have you powers in here” you said with a stern face

loki tilted his head in mock confusion “why i don't” he said voice dripping in sarcastic hurt as if offended by such accusations. “don't lie you bastard! You were in my head i know it you know it so let's just both know it” you yelled at him. His smile widened “ok darling but see i do have one question left unanswered. how did your parents die?” he asked stepping to the glass. “they didn't it was simply a nightmare” you groaned.

“no no see people who dream of the death unprompted feel pain,sadness,fear they try to stop it you well you felt nothing you just...stood there” he said looking down at you. “so how was it they died?” he asked. “if you can get in my head then you sure as shit know” you said looking down at the floor. you really did not want to speak of it.

“of course i do doll but i want to hear you say it” he said leaning on the glass. “i will not play into your game” you said storming off “you still hear it dont you? their screams” he said. “i do” he said after

you turned “pardon?” you asked walking back to him. “have a nice night darling” he said smiling walking back to his couch. “but you said-” you were cut off by the sounds of footsteps “oi you are not to be down here madam” the man said walking to you “oh yes sorry i must have sleep walked” you replied walking upstairs back to your bed.

laying down your head felt as if it was spinning. This was going to be an interesting roller coaster wasn't it.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #MCU #MCU fanfiction #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #tom hiddleston

62 notes · View notes

pricklerick · 3 years

Text

Thanksgiving used to be Summer’s favorite holiday.

It meant spending two whole nights with Jerry’s parents and waking up early and going for a long walk in the snow, then peeling off wet clothes just in time to watch the dog show on TV while grandma baked pumpkin pie.

Things are different now, with Grandpa Rick and Morty gone. Dad, of course, had instantly accused Grandpa Rick of kidnapping Morty. Mom had screamed that her father would never do something like that to his family, to her (even know Summer knows that deep down, her mother was very afraid that Grandpa Rick had done exactly that).

The divorce was so ugly that Summer transferred to a school in Texas, losing a bunch of her class credits just to get away from them.

Texas is good. Well, it’s hot, and Summer’s skin hates that, but the people are nice and her classes are easy, and if she stays within a certain neighborhood, she can find whatever she wants without having to edge over to the east side of town.

She even has a finance. David plays football and his parents own a ranch in the Texas hill country. They have a little money and they like to flaunt it.

Years ago, before Grandpa Rick burst into Summer’s life and started taking her little brother on adventures, before portal guns and real guns and near death experiences became Summer’s adrenaline fix, she would have been thrilled to nail down a guy like David. David is kind, and sweet, and very attractive. He’s got a good future and he’s looking at being scouted as quarterback next year.

Summer’s ring is a gaudy thing, at least two carats, and it sits heavy on her finger. She only wears it when she knows she’ll be with David or the in-laws. It’s an heirloom ring, passed down through generations, and Summer hates it. She’s forever fiddling with it, or pulling her sleeve down to cover it, or hiding it in her back pocket when she’s out with girl friends.

She doesn’t go out as often anymore - they’re seniors now, and Summer has been told that the partying needs to slow down now that David’s future is getting serious. Summer is fine with this. There’s nothing on this earth that matches a party in space, anyway.

Sometimes, Summer looks up at the night sky and wonders how she could get her hands on some of Grandpa Rick’s K-Lax. That was good stuff.

It’s easy to justify spending Thanksgiving away from home because of travel expenses and final exams. Summer’s done it three years in a row now. She doesn't often think of Beth, or of Jerry, either. She’s deeply entrenched in a new family now, invested in a future mother-in -law who insists on being called “Mama June” or even just “Mama,” and an emotionally detached father-in-law who feels that talking to a woman who is not his wife is beneath him.

Summer is spending more and more time outside, looking at the stars, wishing, remembering.

But this week, the week before break, at 2:43 am, Summer’s phone screen lights up with a call from “Beth Smith.” And when Summer, groggy and maybe already a little hungover, answers with a hoarse, “Hello?” Beth is slobbering drunk.

“Honey, please,” Beth cries, slurring her words and hitching her breaths. “I need to see my baby, Summer. It’s Thanksgiving, next week. Summer, remember? Remember Thanksgiving? You... You’re all I have left.”

Yeesh.

Summer does not want to spend her break dealing with Beth and all of her sloppy-alcoholic coping mechanisms.That’s why she’d run away to Texas to begin with.

Summer hasn’t been home since the night they lost Morty.

She doesn’t want to go back. So she shushes Beth over the phone, lets her cry it out and then they start it all again, the crying and the shushing, over and over until Beth is nearly asleep, slurring half-formed words into her pillow.

Summer disconnects the call and drops her face into her hands. “Fuck.”

“What, babe?”

Ugh, she’d forgotten that David had stayed over.

David wraps his greedy arms around Summer’s waist and pulls her in, his naked boner brushing hot against her thigh. It makes her sick. She pulls away from him, leaning against the headboard and fumbling for the lamp. Beside her, David blinks owlishly in the light.

“I’m going home for Thanksgiving,” she tells him. No sense dragging it out.

“Oh,” says David, reaching up to stroke Summer’s cheeks and twine his fingers in her hair. Summer tenses at this, but David is oblivious, still carding his big stupid paws though Summer’s shower-damp braids and looking at her with an intensity that is frankly... terrifying. “What about coming back to Pilot Point, babe?,” he reminds her and he leans forward in an effort to pepper Summer’s face with kisses. Summer dodges them, making a show of reaching for her phone, so David grabs her hand instead. “Remember talking about seeing my folks?”

Summer is suddenly disgusted with herself. She ran away from home straight into the arms of this Mama’s boy who can hardly keep it up for the four and a half minutes it takes him to blow his load in missionary position.

Summer is a Sanchez.

She’s wondered for a while, especially after that stunt Dad pulled during the divorce, if she should have her name legally changed. She shares a quarter of Grandpa Rick’s genes, and by her rights as a Sanchez, the universe owes her good sex.

At least.

“Sorry, David,” she says and she deftly rolls away from him to stand at the edge of their shared bed. “Plans have changed. Mom needs me.”

Now David is sitting up, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that Summer doesn’t like. Oh well. In for a penny, she guesses.

“Listen, dude, this isn’t working anyway. I’m not the hot little wifey on your arm that your parents are hoping you’ll find here.” She snorts, pacing around the bedroom, ticking off points on her fingers. “I don’t even want kids. I’m Summer Sanchez. I’ve been to space. I’ve seen the stars and constellations and comets and asteroids. I’ve met people you wouldn’t believe. I’ve met planets you wouldn’t believe - sentient planets, David! I’ve hit alien drugs that would blow your tiny mind.” She’s trembling now, all keyed up, but it feels good. There’s something cathartic about acknowledging the truth after so long.

She decides that Summer Sanchez has a nice ring to it.

She lifts her hands and twirls, landing in a heap at the foot of the bed. “The best sex I ever had was with a flying lamb on Oourivian Prime, for Chrissakes.” Summer turns, flushed and grinning, and pokes David in the chest. “You better believe I’m not settling down on a silly horse farm in Pilot Point!”

David is looking at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed, like he’s seeing her for the first time. The thought makes Summer smile a real smile. In a fit of giddiness, she pecks him playfully on the lips, sliding his ridiculous ring from her finger and curling it into his palm. “Good luck with that, babe!”

Feeling freer than she has in years, she flutters around the room, grabbing a few outfits that she likes and stuffing them haphazardly into an old gym bag. The whole thing takes less than a minute.

“Oh, and don’t take it too hard,” she calls over her shoulder, “I don’t think we’re really all that sexually compatible, anyway.” She waves a hand toward the flagging erection that is peaking from David’s boxers. “I’m more of a tentacle kind of girl, if you know what I mean.”

And so, during the fall semester of her senior year, Summer Sanchez dropped out of Texas A&M’s pre-law program and flew home to see her mother for the first time in three years.

xxx

Morty enters through the front door because he’s not a stranger. He’s not exactly sure how long it’s been on Earth - time moves differently on Morty’s waste planet - but somehow, he hadn’t expected it to be night. It makes him feel like a burglar, walking up the concrete steps to the front door with his big black cowl pulled low over his face, a deeply ingrained habit.

“You’ve only got one face, Mo-AAAUURRGG-rty. Don’t get caught with it.”

The key code to unlock the door is the same. Morty sighs, surprised at the stress that leaves his body with this revelation. He hadn’t wanted to break into his parents’ home. Now, he doesn’t have to.

He whirls around, taking one last look at the ship he’d parked on the garage pad. He’d avoided the streetlamps best he could, managed to land very quietly (thanks for that rad auto-landing feature, Rick)partially concealed behind some overgrown azaleas.

Morty sighs, tense again. Modifications aside, that is obviously Rick’s ship to anybody who knows it. Morty hopes he can get what he needs and get out. It would be wrong to disturb whatever peace his family had managed to regain in the years he’s been gone.

The front door is squeakier than Morty remembers. He slips into the kitchen as quickly, quiet as a ghost, and pulls the door slowly to behind him.

His first thought is that he’d forgotten that home has a smell. Carpet and lemon pledge and laundry detergent, and the lingering scent of last night’s dinner all converge on his senses like a physical blow to the gut.

How could Morty have forgotten that smell?

He glances around, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the street lamps. A few scattered dishes lie in the sink, an empty wine bottle sits abandoned on the counter. He’s standing on the same ugly linoleum floor with its worn green leaf patten, so subtle you’d miss it if you didn’t know where to look.

Time hasn’t touched the kitchen.

Morty stands in his childhood home and takes three deep breaths. He thought he’d been prepared for anything and everything - all the changes. He’d been ready.

But the house is exactly the same.

It’s Morty who has changed.

Morty’s breathing speeds, and he shakes off the shudder that tempts to run down his spine. If the kitchen affected him this deeply…. He swings his gaze to the garage door that beckons ominously to his left.

Don’t think about it, he reminds himself sharply. The plan is simple - break into the garage, grab the stuff, and get out. There will be time for memories later.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about… him.

Morty shakes himself, setting his shoulders and pulling the heavy door handle toward him as he turns it to minimize noise. Unlike the kitchen, the swing of the garage door is silent.

The darkness deepens as Morty steps down the single step - there are no windows to let in the glow of the street lights here. The air is hotter and heavy, almost stale, and as Morty turns his back to the room to slowly pull the door to, he gets the strangest feeling. It’s almost the uneasiness he feels when he walks to the grave of the other Morty who is buried in the backyard. It raises the hairs on his neck, and Morty wonders if anybody in the family have used this garage since...

Don’t think about it.

Door secured and locked, Morty lets his fingers drift along the walls, his opposite hand outstretched in search of obstacles. But it seems that the garage is exactly as Morty remembers, and he navigates the dark with increasing confidence. He snags the dangling string - right where it should be - and tugs. The bare bulb that hangs over Rick’s work table pops and hums as it slowly blinks on, and Morty bites back a smile at the irony of the inter-galactic space genius Rick Sanchez discovering his greatest scientific breakthroughs beneath this dirty fluorescent bulb.

A thousand memories assault him at once.

“A hair, Morty, I need one of your hairs!”

“Bring me the thing. The thing. The thing. The -- the -- it's got, like, buttons on it and lights on it. It -- it -- it beeps.”

“You little son of a bitch! Y-y- are you a simulation?! Huh?! Are you a simulation??”

“I’m the Rickest Rick there is. And you know, it would - UUUURRGGHH- go without saying that the Rickest Rick… would have the Mortyest Morty.”

“Be better than I am.”

“Don’t… Don’t think about it.”

Morty sucks in a deep breath and grits his teeth hard. Time to get busy.

xxx

Three hours later, and Morty is almost done with the garage.

He glances at the digital clock that reads 3:33. By the time he gets this stuff loaded, it’ll be nearly daylight.

Damn, he’d really hoped to get everything in one trip. Fuel for a trip to Earth from his encampment is not cheap, and this was a long trip.

He picks up the first item, a strangely lightweight box labeled “Time Travel Stuff” and heads toward the kitchen. He dares not raise the garage door - that would make too much noise.

He opens the door and comes nose to nose with Summer.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing in my grandpa’s garage?” she says slowly, advancing on him with each word.

Morty’s first thought as he stumbles backward is, “Where did my sister get a pistol?”

He trips over the step in an effort to give her some space, sending the box flying. He finds himself sprawled on the floor, space bits everywhere, and his ass is killing him. “Ah, geez,” he breathes, repositioning slowly to take the pressure off of his coccyx. It’s probably broken.

Summer’s hands are trembling, and she lowers the gun. “Morty?”

Oh. His hood had fallen when he did. Morty looks up at her, a little sheepishly, suddenly very aware of the beard he’d decided to grow a while back. “Umm, yeah,” he says lamely, still wincing at the pain. “Hi!”

There’s a funny expression on Summer’s face, like she’s thinking a billion things at once, and her eyes are wider than Morty’s ever seen them. But then her gaze hardens. “And which one are you?” she demands, looking as if she’d like to bring the gun back to his head.

Morty raises his eyebrows. He wouldn’t have expected Summer to immediately question his dimension. Clever of her. He quirks a little smile. “C-137,” he answers her, trying and mostly failing to get back on his feet. “I’m your Morty. Well, your second Morty.”

Quick as a blink, Summer slings the gun away. It lands with a clatter and she launches herself at Morty, wrapping him in a rib-creaking hug. Morty’s body tenses - hugs are definitely not his typical physical interaction. But Summer is burying her face into the crook of his neck, and Morty is surprised to find how easily it fits there. When he’d left, they’d barely stood eye to eye.

Morty is stunned. Summer has never hugged him like this. Feebly, he reaches up and lays his hand across her back. She’s shuddering. So Morty pulls her closer, shifting his weight so that his knees are beneath him, and gathers her in. She allows this, never looking up at him, and slowly, Morty relaxes into it.

“Summer?” he asks softly after what feels like a long time. He’s never been good with his sister’s emotions.

Summer cranes her neck sideways to look at him, and she’s a mess of mascara and tears, red-faced and absolutely shaking with laughter. Morty huffs with her, still utterly bewildered by girls. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing’s funny, Morty,” she tells him, but she’s still laughing, so Morty laughs with her. “You’ve been gone for three years. You’ve been legally declared dead, you asshole!” She swats him on the shoulder, but he manages to doge the blow, which only makes her face fall. She comes closer, looking more tearful now than before, and settles beside him. “We had a fucking funeral for you, you complete sack of dicks!”

Morty doesn’t know what to say, so he grabs Summer’s hand and squeezes. “Sorry.”

And he is.

Summer rolls her eyes and snorts, but there’s something softer at the edge of her lips, and she lays her head on Morty’s shoulder and sighs. Morty assumes means he’s forgiven, at least on some level.

They only sit like that for a minute or so before Morty starts to fidget. His ass is absolutely killing him, and time’s a-ticking. He needs to get out of here soon. Summer seems to read the tension in his body, because she stands abruptly and offers her hand, pulling him to his feet with an exaggerated groan.

“Thanks,” he quirks her a little half-smile, the only thing he has to offer her.

But Summer isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are tracking around the garage, noting the boxes that have been drug out and packed up. Something tightens in her face, and when she speaks, it’s in that no-nonsense tone that always drove him up the wall when they were kids.

“What happened, Morty?” Summer finishes her sweep of the garage and pins her gaze on him.

Morty nearly stumbles back at the intensity of it.

“What happened to you? Where is Grandpa Rick?”

Authors Notes:

Based on Vapor Morty, who was originally developed in this hot mess of a text post. Rick’s been kidnapped and Morty has been scouring the universe trying to find him and doing a lot of learning and growing along the way.

Kidnapped Rick saw Morty “die” just before he was kidnapped and went crazy over it. Morty obviously wasn’t dead, was trying to get to Rick to say hey, I’m all good and these guys are after you so let’s get out of here.

Morty literally lives in an intergalactic dumpster and makes a living renovating and selling weapons and machinery. He found his way home to earth because he wants to find any of Rick’s stuff that he could possibly use to track him down, or maybe even build his own portal gun.

Basically, Morty is a little badass now.

I might write more of these little drabbles if people are interested in them. Also, just really hoping I got Summer’s voice right here. Feedback is always, always appreciated, friends! My messages and ask box are open!

#pricklerick original #rick and morty #vapor morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rickorty #summer smith #i could pretty easily be convinced to dabble deeper into this au #so many vapor morty feelings #summer is my precious sunshine child

36 notes · View notes

sons-of-the-morning-star · 3 years

Text

I've put this off long enough

This is Chapter/Episode 2 of Sons of The Morning Star: Habilitation

It is a very nice morning in the Wagner-Thorn-Langdon-Kline-Young house, FROM THE OUTSIDE, AT LEAST.

Inside, emotional tensions are high, with Michael and Lucius having another glare down, Jack struggling to get Dog to let go of a plate, and Damien struggling to get Adam out of his room. It has been less than a week, and the news don't know about the future Senator's new home life.

Yet.

Damien gives another knock on Adam's door, trying his damndest to not lose his mind.

"Adam, come on. We're about to eat breakfast, the food's gonna get cold, and you need to eat. GET. UP."

"I'll eat later," Adam calls from on his bed, though if this was an actual TV show, we'd only see Damien at the door. "Leave me alone."

Damien groans, "Fine." With a twitchy eye, he joins the others for breakfast.

Michael and Lucius avoid each other as best as they can while Jack smiles at Damien, successful at getting his plate back.

"Still no luck with him. He won't come out."

"Let him starve, then," Michael scoffs. "Maybe Crowley and Azriel can come pick him up and adopt him."

"Aziraphale," Jack corrects.

"Whatever."

Jack deflates, but finishes his breakfast and turns to Lucius.

"So anything interesting planned today?"

Lucius writes a message and slides it to Jack. 'Just a couple meetings. Nothing special.'

"Well, you'll always have us to call, if you get bored. And Damien."

Lucius groans as Damien grabs his things.

"Okay, I'm heading out. Michael, Jack, please don't kill each other and make sure Adam eats, got it?"

Both nod, though Jack is more enthusiastic, and Damien turns to Lucius and gives him a one armed hug.

"Have a nice day at work, honey!"

Jack and Michael burst into a fit of laughter as Damien dodges a punch from Lucius and leaves the house.

Lucius leaves soon after, telling the two to keep an eye on Adam and Dog, and to keep the radio on incase they hear anything new.

Michael nods and Jack full on agrees, waving his phone to Lucius and offering again that if he gets bored, he can call.

Lucius leaves and Michael gets up and grabs his coat.

"Where are you going? We're supposed to stay here and keep an ear out for any news."

"Lucius is not our father."

"He is now. And Damien," Jack states matter-of-factly.

"Neither of them are here. And what will you do to stop me from leaving? Flood the continent? Cause a plague? Start a world wide famine?"

When Jack doesn't have answer, Michael smirks and leaves.

If this was a TV episode, the camera would follow and face Michael as he leaves the house and revels in his small victory, and would show that the window to Adam's room is opened, something for astute viewers to notice.

CUT TO LUCIUS!

Lucius is having a time of it as he can barely concentrate, but still tries to listen.

It TOTALLY has to do with the fact he is now a father.

One of his campaigning partners is talking about people's sightings of people with wings and graffiti of pentecosts(THAT'S the evil, devil, Satan symbol, not a pentagram. A pentagram, the avatar/profile pic for this Tumblr, is a wiccan, pagan symbol for protection) on court houses and churches, when his phone rings.

He puts it on silent, and shows himself doing it, but he still gets phone calls.

His 'staff' tell him it's okay, and he opens a FaceTime-esque call from- guess. Just guess.

"Lucius? Is that you? Can you hear me?"

Lucius nods as he fights the growing urge to smash his cellphone on the ground.

"Michael left. He told me not to bother telling you, but I am anyway because he's not listening at all."

"Mr. Wagner, who is that?" One of his campaign advisers asks.

Before Lucius can hang up, Jack shouts out, "Who are you talking to? Are you working? CAN I SEE!?"

More advisers speak up and Lucius cringes as he turns his phone and reveals Jack, who's covered in flour and chocolate and some peanut butter; a surprise for Lucius when he gets home.

"Who are you?"

"Jack Kline," Jack replies. "Lucius adopted me and the rest of our broth-"

Lucius hangs up, turns off his phone, and tosses it on to a near by table with coffee and refreshments on it.

'What were you saying about all the vandalism recently?'

His staff, however, isn't listening, now more eager on the fact that Lucius has adopted someone, or multiple people, and taken them into his care.

"Mr. Wagner, what if we show the public you're caring these orphans? Your brothers? We have heard complaints lately that you're coming off as an 'iron fist' sort of guy."

Lucius is literally speechless, groaning into his hands as they pitch more ideas, even noting that if he stops the vandalisms and shows his 'soft' side to the public, he'll get more supporters.

CUT TO DAMIEN!

On the topic of these vandalisms, Damien has to take pictures of the symbols for the newspapers and online articles, noting that he could draw some better than what the 'artists' have done.

One in particular makes him freeze, and makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end:

A message written in white paint and surrounded by crosses and with what looks like blood underlining the letters. Beneath it is a bowl, a really large bowl, of water:

God help the sons of the devil. Save them from damnation, or let them battle for eternity.

It unsettles him, to say the least, and he goes to wash it off with the water.

ONLY TO BURN HIMSELF AS HIS FINGERS DIP INTO THE BOWL.

Yes. Someone put HOLY WATER under this message.

Damien resolves to simply take a picture, with his phone not his camera, and leave, running into Michael.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home watching Adam and Jack!"

"Sorry, Brother dearest, I don't really HAVE to listen to you."

"If I get home and the house is in ashes-"

"Relax," Michael shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Knowing Jack, he probably doesn't even know how to blink."

He chuckles, but stops as he passes by the creepy, holy water message, not looking at it, but feeling the holy water and the crosses.

And the blood, which he inspects, and finds is from a lamb.

It goes from bad to worse when they notice a pair of men striding toward them.

Damien leads Michael away, warning him, "Ignore them. Hopefully they just walk away."

Neither do, even when the two begin walking faster.

When the two males start gaining, and when one unsheathes a flaming dagger, the brothers make a run for it, but the men give chase.

"What the hell is they're problem!?" Michael snarks, "Why are they following us!?"

"Just keep running!" Damien barks back.

They round a corner, and Michael throws a ball of fire, hitting the unarmed male in the arm, the fire making him howl more than the average person.

The armed male, however, manages a slash across Michael's chest, just enough to leave him heavily wounded.

With Michael now useless, Damien slings him over his shoulders and races for a store full of people, using some telekinesis to throw a stream of water in a foutain to throw off the armed man pursuing them.

He stops when everyone is staring, the man, who I'm aure you've realized by now is an angel, stands in place, unaware of what to do.

"Go 'head," Damien eggs on. "Do it. You can kill us, but wanna try doing it infront of everyone here!?"

The angel eyes all the people, who are whispering and have their phones out, before glaring at Damien and a now standing Michael, sheathing his dagger, and storming away, miracling around a corner to avoid detection.

