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honeytae · 3 years

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I’ll just be your hot new assistant for the day.

hi lovies! i have to apologize in advance because this is kinda sort of a mess lol. like, it started out as one thing and then i added a million more scenes than i needed to. but oh well, it’s super cute. enjoy the fluffiest of fluff with our dearest seokjinnie <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters genre: fluff

word count: 2.3k

Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-

“Ugh.”

Grunting as you withdrew your arm from where you’d had to stretch to silence your blaring alarm, you turned in Seokjin’s hold, the man’s slacked arms easy to manipulate from around your torso.

In your new position, you could see every resting feature in the soft glow of your bedroom; every effortlessly beautiful one.

You had the best view of everything from right here, mere inches from his face. The way his soft eyelashes rested on his cheeks, and oh his cheeks. In their resting position, the apples of his cheeks looked plump and ready for impending smooches, which you were more than willing to give.

With a small sigh, you shifted your eyes to trace over the center of his face, admiring the natural beauty there as well. It was hard not to look, with the slope of his nose highlighted by a slight shadow from where your curtains were only slightly drawn, the glimpse of sunlight filtering in making his skin glow gold compared with the white pillow his plush cheek smushed up against in his slumber.

His pretty pink lips were parted only the tiniest bit in a small pout, practically begging to be kissed as quiet puffs of air escaped past them.

It should be illegal for someone to look so beautiful in the morning. Especially when you had to leave for work within the hour.

Deciding to cave into your desires, you laid a hand down on the mattress, gently leaning toward his sleeping figure to peck his resting lips with your own. They were just as soft and tempting as they’d looked, not a chapped section of skin to be felt as his velvet lips rested against yours.

Pulling back slightly, you examined his features, satisfied that he hadn’t stirred from the action and going in for another quick peck. This time, his lips twitched beneath your touch before pushing back in a pursed pucker, the man sleepily responding to your kiss with one of his own.

You pulled back with a giggle at the change of events, your boyfriend’s eyes squinting back at you as you admired his freshly awoken swollen eyes.

“Good morning.” He rasped, eyelids falling shut again before he comically pried them open with a swipe of his fingers on the soft skin underneath his eyes.

“Morning. Sorry I woke you up.” You said, brushing some of his hair down to his scalp as he hummed in response.

He’d been growing his hair out recently, which you were most definitely a fan of. And perhaps your favorite part of him growing his hair out so much was the wild bed head you were met with each morning.

“I’m just that tempting, love, hm?” He smiled a bit, the smugness in his tone making you roll your eyes before setting your head on his chest, shaking in a bout of laughter.

“Tempting is maybe the wrong word.” You smirked, the man’s laughter increasing at your fight back on his attempt to tease you.

Lifting your head from his chest at the sound, your heart seemed to do backflips at the vision of him giggling up on his pillow. The apples of his cheeks that were resting only minutes ago were now lifted into his eyes, tiny little crescents that glittered in the slivers still visible.

Staring as he sighed, you watched as his features relaxed back into where they naturally sat.

“I can’t complain. I woke up with a beautiful woman on top of me.” He smiled, making you squint with your lips pursed as you tried to hide the effect his words had on you.

“Charmer.” You shook your head, the motion halting as Seokjin’s hand suddenly cupped your jaw.

“I’m so lucky to wake up with the most beautiful woman every single day.” He said, his tone more serious as he instilled that fact into you.

There was no doubt you’d been feeling a bit inadequate lately, in every area more than just one in particular. Seokjin, the doting lover he is, didn’t have to announce that he’d noticed. The look in his eye told you he knew.

“What about when you’re away?” You teased, the man effortlessly brushing off your attempt at deflection from the topic at hand.

“Then I wake up with the most beautiful woman on my mind.” He hushed, laying your head down on his chest again with a gentle force of his palm, lacing his fingers through your hair and soothing your bedhead with a hummed exhale.

At peace, your eyes began to start closing again, nearly falling back into much-needed sleep as you nuzzled your cheek back into the man’s warm chest.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The second round of blaring was all to be registered as you blearily sat up off of him, both of you groaning at the disruption of the peace and quiet you’d built within the apartment.

“I guess I need to get up.” You sighed, frowning when you felt Jin’s arms latch around your torso a bit tighter than their loose hold previously.

“Jinnie, I need to get up.” You said more definitely, turning your face back toward him to emphasize your seriousness.

At your words, Seokjin tightened his grip around you again, chuckling a bit into your shoulder when you scoffed at him.

“I’m gonna be late, Jin. And it’s going to be your fault.” You informed him, glancing at the time displayed on your digital clock with a huff. You were cutting it way too close.

“Blame it on me. Say that you have the most handsome man in the world in your bed right now and can’t afford to leave him for the day.” He mumbled, the narrative making you chuckle with a shake of your head.

“Can’t do that. There has to be a legitimate reason.” You raised your eyebrows to emphasize your point, the man humming in mock thought as his eyes squinted slightly at you.

“I thought that was a pretty legitimate reason. How about I just come with you then?” He proposed, a knowing smirk on his face as your eyes squinted back at him, an attempt at analyzing the sense out of what he just said.

“Come with me? To work?” You cocked your head to the side, the man nodding with another confirming hum as you giggled atop him.

“You can sneak me in, babe.”

“Don’t you think they’ll notice if you come with me?” You raised your eyebrows in amusement, Seokjin adamantly shaking his head to disagree.

“Nope. I’ll just be your hot new assistant for the day.”

At that, a loud laugh escaped you in the bedroom, a smile lifting Seokjin’s lips at the sound before he leaned up to nuzzle his nose against your temple, pouting as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Jinnie,” you called for his attention, listening to him hum again to let you know he’d heard you, “can you let me go get ready now?”

Feeling his arms loosen slightly around your frame, you practically made a run for it, met with a whine as you wriggled out of his slackened hold and sat on the edge of the mattress to boost yourself up from it.

You ignored his many mumblings as you left him alone in the bed, mumbling a curse of your own as your foot caught on your t-shirt from last night.

Finally stumbling your way into the bathroom, you rubbed the remaining bleariness out of your eyes, lids still heavy as they were hit with the bright fluorescents in the spacious room.

After swiping some of your hair back from your face, you made your way toward the shower, desire for warm water rushing down your back growing by the minute. With a haphazard grip on the faucet handle, you adjusted the temperature to just the right one in order to not burn your skin.

You’d done it one singular time in middle school and, frankly, you’d never recovered.

The feeling of the hot water being splashed onto your face was beyond refreshing, actively waking you up and getting you more mentally prepared for the shift you needed to work during the next several hours.

With only one yawn under your belt, you managed to make it through a six am shower, making sure to get properly woken up before you ventured out of your bathroom to begin the long day ahead.

Seokjin was sleeping again when you crept back into the bedroom in your towel, sprawled out on his back with his arms bent at the elbows to frame his head. The sight made you believe that he’d unintentionally fallen asleep while waiting up for you, something that was totally unnecessary but absolutely endearing.

Smiling a bit at the sight, you took a moment to appreciate it before approaching your wardrobe, picking out some appropriate clothing before slipping into some undergarments from your drawer.

Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of your wet hair soaking into your shirt, you made your way back into the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel to soak up the remaining water from your strands.

Would these early mornings ever get easier for you?

Exhaling as you grabbed your toothbrush, you rinsed the head before carefully squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto the collection of bristles, letting it hover beneath the trickling faucet again before lifting it up to your mouth.

Closing your eyes as you began moving the stick in your mouth, the bristles gliding over each and every tooth as you nearly fell asleep standing up, you missed the way Seokjin rubbed at his eyes as he made his sleepy entrance into the bathroom.

You missed the way he smiled a bit as he watched you through the reflection, raising his eyebrows in a bit of a teasing manner as you opened your eyes to spit in the sink. Mouth still foaming from the toothpaste, you raised your eyebrows back at him, mumbling a muffled “what?” as he continued staring at you.

“I’m just admiring.” He shrugged, chuckling as you rolled your eyes before dipping your face down close to the sink to spit out the spare toothpaste that had gathered in your mouth.

Turning back to face the man, you smiled at him, the puffiness from sleep somehow making him cuter.

“Come here.” You cooed, holding your arms out at your sides for him to step into.

Shuffling along the tile, Seokjin eagerly followed your prompt, wrapping his limbs around your torso to hold you to him. Placing his forehead on your own, both of you let a content sigh escape your nostrils.

Puckering his lips out to you, you giggled as you tilted your head to place a pert kiss to his pout. He eagerly chased your lips when you tried to pull away, sliding his fingers into your hair to hold you secure.