Both breathe a sigh of relief as they take a seat.

"Any idea on what just happened?"

Michael huffs and rubs some hair out of his face. "Take a guess. Why do Crowley and Aziraphale want was to stay together?"

TV perspective time as the camera zooms in on Damien, who looks over at the wall the angel vanished behind and then down at his feet.

With growing dread music, CUT TO JACK!!!!

Jack is humming as he takes out a tray of chocolate chip cookies, where we that he's also baked 'Welcome Home' cakes, pies, cupcakes, and just about anything else he can think of; don't worry, he made sure to keep the kitchen spotless.

He sets the cookies on the stovetop to cool and admires all the pastries, which makes Aziraphale applaud; he decided to pay Jack a visit because he's the most pleasant, and is closest with Adam.

Speaking of whom, Jack notices the time and calls out to him.

"Hey, Adam! You getting hungry?" He knocks on Adam's bedroom door, ever the good big brother. "I can make you a sandwich, if you want. Grilled cheese, PB and J, bacon-lettuce-tomatoe, even a breakfast sand..."

Jack opens Adam's door to find there's no Adam or Dog in sight and the window is wide open.

CUT TO LUCIUS, who's screaming into a bathroom sink full of water because his campaign officers won't shut up about painting him in a good light to appeal to people's emotions.

He pulls his face out of the water and dries off, growling on frustration when he gets a call from Jack(possibly the hundredth call that day).

This time, when Lucius answers, he sees Jack running with Aziraphale beside him.

"Lucius, hi! How's your day? Great! We're fine! I don't know where Adam is, so Aziraphale and I are looking for him!"

It hits Lucius like a ton of bricks as he writes, 'I thought he was in his room!?'

"So did we, dear boy," Aziraphale replies. "However, he must have left while no one was looking!"

Lucius starts to wonder why no one's kept an eye on him, until he realizes who ALSO left the house and hangs up on Jack, who objects to the action, to call Michael.

CUT TO MICHAEL AND DAMIEN! The two are having lunch in the food court of the mall to shake off the adrenaline of being chased by killer angels, when Lucius calls.

Michael, reluctantly, answers and waves at him, not talking because his mouth is full.

'YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ADAM AND JACK! WHY DID YOU LEAVE!?'

"Calm down, Lucius," Damien groans. "In case you haven't noticed, we've been having a bad day, too."

'Where are you!?'

"Having lunch at a crowded mall because we got attacked by angels."

Lucius furrows his brow in confusion and Damien sends the picture of the creepy graffiti he found.

"Saw it while I was working on an article. Guess we're not as evasive as we thought."

As Lucius inspects it, Michael explains, "The red is lamb's blood, and there's holy water in the bowl. I think someone or something doesn't want us around."

Lucius shakes his head and writes/sends/signs, 'Do either of you know where Adam is? Jack said he ran away.'

"And where's Jack?"

'Looking for him with Aziraphale.'

"So now Jack AND Adam are gone?" Michael gapes.

All three jump out of their skin when Crowley shouts, "WHAT!?" and throws open the bathroom door.

Michael hisses out of emotional-esque pain and Damien groans into his hands as Crowley takes the phone from Lucius and gets really close to it.

"Where are those two right now!?"

"Like we just said, we don't know," Damien replies. "Adam ran away with Dog, so Jack and Aziraphale are going-"

"AZIRAPHALE'S OUT THERE, TOO!?"

Crowley drops the phone on the floor, something we see from Michael's and Damien's perspective, as he shouts, "Hold on, angel, I'm coming!"

With Lucius, the Wagner senator picks up his phone and gulps as he puts all the pieces together:

The message sent by Damien was written by angels, who know that all five brothers are on Earth, and are now planning to wipe them off the face of the planet, whether because of the grand plan or because each can cause the apocalypse, or because Jack and Adam fucked up bringing the apocalypse.

Eother way, he writes to Damien and Michael to, 'FIND THEM NOW.' and hangs up before he sprints out of the bathroom and out of the building, telling his lead secretary to cancel every single one of his plans because of a family emergency.

Now, I lnow what you're wondering, "Where's Adam right now? Did Gabriel get to him first?"

No, silly goose, he's fine.

Adam is walking through the streets with dog at his side, growling at anyone that gets too close. He's been crying for a while, but has stopped now because he just wants to walk and not think about London, which is hard because it's everyone's favorite subject at the moment.

He also wants to get away from his new brothers for a little while. In his mind:

Lucius is not around at all, and when he is, he's kimd of creepy with the whole "not talking" thing.

Damien's too pushy and doesn't give him space to be emotional or get used to his new environment.

Michael's just an asshole- not his words, but true all the same.

And... well, there's no real complaint with Jack. He's okay.

But not even Jack's good nature can change Adam's opinions on the rest of his new brothers.

It doesn't help that Aziraphale and Crowley can't just adopt him, either, because they don't know how his powers fully work, hence why they gave him to the other four.

Too lost in his head, Adam does not notice a trying-not-to-be-angry Gabriel walk up to him from behind, hiding a bottle of holy water as he says, "Hello, Adam."

Adam turns and pales. "Gabriel!? What are you doing here!?"

"I just wanted to check on you. See if you were ready try again with armageddon, all things considered."

Adam backs away, now very disturbed. "Stay away from me," he stammers.

Thank goodness Dog is more observant and bites the bastard, which gets Adam to focus and makes him realize NOW is a good time to run like hell.

He smacks Gabriel with his backpack and flees with Dog following. Gabriel is behind as he clutches his hand before giving chase, cursing that he can't miracle to Adam, that power being taken away from him since his 'falling out,' so he's left to run to chase after Adam, which draws a lot of negative attention, I must say.

Doesn't matter, though, because Adam is simultaneously loosing Gabriel and seeing that he's gaining on him.

That's when a hand grabs his arm and pulls him into a nearby store, throwing him behind a shelf of souvenirs, i.e. knickknacks and plushies, and a rack of keychains.

Gabriel looks through the window and bamgs his forehead against it before leaving, scowling as he trudges away.

Adam watches him as the male that pulled him whistles at the pouting angel.

"I knew Gabriel was always too eager to wear his big boy pants. Glad to see he hasn't changed. Evn though I knew he wouldn't."

Adam looks up at him, a sort of short, kind of stumpy man that looks kind of like if Aziraphale had actually taken being an archangel seriously; culry hair that's a dirty blond-ish, brown, alert eyes that see nothing and everything all at once, dark, sharp clothes, and a know-it-all smirk as he holds a hand out for Adam.

If you watched the show Lucifer on Netflix, you know EXACTLY who this guy is.

Dog doesn't growl at this guy, sensing that he's not going to hurt them.

"Sorry to scare you like that, Adam. I'm your uncle, but please just call me Uriel."

Adam lets Uriel help him up, now really confused.

"How do you know my name?"

"Father's talked a lot about you and your brothers, and I just wanted to see you myself. See just how busy my brother got while he visited this planet." Uriel looks out the window and fights a smirk. "Speaking of brother..."

Cue Jack and Aziraphale racing down the sidewalk as fast as they can before Jack spots Adam and sprints into the store with Aziraphale on his tail. Both are tired, both are a litttle sweaty, but they're so happy to see Adam is okay.

"Adam, there we are!" Jack cries as he and Adam hug and Jack spins him as they do. "We were so worried! I didn't hear you in your room, I'm so sorry!"

Aziraphale lants and simply gives a wave before pushing both boys behind him.

"Uriel."

"Aziraphale. Nice to see you."

The two have a stare down before Aziraphale asks, "Are you going to lead us to a trap or some kind? You know as well as I do there isn't any sort of plan to-"

"Don't talk to me about plans, Aziraphale. I'm the guy who actually MAKES them."

It silences Aziraphale and the brotjers a little on edge.

"Anyway, your brothers will be walking aroumd the corner a block away in about five minutes in the same direction you and Aziraphale were running down. Better get going."

Jack nods and thanks Uriel, leading Adam down the street.

Aziraphale eyes Uriel for a little bit before following the boys, to keep them safe.

Uriel's power holds true as the three meet Damien and Michael.

They all catch each other up as they walk to try and catch a bus.

There are angels in the city and a lot of them don't want the brothers around.

"But Uriel helped me hide from Gabriel. I don't think he wants to hurt us," Adam wonders.

Cue some major confusion from Jack and Michael not wanting to deal with all this because, "We've already got London and the Southwest to worry about. We don't need a bounty on our heads."

The brothers don't have time to think on it because every parent's worst nightmare happens when an angel strides up behind them and throws something down, maybe a holy water bottle and powdered salt to make the brothers back away before flying off with Adam.

The only one to see it happen is Aziraphale and Dog barks at the sky where his master was taken.

The brothers compose themselves and are silent as they realize what's happened.

Not all is lost as Michael gets a text from Crowley on his phone: an address to an old church that was closed down because of poor funding and evrn worse staff that didn't practice what they preached.

Transition from a taxi cab to A few minutes ago and a jet black car SPEEDING down the street fast enough to make Crowley proud, which he is, as Lucius gets filled in on the situation by Damien.

He's actually heading to what could be a very solid guess to where the angel has taken Adam, and Crowley shouts at him to, "Step on it!" when Aziraphale brings up Gabriel and Uriel.

Funny he brings up Uriel, because Lucius has been following him wherever he appears, the archangel having told him about finding Adam and that Lucius needs to trust him to keep Adam safe.

They wind up at an abandoned church, which Crowley hisses at and makes Lucius gag from the sudden nausea, and the senator steps out, gesturing for Crowley to wait in the car.

"Be careful in there."

Lucius gives a thumbs up and leaves, though, TV perspective, the camera would linger on Crowley as he notices a car approach through the rear view mirror.

CUT to Lucius carefully walking up to the church doors as he forces back coughs and gags as he tries opening the door. Key word is tries because it's locked, though he does here someone complaining about how, "The brat has sharp teeth," and, "He won't stop kicking."

To which Gabriel replies, "Just hold him down and keep him quiet."

Stealth time as Lucius ditches the door and walks to the side of the church and climbs up a pipe to reach a window, damn near falling to his death as the pipe gives and falls and leaving him to grab onto and dangle from the leadge of the window as two angels come to inspect.

Lucius scrambles inside and just barley avoids getting caught as he hides against the wall, having a clear view of the inside of the church.

Two angels are working on a salt and lamb's blood symbol much like the one Aziraphale made, the one that sent him to Heavan on accident, as a third angel holds onto a struggling Adam and Gabriel supervises.

The two 'scouts' report that they didn't find anything, just a pipe that broke, which Gabriel comments may have been because of a fat raccoon, and even smells the air a little, before turning to Adam.

Lucius sneaks closer as he watches Gabriel take a small amount of blood from Adam and drip it onto the angel symbol, activating it so it can rid Adam of the devil inside him, aka remove his soul, aka kill him.

LUCIUS IS HAVING NONE OF THAT.

He shakes his head and leaps off the upper level he's been hiding on, landing directly ontop of Gabriel, who throws him off and onto the ground

Lucius wheezes as he sees the abundance of crosses around them and a large bowl if holy water, one that used to be used for baptizing children. He also sees Gabriel dip his fingers into it before kneeling down to get a better look at this new demon that arrived univited.

"Lucius Wagner. I thought I smelled smoke." He flicks his fingers at Lucius, who hisses at the holy water as it touches his skin. "You're oddly more... pleasant to look at than I thought you would be. Then again, evil has a way of looking good, doesn't it?"

Lucuis smirks and signs to him, 'No wonder Heaven doesn't want you either, then.'

Gabriel smacks him for this and checks to see if the symbol is done, which it is, so he orders the three free angels to scout around the church, so no one else interrupts the brothers being exorcised.

Too bad the three can't seem to get the door open, even though they're the ones who locked it.

When the door doesn't budge, Gabriel and the other angels join, leaving Lucius and Adam unguarded, the former crawling towards the bowl of holy water as Adam scooches away from the angel symbol as much as he can, even toward the bowl as well, despite the blistering he feels all over.

Cut to Gabriel trying to open the door and suddenly feeling a little weak as he tries breaking the door, wondering what's going on.

CUT TO OUTSIDE AS AZIRAPHALE AND A SNICKERING URIEL HOLD THE DOOR, HAVING MIRACLED AHEAD OF DAMIEN AND JACK, AS MICHAEL REJOINS THEM, SAYING HE WILL NOT BE PLAYING SANTA CLAUS AGAIN ANYTIME SOON!!!😁

Cut back to inside the church, where Lucius pulls a cross down on the alter and starts getting a little more strength back before he picks up Adam.

Two fallen crosses will have to be enough to allow him some strength as he holds Adam and kicks the bowl of holy water, which washes away the angel symbol and seeps away through the floor boards.

Gabriel sees and hear this and shouts, "No!"

Lucius switches his grip on his brother as he holds up a flaming hand, glaring at the angels.

They retaliate by snagging crosses and charging forward.

Too bad Lucius is good at thinking on his toes and fans some fire out to the back wall behind the alter, which is lined with tapestry and wood.

The flames catch at rise, scaring away the angels and a scowling Gabriel, who has a glare down with Lucius as he carries an unbound Adam in both arms.

Cut to outside as the fire grows. News reporters, police officers, and our squad are outside as firefighters rush in.

Jack is racing between people to get a better look at the tragedy and then holds his hands out before Damien stops him.

"Relax, they're going to be okay."

"But how do you-"

The firefighters race out with an unconscious Gabriel and a coughing, hunched over Lucius, who's still holding Adam. All three are covered in soot and everyone notices that Adam and Lucius are a little injured, but Gabriel is unharmed.

When news reporters crowd Lucius, who is seated in an ambulance and given a shock blanket as he refuses to have Adam taken out of his arms, they start asking the basic and REAL questions:

"Mr. Wagner, were you attacked just now?"

"Did you jump into a burning building to save this boy?"

"Do you know the man that attacked you?"

"Who is the boy you saved?"

"Is it true you adopted three boys into your care?"

"Are you in any ki d of relationship at the moment?"

Before Lucius can answer, Jack plows through with Michael and Damien in toe, Jack hugging a now conscious Adam and Lucius and apologizing for not being a good brother.

Also cue Dog jumping up and kissing Adam and even Lucius.

The press gets a lot of pictures of this, and Damien hugging Lucius, calling him, "snuggle-bug" as he hugs him.

The police see Lucius giving the, 'I'm done, make them stop' signal, and start pushing everyone away, telling them he'd like time alone with his family.

But not after one more question:

"Mr. Wagner, is this your family?"

Lucius nods with a smile, nodding at Jack, Damien, Michael, and Adam.

He also types on his phone to them all, 'No more running away, okay?'

They all agree.

The "episode" ends with Gabriel being locked up in a jail cell for araon and assaulting a politician and a minor and the brothers returning home from the hospital after Lucius and Adam are checked out at the hospital.

There they see all the desserts in a spotless kitchen, surprising Michael and making Lucius start warming up to having a family.

#crossover #sons of the morning star #adam young #damien thorn #jack kline #lucius wagner #michael langdon #ahs #good omens #supernatural #Lucius #american horror story #child endanderment tw #evil angels #lucifer show #the omen

10 notes · View notes

lipstickbisous · 4 years

Text

the lion and her sun. (4)

LOST LANNISTER PRINCESS

notes: so far, every chapter has ended with aurane rejecting oberyn sooo. and yeah some facts abt this might wrong but hey..

we gon pretend like dahlia’s exist in this universe.

and the dress she wears during her walk is très similar to the pink one shae wears in ‘the lion and the rose’. this is for lack of a better picture. (except the dress is orange)

i wrote this while watching the prisoner of azkaban.

none of that matters, but it’s important to me that you know that.

- john mulaney.

ALSO updates might be a little slower now, we’re having HUGE wifi problems at our house but i will definitely keep writing!

pairing: oberyn x oc!reader

summary: on her last day before the married life, aurane’s emotions start to change.

word count: 6.5k

masterlist

the week was coming to an end, much to aurane’s dismay. for the past three days, she had much to think about and do. her walk with oberyn had thoughts racing around in her head when she had gone to sleep that night. even resting naked against the silk sheets, her pillow pressed to her face with her sprawled out behind her head and her eyes gently shut, memories of the gardens and the prince were floating about, refusing aurane’s begs to go so she could ease into unconsciousness.

when her father had spoken of the sudden and upsetting news to aurane, cersei had spoken of how the dornish would be obligated to use the youngers lannister anyway they wanted.

“they’ll humiliate her, torture her,” aurane’s dear sister spoke. “you’re going to send her off to her death. a lamb for slaughter.”

now, as aurane watched the sun rise with the silk sheets pulled up to cover her bare breasts, she wondered if her sister, cersei lannister, who had never been wrong about anything, had seriously misjudged the martell family. the princess hadn’t been in the city to meet the common people yet and she hoped that they would be exactly like the royals of sunspear.

she could hear the bustling of early-rising maidens attending to their chores outside of her door. the child inside of aurane couldn’t wait to see what breakfast she would be brought this morning.

it must’ve been hours since she had risen from her sleep because the sun now sat in its throne in the sky and there was a knock on the door. “i have your breakfast, your grace.” a sweet voice spoke but the unfamiliar accent made it hard to decipher.

“come in,” aurane spoke, pulling up two of her pillows against the headboard of her bed and leaning her back towards them. it might’ve been the way she had slept but there was ache throughout her spine. the girl who walked in could’ve been no older than aurane. her hair was curly and frizzy and her skin a light brown. her lips were perfectly shaped and her nose curved into a more rounded one. the girl set down the tray of food at the table near aurane’s window, but before she could set out the plate, cutlery, and goblet, aurane spoke. “forgive me, but i don’t think you’ve ever served me before.”

the girl nodded and curtsied. “my name is dyanna,” she said.

“and where are you from,” aurane questioned before sitting back up and pushing herself off of the bed she’d found more comfortable than any other. along with her she took the silk sheets and held them against her chest so they covered her breasts, stomach, and ass. she sat at her table and smiled when seeing that breakfast that morning consisted of fresh bread, butter and jam, berries, and more orange juice. “dyanna.”

aurane’s interest in a someone of lower-class was unusual for any maiden to experience, even in dorne. “i’m from meereen, your grace.” before aurane could pop a grape into her mouth or slice off a thin piece of bread, she grinned.

“meereen?” she questioned, to which dyanna nodded. aurane set the grape down on her plate and sighed, the smile still lingering. “i’ve never met someone from essos.”

dyanna smiled with her hands held together. “no?” aurane shook her head before finishing half of her orange juice. in the past few days, it the only thing other than wine that aurane could drink. new flavors were being brought to her with every meal and the lannister princess couldn’t get enough.

“no. my father always kept me in the red keep,” she divulged, smearing butter onto a slice of bread and jam on half of it. “tell me, dyanna of meereen,” aurane inquired before biting down on a small piece of bread. the crust was crunchy in her mouth and the jam, the sweetness of strawberries and sugar, contrasted the tecture. “if my knowledge of geography is correct, meereen is just on slaver’s bay.”

it was hesitant, but dyanna nodded silently in response. when aurane kept eating, popping a berry in her mouth between every other bite, she confessed, “i was born a slave and raised into it, your grace,” the princess sat back, leaving her loaf of bread on the plate along with the few berries left. her gaze softened, showing that she was listening, as her eyes focused on the sea. “i was sold to sunspear and sent to work for prince doran but he freed me.”

slavery had never been something that aurane had first-hand witnessed but her beliefs on it remained negative, unlike her sister and father, who couldn’t have cared less about those born lower than them. it was always a flaw that aurane had seen. “so, you’re a free woman,” aurane looked to the coffered ceiling and clutched her goblet of juice in her hand. “but you choose to work as a maiden?”

dyanna only shrugged, her posture remaining ideal. “what could i do?”

aurane laughed before sipping the rest of her drink and setting it down next to her half-full plate. “you could own a stand in the market. or work at one at least,” aurane sat back in her seat, mindlessly letting the sheets slip a bit, revealing the top of her breast. “collect enough money to buy your own place, or...” dyanna looked up in interest and aurane smirked. “purchase your own land.”

the maiden laughed and shook her head. aurane had then finished her breakfast and felt the breeze of the dornish mornings through the strands of her hair. “i’m fine here, your grace.” aurane kindly nodded as dyanna took the tray in her arms and sighed. before leaving the bedroom and closing the door, she piped up, “oh, your grace, forgive me. i forgot to mention it, but prince oberyn has told me to inform you that he would like another walk...before the wedding.”

dyanna then shut the door behind her before aurane could smile in silence. for the short time she’d been awake that morning, the princess hadn’t once thought anything about her marriage. dorne had entranced aurane and fabricated an entire sort of bliss in her mind.

there wasn’t much to do that day anyway. the wedding was already planned and she’d already worn the wedding dress to have it sized perfectly--during which aurane had been poked with needles twice but brush it off when the maiden apologized mercifully.

another stroll around the gardens, even if it was with the prince, didn’t sound so bad.

this time, aurane had worn an outfit less revealing than her last one. she’d spent an afternoon one day diving through her dresser and wardrobes to see what exactly oberyn had given her. most were two-piece outfits that aurane didn’t see herself comfortable with wearing just yet, but others were fine dresses made of soft and translucent linens. in the bottom drawers of her dresser were at least nine different pairs of...pants? aurane had never worn pants before. in casterly rock and king’s landing, women were always required to be clothed in robes down to their feet. the princess supposed that along with a new home came new opportunities.

well, that inner voice in her head spoke at she bit her bottom lip while holding a pair of trousers that were a dark shade of brown. there’s no point in not trying.

aurane stood with the pants in her hands, naked in her room--in all of her glory--and sighed before slipping her feet through the corresponding holes of the clothing. she pulled the pants up to her waist where it had felt comfortable and tied the two loose strings along the sides together the pants tightened around her stomach.

there was nothing much for aurane to say about them except for the fact that she entirely did not enjoy them. she looked to the mirror and noticed how they bagged around her thighs as she pinched the areas that left gaps between her skin and the material of the pants. aurane pulled them off as quickly as possible and pitched them into the woven basket she’d been given on her third day for dirty laundry.

she began to dive into the wardrobe again before noticing the pale orange dress that had been hung directly in the center of her closet. the silk had nearly been invisible because when aurane slipped it onto her frame, she could see her legs and breasts through the fabric. it was then she remembered the prince’s sudden mention of undergarments and wraps that had been placed inside the dressers as well. the entire process of wearing a simple dress that fit perfectly took far too long for aurane then removed the clothing from her body, wrapped a cloth around her bust and backside, then placing the dress back on her frame. it hadn’t been too entirely hot that day, so the simple sheer fabric of the robe had been perfect against aurane’s skin.

by then, with the sun’s position in the sky, it had already been an hour before lunch and aurane’s stomach began to rumble with a yearning for the dornish food she’d grown so attached to over the past week. the princess placed a hand over her torso and sighed. she supposed it would be best to wait for oberyn to arrive just as he had the other day.

almost half an hour flew, and aurane was still waiting. as of now, she sat in a chair by her window, quill, ink, and paper in her lap as she drew the outline of the great palm tree in front of her room. she hadn’t once looked down to see what her drawing would turn out to be; it was an art technique she had been taught in king’s landing. aurane had already finished several other drawings of whatever the view from her window brought and they sat by her feet on the floor. finally, after an illusion of hours, there was a knock on her door.

aurane hated to admit that she immediately jumped off of her chair and onto her feet, running to the door to see the prince. but when she opened the door, it was a large man, taller than any other she’d seen, with rich dark skin and a bald head. “captain?” she cocked an eyebrow.

the guard nodded. “prince oberyn waits for you outside of the west wing of the castle,” areo hotah was one of the most intimidating men that aurane had ever seen and she had been trained by ser gregor in her teenages years--of course, it was never something to mention to the martells.

aurane chewed the inside of her cheek nervously and blushed. “right, um,” she said, looking back to her room and shaking her head before letting out a small laugh that didn’t change the guards’ expressions at all. “well, i guess i’m going.” areo let her leave the room before closing her doors behind her. they then walked down the hallways of the dornish castle, aurane in front with several of her guards behind her. the seven then turned a corner and was brought to another door at the end of the hallway. aurane laughed sheepishly and turned to the captain.

“the west wing is that way, your grace,” he pointed behind the group, in the opposite direction of how they had been walking. as much as aurane wanted to roll her eyes--because why hadn’t he mentioned it before?--she smiled politely and turned on her heel to the west wing.

they trailed down staircases, strolled down through hallways that all began to look the same, and took sharp turns and corners. “if you don’t mind my asking,” aurane spoke with her eyes focused on any sign of where she was in the castle. “why is the prince not at the front entrance? or the gardens?”

areo laughed deeply, a sound that came straight from the depths of his chest. “the prince has special plans today, your grace.” over the last few days, aurane had been reassured that she would remain safe in dorne. but with the captain’s sudden statement, a fear washed over aurane again.

the princess truly had no idea what was in the west wing. the east held all of the royal’s bedrooms, the north had the guest rooms, and the south was for the maidens, chefs, and laborers of the castle. but the remaining had always remained a mystery until now.

“elia martell’s room used to be here, your grace,” the captain spoke again. aurane’s straightforward footsteps began to slow in pace as the realization sunk in. “it’s been abandoned since her death.” without stopping in her walk, aurane sighed. it was quiet again, with only the marching steps of the guards, the wooden ends of the spears against the floor, and loud thoughts in aurane’s head for her to hear. “prince oberyn is just this way, your grace.” areo pointed down a staircase to where there was a little wooden door with a lining of light around it.

sickness began to overtake aurane’s body as she thought about the one specific princess who once habited this part of the castle. how aurane’s family had brutally slaughtered this princess and her children; how they sent her off as a peace treaty. aurane hadn’t noticed it, but she then stood directly in front of the door, staring at the knob. areo, from behind her, cleared his throat for it was a tight staircase and not all six of the guards, including him, could fit inside. she was knocked out of her thoughts and pushed the door open, the sudden sunlight burning her eyes from becoming used to the dim lighting of the castle. she mentally hissed and slapped a hand over her eyes before they met other brown ones.

“good morning, lion,” oberyn smiled. behind him were several more guards holding spears taller than them. the brightness of the sun didn’t seem to affect him at all as aurane gently squinted. “come, we’ll find shade.”

when aurane was by his side, he placed a gentle hand on her back, just as he did nights ago when she had silently rejected him. “and where exactly are we going this time?”

the prince chuckled. “well, you are to be a princess of dorne by tomorrow,” he smiled as they began to walk. it was then, when aurane could finally see in the light, that she noticed they were in a similar space as the docks. behind a large wall, extremely close to the ocean that aurane could almost feel it on her skin. “i figured you would want to meet the city.”

two of his guards stood by an alike door to that of what was located in the castle. it was old and smelled moldy like it hadn’t been used in a long time. aurane laughed. “a secret entrace?” she looked up to the prince with an arched eyebrow. “you really think dorne won’t like me that you had to take me to a secret entrance?”

oberyn shrugged. “i didn’t think you would want the attention.” the two guards swung the door open and aurane could instantly hear the bustling and yelling of the city of sunspear. she looked to oberyn, who stood only two inches taller than her, and sighed before ducking to fit inside the small door frame and entered the city.

it had almost been like magic because the wall had been so thick and strong it kept out all sound of a well-growing economy. as far as aurane could see, there were large structures and houses built all over the land. on the second floors of those buildings must’ve been the homes to thousands of dornish citizens because below them on the first floor were market and small shops and trading centers. it had been so similar to king’s landing yet sunspear reminded aurane nothing of home.

the prince was quiet for a few seconds because not one common person had noticed their presence. “do you like it?” he asked.

aurane smiled but oberyn hadn’t seen it. she slowly nodded as she whispered a, “yeah,” but soon caught herself in such a vulnerable state. “it’s not like i have much of a say whether i like it or not, do i?”

her sarcastic and audacious remarks had no effect on the prince anymore or, really, anyone of dorne. she hadn’t seen ellaria since she’d brought her lunch but even her maidens and servants didn’t seem bothered. it was like their pride could never be tainted. without saying anything in response, oberyn simply cocked his head and they began to walk again.

the soldiers followed a foot behind them but yet maintained a distance for a discussion or even a simple conversation to take place. at least three ladies had recognized the prince and gently curtsied before returning to their daily duties. oberyn must’ve noticed aurane’s confused state because he answered with, “everyone in dorne is treated equal. farmers and marketers are treated just how i am treated.”

even aurane had to admit that the system the people of sunspear followed was fair and nice. “they just...” she shook her head, her eyes trailing over anything to look at by the second. “they don’t look so surprised.”

oberyn shrugged. “i come for walks often,” his hands were holding each together behind his back but every part of him wanted to place just a soft, caring hold on aurane. “the guards are a requirement of my brother.”

why was he so kind? why, even after the slaughtering his family had gone through, the pain he’d felt in his life, was he so kind? even better, how could he be so sweet and patient and loving to those below him? it made a regurgitative feeling arise in aurane’s stomach and she could feel the contents of her breakfast reaching her throat before sighing and swallowing it back down, cringing in disgust.

“you’re distressed, my sun,” the pet name, which aurane had secretly grown found of but would never admit, made her slightly cower. “what’s wrong?”

the prince’s eyes trailed over the variety of fruits and vegetables being sold by one vender as aurane chose her words carefully. “i fear i’ve been...disrespectful,” it was long overdue but oberyn was patient. “from the moment we arrived in dorne, you’ve been nothing but- but hospitable and welcoming. and i’ve been...vile. and rude,” he only nodded for her to continue, sensing she had a whole loads of words to speak. “perhaps it was my sister who drove this fear into me that i wouldn’t be accepted here.”

a kind smile between a vendor and oberyn was exchanged from his viewing of the products, but he listened intently to every word. “growing up, you were taught we were animals.”

aurane nodded and laughed incredulously. “savages,” she corrected him. such biased opinions had been written in the books she’d read as a child when learning about westeros. “and during the past week, i’ve found you’re nothing like the sort.”

the prince chuckled and smiled so that butterflies flew down aurane’s throat and into her stomach, where they would remain. “oh, really?”

her eyes watched as he turned to look at every sort of item being sold that day. suddenly, his kindness was a likable attribute to aurane and she blushed with a sly smirk. “if i’m telling the truth here,” he nodded. “you might even be better than those in king’s landing.”

“well, it’s not hard to be better than a lannister.” his remark wasn’t hateful or vengeful as oberyn smirked back and for a second, aurane had forgotten that there were guards behind her or merchants and traders and farmers all around. it felt like it was just the two of them enjoying them a quiet afternoon and a simple conversation. she quite liked it. “perhaps we should find lunch somewhere.”

aurane furrowed her eyebrows with a crooked smile before hesitantly laughing. “you mean,” she found no falter in the prince’s expression. “dining in a- a what, a restaurant?”

this seemed to take oberyn by surprise because, and it was the only time aurane could find him doing this that day, he laughed unsurely. the red viper was never unsure and even he himself couldn’t say what was happening. “well, yes,” his eyes began to scan over the many shops and restaurants in search of a meal. “that is what restaurants tend to do.”

such comment was not meant to be sarcastic or snarky or rude. it was a mindless thought that oberyn had just happened speak out. “i’ve never been in a restaurant,” aurane whispered and looked to the ground. would the owners of whatever eating house oberyn picked be peaceful with a lannister princess dining in their business.

oberyn had heard her mumble but said nothing of it. there was a pit at the bottom of his stomach, it’d been there since his sister was murdered, and he hadn’t felt such sympathy in that pit from elia’s death until now, when aurane muscles grew tense because people were starting to look.

there were whispers. the worst kind of whispers; the kind where it seemed as if every person had something to say but it was impossible to make out. eyes were glued to the couple yet hands remained at their jobs. oberyn had never seen his city spark in such controversy. had aurane been right? would they treat her differently? he looked to the girl beside him and found that she was hearing the whispers too yet there was no stall in her walk. if someone had quickly glanced at her, she would glare back at them. her chin was raised high and oberyn, such as he had done with ellaria, felt compassion and admiration.

he gulped silently at the sudden change of heart in his city. as they began to walk further and further, growing deeper in sunspear, the whispers began to fade in and out. the rumored lannister princess was finally showing her face. “here, my sun,” he pointed to a small tavern with trays of produce and potted flowers in front of the windows. “i’ve been told you can handle the dornish spices.”

aurane blushed and nodded as the sudden mention of such topic caused her mind to flash to ellaria. she wanted to see the older lady again desperately and she wasn’t sure why. the entrace of the restaurant was not grand or heavenly or designed with a golden intricate design. it was a simple tavern with at least sixty plants hung and placed on the perimeter. it had been one large room and, for the time of day, strangely empty. aurane suspected that the prince had reserved it in secret but she wouldn’t comment on it.

before either of them stepped foot into the tavern, oberyn placed a gentle hand on her forearm and pointed to one of the potted plants that held six white flowers with layers of small triangular petals. a few of the flowers had a pink hue to them but the white ones took aurane by interest.

“a dahlia,” the prince smiled, gently dragging his fingers over the petals. his eyes seemed entranced over the small plant. “you don’t see them very much.”

aurane smiled and turned to oberyn. “they grow rarely in king’s landing,” her words were sweet but there was something in oberyn’s gaze that seemed so reminiscent. he was longing for something. “what is it?”

he chewed the inside of his cheek and aurane turned to the guards standing protectively behind them. even they seemed aware of whatever oberyn had been feeling. “elia’s favorite flower,” his lips curled with a raspy voice before picking the flower from it’s stem and holding it between his two fingers. oberyn then looked to aurane, who was more understanding now, and wove the flower through her hair until it sat behind her ear. aurane could only smile.

―

the day was ending and the sun was starting to set. a large lunch had filled aurane’s stomach so there was no room for dinner. oberyn must’ve been the same because on their walk back to the castle, he, too, walked with heavy feet. the guard’s behind them didn’t stumble in their steps as the sunlight was fading.

“i hoped you enjoy our walk today,” oberyn spoke, his hands behind his back as they strolled along the secret pathway. while exiting the city through the small door just as they had done earlier that day, aurane had been careful to crouch down so that her flower would stay woven in her hair.

she nodded and listened to the waves because there wasn’t much else to here. the bustling of the city was muffled by the wall but aurane didn’t mind a little of bit of silence as the day ended. “i think i did,” the dahlia, which had at first felt strange when touching her temple was now softly brushing against her skin. “and i did enjoy lunch.” she turned to the prince.

“i don’t suppose you still want dinner?” he asked politely, looking down only two inches to her height. most of the woman oberyn had been with, apart from ellaria, could only reach his shoulder but the top of aurane’s head touched just below his nose.

it was peaceful for him to watch her laugh so effortlessly and genuinely as the shore threatened to crash above the pathaway. they’d been inches away from the water but yet no sign of fear arose. “no, i think i’ve had my fill for the day.”

a nod in response before oberyn sighed, “join me in my chambers.” just as his voice normally did toward the end of the day, he sounded raspy and tired yet every part of him was awake while he looked at aurane.

was it an offer for a night of pleasure? the rumors of oberyn and his countless lovers had been spread all throughout westeros and he didn’t seem ashamed by them. aurane had no problem with bedding someone before she was married, she’d done it before, but she hadn’t thought that the prince would draw her close just for a fuck. the prince laughed and shook his head, noticing aurane’s train of thought. “i can promise you, lion, it’s not like that,” he chuckled out. aurane’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. “when was the last time you had a bath?”

they were now in the abandoned west wing that remained darker than the rest of the castle, but aurane didn’t find it unpleasant or frightening. oberyn could barely find the courage to walk around these quarters of the castle himself but aurane, who had lived with the family responsible of the death of the former inhabitant of sunspear, strolled so unbothered down those halls. it wasn’t because she had no care for elia martell’s death, if anything it was the opposite, but no--this was because aurane could swallow the lannister pride and respect the fact that her father slaughtered oberyn’s sister.

once they had arrived in the east wing, oberyn turned to his soldiers and cocked his head for them to leave him and aurane. because they had been under prince doran’s command, they each shared a glance of hesitation but one simple stern eye and a whispered “have my maidens fetch warm water for my room” and they continued to walk down the hallway, leaving the oncoming couple alone. “you wouldn’t oppose a bath, would you?”

aurane’s first experience of a bath in dorne had been lovely, mainly due to the spices and scents of the salts and soaps she combed through her hair. she sighed heavily, her chest rising with her breath before smiling, “no, i don’t think i would.” the rest of their walk was in sweet silence. the castle seemed to be asleep--the gardens were empty and the hallways barren of the normal maidens hurrying down to each room. aurane noticed that they walked past her room and she wondered just how close her and oberyn had been to each other this entire time. the floors, still a pristine polished marble, seemed to glimmer as the last of the sun could be seen in the sky. finally, they had arrived at oberyn’s door, which were exactly the same as aurane’s.

she chuckled and looked back down the hallway to where her doors stood and then back at the prince. “all this time and you’ve been down the hallway?” oberyn shrugged and opened the door for the princess. she bit on her tongue when she was instantly greeted with the overpowering aroma of citrus sugar.

“don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now?” the prince smirked and aurane showed no hesitation as she sauntered confidently into the room, soon slowing her steps.

his room had been much bigger than hers, yet held the same amount of furniture and looked still so full. the bed was placed next to the equivalent wall that aurane’s bed was in her room. the windows were so close to the bed that it seemed to her morning’s must’ve been perfect because the sun could just simply leak in through the windows and darken the skin of whoever lied upon the bed. next to the opening of the room was a desk that held what looked like to be hundreds of crumpled papers and a quill and its ink. on the opposite side of his room was a large wooden tub that could hold multiple bodies and the simple thought of who had been in there before almost sickened aurane. the tub had been filled to the brim with warm water and on a small table beside it were various soaps and salts.

it was sudden but the door had been closed and oberyn’s hands landed on aurane bare shoulders. she shuddered gently and he immediately removed his touch. “lion,” he spoke steadily and turned aurane to him.

they both turned so their backs faced each other and she could hear him unbuttoning his top. her fingers did their best to trail over the clip in the rear of her dress but fumbled over the soft fabric. she sighed and turned to the prince but found he’d already reversed back to her. his chest was completely bare as he was only dressed in his pants. he must’ve silently slipped his boots off because his feet were also bare against the marble. he cocked his head and pushed on her shoulder so she turned once again. his index and thumb found the clip so simply and undid it so the fabric feel loose against her body, but her hands flew to her chest to catch it from falling completely off. there a crumpling noise of leather dropping into a heap on the floor. water splashed apart and together until it was silent again. while keeping her back facing oberyn, aurane turned her head and met his eyes.

he sat against the side of the tub with his arms held up along the edge of the wood. “are you scared, lion?” he asked so sweetly yet remained so stern.

the only thing that stood in the way of aurane standing as naked as the day she was born in front of the prince was her hands clutching onto the dress. “close your eyes.” she whispered. oberyn only sighed and rose a hand over his eyes, gently squeezing them shut for reassurance. the dress cascaded down to the floor with an inaudible sound. she stepped one foot in the water and the warmth instantly felt calming. once aurane stood completely in the tub, she began to sink to the bottom, where she sat with the surface of her bath reaching just above her breasts.

“can i open?” the prince asked.

aurane brought her knees to her chest and spoke aloud a, “yes.” her arms wrapped around her legs as oberyn rested his hand again and smiled. somehow, despite her cowering position, aurane felt more confident than ever with all of her body exposed.

that sly smile spread over oberyn’s face again as twirled his finger for aurane to turn around. she did so and sat closer to him in between his legs. her breath almost hitched when she felt his length against her back but he didn’t act upon it. instead, he lathered his hands with a lemon-scented shampoo and combed it throughout the strands of aurane’s hair. it was a soothing feeling as his fingertips gently massaged her scalp and aurane could’ve fallen asleep right there. once her hair was completely covered in the suds, oberyn then cupped his hands into the water and poured it over her head, watching as the soap washed out fairly easily.

she chuckled. “how many girls have you given baths too?” she noted his expertise. it wasn’t every man who knew who to treat a woman’s hair--not in westeros.

once her hair was completely cleaned and dripping and pushed it to the side of her neck so her back was bare. he placed a soft kiss against the top of her spine, “do you want to know?” and began to caress her arms with the bar of soap. aurane gently shook her head and smiled. for a month, she’d be tense and anxious for what her fate awaited for her. for the past week, while remaining in her room she’d grown closer and closer to that fate and could not see perfectly clear what it was. and if it really was this, she didn’t mind. a finger was suddenly brushed over a raw piece of skin on her arm and she shivered under the touch.

oberyn’s eyebrows furrowed in concern before sitting up and looking over the top of aurane’s arm. “lion,” he cooed, gazing at the ruined skin--a scar. “how did you acquire such a wound?”

the question was one that aurane didn’t have to answer often because it was only her family who had seen it and she’d never left the castle for anyone else to glimpse her scar.

“fire,” she spoke as he continued to gently rub over the healed wound with one hand, and the other poured water over the soap on her body. the sun had now completely set and the stars were glimmering over the surface of the water. the moonlight had such an effect on aurane’s frame--there was a silver lining against her curves and edges and oberyn wanted nothing more than to cherish it. “casterly rock didn’t like how the last lannister child was a bastard, furthermore with a rumored dornishwoman. i had never seen the city until i was four namedays,” the prince remained quiet as another kiss was placed on her shoulder. “my father had been hesitant about letting me into the festivals. but my brother had begged. he said ‘she’ll never learn to be a good ruler if she can’t know her people’, so papa had my sister escort me along with four other guards.”

a kiss on her knuckles as he held her hand. “and?”

“i’d gotten lost along the way. i didn’t think it was possible for a city to hate a child so much but i’d been proven wrong.” underneath the water, aurane moved her hands in such delicate motions. “i was in alley or- something like that, i can’t remember. but there were two men there and a woman. they were sneering and laughing at the little lost lannister princess,” a kiss on her wrist. “one was holding a candle since the sun was setting for the festivities to begin, and as i was trying to walk away, they pressed the fire against my arm,” the memories were still there in aurane’s mind but they didn’t spark anger or vengeance in her. she had accepted it. “my sister then found me and my father had them hanged.”

oberyn chuckled and planted a firm kiss on her neck. the loving and affectionate actions hadn’t taken aurane by surprise. she knew of the prince’s ways and respects. “lannisters are dangerous people.”

he talked of her family as if she wasn’t a part of it. maybe she wasn’t--maybe aurane wasn’t a lannister like her father or siblings because her mother had been a dornishwoman and aurane had been born a bastard. “yes, they are.”

―

suddenly, all the peace and comfort aurane had felt during her first week in sunspear dissolved into dust and blown away in the cool evening breeze she loved to feel after the hot days of dorne. the last time she’d been pampered was her last day in king’s landing. her maidens had braided her hair and her sister had applied the sheer cover of make-up to her skin that wasn’t needed very much. during her week, aurane had dressed herself and brushed her own hair and washed her own body, but now, she sat in a chair in front of her mirror with several maidens surrounding her. one was twirling and brushing and braiding her hair, another was powdering her face, and the last was tying the loose strings in the back of aurane’s dress.

why was she so nervous? the night before had been so simple--oberyn showed love and they’d bathed and because he was so understanding, she returned to her chambers where she slept for only two hours.

a maiden giggled. “it’s a wonder, your grace,” she admired. “i sleep only four hours through the night and i always wake up with darkness under my eyes.”

aurane smiled in response and nodded quietly. her dress was the usual white, but behind it was a golden tint in honor of the lannister house, although she knew that dorne wanted nothing to do with their enemies. she looked at her reflection and her mirror and liked what she saw, but despite her beauty and fairness, her fingers absentmindedly began to fiddle with each other.

she sighed fairly and the maidens looked to each other on what to say. the oldest one, who looked about aurane’s sister’s age, stumbled on her words before noting, “i hope you know you look heavenly, your grace,” she leaned down and tucked a strand of hair behind aurane’s ear.

the princess smiled in response before the second maiden spoke, “very heavenly, indeed,” aurane looked back to her reflection and attempted to smile with pride but it came out slightly unhinged. “the prince is a good man. you’re marrying a very good man.”

a knock echoed through aurane’s room as she inhaled deeply, sticking out her chest. the first maiden went to the door and the two other followed suite. aurane did not turn to see who was at the door because she knew, by tradition, it could not be oberyn.

“my lady,” a maiden curtsied before ellaria sand could brush her off.

the older woman bowed her head back and looked to aurane. the sound of her voice, so peaceful and loving and...maternal, piqued interest in the princess and she smiled at the sight of oberyn’s lover. ellaria wore a bright yellow linen dress with golden plating on her shoulders that were attached to more honey-colored pieces of fabric that cascaded down her arms and to the floor. she looked heavenly. “are you ready, lion?”

aurane’s gaze softened and her lips parted.

tags: @ohpedromypedro @zeldasayer @pascalpapi @absurdthirst @cyarikaaa @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @pedropascalonline @pedropascalito @pedropascalitofics @honeychicanawrites @otherthingsinhead @wakalas @pedropascalispapi @heavenbarnes @qveenbvtch @foreverlostindreams @forever-rogue @arianawills @liadamerondjarin @pascalisthepunkest

146 notes · View notes

froggy-1988 · 3 years

Text

Valentine's Day - Have a quick TTS story

“He was beheaded!” Rapunzel’s eyes were wide.

“Well, the story goes that he died for love, the king at the time had banned marriages, but Saint Valentine was a priest and he continued to perform marriages in secret.” Cassandra explained patiently.

Eugene had been trying to lead his girlfriend out of the castle for a surprise Valentine’s date, they’d made it to the courtyard before they’d seen Lance enthusiastically telling a story to a rather bored looking Cass. Naturally Rapunzel had bounded up to them on bare feet, telling them excitedly that it was Saint Valentine’s day, and naturally Cassandra had interrupted to tell her what Valentine’s day was actually about. Or rather Cassandra’s bloody version of it with wars and beheadings.