The action would have been sweet if your hair hadn’t still been tangled and wet from your shower, the sting of your scalp from the slight pulling of his fingers getting caught in your hair making you wince against his mouth.

“Oh sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.” Seokjin apologized, rushing to soothe your head with a rub of his fingers as he pouted in concern at what had happened. Dismissing his apology with a laugh, you shook your head at him, jokingly tutting your tongue at the clumsy action.

“You okay?” He checked, making you chuckle as you nodded to assure him.

“Okay. Now, let me help you with this.” He gestured to your mess of tangled hair, reaching over to grab the paddle brush beside the sink before leading you over to the toilet with both hands on your shoulders.

Letting one hand leave your body, he lowered the toilet lid so that he could sit, pulling you down to sit between the spread ‘V’ of his legs with both palms on your hips.

“Tell me if I pull.” He mumbled, placing a careful hand on the crown of your head before slowly guiding the brush down through your knots.

Your eyes shut on their own accord as Seokjin soothed the brush through your hair, eliminating the knots with each stroke as his fingers smoothed over each brushed plait. You could tell he was being extra cautious to not tug on another knot, making you thankful that your back was to him so he couldn’t see the adoring grin on your face.

God, he was so lovable.

He was lovable as he hummed something under his breath behind you, he was lovable when he concentrated so hard on not pulling that he was no longer even speaking, he was lovable when he peppered kisses to the back of your head when he had finished.

“All done?” You wondered, the man humming again as a confirmation, smiling as you turned your neck to see him.

Seokjin was slightly more awake now, probably due to the dedication he’d put toward fixing your hair, and the corners of his lips pushed his cheeks up as he smiled at you.

“Thank you.” You said, leaning back to cup his jaw and direct his lips to yours in an appreciative gesture.

Going in for another before pulling away, your boyfriend guided you back to a standing position and turned you to face him with a pull of your hand, standing up himself with a squeeze of your appendages.

“Alright, now you finish up in here, I’ll start breakfast.” He directed, dropping a kiss to your forehead as you began protesting him not going back to bed.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I allowed you to go to work hungry?” He smirked, knowing he’d won the argument when you remained silent.

With a content ‘hmph,’ Jin began to exit the room, turning around to shoot you a wink before he disappeared behind the door frame.

The shuffling of his feet down the hall was soon followed by running water and clinks of pans, making you smile at the domesticity of the situation.

#bts fanfiction #bts member x reader #bts reader insert #bts imagines #bts fluff #kim seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin imagines #kim seokjin fluff #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagines #fanfiction #writing #imagines #fluff #x reader

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stanakin96 · 3 years

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All I Want For Christmas Is You - Obikin (coffee shop au)

“His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi and I think about him constantly.

He’s a post-doctoral fellow and a professor at Westside. He likes to read old and new books. His family lives far away, he told me. He orders a medium coffee, black. Sometimes iced if it’s warm outside.”

Anakin could feel his face going red talking about his favorite customer to his coworkers before the start of his shift. He usually came twice, sometimes three times a week, early in the morning and wearing some variation of a suit before his classes at the local University. Anakin made a point to learn something new about him every time he made his coffee, though they could barely move past the coffee hand-off before breaking out into a full-on conversation.

“I promise you’ve seen him. You can’t miss him.”

One of his coworkers, Poe, put on a green baseball cap and his fingers to his chin. “Blonde? Smiley? Gorgeous? Tips like crazy?” He asked.

Anakin felt his heart drop to his stomach. The past few times he’d taken Obi-Wan’s order, he’d thought, maybe the older man had been flirting with him. But if he’d been tipping Poe, then Obi-Wan was just a friendly guy.

“That’s him,” Anakin said glumly, putting on a red cap to compliment Poe’s in honor of a company-wide Christmas theme, his hair poking out at the bottom. He slipped off the countertop to go unlock the doors of the café.

“Maybe he likes you Ani, you never know,” said Padmé, pretty and quiet like a bird. Anakin knew she was just being nice to him. A cold sliver of air came in before Anakin could quickly close the door back shut. He didn’t mind Christmas but hated the cold. He felt a full-body shiver go through him and his apron while Padmé clicked on the Christmas soundtrack. Anakin wished for something to kick across the store.

I don’t want a lot for Christmas…

…there is just one thing I need

Anakin’s morning proceeded how he expected it to. The café was filled to the brim with customers who were anxious to get their coffee and Christmas shop. From loud groups of teens to angry moms who demanded free coffees, Anakin thought there was no way to redeem the day. After a few hours of holiday madness, the café had come to a slow and he was nearing his break.

“Next customer,” he said, loud and annoyed.

“Good morning Anakin,” said a voice he could undoubtedly recognize. He ripped his head up from the cash register.

“Good morning-“ he managed to echo out, face to face with Obi-Wan. The young professor wore a grey scarf and a tight, black coat. Anakin thought, perhaps, nobody should be allowed to wear it except for him. “What can I get for you today?” He asked, after a few seconds of staring at the customer, mouth likely wide open. Obi-Wan smiled back at him, it made his skin go warm.

“Just a-“ Obi-Wan started.

“Medium black coffee?” Anakin answered, reveling in his attempt to flirt, even if he failed. He reached for one of the red and green paper cups to his left.

“Yes, but,” Obi-Wan started, “for here,” he replied, eyebrow raised and smile cocked to the side. Anakin felt his stomach churn and he wondered if Padmé was watching. He set the paper cup back down and quickly looked down at the register to try and calm the blushing.

“I’ll make sure to bring that to your table,” Anakin said, tendering the change and handing it back to Obi-Wan with a light smile, doing his best to cover how heavily he was breathing. Obi-Wan smiled at the accidental brushing of their fingertips.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, before walking away and sitting down. Anakin quickly checked to see if there were any customers in line before turning around to his coworkers.

“I’ll work the register. Go on break. Are you kidding me right now?” Poe asked, elbowing Anakin in the stomach.

Anakin picked out the mug he’d been saving for Obi-Wan, a white one with royal blue trim on the edges. Not that he’d been imagining of the day that Obi-Wan would finally get a coffee “for here” instead of “to go”, but that he’d absolutely been imagining it. He brushed spare crumbs and grounds off his apron before pouring his coffee.

… I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know…

He tried not to imagine Padmé and Poe’s eyes glued to him as he made his way to Obi-Wan’s table, a tiny one tucked away in the corner of the café. One of Anakin’s favorite spots.

“One medium black coffee for Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin said, setting the mug down on the table in front of Obi-Wan, blown away that he had not spilled it yet.

“Thank you, actually,” he paused, “would you like to sit?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin could hear his ears ringing loudly like somebody had fired a gun near him, Obi-Wan took a big sip of his coffee.

“Yes, of course,” he stuttered out, wishing he wasn’t wearing a dirty apron and a Christmas baseball cap. He mentally punched himself for not taking them off before his break.

“You know every time you come in it’s the highlight of my shift,” Anakin admitted, figuring there was no better time, to be honest than before his days off.

“Now that you say that,” Obi-Wan started. Anakin was sure he was about to shoot him down, disagree, or remind him how young he was. “Every time I come here; I result to thinking of one thing during my lectures.” Obi-Wan smiled brightly before bringing the coffee back to his lips, a place Anakin couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of.

Anakin looked down at the table and quietly laughed, “your students?”

“You.” Obi-Wan replied, so cool it burned.

The barista felt his face go completely red as he slid it into his palm. The pair must have interacted one hundred times. One hundred fifty times. They’d talked about everything from careers to families to dreams, all in few minute interactions over passes of paper cups and credit cards. Anakin grew to know Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan him over a collection of rose-tinted vignettes, each short-movie warmer than the last.

“If I think about you all day and you do the same, then is this our first or second date?” Anakin asked, no longer feeling the sinking nervousness in his stomach and instead, leaning closer to Obi-Wan over the table, eyes still focused on his lips.

“Not the first, I hope,” Obi-Wan, replied, setting down his coffee with a sense of finality.

“Why’s that?” Anakin asked, Obi-Wan eyed around the room before he slipped a few fingers underneath the top of Anakin’s apron, pulled him in close, and kissed him.

Anakin could feel himself melt into Obi-Wan, the smell of his skin, how soft his lips were. The barista, more eager than he anticipated, gripped tightly to Obi-Wan’s coat and kissed him harder, anchoring himself to the feeling of being close to him. Had it not been for Obi-Wan slyly pulling away, Anakin didn’t know if he would have been able to stop.

“So I could kiss you,” Obi-Wan replied, smiling.

“I wish you’d do it again,” Anakin replied, still unsure if he was existing in his real-life or not.

“I will if you’d like to go on a date with me, outside of here. Not that there’s anything wrong with coffee.” Obi-Wan said.

Padmé turned up the volume of the café speakers so Christmas music boomed through the shop, Anakin still thought he could hear his heart chiming in his ears. Anakin smiled, thinking about how Obi-Wan foolishly thought that would be the last time he’d be kissing him before the end of his break.

…Make my wish come true…

“I’d go anywhere with you,” Anakin replied, wishing this part of the movie would never have to end.

…All I want for Christmas is you…

ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300563

thanks for reading !

#obikin #anakin x obi wan #obi wan x anakin fic #obikin fic #my writing #:)#obikin christmas #christmas tw

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fenheart87 · 3 years

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Long Lost to the Present

This is Part One of my gift for the Naruto/Boruto exchange! Part Two is about half done, I just wanted to get the bulk out before our deadline. Happy Holidays! @whynoteswhispered

Sasuke mentally checked through his belongings a final time before letting out a small sigh, his mother had been tight lipped about where exactly they would be taking their winter family vacation so if he needed anything, he would just buy it. Truthfully, he was prepared for pretty much any weather they would encounter over the two weeks. The youngest Uchiha zipped the suitcase and set it on the ground, clicking the button to release the handle and grabbing his backpack with his laptop and other electronics to swing over one shoulder. A final glance determined Sasuke had everything he would need and with a barely contained sigh, he made his way down stairs where everyone would meet before loading up and leaving.

"Sasuke! Are you ready dear?" Mikoto asked, passing off her luggage to her husband. "Oh, I can't wait till we get there!"

"I'm ready." Sasuke nodded to his father and brother, taking his turn to load his suitcase into the SUV they rented. "Now if only you would tell us where we are going…"

“So, I was talking with Kushina," dread settled instantly into his stomach at the mention of the redhead, "and we agreed that it has been sometime since we last shared a holiday together and we will be spending our first week with them at Jiraiya’s house in the mountains then continue to our cabin for the other week."

"It has been a while since we’ve seen Minato and Kushina… I wonder if she ever got better at cooking." Fugaku said gruffly, a tiny sliver of humor shone through that statement.

"Hopefully we can see Naruto too, no one is sure what he’s been up to these days." Itachi chimed in, staring none too discreetly at Sasuke.

That statement didn't seem like the Naruto Sasuke knew and for a moment he had to remind himself that they had parted ways years ago. While the blond always said Sasuke was his best friend, the raven was unsure until he changed schools what exactly Naruto meant to him. That first year apart had been hell, every time a notification came through or a phone would ring set him on edge so badly, he withdrew into nothing but music only from his iPod.

"I wouldn't have the slightest idea."

"Ah, that's right." Itachi words caused the younger's feathers to ruffle but before the boy could engage in their passive aggressive argument their mother stepped between them.

"Seven days boys, I do hope I will be bringing home two sons and not leaving any to be adopted by the Namikazes." The warning was very real under her cheerful tone and both of her children backed down, following her and their father out to the car.

Sasuke was dreading this trip now, his dread easily outweighed any excitement he had previously. What was supposed to be a simple holiday trip with his family, including his ever-busy father, was now turning into a nightmare from hell. The raven was sure his elder brother had to have some hand in it. The first family trip in a handful of years and now Sasuke would have to suffer the distracting presence of one Naruto Uzumaki or risk upsetting his mother.

"You don't look excited like I thought you would…" Itachi spoke casually, face showing nothing of his amusement unless you knew how to find the slight look in his eyes.

"What am I supposed to be excited for exactly?”

“Aw, you’re hurting his feelings and we haven’t even left yet. How cruel little brother.”

“Itachi, be nice! Sasuke is finally home and I know while he loves me,” Mikoto smiled brightly and pulled her younger son into a hug, “you being mean is exactly why we cut this from two weeks to just one.”

Sasuke lingered in a half hug from his mother, a feeling of warmth that always accompanied the action sank into his tense form and relaxed the harsh lines. Identical eyes locked into a staring contest for a long moment before their father snorted and drew their attention.

"The drive is a long one, if you can't handle it then you can stay and keep the office in order." He advised, making his point with a glare before entering the car.

"Truce little brother?"

"Hn." This ride was going to be a long one indeed.

The weather seemed suspended, the snow twinkling as the sun was reflected off it and the air mild for this time of year in the mountains. Sasuke tried to remember if he had ever been to Jiraiya’s cabin before but was coming up with nothing but bits of when Naruto had shared his summer adventures.

"Sasuke! How was your summer? I bet it wasn't cooler than mine! Peavy sage and I found this pond and there's these Sakura trees and in the water there's a bunch of tadpoles! We had to keep cleaning out the petals, I feel like my back has aged twenty years."

He had to rouse himself from memory lane as they pulled up the long drive. The logs were well kept and the cabin seemed quite spacious, hopefully it would be easier to avoid a certain blond. There were various trees in bloom or dormancy, nothing like the well-kept grounds of the Uchiha main house. Sasuke could certainly see the frog motif with the at times gaudy decor and after hearing stories for years, it wasn't as bad as he was expecting.

"Looks like he did get a key after all." Itachi mused quietly, almost quiet enough for his younger brother to miss it. At the look of inquiry, he continued lightly, "Jiraiya has been having some… Extra responsibilities as of late and wasn't sure he would be here when we arrived. The good news is the house has been cleaned and aired out for us already."

"Do you remember which room is yours Sasuke?"

"It's the one to the left of the gar-" he had to pause, that was Naruto's usual room and he no longer was welcome to share like they had always planned. The silence was heavy for a moment, never had Sasuke wished things had turned out differently more than at that particular moment. "No, I do not."

"It's next to mine, we have a wonderful view of the mountains." Itachi offered, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving a light squeeze for reassurance.

"I'm fine." The younger shook off the hand and climbed out of the car, pulling his phone out as an excuse to ignore his family.

The sliding door opened, the wooden panels that made up the shade clattering angrily. A large box made its way out first then the blond holding it, carefully stepping out to the deck and nearly dropping the box with a curse. With a deep all body sigh, Naruto stood up straight and raised his face to the sun, the natural light highlighting his figure. Sasuke stated for a long moment, trying to blend the young gangly knucklehead he remembered with this adult version complete with an attractive solid build.

"Oh my, is that really my little sunflower?! Naruto, I did not give you permission to grow up without me!" Mikoto called out, leaving Fugaku to grab the bags as she hurried to the deck. Blue eyes found once familiar black orbs first before breaking their gaze and a shy smile breaking out on the tanned face.

"Ah well ya know sunflowers are, just sprout up when no one's watching." Naruto accepted the hug stiffly until she whispered in his ear that caused him to melt into the long hug.

"Keep that in mind or I will negotiate with your mother on swapping you for Sasuke."

"Aha, not the best idea Mrs. Uchiha." A long look complete with a delicate eyebrow raise had the blond sputtering with a red face. "Fine fine, I'm sorry Mimi. Please don't look at me like that." And he still pouted the same and no it wasn't cute.

"Like what sunflower?" Her tone was playful and the quick fingers to slide through his golden mop were painfully familiar.

"Mother, we've been here less than ten minutes and you're already terrorizing the poor boy."

"Oi! I am a man now, I know Teme takes after the beauty in the family but if he can pass for a man then you shouldn't have any issues seeing I am too."

"I'm not the Uchiha that likes to check you out when you're not looking." Itachi commented as he passed Naruto, leaving him blushing and splattering again.

"Naruto." The reaction was instant, gone was the blush and sputtering, spine perfectly straight complete with a respectful but curious gaze. It was rare that the eldest Uchiha addressed the blond and it had been forever since Naruto had been comfortable around the dark-haired family. "I do hope you are not causing your parents trouble."

"Of course not, I did manage to grow up in my time away. Hurt like hell to leave for almost three years and have only Jiraiya as company but it was worth all the long phone calls from ma." Yet another mystery and by the look in the azure eyes, a big piece to explain the inner calm where there used to be boundless energy.

"I forgot to ask, did Kushina get the recipe I sent her?"

"I think so but you'll have to ask her Mimi. They got delayed helping granny with her uh situation."

"Same rooms as last time?"

"Yup, I think the only one that doesn't have the sheets put on is Teme's. I can do that real quick if you want?" The question was directed at Sasuke but Naruto's gaze was looking somewhere over his shoulder before returning to his father. He was expecting things to be awkward but not painful like this.

"I'm sure Sasuke can manage, don't let us keep from whatever it was you were doing son."