“But he died?”

“Yes.” Eugene said.

“Most people don’t live long without a head.” Cassandra added.

“And we celebrate the day he died?” Rapunzel said looking confused.

“I think you are looking too much at the graphic details of this.” Eugene said sending an annoyed glance over at Cassandra as he placed a protective hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder

“And besides.” Lance said. “He probably didn’t even die on February the fourteenth, that date was probably chosen to fit in with the pagan Feast of Lupercalia.”

The three friends turned to look at him.

“What? I know stuff.”

“The point I’m trying to make is, we are not celebrating the death, but more the notion of him being willing to face death in the name of love.” Eugene said with another pointed look at his friend.

Rapunzel’s eyebrows furrowed as she thought about that, then she broke out in a big smile.

“Oh, like when you died for me?” She leaned into him and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “My Saint Eugene.”

“If he’d really died then he wouldn’t be here to annoy us now.” Cassandra pointed out. “You know Eugene, if you really wanted to die for love I could go and find my lucky halberd and help you out.”

“Cass, my hair dousn’t have healing powers anymore, I wouldn’t be able to bring him back.”

“That’s the point.”

“Well then technically you would have died for love twice, and Saint Valentine only died for love once, so you would outrank him. We could rename the day Saint Eugene’s day.” Lance pointed out. “You’d be famous.”

“I’m already famous.”

“That’s the problem you have with that?” Rapunzel said quietly.

“Oh, famous thief turned romantic who dies twice for love, now that is a story that I would want to read. I mean, it has all the right elements, the beautiful princess, the cute animal companion, the roguish best friend with a heart of gold, that’s me by the way.” Lance continued.

“I am not going to die just because it would make a good story. Well, not again anyway. Now will you please leave us alone, I’ve got a romantic valentines day planned and it does not include you two.” Eugene snapped.

“Ahh Eugene, can’t they come on our Valentine’s day date?” Rapunzel asked. “I heard people in the market saying it was bad to be alone for Valentine’s day. We can’t let our friends be alone.”

“I personally prefer it.” Cassandra answered.

“No can do, I am working a shift at the duckling.” Lance said. “But thanks for the invite Princess.”

“See Eugene, we have to find Cassandra a date to spend Valentines’ day with.” Rapunzel said.

“Did somebody say date!” An excited vice called.

Cassandra groaned as she saw Varian racing over the flagstones of the courtyard towards them.

“Varian! My man!” Eugene said rushing towards him and clapping him on the back. “Just in time. Rapunzel here did not want to leave our delightful Cass alone, but now you’re here you can keep her company.”

“Uh sure. I came here to see…”

“See Rapunzel!” Eugene said quickly rushing over and leading Rapunzel towards the gate. “Lance is going to be with the pub thugs and Cassandra has our favorite alchemist inventor boy to play with, so we can go on our date safe in the knowledge that nobody is alone.”

Rapunzel glanced over her shoulder one more time as she walked through the gates.

“Well, I guess that’s alright.”

“Go, have fun.” Cassandra shouted after them. She herself turned on her heels to walk back to the castle.

“Hey wait up!” She heard Varian call from behind her, he jogged to keep up. “I uh, came here to see you actually.”

“What is it Varian?” Cassandra asked stopping, apparently too quickly as Varian staggered and almost fell over his own feet.

“I um…” He nervously ran his hand through his hair as one hand searched through the pockets of his leather jerking pulling out a glass bottle full of a green looking substance. “I made you a valentine’s day gift.”

Cassandra eyed the bottle in his hand suspiciously, for a second she was worried that it might be some kind of explosive. Then, she was excited that it might be some kind of explosive, that would definitely put her ahead of the game in defending the castle.

“It’s uh.. a fragrance oil.” Varian explained. “You know, for smelling nice. I mean, not that you don’t smell nice… but…”

Cassandra reached out and took it from him.

“Thanks, I guess.” She said. “But why’s it green? Aren’t most perfume oils sort of pinkish?”

“The floral ones are but I guessed you weren’t really a floral kinda girl, I mean lady, so I made it with herbs.”

“Herbs?”

“Yeah, thyme, sage, rosemary.”

“Like you put on a roast chicken?”

“Or lamb…” Varian stuttered.

“Oh, so it’ll make me smell like a dead farmyard animal. Thanks.

“Well.. no more like a …roasted farmyard animal.” His shoulders slumped. “I just thought you might like it. Most perfumes are flowery and I thought this smelt more fresh, more invigorating. You know....more you.”

Cassandra sighed and put her hand on Varian’s shoulder.

“Look, kid, I’m sorry I was tough on you. I always find this day hard.”

“Because you don’t have a date?”

“No, because everybody thinks that I should be miserable because I don’t have a date, and honestly, I’m not all that bothered. I like being alone.” Cassandra said frustratedly thinking of all the years that had passed where she had been shot sympathetic looks by other women.

“Oh.” Varian said with a sigh.

“But it’s better being with friends.” Cassandra corrected herself. “Like you.”

Varian’s face brightened. She took the stopper out of the scented oil bottle, the strong smell of rosemary hit her nose, she didn’t actually dislike it, and Varian was right that she’d didn’t like to wear the flowery perfumes when she was training,

“Thank you.”

Varian smiled at her hopefully.

“Anything for a friend.” He said.

“I uh.. “Cassandra hesitated for a moment. “So, uh.. do you want to help me put up the decorations in the main hall?”

“Yes! Absolutely. I uh mean…. I’m not doing anything else so..” He tried to sound casual.

Cassandra gave him a small smile.

“You know one of the perks of being my co-lady in waiting is that you get to taste test all the sweet pastries the chef is making for tonight’s Valentine’s day ball.”

“Awesome!” Varian said punching the air. “I will be the best Valentine’s day taste tester ever.”

Cassandra smiled fondly at him as they walked side by side back to the castle.

#tangled varian #tangled the series #tts varian #tangled the series cassandra #tangled fanfiction #tts cassandra #tts fanfic #cassarian #tts rapunzel #tangled rapunzel #rapunzel

17 notes · View notes

mykie-min · 5 years

Text

Come Home - Part 2

Themes: Poly!BTS, Hybrid AU

Warnings: none that I can think of yet

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I didn’t play on posting this for a few more days, but the first part got so much love that I wanted to just do it now. I have most of part 3 thought out, so I’ll try to start on it this weekend. Thank you so much for reading!

The sun had set by the time you reached their home. Jin parked in front of the house, turning to look at the scene behind him, an adoring smirk gracing his face. In the duration of the half hour drive from the city, the maknae’s had all managed to curl around you, the excess warmth and sound of rain against the windows effectively lulling all four of you to sleep. You’d turned on Taehyung’s lap, side curled into his chest, head tucked under his chin. Legs bent over Jimin’s lap, who himself was slumped against Tae’s side, head on his shoulder. Jungkook leaned against your back, face pressed into your hair while your tail curled around him.

The four still awake slowly made their way out of the car, Hobi quickly a picture of the sleeping pile, briefly stretching from the car ride. Namjoon shook Jimin’s shoulder while Jin attempted to wake Jungkook. The resulting grumbles are what brought you back to the moment. You felt warm fingers gently brushing the hair from your forehead. “Wake up kitten, we’re home.”

Yoongi. You knew without even seeing him. You pulled yourself away from the comforting scent of Taehyung’s neck, who was still in his own dream world. Yoongi smiled at you, reaching out to help you from the car. You took his hand, sliding off of Taehyung and out of the car. “Looks like you had a good nap.” He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, letting him lead you into the house. Your eyes took it everything they could manage in your still waking state. The size of the house was quite large, but given how many occupants it held, it made sense.

It was also very simple, compared to your master’s house at least. But it was perfect, it showed the humble nature of the people who lived here. “I ordered dinner on the way home. Jimin, Tae can you set the table?” Hobi called out as everyone took off their shoes at the door. You slipped off the simple black slip on sneakers (also stolen from someone’s doorstep) and followed the group into the living room. “On Saturdays we always order our favorite take out and have a movie night. I think its Jungkook’s turn to pick the movie tonight.” He informs you with the smile that never seems to leave him.

“We’re watching the second Avengers movie.” The pup said, tail wagging as he stood next to you. “Or we can watch something else, which marvel movie is your favorite y/n?”

“I’ve never seen one.” You answered, curious eyes still taking in every aspect of the interior.

“You’ve never seen a marvel movie?! Okay, new plan. We’re starting with the first Iron Man then.” He smiled at you, “He’s the best hero anyway.” He ended with a wink. You smiled back at him, unable to stop his excitement from sinking into you. The sound of the doorbell brought all eyes to the front door where Hobi was walking, taking out his wallet. “Foods here, come on y/n, lets go sit down.” He left his hand on the back of your neck, leading you beside him into the other room.

Everyone took a seat around the large dining table that had two long benches in place of regular chairs. Jimin pat the spot next to him which you easily took while Jungkook sat on your other side. Namjoon sat across from you, his dimples showing as he watched the three of you. Seeing how the younger ones had taken such a liking to you, it made him feel protective of you already, like you were already a part of his pack. Jimin took the cup sitting in front of you, pouring a dark red liquid into it.

“What is it?” you asked as he set it back down in front of you.

“Black currant tea. It’s made with berries.” He couldn’t help but smile at you. It was sad how little you knew about things they thought were so commonplace, but he was happy you were so curious about everything. A curious little kitten. He thought to himself.

Jungkook took it open himself to fill your plate with food like Yoongi and Tae had done at the park. Your eyes widened at the sight of fresh cooked meat in different sauces in front of you. “Yah Jungkook. You can’t just feed her meat. Give her some vegetables too.” Namjoon scolded the youngster, trying not to laugh. He picked up the container of steamed veggies, spooning some onto your plate in the one spot Jungkook hadn’t filled.

“But it’s the best part. y/n, these are the best lamb skewers in the whole city.” Jungkook picked up a stick, holding one end with each hand and bit off a large piece of the grilled meat. You copied him, holding it the same way and eating. Unknowingly you started copying every bite he took. Though Jungkook did notice, and so he begrudgingly started to eat his own vegetables. Namjoon watched it all fondly, happy that the maknae seemed so concerned with you that he would eat better just to set a good example.

“y/n what’s your favorite breakfast? We’ll make it in the morning.” Jin asked. He desperately wanted to make sure you ate all that you wanted while you were with them.

“I don’t know, he would have the maid only give me hybrid pellets before.”

“Hyung, we should make waffles. Everyone loves those.” Taehyung spoke up, trying to keep the groups mood from dipping lower the more they learned about where you came from.

“Or kimchi rice.” Jungkook said through a mouth full of food.

“Chew your food, you’re not an animal.” Yoongi scolded.

“Technically we’re all at least 30% animal.”

“And I’m 30% ready to kick your ass if you don’t fix your table manners.”

The table erupted in laughter around you at the two bickering. The mood lifted from just a moment ago. You smiled as you continued eating, happy taking in every bite that was offered to you. This felt like everything you’d ever dreamed a real home would feel like. Family spending time together, laughing and smiling with each other. It’s all you ever wanted from a home. But all you’ve ever known is a dark basement and cruelty.

“Alright everyone clear the table. Tae, it’s our turn for dishes.” Namjoon spoke as everyone stood from the table, disposing of the empty food containers and piling dishes in the sink. You watched Namjoon turn the tap on and grab a sponge, while Taehyung stood next to him with a towel.

Ears perking, you hopped over to join them by the sink. “I want to help.” You really wanted to help, not just because you felt guilty about how much they’d already given you, but because this seemed like a part of their family dynamic. They did everything together and helped each other. You wanted to be apart of it, to know what it was like while it lasted. The two smiled at each other before looking down at your giddy expression. No one had ever looked so happy to do chores.

“Alright, you dry the dishes and I’ll put them away when your done.” Tae handed you the towel and pet your hair back lovingly. The others watched the scene with content smiles. With every moment that went by it seemed more evident that you fit in perfectly. You were supposed to be here all along.

“I’m going to make a few calls. See what I can dig up on her.” Hoseok whispered to Jin and Yoongi once they had moved into the living room. He didn’t want to get the younger ones hopes up in case there was nothing they could do to help. Chances were your owner was looking for you and if he was rich enough to afford a black-market exotic hybrid, he probably had money for good lawyers. Their best chance was to have you declared an emergency rescue and taken under his shelters name. The older women who owned the shelter had a big heart and would do everything she could to help every hybrid that came thru their door. Once he told her about you, there was no way your owner would get you back without a fight. Not if you didn’t want to go back willingly.

Yoongi vocalized those thoughts exactly. “y/n’s not going to that prick. Not with the way he’s been treating her.”

“We don’t know any details for sure.” Jin tried to reason, though he felt the same. They had to do everything by the book.

“She thought she had to ask for permission to eat Jin. He’s never even given her a proper meal, no wonder she’s so small if she’s only had pellets for the last five years.” Angrily sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “And her clothes don’t even fit her. I lived on the streets long enough to know what stolen clothing looks like. She probably had no choice.”

“I know, Yoongi, I know. We all want to help her. But we have to do this right. There are new laws now that can help her if her owner really was the terrible. But we have to move carefully.” Jin pulled his friend into a strong hug. “For now, no one knows she’s here. Tomorrow we’ll ask if she wants to stay with us.”

“We should ask her tonight.” Yoongi grumbled. He didn’t have the patience the humans did to deal with this on his own. To him it was black and white. You hated your old home enough to run away, so why should you have to go back? Surely your owner would treat you even worse as punishment. But there were gray areas were the laws were concerned. Yes, hybrids had more rights now. But they were still considered property.

“Tomorrow. After she gets a good night’s rest. I’m sure she hasn’t had that in a while. We don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow, so let’s give her a good night here at least.” Jin didn’t want to admit how worried he was that things would go bad. Your owner could find out where you were and demand you back. Without the proper steps laid out, they’d have to let him take you.

He let Yoongi join the other two hybrids on the couch. They’d all changed into comfier clothes and were playing video games while they waited to start the movie. He walked back into the kitchen to see you all nearly done with cleaning. You were laughing at a story Tae was telling you about why Namjoon can’t be trusted to use the stove without supervision. The sound of your laughter lifted the worry from his heart, just a bit.

“y/n, would you like to take a bath before the movie?” Jin asked as you dried the last plate Namjoon handed you.

“A bath?” you couldn’t stop your tail from giving away your excitement. You’d never had a real bath before, just rushed showers before you had to dress up and be a good little trophy. Taehyung took the plate from your hands, leaning over to press a kiss to your hair.

“Go on, don’t forget to scrub behind your ears.” You giggled as he hit your bum with the towel as you walked past. “Jin-hyung, use the good bath stuff! The one that smells like honey!”

Jin pet your head as he led you through the living room and upstairs. “Jimin, can you get something for y/n to sleep in? I think you’re closest to her size.”

“Coming hyung!” he called as he ran to catch up to you. “I’ll get you something super soft. Have to be comfy to watch movies properly.” You smiled in thanks as he walked further down the hallway while you followed Jin into another room. The bathroom was huge, bigger than the little corner of the basement that was your room. Even the bathtub was bigger than you had ever seen. You could easily sit in it completely and only your head would stick you. Jin pulled a fluffy white towel out of one cabinet and grabbed a few different products out of another.

You watched as he leaned over the faucet, turning it on and letting the water fill the tub. After pouring in a sweet-smelling liquid you heard Jimin enter behind you. “Hyung, you should use a bath bomb. One of the colorful ones.”

“A bomb?” They both tried not to laugh at your shocked face.

“Not really a bomb. It’s a something that dissolves in the water. It makes the bath a different color and smells really good. Some even have glitter in them.” Jimin led you to a basket full of different colored shapes. “Kookie and Tae love these, they collect most of them. They don’t mind sharing though. Pick whichever one you like.” Your eyes were immediately drawn to a bright pick star shaped one, picking it up Jimin smiled. “Good choice. That one smells like strawberry cake.”

Taking you back over to the bath, he took your hand in his and helped you drop it into the water. They watched your eyes widen at the sight of the bath instantly turning pink, the color swirling around as it dissolved. “All set then. Clothes are on the counter. Take your time, we’ll be downstairs when your done.” Jin started to lead the calico out of the bathroom to leave you to yourself for a bit.

“Jin.” Immediately he turned back to you, seeing your ears turned low. “I’ve never…washed my hair by myself before…the maid always helped me.” You felt like a bother, but he just smiled softly at you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait outside, just call for me when you need my help.” The request wasn’t that strange to him. All of the hybrids had needed help with something or other at the beginning. More then anything it warmed his heart to know you weren’t afraid to ask it of him. Maybe that meant you felt safe with him, knew he wasn’t anything like your master.

After ridding yourself of your stolen clothes, you let your body submerge in the water, the warmth seeping into your bones, easing the tension every muscle for the first time. After relishing in the feeling for a few minutes, you set to cleaning yourself up. Scrubbing away at the weeks of hidden grime on your skin. You’d made sure to stay as clean as you could so as not to look to much like a runaway. Washing yourself at the sink of empty public restrooms. But finally ridding yourself of all of it, you could die happy in this moment.

Soon enough your entire body was clean, tail shampooed twice and conditioned, just leaving your hair and ears. Looking to the door, you nearly hesitated to call him back in. After folding your knees up to your chest, you finally did, “Jin?” thinking you weren’t loud enough, you almost called out again when the door opened, he peeked his head inside.

“Ready to wash your hair?” you nodded in answer. He smiled, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. After retrieving a cup from the cabinet, he sat on the edge of the tub. “Just tilt your head back and close your eyes. Don’t worry, I’m a pro at washing hybrid ears. Once Jimin hurt his hand, and he stretched the fake injury out for a whole month just so I would wash his hair for him.” You giggled as he poured water over your hair.

Silence filled the room as he lathered the shampoo through your locks. Like you’d done to your tail, he did this twice before adding conditioner. “You already look a lot better, getting some color back to your cheeks.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in one day before.” You mumbled as you relaxed at his gentle touch. Jin looked at your sadly, wanting so much to know everything that had happened to you, only because he wanted so badly to help you. He kept himself from asking, afraid it would scare you away after you’d started opening up. He was sure you would tell them when you felt confident, when they completely earned your trust.

“All clean little one,” he said but kept running his fingers through your now silky hair. “Dry off and come down when your ready. Jungkook always gets really excited to watch Iron Man movies.” Jin leaned to press a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself from the bathtub, smiling at you as he moved out of the room. You returned his smile as he shut the door, stretching your body out once more in the water before finally standing and wrapping the towel around yourself.

After dressing in the clothes Jimin had left you, black track bottoms and a dark green flannel shirt, you bundled up your folded dirty clothes in your arms and left the bathroom. “All done y/n?” Yoongi asked as he met you in the hallway. “I’ll put those in the wash, go on downstairs.” He took the clothes from you, before continuing down the hall, “I’ll be right behind you, don’t let them start the movie without me.” You watched him disappear into another room further down before making your way downstairs they way you remembered.

Upon entering the living room you found almost everyone gathered on the couch or on blankets on the floor. Unsure where to sit you stood nervously at the edge. Only a few seconds later Yoongi was beside you, hairbrush in hand. “Come sit down, I’ll brush your hair out for you.” He took your hand, leading you into the living room and sitting on the couch, ushering you to the floor in front of him. You leaned back against his legs before he starts running the brush through your locks, starting at the ends to smooth out any tangles. You relaxed more as the bristles moved over your scalp.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying themselves.” The voice suddenly next to you chuckled. You felt another warmth to your other side and looked to see Jimin and Taehyung on your sides. Everyone was in their spots, ready for the movie to start that Jungkook was currently putting on. Namjoon sat next to Yoongi, Jin laid on the other couch, leaned back against the arm with Hobi’s back against his chest. Everyone looked so relaxed sitting together, it made you want the same thing.

“Ready to watch the greatest superhero of all time?” Jungkook asked, looking back at you, the smile falling from him when he saw the spaces next to you already taken. “No fair, there’s no room around y/n.” he whined. You looked back at how Jin and Hobi where laying and crossed your legs, leaning back against the couch. His smile returned, beaming when you pat your lap shyly. Before someone else could take the offer, he rushed over, sitting down and leaning back against you, head resting of your chest. “I have the best seat in the house now.” He boasted, bringing your hands to his chest and holding them there. The elders laughed at the youngest males giddy state, hearts warming at the sight of you so readily offering to cuddle with the needy pup.

“Everyone ready to start the movie?” a sound of agreement went through the room, Tae and Jimin settling against you. Minutes into the movie you were sucked into it, barely noticing Yoongi’s fingers moving again through your hair, or Jungkook’s thumbs caressing circles against your pulse points as he explained every scene. Usually the others would have shut him up, but you seemed excited to hear everything, quickly asking him to clarify anything you didn’t understand. It seemed you and Jungkook were the only ones watching the screen, as everyone was watching you two interact. Halfway through Taehyung went into the kitchen, coming back minutes later with bowls of popcorn, handing them out. Sitting down with his own he offered it to you, but you couldn’t remove your hands from Jungkook’s grasp. Smiling to himself, trying to not to laugh at how conflicted you looked, he fed you himself.

As the credits were finally rolling Jin looked over to see you both asleep, your low purring lulling Jungkook into a coma while your head rested on his. “We should move them to bed, they’ll wake sore if they stay like that.” Hobi said, raising from the couch while the others started to clean up. Leaning down in front of Jungkook, he lightly tapped his nose. “Kookie, time to head to bed.”

“Comfy here hyung…” he mumbled back.

“I know, but you’ll hurt y/n’s legs if you sleep here all night. Come on, you can play more in the morning.” He took the pups hands, prying them from your own and pulled him to sit up, waking you in the process. Namjoon pulled him to his feet, leading him to the staircase. Rubbing your eyes while you yawned, Hobi pet your twitching ears.

“Did I miss the ending?”

“We can watch it again tomorrow, it’s been a long day, lets get some sleep.” You let him lift you from the ground, carrying you through the room and up the stairs. Your ears twitching tickled his chin, making him smile. Stepping into a small bedroom, he gently set you down in the bed, letting you get comfortable before pulling the covers over your curled up state. “Tae and Jimin are right across the hall and I’m next door if you need anything, okay?” he giggled and your lazy nod. “Good night y/n.” he left a kiss at your temple before standing to leave, hearing you just before he shut the door.

“G’night Hobi.”

He smiled as he wondered back into the living room where Jin and Namjoon were waiting. “Did you find anything out about her yet?” the wolf asked.

“A bit, I have a friend doing some digging, I should know more tomorrow when I go to the shelter.”

“So what do you we know.”

“Some good news,” he answered hesitantly. “There’s no feline hybrid in the system matching her breed and name.”

“What does that mean?” Jin asked.