"Ah, cleaning up everything, I knew I would need to get here a few days early but I didn't know it was this bad. Steer clear of the kitchen for now, there's a lot of manuscripts lying about and I haven't had time to clean it yet. I figured the rooms were the priority since you always go for a family dinner first thing." Naruto smiled brightly before stepping through a different door that led outside. It made Sasuke recall another memory where the blond had gushed about the house.

"Oh my God, why do I always get lost?"

"Maybe because you're a Dobe?"

"Shut it Teme! I spent all summer with Peavy Sage and like his house has more doors than walls I swear! He says it's because he doesn't want to break his creative pacing so he likes having tons of options to get out of the house."

"Sounds like more options to break into the house."

"Oi! Shut up you're such a bastard."

"You know my father."

"Ugh, add prissy to the list too."

Suddenly it felt like he didn't belong here and the young photographer couldn't stay a moment longer. Leaving his luggage halfway to the door and taking only his back pack he left to the woods. Pulling on every memory he had of Naruto describing the surrounding foliage, Sasuke actually found the waterfall that fed the lake the hyper boy always spoke of. The waterfall was loud in a soothing way, the water pure and clear in a way that couldn't be found anywhere but in nature. Lush green grass filled out the banks that lined the sides of the small lake and the pine trees slightly weighed with the melting snow. This place brought peace to Sasuke's troubled mind and immediately pulled at his artistic brain. Even though he had to keep the photos for his private portfolio, this beauty didn't deserve to be disturbed without reason.

With a smooth but careful move, Sasuke slipped his arm through the strap and unzipped his pack. From the top he retrieved his camera case and withdrew his camera. Quickly the raven secured the strap around his neck and zipped up his backpack. Checking the settings and with a few test shots, the photographer was fully in control as he captured the serene surroundings. As always, Sasuke lost himself in the beauty around him and it took spotting a sliver of blond hair to break him free. Pretending to check the photo he had taken, the young photographer carefully aimed and zoomed in on the blond. The picture Naruto made took away Sasuke’s breath as he clicked the shutter button.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare Dobe?”

“Hey I’m not the one who left his luggage for everyone else to take care of or ran out of the house instead of going out to dinner.”

“Are you going?” His voice was neutral, a complete contrast to his inner feelings. On one hand, the raven had no idea how close the blond was with the family anymore and yet it was both disappointing and relieving if the Uzumaki were to join the Uchiha dinner.

“I can’t, Pervy Sage needs my help. I might not be here when you guys get back so the spare key is-”

“‘Under the ‘speak no evil’ toad by the huge ass sliding door’ I remember.” Dutifully Sasuke kept checking his camera and carefully packing it away while ignoring the piercing blue eyes.

“Uh yeah… Cool. I’ll uh be back later. Uh if you, I mean my memory isn’t as good as yours but yanno if you and Mimi still like super spicy curry there’s a place about twenty minutes out. It’s a little hole in the wall but authentic and good portions. Don’t stay out much longer and freeze your heart any more than it is Teme.”

Left alone by the waterfall, he finally packed everything up properly and followed the footprints back, thankful the snow hadn’t melted yet. If only the same could be said about his heart, seeing the blond should not throw his emotions back in time when Sasuke wanted nothing more than to cross lines that they never would. Thankfully he only had a week, right? Maybe then he could finally let go.

Naruto was trying his hardest to not just steal the car keys and drive far far away from Tsunade as the gas tank would allow. He was already exhausted mentally due to seeing Sasuke and boy was he a sight to see. The youngest Uchiha had always favored his mother’s looks and his father in personality, after all this time though Sasuke just seemed like so much more somehow and the blond was really trying to keep his heart in his chest this time. At the very least it was only for maybe a week so he could play it safe and be fine! Totally. As if he didn’t have a hard enough time the last time, denial really suited him then and now. Absently the blond wondered where they went for dinner.

"Fine! As if I care, I'll go just to shut you up and then I can drink in peace!" Tsunade announced loudly as she emerged from her front door.

"Oi granny, tis the season and all that but we need to get a move on so I can finish cleaning the house for the Uchihas."

"Oh, is that why you really broke up with your boyfriend? I didn't know you were talking to the Uchiha brat again." Fucking hell, Naruto hoped she would be able to control her mouth when they were actually around Sasuke's family or this would be a very bad vacation.

"I'm not the one who invited them, Pervy sage started it by deciding to invite us to his cabin and mom got the bright idea to invite Mikoto which includes the whole Uchiha family. Now hurry the fuck up before I leave you, I have shit to do and I need to leave before mom makes it here." Naruto pushed himself off the car and opened the door, sliding in the driver's seat and starting the car with the slam of the door.

"Jeez give the kid a break Tsunade, this isn't anyone's ideal vacation setup. Naruto had no idea that Sasuke was coming and by what Kushina and Mikoto were loudly discussing the Uchiha boy had no clue either after being guilty in going on the vacation in the first place." Jiraiya sighed after his explanation and got in the car, leaving Tsunade to follow suit.

“Tis the season so I'll behave but you still need to give me all the details just so we're clear.” Her tone left no room for argument as she buckled in and immediately cranked the radio. Naruto took it for what it was worth and reversed the car, secretly hoping he would be able to actually talk to Sasuke when everyone returned to the cabin. Naruto really hoped no one had looked through the gift he had brought yet, the impulsive decision to bring the gift for Sasuke was starting to seem like a bad one. Shaking off the feeling, he drove his godparents back to Jiraiya’s cabin.

#narutosecretsanta2020 #sasunaru #narusasu #who put angst in my coffee #these idiots #mutual pining #part one #they all live #modern au #Fen's Plunny Corner

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sheepish-uwu · 4 years

Note

my dear, you are an absolute god at angst. could i get more of that sweet sweet doc x lion angst ,??

thank you my dear 🧡🧡 and yes, yes you may!

Doc/Lion / / roughly 2k words / / angst, hurt/comfort. / / mostly just feelings and emotions / / alternatively, you can read this on A03!!

Olivier has always struggled within the night. He wouldn’t really call himself an insomniac - or at least not compared to someone like Ryad; who’d roam the empty halls of Hereford like a ghost, running from a rampant demon that haunted his every footstep.

No, Olivier on the other hand, remained still during the precarious nights; shivering in the brisk air of his apartment despite the thickly layered bedsheets and duvet that lay bunched up around his crossed legs as he willingly allowed his rampaging thoughts to tear him apart piece by piece. Molecule by molecule. He’d always found it difficult to run away from the debilitating demons. Or at least while sober.

Olivier winced at that thought, breath hitching in his throat as a certain itch he thought he’d long gotten rid of inflamed throughout his frame, incessantly gnawing at his innards. He felt uncomfortable and constricted in his own skin; his heart pounding in his chest like a large fluttering bird trapped in a tiny cage, and he could almost hear the sound of his own blood pumping in his veins hot and heavy.

He felt trapped. Imprisoned, in his own self-loathing body he’d grown to despise, the feeling growing intangibly throughout the many years but nullified through nights of intoxication - and now he didn’t even have that crutch to ease the overbearing despair that bombarded his senses, overflowing until Olivier was just a puddle of emotional vulnerability heaving at the chest.

Olivier, after sitting up fervently in his bed, took in a deep gulp of air, hoping the cold mid-autumn air filtering through the room would ease the flaring hatred that flamed in his gut, before sputtering out the inhale as a sob slivered through his self-restraint. It unleashed a flood-gate he nearly choked on to hold back. His throat burned from his efforts of holding back stuttering breaths that could be considered almost wails, the sounds equally as pathetic.

There was movement next to him; a meek shuffling of blankets and thin sheets that momentarily distracted Olivier, anxiety bubbling in his gut turning him stiff as stone. Olivier held his breath as he watched Gustave, his beautiful tanned body dancing nimbly with each flex of his muscles as he stirred in his sleep, his features highlighted under the dim moonlight that crept through the pale curtains and blinds draping their bedroom window. An inquisitive hand jostled his forearm roughly making Olivier flinch as Gustave let out a long breathy exhale, one of the man’s many clues before he’d wake that sent Olivier in a panic mode - dreading the thought of Gustave seeing him in this state.

Luckily for him, Gustave still seemed to be teetering on the edge of consciousness, his dark eyes drowsily half-lidded as he side-eyed Olivier sleepily. “Go back to sleep,” he heard Gustave mumble quietly, voice muffled underneath the thick pillow half his face was smothered by and seemed unaffected by the raging typhoon that stormed around Olivier.

Olivier didn’t respond and made no effort to do so much as lay back down to appease his lover’s wishes, and merely gazed distractedly at Gustave - expression taut as he fought down the tight feeling that bubbled in his chest.

“Olivier?” Sheets were discarded as Gustave tentatively rose his head, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he adjusted to the darkness that drowned the room and obscured Olivier’s forlorn expression. Gustave’s features immediately shifted into concerned alarm when he saw the dread encapsulating Olivier’s eyes; a darkness where there once was vibrancy in his pale blue eyes. “I - wh - are you okay?” The confusion and uncertainty intermingling in Gustave’s worried expression made Olivier feel like a stray cat; as if approaching him would potentially scare him off - or bite.

But, little did Gustave know, Olivier didn’t have the energy to run or fight anymore.

“Yeah, o-of course,” Olivier said, the shaken whisper of his voice betraying the facade of nonchalance in his words. The edges of Gustave’s lips twitched downwards before the other French man moved, squeezing past Olivier’s frozen frame to turn on the bedside lamp atop the small table, eyes darting to the illuminating clock that read in bright-red criminalizing text: 02:42.

“How long have you been up?” Gustave murmured, shifting back until he could look Olivier in the face. Olivier frowned in dissatisfaction, his lamp casting betraying shadows among the meek light that betrayed the melancholy undoubtedly painting his pale face like a canvas. Traitor.

“Not very long,” Olivier lied quickly, momentarily averting his eyes as a wave of shame rushed over him - the feeling kicking him in the gut and making him nauseous. Another fault of his - and god, he had so many.

Lying had always come embarrassingly easy to him, the sinful nature of deception often eating him alive. He’d been trying to fix this habit, and yet it always came back to him as a pseudo-crutch that, if he was being honest, only made his self-hatred flare up even worse. He just couldn’t help it. All his life he’d learned to lie in order to selfishly suit his needs; from small things like lying about not eating his sister’s birthday cake to lying about his alcohol and drug habits he developed early on in his teens, and he’d gotten so good at it that nobody batted an eye until it all brewed up inside of him and spilled out, the eventual truth having far more dire consequences than it would have in the beginning of his lies.

“Right,” Gustave mumbled, dissatisfaction etched in his tone that made Olivier’s breath hitch, a fire-hot redness burning on his cheeks. “You say this but it looks like you haven’t slept at all.” Olivier couldn’t bring himself to reply, his mouth tingling in shame that kept his lips firmly pressed together. At a lack of response, Gustave let out a disappointed sigh, his brown eyes darting to Olivier’s hands that were twitching nervously.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” The words, spoken so softly - almost as if Gustave was speaking to himself rather than Olivier despite it being directed to him - nearly went unheard but the pain that flourished in Gustave’s trembling voice was as loud as mortar fire. “Why?” This time the words were slightly louder and sharper, the pain inhabiting the previous question versatile and lost as a fit of surging anger pierced through.

“I don’t know,” Olivier lied again. Oh, he knew. He knew how distant he tended to be to emotions, especially ones surrounding Gustave. It was just so easy to pretend like they didn’t exist. It’s all he’d ever done when he was younger, even if the path of suppression had lead to nothing but heartache. He knew explicitly the fear that held him back from truly trusting and committing to Gustave that stemmed from something much deeper than the internalized homophobia Gustave had assumed it was.

Truth be told, love was something very foreign to him. What he had with Claire was something he’d hesitate to have called love. It consisted of a plethora of emotions with most of them being negative; the rage, sorrow, and curiosity that trademarked both of their bitter teenage years bringing them together in an almost symbiotic relationship where truthfully neither party benefitted. Sure, Olivier cared about Claire, and he didn’t have any regrets about what they had, but she had never been an island of security to Olivier. She was another outlet Olivier would turn to as a distraction; the downright ridiculous and negative emotions that’d bubble up inside of him momentarily soothed by their ‘love’ he felt he was starved of.

Gustave was different though. Gustave is safety. He is warmth. He is an intricate force. Delicate, dainty, and thoughtful with an almost war-torn roughness. He is calloused hands running softly along soft bare skin, gentle and steady that leaves Olivier trembling with a desire for something more than physicality. Gustave is home. He is love.

And he is terrifying.

He’s an uncertainty that leaves Olivier speechless, fearing the worst that would come if he opens his notoriously loud obnoxious mouth. He’s never really feared losing someone like this, and it opened up a helplessness in his aching soul that remains unappeased. What if he scares Gustave away? Or, definitively far worse, what if he somehow hurts Gustave? A thought that’d have made him scoff and cackle at nearly a year ago - before he’d gotten to know his fellow countryman on a deeper emotional level. Sometimes a more morbid part of Olivier wishes he could go back to that time. It’d been easier and less stressful when he didn’t have Gustave.

Another lie.

“Come on Olivier, you know. What’s on your mind, my love?” Gustave whispers after moments of terse silence, cold steady hands snaking their way to grip Olivier’s quivering ones, the reassuring squeeze sending a wave of comfort through him that eased the almost choking grip that constricted his chest. “Please?” Olivier doesn’t miss the moisture that begins to glisten the other man’s eyes that mirrored his own, a streak of scorching wetness sliding down the noble curvature of his face that falls on the sheets underneath them as Gustave brings a hand close to him, planting tentative kisses on each knuckle.

“I just - it’s hard,” Olivier admits, the thickness clogging in his throat that’d previously prohibited him from speaking clearing up and allowing him to shakily speak the words, though his limited phrasing did little to match up to how incredibly difficult it was for him to even speak his overbearing emotions holding him back. No words in French or English could even begin to compare to the pressurizing feeling that left him suffocating in his own despair. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Gustave dismisses with another squeeze to his hand, eyes inquisitively flickering to Olivier’s downcast ones thoughtfully. “Here, let me just ah,” Gustave mumbles disconnectedly as he shifts, hesitantly bringing Olivier close to him - uncertainty radiating off the man that almost makes Olivier snicker teasingly. Gustave was not known for his spectacular ability to comfort, but the act still nonetheless makes Olivier melt against Gustave’s chest. Olivier hid his face in the crook of Gustave’s neck, relishing in the feeling of Gustave’s embrace as the man slowly wraps his arms around Olivier, sheepish hands gingerly resting on his back. “Take your time, I’m here with you. Just - promise to tell me when you’re ready.”

Olivier makes a small sound of acknowledgment that rumbles in his throat and the careful hands resting on his back move up and down in a seemingly endless cycle that locks Olivier into an abundant vortex ignorant to everything except for them. It leaves Olivier in an almost blissful state as he nearly slumps into Gustave’s body, the other man’s warm skin muffling the sound of his sniffling and trembling exhales that undoubtedly echo throughout the silent room. Gustave doesn’t try to pry anymore even when Olivier practically drenches his shoulder in tears, his deep lilting tone whispering soft reassurances into his ear that slowly aids to pacify him like soothing honey.

“Thank you.” Olivier breathes out long into the night when the intangible darkness subsides into the lucent glow of the upcoming dawn, and Gustave’s hands have long fallen by Olivier’s side, his head resting on his chest as he lets out soft snores. Olivier knows Gustave can’t hear him, and yet there’s an intangible freedom Olivier feels as he murmurs his thanks into the lonely void of night.

For once, as the bright electronic clock reads 04:54 and the room’s atmosphere is encapsulated by a riveting longing that tugs at Olivier to bring the man he loves closer to relish in the warming glow he exudes, Olivier can finally breathe easier.

#r6s #doc/lion #yonaih #ficrequest #fanfiction

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pilot-boi · 4 years

Text

Fall For Me: Chapter One

Has Jaune ever really talked about what happened the night of the Fall? Well maybe not, but he's decided the universe thinks it's time for a fall of his own.

Now if he could try not to lose everything this time, that would be fantastic.

(I dunno, this just sort of came to me. There's a dragon for reasons. And those reasons are that dragons are cool.)

The Jump

He remembered Falling. He remembered the light. And then darkness. Not this light, not this darkness, but the difference was suddenly so very, very small…

AO3 LINK

Don’t worry about it.

The grappled shivered and whined under Jaune’s fingertips as he steadied his extended arm again, blinking sweat out of his eyes. He felt the far end of the line snap into place near the top of his second pillar and tugged at it carefully. It seemed solid enough, although the occasionally dubious reliability of Atlas’s hastier designs was another thing not to think about.

But these seemed to work, so that was a relief at least.

He glanced over to where Oscar was standing guard, legs apart and staff in hand, glaring out across the plain with a look of freckled determination. So far, there hadn’t been man Grimm heading their way. Yet.

They had both seen the change in the movements of the dark figures when the first pillars had blown, as the howls of unearthly fury increased in response, but most of the activity seemed to be further away, back towards the mountainous end of the plain.