“It means it’s likely her owner never had a hybrid license, which isn’t that surprising since her breed is so rare. If he didn’t have the paperwork to have her it might not be hard to keep him from taking her back.”

“But.” Jin knew there was always a catch with rich hybrid owners.

“But, after five years in one place he could try to claim legal ownership.”

“She said she was with him for five years.”

“I know,” he sighed, hand running through his hair. “It’ll be a close call. I already have the emergency rescue forms being processed. I’ll call our usual lawyer in the morning and see what she can do. Maybe if we act fast enough we can get into the system before her owner catches word of it.”

“So y/n can stay here?” they all looked back to Taehyung and Jimin at the doorway, looking to their elders hopefully.

“I can’t promise anything, but we’ll try everything we can.” They knew it wouldn’t be an easy task to undertake. “Now come on everyone, its late. Tomorrow might get a bit crazy, so lets get some sleep.” He ushered them all back up the stairs and into their rooms. Taking one last glace at your door before continuing down the hall.

Tomorrow they’d ask if you wanted to stay with them. And hope that your owner didn’t come looking for you.

tag list: @sessi03 @i-jinlaugh-at-u-peasants @sami4life

#bts poly au #poly bts #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts hybrid #taehyung #jungkook #yoongi #jimin #hoseok #seokjin #namjoon #suga #jhope #bts hybrid au #bts x reader

944 notes · View notes

im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 3 years

Note

5 for Nuts and Dolts, because the hug in the trailer is still on continuous loop in my head and the only thing better than an angsty hug is an angsty hug AND KISS 8 for Data Farm, because I'm weak for the idea of Oscar being unexpectedly prince-like and making Penny feel like a princess (or the other way around) I can't remember the number, but the interrupted kiss for rosegarden No pressure to do all of these, I just couldn't decide on one ship because I love all of them

(as a brief refresher: Data Farms Fic Link, Rosegarden Fic Link)

...and here’s to finally being able to answer this ask and revealing the ridiculous (sort of) secret plan I’ve carried out over a month (or two maybe idk) and what’s now a six-chapter fic!

(no, I’m not joking, this (Rose Puppetry) was literally A Thing bc I’m Like That)

So, to explain, way back when I was doing requests for this kissing meme, it was around the same time that you introduced me to the Mechanisms music, and then the Magnus Archives after that.

Subsequently, I thought it would be really cool to make one of these three requests Steampunk-themed. I decided on the Nuts and Dolts one bc, when I first listened to Once Upon A Time (In Space), I associated Ruby and Penny heavily with Rose and Cinders (I think it was bc the album was brought up in reference to Souls or something like that? Also Rose Puppetry was my alternative solution to just derailing Souls completely into Being A Steampunk Fic).

Anyways, I started out with the intent to do a short oneshot where Penny breaks into a facility to save Ruby, which would be reminiscent of the final attack on Old King Cole that led to Cinders being reunited with Rose.

Except then I got carried away by world-building (bc it was so freaking fun) and Rose Puppetry became an entire multi-chapter fic all of its own.

For the record, I think I originally @ you when I posted the first chapter bc I was going to say that the fic was a response to this prompt and then quite literally forgot to actually say that anywhere. I then realized that, if I kept quiet about it, I could turn it into a surprise, which seemed like a fun thing to do, so I went for it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of Rose Puppetry!

5. Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips.

...

Rose Puppetry Ch6: The Tale of Little Briar and the Huntress in the Cottage

Summary:

A century ago or so, Atlas set out to conquer the world. Penny was built to be a spy, an infiltrator meant to find weaknesses in Vale’s defenses before the invasion.

She did. Then she fell in love. And rebelled against the kingdom that had created her.

Ch1. Ch2. Ch3. Ch4. Ch5.

Every child in Patch knows of the Huntress who lives in the cottage on the outskirts of town. Their great protector, who keeps the dangers of the woods at bay so they can go about their lives safely. No one knows, not really, where she came from. The youngest kids among them generally want to ask, but their parents usually shush them before they can try. It’s considered improper, prying into what should be left well enough alone.

Briar knows more about the Huntress than any of her peers, but you’d never catch her boasting about it in the school yard. No sir. She can keep a secret extremely well, she can. Well that, and she doesn’t want the Huntress to be upset with her and ask her father to not allow her to make the weekly deliveries anymore. Briar loves visiting the Huntress’s cottage, with its duck pond and its thick bramble of roses. But, most importantly, she loves being let inside and allowed to watch the Huntress work for just a little while.

For, in addition to being their protector against the scary monsters that lurk in the woods, the Huntress is Patch’s one and only mechanic. There used to be more, of course, but that was back before Briar was born and they all got called off to fight in the Great War against Atlas.

Briar once asked if the Huntress fought in the Great War, too. She remembers how the Huntress fell silent, the gloomy expression that had seamlessly eclipsed the Huntress’s entire being, and quietly swore never to ask again. It’s not important for her to know, Briar decided. Not like learning how gears, cogs, and screws all fit into machinery and make things like the big clock in the tower in the center of town work.

It’s a sunny day. A few wisps of clouds linger in the sky, but not many. Briar skips home from school, humming a happy tune of her own creation as she goes. She briefly pauses to scratch the noses of the cows who’ve wandered to the fence of their pasture bordering the road. The cows moo at her and sniff Briar’s fingertips for treats.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything for you today.” Briar giggles as their chin whiskers tickle her. “If I have time after I visit Ms. Rose, I’ll try and bring you all back something, but I make no promises.”

She continues on her way, only stopping in the Mech Field to pick a collection of bright, cheerful wildflowers. Briar pauses to consider the ruins of the old war machines, but Ms. Rose once warned her very sternly not to get too close to the fallen mechs without her supervision, so Briar doesn’t. Instead, she takes a spare hair ribbon out of her school bag, ties it snugly around the stems of her wildflowers to keep them properly bunched together, and heads home.

Her mother has the weekly grocery basket for Ms. Rose waiting when Briar arrives. She helps Briar securely fasten it to the deliveries bicycle and situate the flower bouquet on top so the bumpy ride won’t jostle them too much.

“Keep an eye on the time,” Briar’s mother gives her the usual warning. “And, if it starts growing dark, have Ms. Rose walk you home.”

Briar rolls her eyes. She’s big enough to come home all on her own, even after sunset, she thinks. Still, she promises, “I will!” before taking off on the bicycle.

Smoke lazily drifts into the sky from Ms. Rose’s cottage’s chimney as Briar makes her approach. The huntress’s dog, a great, big creature with a lumbering gait and a lolling tongue, appropriately named ‘Wolf’, runs to greet Briar as she approaches. She slows her bicycle to a stop and dismounts.

“Hey, Wolfie.” Briar scratches behind the dog’s ears, and gets licked enthusiastically for it. She laughs. Wolf dances excited circles around Briar as she walks over and leans her bicycle against the cottage. “Stop that!” Briar commands Wolf, only half serious. “I have to get the groceries inside!” She nudges the door open and walks into the cottage.

“Ms. Rose? Are you here?” Briar calls out.

“In the workshop, Briar!” Ms. Rose yells back from somewhere deep inside. Briar grins. With some care, she shoves the groceries in the refrigerator. Ms. Rose will organize them however she pleases later, after a few more hours of work, at least.

Briar goes to hurry through the kitchen, but remembers herself, and pauses at the sink to fill a pitcher with water for her wildflower bouquet. She carefully lowers the flowers in and unties her hair ribbon from around their stems. Then, after tidying the bouquet a little, Briar walks further into the cottage. She doesn’t go immediately to the workshop, but to a room Ms. Rose only recently granted her permission to enter.

Briar pauses and takes a breath in the doorway of the bedroom. It’s always a bit weird to do this. She’s never actually met Ms. Penny. Not back before, when she was awake. Ms. Penny doesn’t know who she is. Never had the chance to, really.

Regardless, flowers always make Briar feel better when she isn’t feeling well. With Wolf padding loyally at her side, Briar approaches the bed where Ms. Penny serenely sleeps and situates the bouquet on the table beside it.

“Good day, Ms. Penny,” Briar speaks politely, for she’s never spoken to a mechanical person, or one who’s never woken up, before Penny. Briar still feels kind of odd about that, but, since she first stumbled across Penny’s room, she’s been determined to try and make her feel better (if that’s at all possible).

“Spring’s here. The first of Mr. Oobleck’s lambs were born the other day.” Briar starts her usual, short, babbling update about life in Patch. “They’re extremely cute. I’ll draw you a picture, so, when you wake up, you won’t have missed seeing them.”

“She’d like that, I think.”

Briar jumps, and spins around. Ms. Rose stands in the doorway, leaning against its frame. She smiles softly at Briar, and joins her by Penny’s bedside. “Penny never…I think she always lived in cities before we met.” Ms. Rose takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure she’s ever gotten the chance to see a newborn lamb.”

“Then this will be her first time,” Briar says confidently.

“Yes.” Ms. Rose smiles sadly down at Briar. “Run along to the workshop now. I left today’s assignment out on the table for you. Try to see if you can get started on your own. I’ll be along in a moment.”

Briar does as she’s told, but not before stopping just outside the bedroom and sneakily poking her head back in to watch Ms. Rose gently smooth Penny’s long, soft copper curls and place a kiss on her forehead.

“Don’t wait too much longer to wake up, my love, alright?” Ms. Rose whispers.

Briar slips away, feeling a little guilty about spying on such a private moment. She doesn’t know why Ms. Penny sleeps, what caused her to fall into her lasting slumber in the first place, but Briar does know that Ms. Rose came to Patch to have a quiet, safe place to repair her.

The assignment Ms. Rose set out for Briar that day is a small music box. One that had, in all likeliness, played a lovely melody at some point, but has long since worn out. Repairing it shouldn’t be the hardest of tasks. Not now that Briar is a handful of months out of transitioning from ‘kid who gets to watch the Huntress work’ to ‘unofficial mechanic’s apprentice’.

Ever so carefully, Briar removes a tiny, rusty gear from the music box with her tweezers and sets it aside. She looks to Ms. Rose, who smiles reassuringly back at her. Briar finds the replacement gear, plucks it up with the tweezers, and goes to insert it right where it needs to—

“Hello?! Huntress are you here?” A voice shouts into the cottage. Wolf scrambles up from lying under where Briar’s feet dangle off her stool and barks loudly. Briar jumps. Her tweezers fall out of her hand. The replacement gear goes flying.

“Just a moment!” Ms. Rose calls back. She helps Briar retrieve the gear from where it’s fallen to the floor. “Think you can work on your own for a bit?” Ms. Rose asks. When Briar nods, the huntress wipes grease and oil smudges off her fingertips onto her leather apron and goes to see who has come asking after her aid.

Briar half listens to the ensuing conversation about a broken down car on the road as it drifts through the cottage to her. Ms. Rose briefly returns to the workshop for her portable tool kit, and then leaves to go repair the automobile in question. She promises she’ll check Briar’s handiwork upon her return. Wolf ambles back over to Briar. The dog circles a couple times to settle, and then returns to napping.

For the next couple of hours while Briar works, things are quiet and peaceful. She finishes repairing the music box. With bated breath, Briar winds it up and sets it down on the worktable. A soft tune fills the air. Briar can’t help but smile.

Too excited to wait until Ms. Rose gets back to show off her success, Briar carefully scoops the music box up in her hands and carries it to Penny’s room. She puts it down by the wildflowers she brought earlier, and lets it play its song a second time.

So caught up on listening to the music box’s melody is Briar, she doesn’t catch when it’s joined by the sounds of other mechanisms whirling and clicking. Ones that have long remained at rest, but, at the sound of a comforting song, rouse again.

Movement catches Briar’s attention. Before she realizes what’s happened, a pair of bright, dazzling green eyes meet her own. They almost seem to glow, as if they’re lightbulbs that have spent a long, long time charging up and want to celebrate the chance to finally illuminate.

“H-hello?” The voice is hoarse, creaky with disuse. It’s nothing like Briar imagined it would be. “Briar?”

Briar blinks rapidly. “You know me?” slips from her lips before she can stop the question.

“Of course.” Tentatively, Penny moves to push herself up in a sitting position. One of her hands slips before she can put weight down on it. Briar rushes forward to help support her. “Thank you.” Penny smiles gratefully at Briar. “To answer your question, I heard you. The days you came and talked to me and brought me flowers.” She pauses. “I’d very much like to see Mr. Oobleck’s lambs.”

“Oh.” Briar takes a minute to process this. “I didn’t think…” she’s not sure what to say. She’s imagined this moment hundreds of times, but, now that it’s happening, Briar’s mind is frustratingly blank.

“It’s alright.” Penny gives her a small, soft smile. “It’s not everyday someone you’ve only known as a ‘sleeping lady’ wakes up.”

“I-err-yeah…” Briar pauses. “If you don’t mind me asking, how could you hear me all those times? Since you were asleep?”

Penny inhales deeply and exhales, the clockwork of her body moving with the motion. “It’s a bit complicated. A short explanation would be that, even without enough power to function normally, I could still record audio.” Penny shoots a knowing smirk in Briar’s direction. “I would love to give you the fully detailed explanation. Later. If you don’t mind, there’s someone who’s long overdue for a hug, I think.”

Briar’s eyes widen. “Oh! Ms. Rose! Of course!” She scrambles up to fetch Penny a walking stick to lean upon as she gets up. “She went out to repair someone’s car. I think it’s just down the road!” Briar hovers, ready to support Penny if she needs help with walking. When Penny makes it to the doorway on her own, Briar relaxes a little.

Together, with Wolf keeping pace with them (and Briar would swear the dog is keeping as much a careful eye on Penny as she herself is), they make their way outside.

Penny pauses, and looks up at the blue, blue sky. She blinks. If she were capable of crying, she probably would have. “I never dreamed I’d see it again.” Penny whispers. She turns to look ahead, down the road she and Briar intend to walk, and sees someone coming toward them on it. Penny gasps.

There is one sight that Penny dreamed of, longed for, during her oh so very long slumber. One sight, her vague, ethereal thoughts could never quite capture, but tried to constantly. The person she sees on the road doesn’t quite fit the picture Penny remembers. The person is no longer a youthful maiden, but a full grown woman. Her black-red hair is longer, kept in an untidy braid over one shoulder. She’s wearing the garb of a mechanic, and not combat dress. Branching scars, leftover from a (Grimm) time Penny would very much like to leave in the past, dance across her skin.

“Ruby.”

Penny breathes the name out at the same time Ruby sees her, stops, and stares.

A moment passes where no one moves, where the world is held frozen in shock. Anxiety ripples over Ruby’s face. Worry that needs no verbal words to describe it. That Penny won’t love this older version of her. That this person she had to grow into while she patiently waited for Penny to wake up isn’t someone Penny will be able to bring herself to love.

Penny takes a step forward, and then another. Her walking stick is cast aside as she recalls how to push her legs into motion as fast as she can. She runs, reaching Ruby in the blink of an eye. Eager to vanquish all the anxieties she sees in her beloved, Penny takes Ruby up in her arms and spins her around and around. She laughs, causing Ruby to laugh with relief too.

They’re together. Nothing, no war or conflict or spiders who want to control them, can get in the way of that any longer. They may have once been puppets in a grand scheme, but they’re free now. Free to do whatever they wish, as long as they wish.

Penny stops spinning Ruby around. She holds her close, drinking in the sight of Ruby’s sparkling, silver eyes. Without thinking about it, they press their foreheads together and simply gaze at each other.

Later, they’ll let Briar commit a condensed version of their story down on paper. A fairytale, it will be. One only a handful will actually believe there’s truth to, but that’s just as well to them. Right now, this moment? This moment is just for them.

Ruby wraps her arms around Penny. Penny leans in. Their lips find each other. Tentative, unsure, aware they have a lot to adjust to again with each other (but eager to get started). The kiss is soft and sweet. A promise of many, many more to come.

They don’t live happily ever after. For Penny and Ruby’s story doesn’t end here. It goes on, with many days full of love, and equally as many filled with struggle as they learn each other’s embrace again. There are moments when the scars of the past threaten to consume them, and moments filled with nothing but laughter and joy.

Overall, though?

Penny and Ruby live together for a very, very long time, and that time together is largely marked by their shared happiness.

#rwby #nuts and dolts #ruby rose #penny polendina #steampunk au #rose puppetry #whirls writing #not the first time i've gone overboard on a request #but the first time i've waited until literally the last chapter of the fic #to reveal that that was the plan all along

9 notes · View notes

luci-cunt · 4 years

Note

Tell me about Magneto🤭

MAY YOU CAN’T SEE IT BUT IM KISSING YOU SO PASSIONATELY RIGHT NOW

Ok so listeeennnn tooooo meeeee, okokokok, so a while ago I went on this James McAvoy bender--don’t ask--and I saw he was in the X-Men movies, whic hi haven’t watched since the Wolverine movies/ Last Stand when I was like, actually a baby. So anyways I flipped them on thinking “yeah what could go wrong?” except I watched them in the wrong order

Anyways here’s an essay on why neither Erik or Prof X was right and the actual answer would be to compromise and these movies how how because they’re both too stubborn and couldn’t it destroyed their friendship and fucked everything up.

Also the fact that X-Men: First Class is the best Villain origin story to ever cross the screen.

Ok so spoilers ahead for X-Men: Days of Future Past and X-Men: First Class

Now, it should be noted that I’m no an X-Men expert I just love these two movies.

So for some context: First Class and Days of Future Past are both kind of prequels, except DoFP is a prequel-sequel?? becuase of time travel?? I’ll explain don’t worry. The point is, they take place in the past where all the characters are younger. James McAvoy plays Professor X (who I’ll just be calling X for this whole thing), Michael Fassbender plays Magneto (aka Erik), oh and Jennifer Lawrence plays Mystic--who will be appearing in this essay XDD.

Alright so first of all have a plot summary: DoFP is about Wolverine getting sent back in time so he can convince a younger Prof X to stop Raven (aka Mystic) from getting caught by this guy Trask who then uses her DNA to create super weapons that irradiate all mutants. The current future Wolverine is in, he, prof X, Magneto, and a few other mutants are trying their best to survive but it’s a losing battle and their only hope is to literally change the past.

This one takes place after the events of First Class, which I will now explain.

So in First Class a younger Prof X and Magneto team up to find and recruit bb mutants to X’s school because the government wants to use Mutants to help fight the Russians (oh head this takes placee in the 1960′s right before the Cuban Missile Crisis). This is essentially a Magneto origin story and also--in my opinion--the best villain origin story to ever cross the screen.

OK so now some details on our main characters:

Magneto/ Erik Lehnsherr: a literal holocaust survivor who’s only goal in the begining of the story is hunting/ killing nazi’s, specifically one nazi who tortured him specifically and I will get into him later don’t worry.

Professor X: super smart rich white boy with a heart of gold but also enough naivete to make a lamb look like a Stephen King character.

Already you can see very stark differences between the two of them. Erik is set up as being a staunch pessimist while X is a vivid optimist, and that makes sense. X’s grown up sheltered and never wanting for anythign while Erik suffered a trainwreck of the greatest traumas in human existence hitting him over and over and over again from like age fucking 9.

Ok also tehre’s J-Law’s character Raven, who is a mutant that can change her skin to look like anythign she wants it to but her actual form is blue/ scaly/ “not pretty” (bullshit but ok). She met X when she broke into his house one night to steal some food and then they became friends, their relationship will become important later but for now that’s all u need to know.

ok so anyways, in the begining of First Class Erik is hunting + killing Nazi’s, specifically looking for this one called Schmidt because when Erik was little he and his family were carted away to a concentration camp where Schmidt witness Erik use his metal bending powers and decided to “train” him. aka physically/ mentally abuse him for years. The whole thing starts with Schmidt trying to get Erik to lift a metal coin with his mind, when he can’t (because he’s a child who didn’t even know he had his powers until literally hours ago) Schmidt puts his mother’s life on the line and when he still can’t Schmidt kills her. This sends Erik it’s a rage and he crushes some nazi heads but then Schmidt is still standing and mentions how “oh gotcha, so it’s rage and pain that’s the key to your powers huh?” anyways this tidbit and the coin will become important later trust me--

Meanwhile Prof X is graduating from Oxford/ generally being an idiot pretty boy. He’s a telepath who knows about his powers and has used them from an early age. He also wrote some big paper on mutants, which gets the attention of an FBI agent who witnesses the villains being mutants and wants his advice

However, the villains just so happen to be Schmidt, who’s going by “Shaw” now, so when X and the agents catch up to him Erik is already there and on a mission to murder his ass. Some bs happens, Erik tries to pull a submarine out of the water but can’t (T-T this will be important) and X jumps into the water to stop him because the mental stress is literally killing him.

That’s how they meet.

It’s important to note: up until this point, Erik didn’t know there were other mutants, so meeting X, who’s friends with Raven, is kind of a big deal for him. He and X become very fast friends and also have a very homoerotic montage where they become dads for a bunch of mutant teenagers, because they realize they can use X to track all these baby mutants, collect them, and train them so they don’t grow up fearing their powers.

youtube

Anyways, the other thing about this is that now that Erik has this newfound group of people that are just like him, he’s opening up, and X is helping him realize he’s actually so much more powerful when he taps into happy memories rather than fueling himself on pain and rage. This scene always makes me sob oh my god--

youtube

Also, fellas--is it gay to “access the brightest cortex” of your homies memories and remind him that hate and pain are not good motivators before reminding him that he has good memories he can draw on and showing him that his life has not been entirely painful?

YEs, the answer is yes are u shitting me??

ok so anyways--something to note about this is that X and Erik are both very protective of all their new kids, but Erik is especially so. I’m going to be getting into this more but just tab thsi thought for later :)

Now, the plot’s kicking up a bit, because it’s at this point that Erik and X capture one of Shaw’s (aka the nazi’s) main lackies and they question her until she gives them the info that Shaw’s planning on using the Cuban Missile Crisis tensions to start a nuclear war to wipe out all humans so that only mutants survive in the new world.

Obviously they want to stop him, but also, you can kind of tell that Erik is not totally against this plan, which only gets to be more later but that’s for later.

Right now I wanna take a quick break to talk about Raven--aka Mystic, aka J-Law. She and X were childhood friends and she kind of clung to him because she doesn’t have family/ anyone she can really be herself around besides him.

X insistently says throughout the movie he sees her as a sister, but it’s kinda obvious she’d be down to fuck. She has this big plotline where she keeps trying to get X to understand why it’s so frustrating for her to have to be using energy to look “human.” Because her natural form is the one with the blue skin. X doesn’t understand this because his power is easy to hide, it’s simple for him to just fake-human and have no one be any wiser, Raven, however, doesn’t have that luxury and when she tries to explain this to X it just flies over his head, insisting she hide her natural self to better fit in if that’s what she really wants.

Queue Erik, who comes in as a king of self love. He’s pretty blunt about it, but his point is basically “you’re wasting energy by constantly pretending you’re something you’re not--stop” and she responds essentially with “yeah but then no one will like me” to which he responds “then make them.”

Raven’s relationship with both the boys is used through both First Class and DoFP to really highlight their faults. X believes humans and mutants can coexist but he thinks we go about doign that by completely ignoring the pages of history of abuse mutants have suffered--and it’s mostly because he hasn’t experienced it.

Erik on the other hand will do everything and anything he possibly can to protect his new family/ people, and in his head that means exterminating any and all threats. By the end of the movie--humans become one of those threats.

The point of this whole ramble is that: they both represent utter opposites, BUT, X’s blind optimism and Erik’s blind pessimism are equally bad.

Ok so back to plot for a second to prove this.

Shaw is revealed to be a mutant himself and he also has a helmet that can block telepathy. (yes it’s the magneto helmetjasjd;fkjaskl;dfjasldkj jsut wait).

His plan’s complicated but basically: he’s going to poke America and Russia until they pop and incite a nuclear war. And it works. The whole pre-climax of the film sees X, Erik, Raven, and the other mutants all working double time to stop Shaw’s plan (AND IT INVOLVES ERIK SUCCESSFULLY PULING A SUBMARINE OUT OF THE WATER!!! BECAUSE NOW HE’S USING HAPPINESS INSTEAD OF ANGER/ PAIN!!!).

Anywho, they’re doing all this, but then some bullshit happens, the plane they’re on crashes oh and -- yeah there’s this part where Erik uses himself as a seatbelt for X it’s fantastic but anyways--

This is finally the climax of the film.

Also possibly the greatest scene in film history in my humble opinion.

Because listen--in order to stop Shaw they need the helmet off of him so that X can telepathically freeze his ass and they can arrest him or whatever. So they split up--Erik rushes into the wreckage to find Shaw and X stays behind ready to freeze the guy as soon as the helmet comes off but--

Well, vengence is just too tempting.

So when Erik gets Shaws helmet off, X freezes the guy, and he’s ecstatic, at least until he realizes Erik plans on killing Shaw.

He’s pleading with Erik because this is vengence and he can’t chose that but Erik just puts on the helmet and--taunts Shaw, pulling out the coin Shaw taunted him with all those years ago and in a mimickry of the game Shaw forced him to play as a child and killed his mother over--he slowly floats the coin at Shaws head, telling him “I’m going to count to ten, and all you have to do is move.”

But he can’t--because X is holding him--and that’s the point, Erik wants him as helpless as he was, and X can’t let his hold on Shaw go because that would mean putting Erik in danger but he’s also in Shaws head so he feels the coin go through his head as though Erik was doing it to him and the fucking cinematography in this scene is so fuaksdjf;laksjd;fjasd;lkfjadsl;asdjf;ljL:DKJFL:SDKJFL:D KFUCKKKKK

youtube

This scene is cinematic perfection don’t fucking lOOK at me unless you agree.

T-T and then, it only gets worse, because now Erik’s finally finished his original purpose--killing the man who killed his mother and ruined his life--and now he’s got a new one, aka protecting his new family aka the mutants.

AND HE’S ONLY PROVEN RIGHT THAT HUMANS ARE A THREAT BECAUSE THEY TURN AND TRY TO KILL ALL THE MUTANTS IN THE PLANE CRASH AND JSUT--

And so he stops all the missiles flying their way, and turns them around on the humans and X has to stop him but he’s not listening and the rawest fucking line in the whole movie comes when X says

“There’s hundreds of men on those ships--innocent men. They’re just following orders!”

And Erik simply replies, “I’ve been at the mercy of men ‘just following orders’--never again.”

And then he goes to blow up the shipsthen one of the other characters goes to shoot Erik and he deflects the bullet wtihout thinking right. into. X’s. back.

Paralysing him.

And just akjd;fjasdflkjasd;lfkj this scene speaks for itself

youtube

Listen just--akjdsf;ljasdlk jguys this movie has no right being this good.

And then the movie closes off with X and Erik literally begging one another to just see it their way--because they both want so badly to be on the same side but they’re too stubborn and they refuse to see compromise and just ajkdf;lja;sdkfja;sdljkfsadlkf

Ok I realize now that I barely talked about DoFP but this is already so long. The major things I was going to bring up was teh absolutely fantastic bitter exes energy that McAvoy and Fassbender bring to that movie it’s excellent but also the fact that X is literally the only person Erik goes out of his way not to kill despite standing directly in the way of Erik’s goal.

Like, you remember my whole deal with Raven??? yeah that’s x10 in DoFP (which takes place quickly after this movie) yeah so her and Erik are close, and shown to be close, but the second he thinks she endangers his fam he literally 180′s so quick and tries to straight up murder her.

BUT HE FUCKING BENDS THE BULLET AROUND X’s HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! X!!!!!!!!!! WHO’S LITERALLY 100% AGAINST HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST

Ok, that’s all. By the way I don’t want to like, up your expecations too much because I actually kind of hate X-Men: First Class almost as much as I love it?? it’s very..... of it’s era, and cheesy, and dumb--but fucking magneto you guys holy SHIT

10 notes · View notes

kittae · 5 years

Text

Cardboard Castle | M

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, domestic, cat hybrid!AU

Words: 6.7k

Warnings : Rated M, graphic descriptions of sexual content, strong language, cat/human hybrid, switch!Jungkook, oral sex (male & female receiving), temperature play, overstimulation, edging, teasing, food play, unprotected sex

A/N: part of the Cat Hybrid!BTS Miniseries

Others:

Yoongi

Taehyung

Jimin

“Damn it Jungkook, will you put it in already?!”

You watch your boyfriend fiddle around, a serious look on his face as his brows furrow in concentration. His fluffy ears fold back flat on his head while he exhales heavily after holding his breath for a long time.

“I’m trying! It’s too big!” He growls in defense to your snappy question.

“Then try harder! I swear to God if you get the wrong hole again–”

“Hold on a second woman, do you know how hard it is to try and fit this into something that small?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you murmur quietly under your breath, “watch me end up having to do it by myself again.”

His hypersensitive ears, seeing how they perk right up as he snaps his head to the side to eye you spitefully, catch those words anyway. His lids squeeze to slits while his hand, still holding the thing, freeze mid-air as a low hiss slips from between his teeth.

“Are you telling me i suck at screwing? Is that what you’re saying, ___?”

“I’m just saying that this is not how i pictured it. You’re doing something wrong.”

“Can you– like, not?! I told you I don’t need those stupid instructions. I'm really good at this, just wait...” He grumbles irritably, still trying to jam the thing in by force.

You watch him mess around in silence for a little longer before you just can’t take it anymore.

“Do you need help holding it up?” You sigh in exasperation of his stubborn ass not getting anywhere this way.

Jungkook quickly dismisses your half-hearted offer to help with another hostile hiss, finally making you gasp in indignation.

“Stop hissing at me! It’s our first time doing this, don’t be a jerk!”

“Me?” your boyfriend scoffs wide-eyed, “I’m being a jerk?! You’ve been nothing but criticizing the whole time while i’m doing all the work!”

“You wouldn’t even let me touch it!”

“Because you don’t know how to handle it!”

That’s it. The final straw. If he doesn’t need you, he can just do it by himself.

“Well have fun handling it by yourself, then! I’m off.” You seethe as you stand up to grab your coat from the floor and wrap it around your shoulders.

Panic replaces the annoyance in his voice, his hand shooting up to cling onto the edge of your coat. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk.” Is your clipped response, being already slightly swayed by the sudden submissiveness and stars twinkling in his eyes trying to make you weak like they always manage to do. “And you better have that freaking bed up and made when i get back.”

You won’t lie, the look on his face does things to you and seeing it fall the second you pull the hem of your coat out of his hands kind of breaks your heart. Still, you’re just so pissed right now you really need to go out to clear your head and get some fresh air. Letting this escalate into a big fight when you’re just moving in together doesn’t seem like a great idea.

All in all, you’re not surprised. You know he’s trying his best, although you’d expected things to go south since your proud boy insisted on proving his ‘manliness’ despite knowing fuck all about Ikea furniture or carpentry. He’s so used to being good at everything he tries his hand on, you’d long seen his outbursts of frustration coming even before he’d grabbed the first screw. Not even Jeon Jungkook gets spared when it comes to the cursed furniture from hell. You’ve heard it being the reason for multiple breakups before and you’re not planning on letting the two of you become that kind of couple.

Still, the longer you think about it, the more you realize you might’ve been a little too harsh on him. Moving in together is a big step and stressful enough as it is. You’re probably not the only one feeling a little on edge lately.

As you walk past a convenience store, you find yourself lingering. Ten minutes later, the door jingles as you walk out of the store with a pack of banana milk, some beer and fried chicken. Counts for at least a nice attempt at making up for your coldness earlier, right? You might even stop by the grocery store to get some fresh lamb skewers, to surprise him with a small barbecue party on your new balcony later tonight.

“Kookie? Baby, I’m home.” You call from down the stairs as you kick your shoes off in the foyer.

As you sprint up the stairs, your boyfriend meets you halfway to greet you with a hug. His dark brown and soft tail instantly curls around your waist while he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his purrs reverberating against your skin. He doesn’t like to say it with as many words, but he shows you how he regrets your earlier argument in his own way.

“I know, sweetie.” You clutch him against you, unable to suppress a smile when you hear the purring intensify. “Me too.”

You take his hand to lead him further up and away from the stairs to minimize the chances of accidents, but stop in front of your bedroom when you see something that wasn’t there before.

“Koo, you assembled the bed?! All by yourself? That’s amazing!” You squeal, pleasantly surprised and pulling him along as you run into the bedroom despite his stuttering protest.

“Wait! ___, I–”

You don’t wait to hear what he wants to say, throwing him on the bed and yourself on top of him. His eyes widen and he instantly glances down at the mattress, rendering you a little confused but you don’t think much of it when he heaves a relieved sigh. You giggle and lean down for a kiss, him already meeting you halfway when both of your ears register the cracking sound underneath you.

The bed collapses violently, all four legs giving out and the box holding the mattress with you on top of it slamming against the floor. The impact has you bouncing a little, shock written all over your faces as a few seconds of silence ensue.

“Woah,” You release a tense breath, ready to laugh it off when Jungkook crosses his arms over his face; a thing you know he does when he’s embarrassed or upset. “Oh– hey, what’s wrong?”

You watch his bottom lip tremble a little, almost unnoticeable but you know him too well to miss it. He shakes his head, trying to avert his face from your eyes. He doesn’t like you seeing him like this.

“Hey, talk to me,” You pout a little, gently prying his arms away from his face, “Baby, come on? What’s the matter?”

“I knew it,” he murmurs, a sad tone lacing his voice, “I knew I was doing it all wrong.”

You huff, playfully rolling your eyes in an attempt to get him to loosen up a little. “Who cares about the bed, Jungkook? You tried, right? Isn’t that the most important thing?”

“I disappointed you.” He wants to hide his face behind his arms again but you grab his wrists before he gets the chance, pinning them next to his head. He looks a little flushed as he keeps his head turned away from you, pout plastered on his handsome face. You don’t like that frown he’s sporting, so you kiss the spot between his eyebrows to make it go away.

“No you didn’t, silly. I was just pissed when I told you to make sure to put the bed up before I came back, I didn’t actually mean it.”

“I took it seriously.”

“I can see that.” You smile fondly. “You always take these things seriously, don’t you?”

“Only because I don’t want to disappoint you.” His blush deepens in color and he looks away again, getting shy underneath your intense staring.

How does he still make your heart stupidly flutter like this? It wants to make itself known, wants Jungkook to be aware of it with the way it beats so loud for him. Despite his ears being a little floppy, the tip of his tail betrays his growing contentment when you see it slightly flick left and right from the corner of your eye. You can’t keep a grin from going ear to ear before you peck a loud kiss on his pouty lips.

“C’mon, let’s go.” You pat his muscular thighs, something awakening between your own in doing so before you realise it but you ignore it in favor of more important matters: comforting your sulky boyfriend.

“Where to?” He asks, big ears perking up atop his head in curiosity.

“To the balcony!” You pick up the convenience store bags from the floor and hold them up ostentatiously.

Five lamb skewers, a large container of fried chicken and several beers later, you sit soaking up the last warm sun rays of the day on your small balcony. You’ve talked and laughed, diffusing the tension moving tends to bring with. A full stomach is a sure way to get your soft kitten guy to relax; instant contentment once you bring meat to the table. He’s happily sucking the banana milk through the tiny straw, still his favorite even though he’s started to take a liking to alcoholic beverages as well, lately. You remember the night you both went to a party and he somehow got his hands on milky banana-flavored liquor, which you had to hide from him all night long or he would’ve had a really rough morning after.

You chuckle to yourself at the memory, Jungkook yawning and stretching dramatically and letting his shirt ride up to pat his abs in satisfaction (you’d say tummy but it wouldn’t be fitting with the way the chiseled muscles are carved into his abdomen even after a full meal).

“Mmm, that was so good.” A lazy smile curls on his lips when he pecks a kiss on your cheek in appreciation of the surprise barbecue you’d prepared.

“I can feel a food coma coming in,” you yawn in turn, hand coming up to rub your sleepy feline behind one of his fluffy ears, “I could totally use a nap right now.”

“We have no bed, though…” Jungkook mumbles a tad bit guilty. You see him thinking and for a moment you’re scared he’ll feel bad all over again, when his face suddenly lights up. “I have an idea!”

You curiously watch him jump up, making a beeline for the unpacked moving boxes and starting to stack them on top of each other.

“What are you doing?” You laugh, following him and silently offering to help carry some boxes, which he refuses. He couldn’t assemble the bed by himself but he can do this, damnit.

Jungkook skillfully folds and unfolds the empty cardboard boxes in and on top of each other until a true construction comes together. It’s like a fort: the ones you’d make as a child with blankets and furniture. You catch on what he’s been trying to do and instantly search for the boxes with blankets and fairy lights (you bought them because you like a cozy balcony) to decorate it and make it that much more inviting.

“That’s cute.” He smiles, a soft expression on his face, watching you concentrate and draping the fairy lights over the cardboard boxes.

The small details really turn the boxes into a little cardboard castle and you can’t help but feel like a kid again. Excitement bubbles inside your chest and you’ve already forgotten about the small argument you’ve had earlier today.

“Ready to enter, m’lady?” He playfully bows and offers his hand, which you take all too theatrically as you attempt a shitty curtsy that almost has you tripping over your own feet, making you both burst out in childish laughter.

Sitting down, your backs rest against the ‘walls’ of the little hideaway in your new apartment as he pulls you into a close hug, squishing his cheek against yours and sighing happily. “Ahh, this is nice.”

“We’ve worked hard today, hm? I say we call it a day and just camp out in here.” You nuzzle your face in his neck, making your ticklish kitten squirm and giggle yet refuse to break the hug. His tail curls enthusiastically, brushing against your cheek in a subtle attempt to tickle you back.

“I second that.” He hums, a soft purr starting to reverberate through his body and reflecting the absence of stress for the first time in a while since the start of the whole moving process.

You suddenly remember another thing. “Oh! Wait, I forgot something!”

Jungkook looks up as you wriggle yourself out of his warm arms to crawl out of the fort, a little confused when you don’t elaborate on that.

“What is it?” He yells from behind cardboard walls.

You come back with two ice-cold popsicles you’ve stored in your little portable freezer after your trip to the convenience store, big grin on your lips as you hold them up.

“Melon or strawberry?”

There’s actually no need for asking, knowing exactly which one he prefers and proven right when his hand shoots up to claim the pink one. He also knows you like melon flavor the best anyway. Getting back into your previous embrace and making yourselves comfortable between the many pillows and underneath the blankets you’ve provided, you set up your laptop to watch a movie on Netflix.

“You really feel comfortable now, don’t you?” You ask sweetly, caressing his jaw with your fingers and hearing the purring intensify.

“Yeah, I dunno...Something about cardboard boxes just really makes me feel at ease,” he mumbles, eyes closed while basking in your affection, contentment written all over his face. “Makes me feel safe.”

Right, cats do love their boxes. You forgot about that little fact. It explains why he came up with the idea when he felt distressed; he probably needed a place to hide from the stress and responsibilities of all this grown up adult stuff. Even if it’s just a symbolic hideout. He’s been trying so hard to conceal the feline part of him, wanting to prove he could be a proper partner. One you could count on. He loves being taken care of since it’s practically engraved in his genes, but he’s been taking more care of you lately. You start feeling a bit bad, having grown too comfortable with how responsible he’s been that you’d forgotten your own responsibilities towards him.

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” You tell him. “You’ve been doing so much and doing everything so well.”

“Not everything.” He stubbornly refers to the bed blunder, starting to sulk a bit again as he suckles on his strawberry popsicle.

You quickly decide to just change the subject. “Hey, let me try yours.”

Jungkook offers you the pink frozen stick as he watches you lean over to close your lips around the sticky syrup. He swears he didn’t mean to place the thing right above his crotch but once he realizes, it’s too late and a furious blush instantly spreads across his cheeks. The moment is gone before he can properly process the onslaught of unholy images attacking his mind when you sit back up, satisfied before popping your own green refreshment back in your mouth.

“Still like melon better.” You shrug and direct your attention back towards the movie, oblivious to the way your boyfriend’s fuzzy ears are perked right up in complete focus and the darkness that cloaks his otherwise gentle gaze.

He licks his lips as he diligently watches yours, slick with spit and sweet syrup as they work around the popsicle. His eyelids feel heavy and his throat dry when he asks if he can get a taste of your flavor too.

“Sure!” You hand him your chilled melon bar but get caught off guard when his lips find your own instead of the green stick.

A low hum trickles off his tongue when he slips it past your lips to savor the sweet melon taste mingled with the familiarity of you as he pulls you closer until you’re practically in his lap.

You’re near having a whiplash with the way he switched from a sulky baby hiding in his carton fort to, well, this. Silently wondering what triggered this sudden change in attitude, you still revel in the way he hungrily searches to taste more of you when sharp canines dare to sting your bottom lip once in a while. He’s careful but insistent, quite literally stealing your breath away as he doesn’t allow much room for you to gasp for air, or have any thoughts for that matter.

“What’s gotten into you?” You lightly chuckle when you have a spare moment to catch your breath, holding off your over enthusiastic boyfriend’s incessant kisses by pushing him back at his chest, instantly making him whine.

“Nothing... just,” He blushes, the glow on his skin apparent even in the dark, face lit by only the weak luminescence of the small laptop screen, “In the mood, I guess.”

“Hmm?” You grin, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt, “Is my baby getting a little needy?”

He knows you’re teasing him but still lets himself get more worked up as his blush deepens and he looks away, grumbling. “I’m not a baby.”

“But you’re so needy,” you keep pushing his buttons, loving how quickly you get the desired effect, “Like a good kitten.”

You feel something harden underneath your thighs where you’re sitting on his lap, the bulge in his jeans gradually growing despite his scowling face and ears flat on his head.

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses half-heartedly, but can’t keep the vibrations inside his chest from being audible as he starts purring heavily, enhancing the sound of his irregular breathing.

You shrug, bringing your popsicle back to your lips and making sure to be loud as you slurp extra hard at the melting sugar water, looking at him from underneath your lashes. He gulps, eyes slightly widening while still trained on how your lips move, ears perking up to catch every sound they make.

“You’re evil,” he whispers lowly, fingers digging into your hips and lips latching onto your jaw.

“Your popsicle is melting,” you gasp as he starts sucking a hickey into your neck, your fingers now gripping around the fabric of his collar. You can try and play with him only for so long before you get equally as affected by his neediness.

You expect a bratty response or an impatient wine at the very least, but certainly not the sudden icy sensation that catches you off guard and covers your skin in goosebumps when he smears the cold liquid all over your throat. You wince, ready to scold your bully of a boyfriend when his hot and rough tongue comes to glide over the cold trail of stickiness the popsicle left behind. A moan escapes your lips before you know it, a hand moving up to tangle itself through the strands of his dark hair and enticing Jungkook to repeat the action. The frozen stick is less surprising the second time it touches your skin, though it still causes a shivering shock to shoot through your nervous system and straight down to your core where you clench your thighs on reflex.

“W-what are you doing?” You have a tough time keeping your breathing under control with the way he’s lapping at your neck and throat, clearing your skin of every trace of tacky strawberry syrup.

His mischievous chuckle reverberates against your neck. “Getting the most out of my popsicle.”

He moves the frozen bar down the cleavage of your shirt, your nipples responding instantly by perking up and showing themselves through the fabric. You suck air through your teeth and Jungkook raises an eyebrow, a smirk plastered on his awfully smug face.

“If the girls say hi, I should greet them back, right?” His grin widens and he looks like the cat that got the cream. Literally.

“Shut up, they’re just being polite.” You grumble, but let him unbutton your shirt with one hand anyway while he continues to coat your skin in the sugary liquid as he kisses his way down the trail.

Your cheeks heat up when he slides the straps of your bra down your arms before pulling the cups down and exposing your bare breasts to the air. Jungkook looks absolutely mesmerized by the view, jaw going slack as he forgets to close his mouth while he concentrates on painting along the swell of your mounds with the ice cold popsicle. Seeing your skin glisten with the sticky fluid, he can’t seem to control his urges much longer. He buries his face between them, his raspy albeit slick tongue hot as it chases after the strawberry flavor.

You drop your head back, reveling in the smooth and pleasant ministrations being inflicted upon your sensitive breasts when he suddenly moves the popsicle to a nipple. He circles it around the little nub, devoting equally as much attention to both sides. A pleasant numbness buzzes through your perky buds and your whole body responds to the extreme temperature by having you soak your panties through with abundant arousal. The heat of his mouth is both welcome and intrusive, the slightly sandpapery texture of his tongue making you arch your back and push your chest closer to his face.

Jungkook is in his own world, lips around a nipple as he sucks, licks and nibbles like he never wants to stop. While nursing one breast with his mouth, his hand stimulates the other with the popsicle; giving you hot and cold at the same time, switching regularly.

You can’t describe how good it makes you feel, yet it’s not enough. You grow impatient, frustrated with how you don’t want him to stop but also need him elsewhere.

“You do realize you’re making it melt faster this way?” You try to get his attention by pulling on his left ear, although your voice is much softer than you’d intended it to sound as it borders on a happy sigh.

“Mmm,” He hums, distracted and purring heavily, looking content to spend the rest of his life glued to your boobs.

You shift your hips a little until you’re properly mounting him, rolling them into his suggestively. “Kookie…”

He momentarily detaches himself from your nipple to gasp softly when he feels the added pressure on his hard dick underneath his jeans.

“But I’m not done yet…” He pouts, gazing at your chest longingly.

“Your popsicle is almost gone anyway.”

He hesitates for a moment, then sits up abruptly before he flips you around and on your back in a swift motion. “Better hurry then.”

“Wait, wha–” You sputter as he hikes up your skirt and pulls your panties to the side, barely giving you time to process what’s happening when he presses what’s left of the popsicle against your clit without any warning. “Jungkook!”