Exactly what was going on over there was… well, it was yet another thing not to think about. Jaune shook his head, as if that would push aside the shards of broken thought that snapped and stabbed across his mind, or the way his heartbeat was keeping a dread rhythm in his chest.

“You doing alright, buddy?” Oscar glanced back and the concern in his eyes felt like a punch. Jaune nodded, turning away so the boy wouldn’t see his expression. This meant he was staring down over the edge of the cliff, and he had to bite down on a fresh surge of nausea.

The canyon here was wider than below their first pillar and more uneven, as if something had torn its way up through the sheets of blackish stone from underneath, leaving a gaping wound in the rock surface, with the pillar hanging in its center like a last failed suture.

Broken ledges and splintered layers stuck out from the walls, giving the plunge into oblivion a twin pair of ragged edges. Jaune looked back up quickly, fixing his wavering attention back to the spinning brilliance above.

Right. No chickening out now.

He hit the grapple mechanism again, bracing himself for the lurch that came as the gears bit down, and it yanked him forward and upwards, shooting across the inverted sky like a very guided sort of comet. He brought his legs up, getting ready to cushion his impact against the vertical obsidian ahead.

The second roar hit when he was halfway across. This was a new sound. It still boiled with the terrible fury of before, the wounded malevolence that had poured out of every sliver of this world in a poisoned sonic tide. But this one had a new edge to it, something altogether much worse. It held triumph.

Jaune twitched, a violent shiver that wrenched him hard against his airborne pose, and rammed his gloved fingertips back into the unfortunately sensitive grapple control. Gears screeched, choking out an acrid metallic smoke as the little machine clamped to an abrupt halt, sending him jerking to and fro with aborted momentum.

As he tried to steady the swaying, as the horrible sound twisted fresh coils of whispering darkness into his mind, he turned, and he saw the dragon coming back.

Don’t worry-

The sound bore down like a tidal surge, spilling out ahead of the oncoming nightmare, and Jaune froze. He had to move, had to move, as the huge shape dove towards him, its wings scything out like their own horizon. But all he could do was clamp down, tightening his fingers around the grapple line until his gloves creaked.

Breath curdled in his throat, then broke apart in wordless yelp of disbelief as the dragon suddenly swung upwards, letting out a fresh howl. And this time there was something like pain in the sound.

Jaune saw the smaller form, highlighted against the vicious violet sparks that sprang from the creature’s skin as Ruby shot across its back and down along the jagged spine. The reaper twisted this way and that as the titanic shape rolled beneath her, dragging the flame bright blade of Crescent Rose between the scales.

Dark clouds boiled up into the air as the dragon swiveled, snapping back at the assaulting figure, and the spinning battle was so close that Jaune could see each movement with horrible clarity.

Then the crystal above him erupted in howling brilliance, and Jaune couldn’t hold back a scream. He ducked down between his own arms as the spiraling beam thundered out overhead.

Close, so close, why was he so close?! Oh gods above.

It lit up a new corona of purple fractals that snaked across the dragon’s chest, following the marks of Ruby’s frantic slices, and the oil-slick flesh drew closed beneath the too-bright beam.

Spillover magic sent freezing, electric prickles scattering across Jaune’s exposed skin, clawing at him with a much less benign effect than it had for the roaring monster overhead. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on the pain there, the real pain. But memory was swarming around him.

It surrounded him like blackened flies, and the now of it was so hard to find. The endless, hungry fall of that red-black oil beneath him seemed to drag down against him, pulling at the tiny grapple that shook and shivered on his arm. It would be so easy to fall, so easy, with the screaming incandescence blazing out overhead and oblivion reaching up to claim him back.

He remembered the light. And then darkness. Not this light, not this darkness, but the difference was suddenly so very, very small…

And then the bright beam winked out, the dragon swept past above him, and the bottom dropped out of Jaune’s tentatively hanging world as the creature’s barbed tail sliced through his line like it was little more than string. He held on tight, more through terrified instinct than any actual plan.

As the alien gravity tightened its fingers in his stomach, there were several long horrible moments of swinging weightlessness. Then he slammed into the side of the pillar with like a pendulum on a clock and he tried desperately not to throw up. Motion sickness was terrible at the best of times, and this wasn’t even close to the best of anything.

He was running out of time. The thought spun in his mind, whirling up every other attempt at coherence into its ever tightening embrace. The knight tried to feel the grapple under his shaking fingers and untangle the fragment of him that was still in the present.

Focus. Focus.

Painfully slowly, Jaune managed to raise his head up and force his eyes open, squinting up into the ominous brilliance above him. He was barely a few feet below the top of the pillar, which did make sense, when he could push aside panic long enough to think about it.

The grapple was making a strange whining noise against his arm, and the line was quivering in a way it hadn’t done before. But his grip was reasonable enough and he began to haul himself upwards.

One hand after another. If he didn’t allow anything else to exist, if he filled the whole of every second side to side with the inching repetition of climbing-

-if I lose everything-

-Then it wasn’t so bad. One step at a time. A they’d always done, when everything had seemed at its worst. Just one step at a time.

His fingers grazed the clear space on top of the pillar, just as the grapple mechanism gave a high pitched scraping sound, accompanied by the scent of burning metal, and he felt the grip of it start to give. Jaune lunged, pinning the line tight between his feet as he thrust himself upwards.

Jaune managed to get a hand clamped fully into place on the lip of the pillar before the metal teeth of the device failed entirely, falling slack against him and blood screamed in his ears. He was suddenly, silently, immensely thankful for the augmented attributes his Semblance would provide in moments of crisis.

It strengthened his hold as his extended arm shook madly, almost in time to the slam of his heartbeat. One hand’s grip away from falling.

Breath, Jaune. Oh boy...

His entire world seemed to have narrowed down to the pressure on his left wrist, and it took a remarkable effort to figure out where his other arm was. Hanging loose at his side, with the limp thread of the wire still gripped in his shaking fingers. And it took even longer to remember how to move it.

Come on man. Up you get.

He’d done worse than this. Much worse than this. Maybe not over the infernal bloody goop of the Grimmlands, but over enough icy cold water that it might as well count. Clutching Nora’s equally battered form against him, stumbling as they kept each other upright and the ground had buckled and cracked underneath them.

Or leaping from one precarious footing to another in the crumbling ruins of Beacon Initiation. With his heart in his mouth, and the dreadful depth beneath yawning its invitation.

Or clinging to fraying rope in a cursed storm, hauling his own half frozen body up the degrading rigging as Weiss shouted frantic instructions at him. Her words whipped away in an instant by the hungry winds, never to reach his ears.

In comparison, hanging by one hand from a glassy pillar, over an endless drop into literally evil primordial soup was… Well, certainly not better, but at least on some kind of horrible par. Jaune gritted his teeth and swung up, grasping desperately at air until he managed to get another point of purchase on the polished stone.

His shoulders were screaming beneath his armor but, accompanied by his own muttered litany of curses, he eventually managed to pull himself up. He lay flat for a moment, precarious still on the edge, as the slice and shimmer of the spinning crystals whirled by a few feet from his head.

Okay. Okay.

The bomb was gone. His fingers scraped at the empty space at his belt, but the awkward wedging of the explosive device hadn’t survived the last flailing moments. After a few false starts, he managed to pull himself upright.

Body shivering with tension as he tried to keep his footing against the slick stone surface beneath, he looked up through the glowing haze, very pointedly not looking down into the vertigo inducing drop just behind him. Even in the strange over magnification of this place, it was difficult to make out exactly what was happening in the battle overhead anymore.

But the bright slices of impact came again and again, behind the shadows of twisting wings.

Ruby was fighting it. Jaune reached up, jamming his fingers into his scalp and tugged at his hair until the roots stung. Memories skipped and broke open around him. Suddenly so close, so real, and he tried not to be sick again. What kind of plan was this? Ruby was fighting it now, and the sword at Jaune’s side seemed to be pulling against him, echoing a strange hollow itch down into his fingers.

The bomb was gone. He’d failed. They were out of time, and it was his fault. Again.

If he had only been faster. If he hadn’t spent so freaking long worrying. Always worrying, and what was the point of that, the point of him? He was always just too slow, and people always died.

“I’m sorry-!”

An old cry, cut off abruptly by his own whimper as the crystals flared again, hurling another dazzling spiral beam up towards the battling shapes, and nearly taking his balance entirely. He could feel his Aura straining as he had to lean into the wind of it, angry magic spillover biting into his skin, scattering his breaking thoughts.