The iciness on your sensitive bundle of nerves makes you want to close your thighs and ban the frozen object from your hot center, but Jungkook is faster. His lips close around your little nub, tongue pressing up and simultaneously sucking hard. You’re nothing but putty in his hands as you throw yourself back and reach for the nearest pillow to bury your cries and teeth in. He does the same he did to your nipples, but it affects you a thousand times more. Hot, freezing, hot, freezing. You’ve never felt a more strange sensation than this numbness paired with oversensitivity.

When his tongue swirls around your clit, it feels too hot and you’re on fire. When the popsicle touches your most sensitive spots, you shiver and get goosebumps all over. He alters between the two so effortlessly, you’re struggling to differentiate the one from the other after a short while. For all you know, he’s doing both at the same time. All in all, you don’t care about what he does as long as he doesn’t stop. Jungkook purrs continuously, adding mild vibrations to the mix as he diligently eats you out. Your body is confused and you find yourself more and more unable to tamper your moans to a less dramatic volume as tears start to pour out of the corners of your eyes. The pillow is your best friend in this moment; letting you bite, drool, cry and dig your nails into the soft fabric. Your breathing turns erratic when your abdomen tightens in preparation of what you’re sure to be an explosive orgasm. The onslaught of sensations proving to be too much for you as you start to tense up.

“K- Kook, I’m gonna- gonna come!” You whimper helplessly as you start letting go, your fingers having found refuge around his big and soft ears, thumbs rubbing up and down on the inside in a subconscious attempt to calm yourself.

Jungkook shivers at the feeling, the inside of his ears a very sensitive and erogenous zone that you keep stimulating without really realizing it. It only serves as extra motivation to get you there as good and fast as he can, amping up the intensity of his ministrations. Sweetness fills his mouth and he moans, strawberry flavor mixed with the familiar taste of your juices generously flowing onto his tongue.

One more suck around your swollen nub pressed against his trembling tongue was all it took to get you falling apart with a cry of his name. Your body curls off the floor, thighs squeezing around your cat boy’s head and his face snug against your pulsating pussy as he laps up the nectar you spill with great enthusiasm.

Feeling spent, you deflate when you finally find time to catch your breath and comfort in the way his soft hair and ears caress the skin of your hand where it’s still tangled in between. You shiver, Jungkook still lazily kissing your hot center with his eyes closed, hands absentmindedly stroking the inside of your thighs. Gently pushing at his head, you maneuver him away from your poor clit that’s burning with oversensitivity. He whines when you close your thighs, taking away his ravishing view on your deliciously swollen lips, slick with his spit and your cum.

“Why are you whining?” You laugh lightheartedly, kissing his lips because you miss them already. Your heart’s full, your cheeks hot, the tenderness between your legs still very present even when the fire Jungkook’s ignited in your chest still hasn’t died. You’re not done, want more of him.

When you move to touch him with your other hand, you finally realize it’s still occupied. Your fingers are sticky with the melted sugar water, but the popsicle still survived for a big part.

“Ah...what do I do with this?” You sigh and start licking your fingers to get them to stick together less when Jungkook clears his throat.

“Do you… I kind of want to try it, too.” He admits, one brow raised and teeth digging into his bottom lip in a playful smirk. “Yours hasn’t melted that much yet.”

“You’re just full of ideas today, aren’t you?”

“Good ideas, yes.” He corrects, giggling way too cutely as he sits back and gets comfortable between the pillows, pulling you on top of him.

“You’re awfully excited to get your dick frozen off,” you grin, your free hand moving to undo his jeans, “I thought cats hated being cold?”

Jungkook laughs, pushing his pants down and pulling his shirt over his head so only his tight black boxer briefs are left, stretching out around his thick thighs. “There’s a few exceptions.”

“How convenient!” You feign surprise, your heart fluttering in your chest at the comfortable playfulness of it all when you go to straddle him, knees on either side of his hips as you perch yourself right atop his rock hard bulge. Even though you’ve only been in this house for a few hours, being with him just makes you feel right at home.

“Mmm, isn’t it?” He smiles as he leans in for another kiss and you’re tempted to let him steal one, but you have some sweet revenge up your sleeve, first.

He yelps when the icy popsicle unexpectedly presses against one of his nipples, his body tensing up in surprise and making you laugh in satisfaction.

You just raise your eyebrows at his scowl, wordlessly coating his chest and abs in the cold liquid and watching him flinch and hiss each time the tip of the popsicle touches a particularly sensitive area.

“You sure you’re ready for this down there?” You ask, emphasizing where exactly you mean ‘downstairs’ by wiggling your hips a bit, letting the curve of his erection sit cushy between your soft lower lips, hot and comfortable through the fabric of his underwear.

Jungkook groans for a moment, breath hitching in his throat when he feels his boxers dampen where your plush pussy envelops his cock in your warmth as you start getting wet again. The prospect of having an icicle pressed against his thin and sensitive skin instead suddenly looks a whole lot less tempting now.

Still, he gets it together again by gripping your hips and allowing himself a nice roll into your heat, however shallow it is with his underwear in the way. He smirks that annoying smirk you hate because you find it so fucking hot when he does that, cockiness all over his face and you brace yourself because it usually means he’s going to say something infuriating.

You’re not wrong.

“Can’t wait for your hot mouth to warm me up again when your popsicle melts and you need something else to suck,” he whispers in your ear before pecking a terribly misplaced chaste kiss on your neck, all words uttered tauntingly without missing a beat. The contrast with the sulky kitten on the verge of crying because he couldn’t stand the thought of upsetting or disappointing you couldn’t be more stark and confusing.

He knows how to catch you off guard, letting you have all the power but then running his mouth and teasing you, getting you embarrassed and needy and hot for him when you were supposed to be in charge here.

“Yeah?” you get ready to play your last card in an attempt to regain some control, “You want my mouth?”

“Need your mouth, baby,” he nods, smiling against your lips when he kisses you.

“Okay, kitten,” you push him further back into the pillows until he’s on his back. “Just lay back for me, yeah?”

The purrs reverberating through his body are so intense you could feel them vibrate all over his body as you kiss down his neck. You take your sweet time making your way south, lips nipping at his nipples where you’ve previously made them hard with your icy melon bar. The taste mingles with his natural scent, a tinge of salt joining the mix when he starts sweating in anticipation of what your tongue’s going to do next.

It’s his mistake, really, not anticipating your pettiness as you go agonizingly slow. You trace the shape of every single ab, ice melting in beautiful rectangles before you lap up the syrup with your tongue. He’s getting frustrated quickly, his tail whipping back and forth impatiently.

“Babe,” your boyfriend hisses through gritted teeth when your own leave gentle love bites on his skin, “can you stop teasing, please?”

“Mmm,” you hum vaguely, ignoring him as your tongue dips shallowly underneath the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“I’m serious,” he whines, “I’m so hard it hurts…”

You smirk at having successfully wiped that smug expression off that damned handsome face of his. He seems to remember who’s in charge now.

“aw, poor thing,” your hand comes up flat against his raging hard-on, stroking him above his underwear, “want me to make it better?”

“Yes, yes… love you...Please make it hurt less,” he mutters softly, a sheen of desperation adorning his already way too fucked out expression and his hand gently petting your hair to appease you, get back in your favor. You can’t say it’s not working.

“Alright, baby. Because you’re being so good, okay?”

He visibly cringes, but still greedily absorbs your praise to the point he’s staining the black fabric of his boxer briefs with precum. The contradictions in this boy never failing to amaze you. You finally hook your fingers underneath the waistband to pull them down his legs, revealing his throbbing cock already slick with precum and heavy balls begging to be relieved of the aching pressure that’s been building up since the second he watched you curl your lips around that damn popsicle.

“Fuck, fuck, please,” he whimpers, hips bucking up in agony.

When something’s swollen, isn’t icing it the best way to decompress again?

You don’t hesitate when you lay the popsicle perpendicular against his straight, tall erection and you have to stifle your laugh because of two reasons: the way the popsicle is significantly smaller than his dick (but let’s take the fact it’s already half melted into account shall we) and the sound he makes when he basically shrinks himself like a shrimp the second the ice cold bar touches his length. You see the regret in his eyes already but a wicked gleam twinkles in yours when you slide the popsicle further down and against his red and straining balls.

“Holy SHIT!” he yelps, starting to maneuver himself away from the freezing torture device but you’ve got him this time, just like he got you earlier. You inwardly roll your eyes at how he’s overreacting like this when he’s done the exact same thing to you.

You pin him down by his hip with your free hand, showing him you mean business when your other hand splints the popsicle against his shaft again. He starts whining, then suddenly gasps when your mouth envelops both.

The heat of your mouth with the cold of the melon bar feels so fantastic, he momentarily forgets how to breathe.

“F-fuck, ___,” he stutters between erratic breaths, hands instantly burying themselves into your hair, “Baby, k-keep go-going!”

The moans you manage to coax out of him already sound like music in your ears. You love it when he gets vocal like this. Wanting to hear more, you sink down lower, taking in more as you relax your throat and let two shafts enter. You have to swallow a lot, the rapidly melting popsicle having melon sugar water glide down your throat in a mix with Jungkook’s slightly salty precum. It might not be the most convenient blowjob you’ve ever given, but it’s definitely the most delicious one.

Humming contently as you enjoy sucking his melon flavored cock in combination with the exuberant swallowing around his head, Jungkook is positively starting to lose his fucking mind. He doesn’t even realize it when his body acts on itself as his hips start snapping up to meet the bobbing of your head, the grip on your hair tightening when he speeds up and has you taking more than you initially thought you could handle.

“Fuck, babe! B-babe I’m gonna c-come, gonna come so s-soon!”

The frozen melon bar repeatedly hits the palate of your mouth, scraping against your tongue as you try your best not to choke on both his dick and the popsicle all the same. A strange buzzing starts to rise in your forehead, going from mildly annoying to kind of painful and you tap out on his thigh with your hand.

The tapping seems to bring him out of his trance just enough to release you so you let go of his dick and especially the popsicle as fast as you’re able to. Jungkook looks absolutely miserable and confused as to why you suddenly let him go when he was this close to reaching his orgasm. Did he do something wrong? Was he too rough on you?

“Ugh! Brainfreeze!” You cringe, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing a palm to your head.

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shoulders shaking and head thrown back in pure amusement as he momentarily forgets he’s been unintentionally edged and left with blue balls.

“Hey! It’s your fault, you jerk!” You feel your cheeks burning but can’t help laughter from bubbling up your throat as well, so you slap his arm for good measure.

“I think you- you’re the first person ever who can say you got- got brain freeze from sucking dick!” He wheezes, wiping away his tears before a new wave of laughter erupts from his chest.

“Listen, do you still want to come or what?” You ask, a bit more serious now.

He needs a few seconds longer to let the laughing fit die out, and then he still has trouble containing that stupid grin. “Of course I do, babe… I’m still hard as a rock.”

“Good, so–”

“But I need you on my cock right now.” And your annoyingly smug slash hot feline is back. “We don’t want another brainfreeze situation, yeah?”

“I swear to god if you’re gonna keep bringing this up–” You start but get shut up by his lips on yours, all serious need again. This boy switches moods like it’s nothing.

Jungkook pulls you on top of him, wasting little time positioning you in his lap and guiding the red and swollen head of his cock to your entrance. You’re wet, that’s an understatement. Before the brain freeze intermezzo you were really getting yourself going with how good he tasted, your favorite popsicle flavor mixed with his natural taste. You were even looking forward to swallowing melon flavored cum, if you’re being completely honest. You’ll never tell him that, though.

He slides in with ease, the slight stretch you always get when you take him feeling more like a welcome fullness. A relieved moan slips from your lips and Jungkook rushes to catch it with his own again, tasting your sounds on his tongue as he starts moving slowly.

“So hot and tight,” he groans, body quivering in satisfaction by getting the snug fit and blazing heat he’s been longing for, “Not gonna l-last long.”

His dick is still a little bit frigid at first, a funny feeling having him inside you like this. Though your body temperature quickly heats him up, you feel it rising within yourself as well. You just feel so wonderfully full, your earlier orgasm having made you more vulnerable for a second one, feeling it approaching as well.

“M-me too, Koo,” heavy breaths leave your lungs frantically when you pick up speed together, hips snapping up and slamming down to meet each other in a cacophony of skin slapping against skin, wet sounds and lewd noises.

The pitch of his voice gets noticeably higher, fluffy ears trembling in sensitivity when he buries his head into your chest and his cock into your cunt as deep as he’s physically capable of before he blows his load inside of you with a strangled moan. The feeling of hot seed splashing against your inner walls makes something snap and you tense when your second orgasm washes over you like a heatwave, intense pleasure mixing with much needed relief. Your muscles relax and you fall limp against your spent boyfriend’s chest, surrounded by pillows and blankets.

You catch your breath in a warm embrace, Jungkook pulling one of the blankets over your naked, sweaty bodies. He looks so pretty, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat and illuminated by the warm little fairy lights framing your cardboard castle.

“I really feel like a king now,” he chuckles lightly, pecking a loving kiss on the crest of your head.

You’re already getting a little sleepy, but smile at his words. “How so?”

“In my castle with my queen.”

“Damn right I am,” you grin, nestling yourself further into his arms.

“This was infinitely better than trying to put up that bed,” he states.

“Definitely,” you murmur sleepily, “Who needs a bed anyways?”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook #hybrid bts #hybrid jungkook #catboy!bts #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtan scenarios #jjk #catboy jungkook

3K notes · View notes

unfolded73 · 4 years

Text

Five Times Ronnie Was a Friend to David and One Time She Was a Friend to Patrick (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

"I think it's less about Ronnie disliking Patrick, and [more about] Ronnie seeing this person come in and having a huge effect on someone she cares as much about as she does David," Robinson said. "Ronnie likes to take her time and figure things out, and err on the side of suspicion." -- Karen Robinson in The Advocate

Rated Teen, 3876 words

___________________________________

When Ronnie saw Stevie get out of the car that morning with David Rose, she almost spit out her coffee.

Ronnie had been going on Roland’s annual turkey shoot since before she’d run for town council almost a decade ago, when she’d shot more turkeys than any of the men on the trip and had earned a lot of grudging respect. This morning, she’d been standing there with Bob and Roland, shooting the same kind of shit they always did. Their council meetings often devolved into this kind of idle chatter, which was one of the many reasons it was hard to get anything done in Schitt’s Creek.

The day was cool and crisp and Ronnie’s thermos of coffee was warm in her hand. She was already looking forward to swapping it for beer later, after they’d hopefully bagged a few wild turkeys. Then David and Stevie arrived, and Ronnie’s attention was thoroughly diverted.

Ronnie hadn’t really spent any time with David Rose yet. She knew Johnny because he’d made a nuisance of himself at a couple of council meetings, and she knew Alexis, thanks to her court-ordered community service. (And yes, Alexis was a princess — the type of person you’d see on one of those ridiculous reality shows on basic cable. But she showed up for her community service dates and made some kind of an effort. Plus she was pretty; not Ronnie’s type and way too young for her, but admittedly enjoyable to look at.) Ronnie had even spoken to Moira, the most baffling of the Roses, a couple of times at the café. David, she hadn’t really given much thought to yet.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d clocked David as queer right away, and she couldn’t say she was sorry to have another queer resident in Schitt’s Creek. But she’d also assumed he was vain and probably an asshole, and she didn’t have room in her life for assholes. Seeing him at the annual turkey shoot didn’t fit at all into her preconceived notion about him.

The way he handled a gun, that fit into her preconceived notion about him. Still, he was trying, and she had to give him credit for that. Ronnie took pity on him and helped with his grip on the gun so that the recoil wouldn’t knock him flat. And when he shot his first turkey in the neck and had to watch it slowly die, she did feel sorry for him, patting his back to commiserate.

When they paused for a break in the early afternoon, Ronnie took it upon herself to bring David a beer. He accepted the bottle with a poorly-restrained grimace. “Thanks.” His voice was quiet, the edges from earlier filed off.

“How did Stevie talk you into this, anyway?” Ronnie asked. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”

He looked down his nose at her. “How’d you guess?”

She just raised an eyebrow and waited.

David huffed. “I don’t know. Stevie asked me, and there had been this bug thing, and… I figured if I said no, it would just confirm her assumption that I have no practical skills. And… I don’t know. She’s been a… friend… to me. So.”

Ronnie nodded, impressed with his openness. Maybe it was brought on by the trauma of killing a turkey, but it was openness nonetheless.

“Plus, I had nothing better to do,” David added.

Ronnie clinked her beer bottle against his. “Fair enough.”

Ronnie couldn’t help being curious when word got around that David was starting to get things set up inside the general store, that maybe he’d be opening his new store soon, although no date had been announced. There was a lot of buzz around town about it — Brenda had been telling anyone who would listen that David Rose was a fan of the moisturizer she made at home and would be selling it under his label. If Ronnie was honest, Brenda was getting a little too excited about it given that the store hadn’t even opened yet.

Still, when Ronnie came out of the café one afternoon and saw a sign painter starting to work on the windows outside, she wandered over to have a look.

She tapped on the door, waiting until David looked up and beckoned before she went in.

Already, she could see David’s mark on the space. All the metal shelving from the old general store was gone, replaced by wood furniture that gave the store a much more upscale look. David was busy sticking labels onto bottles in the middle of the room, his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on his task.

“Hi, Ronnie,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. “Are you here to revoke my business license?”

She laughed. “I don’t have that kind of power.” Sticking her hands in her back pockets, Ronnie rocked on her heels. “I just wanted to get a look at the place.”

David gestured around. “Here it is. There’s a lot to do still.”

She looked around at all the boxes of products, at the empty shelves left to fill. “You don’t have any help?”

“Oh, I do, actually? Not at the moment, but I have a… I guess I have a business partner now?” A furtive smile flickered on his face. “Not officially, yet. But I will have a business partner.”

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Um, Patrick Brewer? He works with Ray right now, but—”

“That guy? Isn’t he brand new in town?” Gwen just so happened to have introduced her to Patrick last week as the newest player on the Café Tropical baseball team.

David shrugged. “I guess.”

“And so you trust him to help you run your business… why exactly?” Ronnie had gotten the impression of a hypercompetitive bro type, what little of Patrick had caught her attention during the game. She hadn’t been impressed.

David’s eyes widened. “Because!” She stared at him and waited for him to elaborate. “Because he knows about taxes and grant money and food product licenses and I don’t know about any of those things.”

“So you’re going to entrust your business to him,” Ronnie said flatly, shaking her head. “Isn’t that exactly the kind of trust that led to your family losing all your money?”

“Patrick’s not going to embezzle money from me,” David said with an eye roll. “For one thing, I don’t really have any money for him to embezzle. And for another, he’s not that kind of person.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” David huffed, flailing his hands around. “Now can you please stop trying to give me more things to be anxious about? Believe me, I’m anxious enough as it is.”

“Okay.” She sighed. David was like an innocent lamb in some ways, she thought, and not just because of his fuzzy sweaters.

“Look, I know the town council would have preferred Christmas World, but—”

“Oh, that was mainly Bob and Roland,” Ronnie said. And Moira, it had to be said, but she wasn’t about to mention that to David in case he didn’t already know. “Personally, I think year-round Christmas stores are tacky.”

“Thank you.”

“Whereas this place looks like it’s gonna be…” She scanned the room again. Somehow it seemed brighter than it ever had under the previous owners. Maybe it was just that the windows were clean. “Really nice. Classy.”

David gave her a charming, lopsided smile. “That’s the plan.”

“Where the hell is Bob?” Ronnie said, looking at her watch. The sooner they got this council meeting started, the sooner she could get on with her day.

“Robert does seem to have a rather dégagé relationship with the clock, doesn’t he?” Moira said, flipping the page on the book she was reading.

“How late is David’s store open?” Roland asked. “Jocelyn wanted me to pick up a couple of things on my way home.”

“I’m afraid I don’t monitor the hours of my son’s place of business, Roland,” Moira said with a bored sigh.

Roland leaned back and put his feet on the desk. “I mean, assuming they aren’t making a habit of closing early so they can get up to some hanky-panky in the back room,” he said with a snicker. And then when no one commented, he added more directly, “Twyla told me David and Patrick are an item.”

Moira finally looked up. “Are you asking me to gossip about my own son’s romantic liaisons?”

Roland was undeterred. “Just curious if the rumours are true.”

“I’m not sure which rumours you speak of, but yes, I understand that David’s relationship with his business partner has grown into an affair de coeur.”

“So you are going to gossip about it then,” Ronnie said, her chin resting on her hand.

“I shall give no further details, Veronica,” Moira said, going back to her book.

Ronnie didn’t give it any more thought until she saw David in the café a few days later. She was lingering over her breakfast at the counter when David came in and ordered a coffee and a tea to go from Twyla.

“How’s the store, David?” Ronnie asked when Twyla went to make the drinks.

“It’s… great, actually. People seem to want to buy the things we sell, which is nice.”

“Well, that is sort of the whole point of owning a store.” She hesitated, unsure if she should say anything else, but then she figured, what the hell. “The scuttlebutt around town is that you and you and your business partner are more than business partners.”

“Oh, so people are talking about us,” David said with a frown.

Ronnie shrugged. “It’s a small town and there’s not much else for people to do. You know how it is.”

He looked insulted at the idea that he would know how it is.

“It’s an awful lot to share with one person, David,” she said, because she’d been there before, when she was young. Madly in love and certain that she’d found the one, the stereotypical U-Haul lesbian, moving too fast and getting her heart broken. She’d learned the hard way.

“Are you giving me relationship advice?” His head moved a complicated dance on the end of his neck, somehow expressing his anxiety better than his words ever could.

“I’m saying that getting involved with the person who you have to run a business with can get messy when things don’t work out.”

His eyes flickered down to his shoes. “I know. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I fuck it up.”

“So sure that you’re going to be the one to fuck it up?” she asked, feeling that same protectiveness that he’d always engendered in her for some reason.

“Well Patrick isn’t going to be the one to fuck it up, he’s… perfect, basically?”

Him? she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Nobody’s perfect.”

Twyla brought over David’s to-go cups.

“Just… be careful, that’s all I’m saying,” Ronnie said, accepting the check from Twlya and pulling out her wallet to pay.

“I will,” David said softly. “I mean, I am.” But she could tell that he was already a goner, his cheeks flushed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He also pulled his wallet from his pocket, handing over some cash to Twyla. “He’s… new at this. Being with a man,” David said, so quietly that she almost didn’t catch the words.

“Oh, boy,” Ronnie said, because she’d been down that road too. She’d been an experiment to a few girls who later decided they weren’t really all that bisexual after all. She’d been forced back into the closet by girlfriends who weren’t ready to be out. All of it sucked. She guessed David had been through his share of those kinds of relationships too.

Fighting every aloof instinct she had, Ronnie put a hand on David’s arm. “If you ever want to talk, I’m around. You can give me a call.”

David looked as surprised by this moment of tenderness as Ronnie herself was. “Thanks, Ronnie.”

“Any time, David.”

Ronnie was on her third whiskey when David and Stevie arrived at the Wobbly Elm.