What now, little knight? What do you have left?

The sword was so heavy at his side. He was only dimly aware of himself reaching round, of his fingers tightening into their long-habitual grip, as the world began to fade away around him. Leaving nothing but that screaming, searing pillar of twisted brilliance, inches from his face. His cheeks were wet, but right now he couldn’t remember why.

I’m sorry, guys. This was the best I could do.

Jaune swung his sword.

And there was light.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #oscar pine #pyrrha nikos #mine #my writing #fall for me #chapter 1

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winterwriter8845 · 5 years

Text

Her Second Choice

Chapter 2

When Celeste and Valentino stepped into the house, they were engulfed in the smell of burning smudging sticks and the mint that hung up on the racks in the spare room. She could hear two heartbeats above them, Emilia and Phoebe. She heard another faint heartbeat, a smaller one, a cat. The cat ran down the stairs and meowed at Celeste, unphased that she knew that Celeste wasn't human.

Celeste knelt down to the cat and rubbed her head. "Hey, Calypso. How are ya, girl?" She whispered to the small mostly black cat, and the cat responded to her by meowing and rubbing up against her. "I gotta go, girl. Give your momma all my love," she said, standing up.

Both of the vampires walked through the house and up the stairs, their footsteps having no sound. They reached the bedroom where Celeste slept as a human. In the room down the short hallway that was lined with different paintings that Phoebe had painted and drawn, Emilia and Phoebe slept in their bed, wrapped in each other's arms.

Celeste and Valentino started to pack her stuff up. Valentino grabbed only her clothes, and Celeste grabbed some of her favorite books and her laptop and slipped them into her bookbag.

Both of the vampires could hear one of the heartbeats picking up, beating faster and faster. Until they heard one of the girls wake up, panting. Emilia had woken up in a sweat, panting out Celeste's name.

"Celeste?" Emilia called.

Celeste and Valentino looked up towards the door of the room where they could Emilia's footsteps shuffling around in the other bedroom. The two looked at one another, still as statues as they were scared of how Emilia would react to Celeste being alive.

They saw the small, tiny witch walk in through the door, and she broke down in Celeste's arms. Emilia looked up at her best friend. "You're so cold... What... H-How is this possible?"

Valentino stepped up to them, sitting the duffel bag he had in his hand down on the bed. "I had been keeping tabs on her before she was ... murdered..." He sighed. "I found her before could die fully, and I turned her to save her. She pronounced dead because they couldn't find a heartbeat, but my venom was running through her veins, freezing and healing her."

Celeste clung to Emilia, and Emilia clung to Celeste, afraid that if she let go, she would disappear. She had no words right now; she couldn't comprehend anything except that her best friend was alive.

"Thank you," Emilia said, looking at Valentino. "Thank you so much. I don't have words right now."

Celeste stroked Emilia's hair, trying to soothe her crying. "It's okay. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Valentino sat down on Celeste's bed and watched the two young women for a moment. Calypso hopped up onto the bed and rubbed up against him. The cat never went to strangers, except him. He didn't want to rush them or be insensitive towards them, but they didn't have a lot of time before the sunrise. "Ladies, I don't want to rush you, but the sun is rising in about an hour."

Emilia nodded. "Yes, of course.

Valentino got up and walked over to the window and peeked outside. "Shit..."

The sun began to rise over the mountains, the golden ball of fire shining through the clouds above the blue-painted mountains that overlook the small town. Gold and orange was cast across the sky and came down to clash with the ocean that was the Blue Ridge mountains. Beams of light began to penetrate through the clouds, highlighting the edges of the cotton-like clouds.

"It seems that we're out of time," Valentino said.

Celeste looked up at him for a moment, seeing the sunrise, before getting up. She walked to stand beside him. She wanted to watch the sunrise, possibly her last for a long time. "I want to watch it rise," she said as she stood beside him, holding the curtain open so she could see.

Celeste and Valentino could hear another body stirring in the bed beside Emilia's spot. Phoebe sat up when she noticed that Emilia wasn't beside her and that there were two more figures in the room. Her eyes readjusted to the dimness of the room so she could see them more clearly. "Celeste...?" Her voice was a whisper. Her pink hair was messy with bed head, her shoulder-length hair a tangled mess on her head. Her ice blue eyes scanning Celeste to immediate changes in her: pale skin, red eyes, a bite scar on her neck. "You're a vampire?" She looked at Valentino. "You turned her."

"I had to," the male vampire answered. "I found her... and the state she was in... She wouldn't have survived. I had no choice." In his eyes, there was a look of desperation.

Phoebe sighed, looking down. "Well, I'm glad that you saved her. You realize that she's going to be in danger now because she's a vampire, right?"

"Yes, I am completely aware, sadly." He sighed.

Celeste let out a yawn, and Valentino looked down at her. The sun was draining her of her energy, and she was a zombie now. Her eyes were heavy, and she was slouched over. She leaned against Valentino without realizing it, and Val caught her and picked her up. "Can we sleep here for the night?" Val asked Emilia who was now being held by Phoebe.

"Yes, that's fine," Emilia responded. "We can put a spell on the curtains to make them opaque." She cleared Celeste's bed off for him so he could lay her down. Emilia walked over and closed the curtains as Phoebe did to the other curtains. "Adiafanís," she said with her hands raised and her palms pointed towards the curtains. The closed curtains doubled the thickness of the material, not a single sliver of sunlight coming in through the cloth material. Phoebe whispered the same Greek word, which is equivalent to the word opaque in the English language, and the curtains doubled in thickness as well.

Valentino smiled at them. "Thank you." He laid the sleepy woman down on the bed, then he took his jacket off. He crawled onto the bed beside Celeste as the bed was a queen-sized bed.

"If you need anything, we'll be downstairs," Emilia said as she wiped her face.

"Thank you," Val said to her, a slight smile on his lips. He then laid back and went to sleep, his body automatically falling into a sleep fit for the dead. Normally, he would only go into a vampiric slumber if he was home where it was safe, not when he's in a stranger's home. But he knew he could trust Emilia and Phoebe to not kill him in his sleep. He had been keeping tabs on Emilia and Phoebe around the time he was keeping them on Celeste; he wanted to make sure his mate was safe. Once he was convinced that Emilia and Phoebe were harmless to Celeste, he would rest better at night.

Emilia and Phoebe went downstairs to begin their usual day of tending to their alchemy gardens and packing up orders to be shipped. Emilia started out by going out to the garden out back and picked out some stray weeds that had started to sprout in the garden. Then she picked some rosemary, lavender, a couple of moon mushrooms, and three frost mushrooms. She brought the four items in and began to wash and dry them off.

"Can we trust him?" Phoebe asked as she scrolled through lists on the touchscreen laptop, looking through orders.

Emilia turned to face her, leaning against the counter. "Yes. I've been having dreams... visions of them..." She started to blush. "They're mates. It's a vampire and werewolf thing... Pretty much everyone except humans and witches has the instinct that someone is their mate."

Phoebe smiled and got up. She walked over to Emilia and wrapped her arms around her waist, her hands resting on her ass. "I'm your mate," she growled, kissing Emilia's neck tenderly.

Emilia chuckled and kissed Phoebe's jaw. "Yes, I know," she whispered into her girlfriend's ear, biting at her earlobe.

Phoebe started to knead Emilia's ass as if she were a cat, purring into her ear. S

Emilia smiled and kissed her on the lips. "We have work to do."

"That we do," Phoebe responded. She took her hands off of Emilia's ass and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "But later, we'll have our fun."

Emilia smiled, turning her head to kiss her lover on the jaw. They carried throughout their day: organizing the alchemical ingredients, packing them in boxes, and getting ready for shipping.

Upstairs, Celeste and Valentino slept a death's slumber. There was still so much going through Celeste's mind as she slept. She was still trying to comprehend the fact that she was a blood-drinking child of the night. She was still trying to convince herself that she could trust Valentino. She had an instinct that she could, but then again, look at how she died.

Dusk came, and Valentino was the first one to wake up. He had trained himself to wake up right as the sun went down so he could make sure he got as many tasks done as possible during the night. He carefully sat up, glancing over at soon-to-be mate, who was still asleep soundly in the spot next to him. He reached over and stroked a strand of her caramel colored hair out of her face. He then leaned down and kissed her head. "Soon, my love, you will know everything there is to know about our world." His voice was a whisper.

He rose from the bed and looked around the room for a minute, seeing where her things are and what needs to be packed. He heard Emilia and Phoebe downstairs talking about an incoming shipment of unicorn hair and phoenix feathers.