David was wincing as they joined her at the bar. “I hope my partner hasn’t driven you to drink, Ronnie.”

Ronnie glared at him. As if she cared enough about Patrick Brewer for anything he did to drive her to drink. “I finished the bathroom when I said I would, didn’t I?”

David held his hands up in surrender. “The bathroom is beautiful, Ronnie. The calligraphy workshop last night went off without a hitch.”

“Glad to hear it,” she muttered, her drink back at her lips.

“Will you shut up about the damn bathroom, David? We’re here to drown my sorrows, remember?” Stevie said, poking him in the chest. “Go get us drinks.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, moving down the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

“Drown your sorrows?” Ronnie asked.

Stevie sighed. “The guy I was seeing turned out to be an asshole: the Stevie Budd story.”

“Mm.” Ronnie took another sip of her whiskey. “I’d say the problem is men, but my love life hasn’t been much better lately,” she said just as David rejoined them.

“I thought you were with… what’s her name? The gravel lady,” David said.

“Karen,” Stevie said at the same time that Ronnie said, “We split up.”

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” Stevie said, lifting her hand as if she was going to touch Ronnie’s back, and then wisely thinking better of it and dropping her hand back to the bar.

Ronnie shrugged. “It happens.”

“Wow, this has, like, never happened to me,” David said.

Stevie narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I’ve never been the one with the successful relationship in a group of people at a bar like this. I’m always the one crying into my martini.”

“Shut the fuck up, David,” Stevie said.

“Does that sound like a thing you should be saying to us right now?” Ronnie asked, her voice going high with indignation.

“Just for that, you’re buying the next round too,” said Stevie.

“Okay.” David said, biting his lip. “Sorry.”

***

“And so apparently a casual fuck is all I was good for,” Stevie said before drawing more pot smoke into her lungs. She and David sat on the hood of Stevie’s car at the far end of the Wobbly Elm parking lot. Ronnie stood beside them, holding herself steady using the car’s side mirror and sharing a joint with these children because apparently that was how low she had sunk.

“That’s bullshit, Stevie,” David said, taking the joint from between Stevie’s thumb and finger.

“Well, you’d know,” Stevie said.

“That’s exactly it, though,” he replied before pausing to hold the smoke in. “It’s because you are such an excellent person in other ways that it would have been a mistake to ruin it with sex,” David said in a long exhale before passing the joint to Ronnie. “Or, with more sex, I mean.”

“Maybe I’m also bad at sex,” Stevie said.

“You are definitely not bad at sex. You’re great at sex,” David said.

“Really?” Stevie asked.

David nodded. “Yep. Yes.”

“You’re great at it too, David.”

“Uhhh, yeah. Of course I am.”

“I am getting such a fascinating window into your relationship,” Ronnie said as she passed the joint back to Stevie.

“I bet you’re great at sex too, Ronnie,” David said.

“Damn right I am.”

“Stevie and I tried the friends with benefits thing a long time ago,” David explained, the marijuana freeing his tongue. “And although we’re better off as friends and I’m very much in love with Patrick, that doesn’t stop me from seeing that you are the whole package, Stevie Budd, and if Emir didn’t see that then he can suck a bag of dicks.”

Stevie laughed wildly.

“Same goes for Gravel Karen,” David said, gesturing up and down at Ronnie.

“Uh huh,” Ronnie said impassively, although deep down she was pleased.

Stevie’s head dropped until her chin touched her chest. “I’m gonna have to leave my car here. We should call a cab.”

It occurred to Ronnie that she wasn’t anywhere near sober enough to drive either. She was out of practice at this whole going out and drinking in bars thing, and she was even more out of practice with this smoking pot thing. “I’m too old for this,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll call Patrick,” David said, fumbling for his phone. “He’ll pick us up.”

Which was how twenty minutes later, Ronnie found herself climbing into the back seat of Patrick Brewer’s Toyota next to Stevie, who immediately let her head fall onto Ronnie’s shoulder. David was planting a sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek in the front seat, making Patrick wipe the saliva off his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Wow, you guys reek of pot smoke,” Patrick said, looking at Ronnie with his stupid Bambi-eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Just drive, Brewer,” Ronnie said.

“Straight men are the worst,” Stevie murmured. “Why do I bother with them?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, honey,” Ronnie said, petting Stevie’s hair.

“So they tell me I have you to thank for all the extra flowers,” David said, sinking into a chair next to Ronnie as she put a forkful of wedding cake in her mouth. She caught a flash of his inner thigh before he crossed his legs, and while Ronnie had no interest in the male half of the species, she’d have to be dead not to appreciate David Rose in that skirt and those boots.

“Well, it was the least I could do,” she said after she’d swallowed her bite of cake. “You deserved a nice day.”

“And you and the Jazzagals learned our song,” David said with one of his lopsided smiles, a glass half-full of champagne dangling carelessly in one hand. “You, Ronnie Lee, stood in a room full of people and sang the song that Patrick sang to me at the first open mic.”

“That was Jocelyn’s idea,” Ronnie said with a frown. “I had to go along with the group.”

David elbowed her. “Come on. Admit it. You don’t totally hate Patrick. You like him a little bit.”

She was going to admit no such thing. “I don’t hate that he makes you happy. I don’t understand what you see in him, but I’m glad that you’re so happy.” And then she felt tears welling up again, as if it wasn’t bad enough that she had cried during the ceremony. She fervently hoped no one had seen her wiping away tears.

He grinned more widely, so she guessed she’d given him a satisfactory answer. Ronnie looked over at the dance floor, where David’s husband was currently dancing with his sister-in-law.

“I hear you’re buying the place out on O’Beirn Road,” she said.

He nodded, his face positively glowing with happiness now. “I’ve been admiring that cottage from afar for years. We’ll be moving in next month.”

“A place like that, it might need some work done. I trust you’ll come to me first if you need a contractor?” She took another bite of cake. It was delicious cake, moist and citrusy, and she savored the bite on her tongue.

“Of course we will. I have some ideas for the kitchen, although we might have to wait a year or two until there’s enough money to do justice to my vision.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to do anything that didn’t do justice to your vision.” She ate some more cake and watched David watching Patrick until she couldn’t stand it any more. ��Ugh, your heart eyes are giving me a stomachache. Go dance.”

David held his hand out to her. “Come dance with me, Ronnie.”

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and took his hand and let herself be pulled out onto the dance floor.

+1.

Ronnie had almost dozed off at her desk in Town Hall when he came in.

“Patrick Brewer,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be off on a honeymoon somewhere?”

He approached her nervously, his hands clutched together in front of him like a supplicant. “We decided to hold off on the honeymoon until we could afford to go somewhere really nice.”

“It’s not time to renew your permits for the store already, is it?”

“Nope. I’m here about council, actually,” he said.

“Public meetings are the second and fourth Tuesdays of every month,” she said, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk.

“Okay, but I was more curious about the open council seat. With Mrs. Rose gone.”

“There’ll be an election to fill the seat,” she said, her feet thunking back down to the floor. “Why?”

“I, um… was thinking about running.” He chuckled nervously. “To keep it in the Rose family, I guess.”

“Assuming you’d win,” she said. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Is anyone else running?” he asked, a little of his usual, annoying self-confidence showing through.

Ronnie sighed. “Not yet.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that really the reason you want to run? To keep it in the family?”

Patrick cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. “No. Since we’re settling here pretty much permanently, I’ve been thinking about other ways I might be able to contribute to Schitt’s Creek. I have ideas about bringing more business to downtown. And David and I have gotten to know several of the farmers in the area, selling their products in the store, so I hear a lot about their concerns.”

Ronnie stared at him for another few seconds, and then opened a file drawer, pulling out a form. “You’ll need to fill this nomination form out and get five signatures to support your nomination,” she said, pointing at the blank spaces on the form. “Think you can do that?”

Patrick took the nomination form from her. “Do I think I can get five people to sign my nomination form?” he said, sounding a little bit testy. “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

“You’re a real joiner, aren’t you?” she asked, hand propped up on her hand. “Baseball, community theater, town council… next you’ll be joining the curling club.”

He smirked. “I would, but it interferes with my hockey practice. Besides, Ronnie, you do all those things. Plus the Jazzagals. I’d say it takes a joiner to know one.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Tell you what,” she said, reaching for the form. When he handed it back to her, she signed on the first nomination line. “I’ll give you your first signature.”

Taking the form back, Patrick gave her a bemused look. “I figured I’d be the last person you’d want filling the empty seat on council.”

She shrugged. “Not the last person…”

“Okay, thanks,” he said with an eye roll, turning to leave.

“I’m looking forward to hearing your ideas,” she called, making him stop and turn back. “And if you win, I’m looking forward to kicking your ass on a regular basis, just like I do in baseball.” And then Ronnie laughed, loud and long.

“Good to talk to you too, Ronnie,” Patrick said, headed back toward the door.

She was still laughing. “Say hi to your husband for me!”

#schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

32 notes · View notes

tellthestoryofmybrokendreams · 4 years

Text

Wild Heart

Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender

Pairing: Zuko/Katara

Status: Complete

Words: 2,805

AO3 Link

Desc: Sometimes Zuko wonders if his horrible Agni Kai and banishment or his struggles - with his nation, his destiny, and himself...if all his hardships were worth it. But then he sees her smile.

A/N: Hello all! I'm obsessed with Bleachers, and so many of their songs fit Zutara. So I challenged myself to write a fic for every song. Here's the first one! These fics are ordered in the track order, not in chronological order. Cont...

Basically everything in here is like canon level, except it goes into a bit of detail about Zuko's scar and the healing process. Some of the flashback dialogue/information is taken directly from the show, or Zuko's prequel comic and "The Search". (Which aren't canon, but it's easier to steal from them than to try to get a read on Ozai or make up Fire Nation traditions lol.) I put a lot of effort in to keeping literally everything canon except the very ending, the only difference is that you see Zuko's thought process throughout. This was tough, considering in early season three he's pretty WACK and like ridiculously OOC, especially in "The Beach", and I hate it, but I wanted to show all those little ways that Zutara is still pretty damn canon. Bryke just made Aang their self-insert so he HAD to get the girl.

Anyways, enjoy!

The Fire Lord sits in his study and looks over a proposition from the Earth Kingdom to impose sanctions on the Northern Water Tribe until they agree to help their sister tribe with rebuilding. He knew the first year after the war would be the hardest, but Spirits was this terrible. Every move, every decision, every little choice he made seemed to have boundless political repercussions. Was he endorsing this? Shaming that? At the last big meeting with the Fire Council and various noblemen of the country, he’d served wine to the attendees and apparently picked sides in an argument between two men who owned neighboring vineyards and both claimed the same bit of land between them.

Zuko sighs and rubs his eyes, dropping his head in his hands.

He was tired, he was confused, and he was more than a little fed up. Trials for those involved in the war were still ongoing, and he knew by the end of them all his army would be small and his prisons overflowed.

The other nations needed reparations, both in money and physical assistance as they rebuilt. He was happy to provide all the aid he could, but they needed so much help and the Fire Nation had to rebuild as well. The village his friends had described to him, the one destroyed by pollution from a Fire Army factory, was far from unique. It was clear to Zuko that his predecessors didn’t care very much about their people, or at least not at an individual level.

Was it all really worth this new life?

Zuko had lost his mother and his cousin when he was only eleven. He’d then endured abuse and manipulation from his father and sister ten times worse than before. He’d been indoctrinated into a culture of imperialism and superiority, hearing all throughout his childhood that his nation and his family were superior and deserved all the glory in the world.

Even with the presumption and arrogance he was surrounded and seduced by, he’d still been a source of shame for his father, and suffered for it. Azula was born lucky. He was lucky to be born. It was what his father had reminded him day after day when he couldn’t master firebending like Azula could, when he cared too much, when he spoke out of turn, when he expressed himself, whenever he was less than perfect.

He knows now, perfect in his father’s eyes is something he could never achieve. And if he had? Well, that would be a real reason to be ashamed.

And then he’d just wanted to go to a war meeting. He’d just wanted to show his father he was capable. That he was worthy of love and respect.

When he’d heard the general’s plans to send new recruits into battle as a diversion, like koala-lambs to the slaughter, he’d spoken out before he knew what he was doing. What he had known was that it was wrong, and that he’d hated it.

“You can’t sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them!?”

“Prince Zuko! How dare you speak out of turn and oppose your superior! It is not your place to dispute General Himura’s plans, and to do so is an act of complete disrespect. There is only one response to your insolence, an Agni Kai!”

Zuko turned to General Himura, who must be a cowardly man to sacrifice their new recruits as a distraction instead of launching an invasion honorably.

“I am not afraid. I accept.”

At sundown, the Agni Kai began. Zuko may not have been as powerful as his sister, but he knew he could take a cowardly, and likely weak, old man. He had been confident, but when he turned to face Himura, he saw a face he’d never expect to oppose in a dueling arena. His father, Fire Lord Ozai.

Zuko fell to his knees, both in shock and submission. He couldn’t believe his father was prepared to duel him. Everyone knew who would win. But of course it was Ozai, he may have spoken against a general, but it was in the Fire Lord’s war room. Any disrespect in the Fire Lord’s sanctum is disrespect to the Fire Lord himself.

He could feel tears begin to well in his eyes as he bowed to Ozai, “Please Father! I only had the Fire Nation’s best interests at heart. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn!”

“You will fight for your honor!”

“I meant you no disrespect! I am your loyal son.”

“Rise and fight Prince Zuko!”

“I won’t fight you.”

“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher!”

All Zuko could see as he looked up with tears rushing down his cheeks, was his father’s angry face. And then he raised his fist with white-hot flames blazing, and Zuko felt the worst pain he could ever imagine.

He woke up in the Palace medical chambers. He reached up to feel his damaged eye, and hissed at the pain of his bandages rubbing against the skin edging the burn. He couldn’t see anything from his left eye, and he prayed to the Spirits it was only because of the bandages.

His father stood above him, looking disgusted.

“Prince Zuko, you have shown yourself to be unworthy of the crown and unfit to stand upon the land of our noble ancestors. You are therefore stripped of your birthright and banished from the Fire Nation until you can prove your worth.”

Ozai turned and made his way to the door. Right before exiting, he turned back to his son, “I hope you will not be arrogant enough to keep your full head of hair after losing to the Fire Lord,” he sneered in cruel amusement, “No one likes a sore loser.”

Zuko pulls himself out of his memories and shakes his head to clear it. That was a long time ago. His father’s barbarism could no longer affect him.

Well, it did, but only in the ruined economy and society of the Fire Nation. Zuko no longer flinches when he enters the war room, nor does he feel the stab of pain and resentment in his chest when someone describes him as lucky in any capacity.

But his new life as Fire Lord, somehow boring and hard at the same time, and even all the strength he’d gained, doesn’t quite seem worth all his pain. Those three, almost four, years of searching desperately for the Avatar all across the globe, they weren’t fun. He’d had to face his father and his sister, two people who should have loved him unconditionally, and realize that they were twisted, evil people with no hope of being saved. He’d struggled with, and eventually accepted, the fact that nearly everything he’d learned throughout his childhood about the Hundred Year War and the man who started it was wrong. That what he was doing was wrong. He’d fallen into anger and hatred of himself more than once, despising himself for his actions, and the world around him for driving him to make them.

Really, was all that worth it?

And then his wife strides into his study with a smile on her face and makes her way to his side to give him a kiss. Katara settles into his lap and strokes his cheek tenderly, then snuggles into his chest and rests her head on his shoulder as she reads over the documents in his hand curiously.

“How’s my favorite Fire Lord doing today?”

He closes his eyes and leans into her hand. He can’t feel anything where Ozai burned him nearly five years ago, but he thinks he can always make out a ghost of his wife’s touch. She doesn’t even have to use her healing, there’s just something about her that makes the impossible seem otherwise.

“Better, now that you’re here,” he answers with a smile.

Thinking back, that’s sort of always been the case. His day has always been made better when Katara was around, even if that just meant Aang was close by. Really, even his past self, angry and stupid as he may have been, could appriciate her glowing brown skin and fierce blue eyes that never lost the love in them.

Even throughout his stupid decisions, his betrayal, and his repeated attempts to hurt them, she’s always seen right through him. She may not have trusted him, but she’d always known that beneath all the anger and hatred and animosity, he was really a scared kid who wasn’t sure what was right. Even when she’d yelled at him beneath Ba Sing Se, called him a terrible person and declared that as the Fire Lord’s son he was only capable of evil. Even when she blamed him for her mother, she knew. This time, she’d been the one covering things up with her anger, because she’d known that all he needed was to see the light. And honestly? She could have been just the person to help him.

When he’d offered up the story of his mother, desperate for her not to hate him, not even knowing why, she’d remembered the truth she’d always known. Her heart and hand reached out to him, and he took it. And really, he’d never let go. She’d apologized, and he’d confessed that he was considering choosing his own destiny. She’d even offered to heal his scar. And when she’d brushed her fingers across it, he’d known she was special, that she probably could heal it. Especially with that Spirit Water. Uncle had told him in their weeks at sea that the water from the Spirit Oasis could reverse death if the soul hadn’t left the body yet; he’d never imagined they’d give that away to the Avatar’s waterbending master.

But despite all this, he’d still been weak. He’d longed for his father’s love, convinced he had no one else’s. And he’d betrayed her. He’d fought her and the Avatar, and he’d stood aside in horror as Azula killed him.

“I thought you had changed!” she had yelled as they fought.

“I have changed,” he’d responded, and he had. He finally knew the truth, he just forced himself to ignore it.

“She has the Spirit Water,” he’d thought, trying to excuse it all. He’d get to go home, see the people and land he missed. His father would welcome him back with love, perhaps even hug him. His honor would be restored. It was everything Zuko had wanted.

And yet, it still didn’t feel right. All he could see when he went to bed every night was Katara, holding the Avatar’s body with a look of pure despair. He knew, even if he was loosening his grip on her hand, he still grasped her finger tips.

He’d kept a hold on them as he made his way through the beginning of the life he’d always wanted. Terrified of losing it if the Avatar resurfaced, he’d hired an assassin. And as soon as he’d gotten home, he’d collapsed on his bed and screamed, “Stupid stupid idiot why would you do that it’s not right he’s a child-”

This had run through his head on repeat, even as he’d tried to make it work with Mai. But she just hadn’t got it, hadn’t got him. He hadn’t been sure he’d made all the right choices, but she hadn’t seemed to care about his inner turmoil. Whenever he’d been concerned, her emotionless face had seemed to say “Why do you care so much? Why are you so freaked out? You’re the Fire Prince, what do you have to worry about?” She’d mostly wanted to kiss and laze about in that privileged way only royals could. He’d given her gifts, tried to be thoughtful, just like a boyfriend should. She’d just disregarded it, hadn’t even cared that he’d wanted them to be happy, he really had. And even though he’d fought with her and had no fun throughout their tiring relationship, he’d still gotten jealous of Ruon-Jian. She was the one who’d really wanted it, she was the one who had a crush on him when they were kids. And she still couldn’t keep her eyes off some idiot jock at a house party? She’d been chatting with him! She never chatted with anyone! He’d gotten angry, and he’d shoved Ruon-Jian. And then she’d yelled at him for not keeping his temper under control, and declared their relationship over. If he had been honest with himself, he would have known that it was a relief, a weight off his shoulders. But he’d still been deluding himself, and he’d still thought he wanted a perfect Fire Nation girlfriend.

The thought occurred to him once or twice that he needed Katara to lecture some sense into him, maybe smack him with a water whip a few times.

But he tried to make up with her, with Azula, with Ty Lee. They’d attempted to have a group therapy session, like they were normal teens with normal problems just contemplating their place in the Universe instead of four of the most important teens in the world at the time, each with a crucial role to play in the war they’d had no choice but to fight in.

He’d told them he was angry at himself, which was true, but he’d told them he didn’t know the difference between right and wrong anymore, which was a lie. He’d known the difference, but he’d still purposely chosen wrong and he was furious at himself for it. He’d silently cried himself to sleep that night, aching to reach out and take Katara’s hand properly, like he should have before, but knowing that he didn’t deserve to hold it then.

His uncle’s disappointment had hurt the most. And even though Iroh was so, so disappointed, he’d still sent that letter. As Zuko read the history of his great grandfathers, and heard Iroh explain the truth, he’d known Uncle was right. There was good and evil at war in him, confusing him, the good in his heart, and the evil forced into his mind over and over again. He’d known then his true destiny, to repeat this fight between good and evil carried out between two people who should love each other. Roku and Sozin were best friends and battle brothers. He and Azula were brother and sister.

And yet, selfishly, he’d stayed just a little bit longer. Mai was being good to him again and it was just so nice. He’d even let himself have a petty little Fire Court problem: he hadn’t thought he’d been invited to the war meeting. But he had! He’d gotten to sit at his father’s right hand and give his opinions without fear of getting a flaming fist to his good eye.

But then his opinion had led to Ozai and Azula deciding to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground, and he had to admit the time for being selfish was long since past. He’d packed his things and prepared for the Day of Black Sun, writing a note to Mai explaining everything and timing his confrontation with his father so he’d have to listen instead of giving his son another scar.

And finally, he’d grabbed Katara’s hand properly. She pulled him up to his feet...and then tried to pull her hand away in fear of him gaining her trust again just to break it. He deserved it, obviously. But he fought to prove himself to her, and he did. Now her hand grabbed his tightly and pulled him close.

He would never let go again.

And now as they hold each other close once again, thoughts of family dancing at the back of their minds, he decides, definitively, that it was worth it. He’d do it all again, ten times worse, if it meant he could still have Katara.

“I will need your help on this one though my love, I’m afraid I’m far from understanding Water Tribe politics.”

She tosses her head back and laughs, and for the millionth time he memorizes her every detail. Her big, beautiful blue eyes, her long mahogany tresses she wears in Water Tribe braids pulled up into a Fire Nation top knot that holds her crown perfectly, her golden brown skin that always has that magical glow to it, the slope of her nose, the way her full lips curl in when she genuinely smiles...he could go on. He knows every little bit and bob of her body and he adores each one. Every night in their bed he lays a kiss to every inch of her, thanking the Spirits again and again for blessing him with this goddess.

He would do anything to keep them perfect like this, he knows it.

Further notes: For the record, my family and I had a huge debate on what degree Zuko's burn was and what level of damage it would have caused. It's weird since the scar's appearance suggests 3rd or 4th degree, but he can still hear and move his eye, suggesting 2nd. Eventually we settled on moderate 3rd degree and concluded that he lost sight in the eye but not movement. He's got a good amount of nerve damage, and his skin is likely leathery and tight. With modern medicine and skin grafting, he would have had a much better time, and if treated quickly enough he may have been able to eventually regain sight. Frustratingly, there isn't much documentation of thermal burns to the eyes and their effects, seeing as a burn like Zuko's is extremely rare. Generally, if your eye is burned your whole face is burned and they're usually more concerned with your ability to breathe.

11 notes · View notes