Valentino knocked on the door frame to the living room when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Hey, umm, can you help me with packing? I want her out of here before her family can come up here." He asked quietly.

"Yeah," Phoebe answered. Emilia and Phoebe walked upstairs after him. They began to pack up her things, starting with the rest of her clothes. Then Valentino began the careful process of packing her vintage books and records, along with her record player.

They had packed more of her belongings when Celeste began to stir awake. Her eyes fluttered open as she stared at the ceiling. She heard the shuffling around the room, and she looked to the side to the vampire and witches packing her things.

"Morning, Cel," Emilia said, smiling. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine. It's just weird for me to get used to sleeping during the day."

"It'll be like senior year all over again," Phoebe chuckled. "Staying up at night, studying for exams and sleeping during class."

Celeste chuckled. "Ha, yeah." She looked through her clothes to find something more comfortable. She picked out a simple thin white dress with blue horizontal stripes. She sat down on the bed, watching them for a moment. "Wait, wouldn't my parents know something was up if my stuff is missing?"

"Yes, that is true," Valentino said, exhaling through his nose as he spoke. "Then I guess we'll just have to leave everything here."

Celeste sighed. "So new beginnings."

"You'll get used to it," Valentino said, looking at her dead in the eyes. He should know; he's been alive since 1460.

She nodded then walked over to her desk. She opened her laptop and sent her drafts of her stories to herself through her email. She then shut the computer. "I need to go change." She walked to the bathroom and changed into the dress. She walked back in and slipped on her white low top converse. She then looked at Val.

"Ready to go?" He asked, looking down at the female.

"Yeah."

"Then let's go. I still have to show you how to hunt." His lips curled up into a smile as he looked at her, remembering the first time he went hunting.

Celeste smiled and nodded. Emilia and Phoebe walked up to her. "I'll come to visit you when we get a break from the shop," Emilia said, hugging her best friend.

Celeste smiled, hugging back. "Okay." She gave her best friend a squeeze around her shoulders before giving Phoebe a hug. Then she and Valentino walked out to the car and got in. They drove down Low Street then pulled out onto the main street.

"One more thing: when we get to the house, don't be freaked out by the ghosts. They hate that."

"Ghosts?" She asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

"Yep. I have quite a few that hangs around the house. Just act like they're normal people." He smiled. "They've been here for a while. Actually, some of them has been here longer than me. I moved here in the mid 1800s, and they kinda just hung around the plot of land that my house is on. So I've welcomed them with open arms and let them stay."

About thirty minutes later, they arrived at a mansion, his mansion.

It was a structure once white as ivory, faded and stained by time, yet the foundation remained sound despite its centuries of age. Its façade held near a dozen windows, each tall and narrow, with some being rounded upon their crests. Within them stood darkness.

A steeply sloped rooftop was home to shingles of earthen tones, yet some portions were flat and marked by intricately carved rails and ornamentation, while one particular corner held a domed cap atop a series of cylindrical rooms stacked atop one another.

The entryway was nestled beneath an overhang that ran near half the width of the home, with heavy steps of stone rising to meet the heavy oaken door, and above this sat a balcony bathed in sun. crept up and meandered sidelong across the building's face where one story met the next, and upon the highest third level, they continued along the circular edge.

There were a few ghosts floating around, watching the new girl at the car. There were a little girl and two men standing at the windows, watching. Celeste couldn't see the ghosts' faces or any features on how they died, but she could their shapes in the windows.

Celeste stared up at the mansion. "You call this a house? This is a mansion," she marveled at the three story mansion that was topped with a tower with a grey tiled roof. She was a huge history nerd so anything old-fashioned she loved and was marveling over.

He chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's a house to me." He stopped the car at the cobblestone walkway that leads up to the house. He walked around to her door and opened it for her. "Can you do me a favor and hand me the Michael's bags in the back seat?"

"Yeah." She leaned back into the seat and grabbed the couple of bags that were filled with art supplies. She crawled out of the seat and handed him the bags.

Valentino grabbed a large canvas from the trunk, and they walked down the rose bushes lined the walkway to the porch of the mansion. He unlocked the door and ushered her in. They were greeted by a small black French bulldog and a tall tan Afgan hound with brown ears. "Hey, babies!" Valentino smiled as he sat the bags and canvas down to greet the dogs. The dogs were wagging their tails. He played with them and rubbed their stomachs before he stood up again. "This is Astrid," he motioned to the Afgan hound who was licking his hand. "And this is Apollodorus," he motioned to the French bulldog who was scampering over to Celeste.

Celeste knelt down and started to pet the small dog. "They're adorable."

"They are. They're rescues. When I hunt humans, I hunt the criminals that are worthy of death. I saved these two from dogfighting. They've been here for two years now." He smiled. "This place is completely safe. I've had a local witches' covenant charm the place so no one can come and hurt us." He looked at her, his eyes holding a certain sadness that he doesn't want to experience again.

"Witches exist?"

"Yep. Emilia and Phoebe are witches."

"Well, then that explains why they weren't so shocked that I was a vampire."

He nodded. Celeste looked around the foyer. "This place... is absolutely... beautiful." She was breath taken.

"It is. I moved here in 1861, and my adopted sister, Joséphine, helped me with designing the house. She studied architecture, her designing skills are excellent." He smiled.

The floor was dark oak, a steel blue rug laying out the walkway through the foyer to the staircase on the other side of the room. A dome skylight topped the spiral staircase. Even though vampires didn't like the sun and that the sun burned them, it was still aesthetically pleasing to look at, and it gave a nice view of the moon when it was out.

"I'll show you to your room then. Then we can figure out getting clothes and getting you the things you need." He leads her up the stairs to the first floor. "Pick your room. My room is the first one on the right. But every other room is open."

Celeste peaked her head in the room across from Valentino's room. The room was darkly lit. She flipped the lights on to reveal a room painted in sonic silver paint. There was a bed with a silver bedspread, and a small crystal chandelier hung over the bed. Two matching end tables framed the bed in. A wardrobe and low boy dresser stood on the far side of the room, and a plasma screen tv hung on the wall across from the bed.

"I like this bedroom," she said as she walked in. She sat down on the bed as Valentino walked in.

He smiled. "It suits you." He looked around. "Later, if you want, we can go hunting. You're a fledgling, you need to hunt. I can show you how to hunt."

She nodded and smiled. "Yeah. It'll take me some time to get used to drinking from humans."

"Actually, I don't drink from humans, and I don't expect you to do it either. A lot of vampires do feed from humans, but there are some that prefer to live peaceful and inconspicuous and feed off of wild animals. But we do have to have human blood at least once a month, more when you're a fledgling like yourself."

She nodded. "Okay. Because I'm Wiccan, I normally wouldn't hurt an animal. But I hope the gods can forgive me."

"A lot of vampires are Wiccans and even Christians, and they still hunt, obviously. So I think you'll be fine." He smiled.

She smiled and nodded. She laid back down on the bed.

"I'll be back in a minute," Valentino said before he left the room for a minute. He returned with a blood bag. "Here. I assume you're thirsty. This will help you acclimate to being a vampire. When fledglings feed off of animals, they typically drink some human blood before they feed on animals. It helps them acclimate and get used to animal blood."

She nodded and started to drink from the blood bag. This time, she was careful to not spill it. She finished up, and he threw the bag away. "I'm ready to hunt," she said.

He smiled. "Then let's head out."

Her Second Chance on Wattpad

#vampire #vampire x vampire #my writing #writers on tumblr #her second choice #the dark destiny trilogy #original writing #story #original story

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kit-writes-fanfic-blog · 5 years

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Oh fuck

So this here is my first try at smut, so i hope its not too cringey! I hope you all enjoy it! CW for smut! “I thought you had left? Now, i’m trying to work and I don’t need yo-O-oh Fuck!”

“Raaaaaae”

The furious tapping on computer keys didn’t cease for even a second. “Raaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeee” The tapping stopped for a second and Finn thought this was when Rae’s eye would look up at her. The flick of textbook pages could be heard for a second and then more furious typing. “RAE!” His voice was loud in the quiet room and her head snapped up, fixing Finn with an irritated look. “What?!” Rae huffed and her typing becoming more aggressive as her brow furrowed. “I know you said you had work to do and me coming down wouldn’t change that but i honestly didn’t expect you to ignore me completely!” He pouted and crossed his arms pentutently. He’d been here for two days in Raes tiny dorm room and she’d barely said two words to him! He knew she had work to do and it was important but honestly could she not take 2 minutes out to pay attention to him? He wasn’t even allowed to play something on the turntables! Rae didn’t bother to answer, just went back to scanning through her textbook, eyes flicking back and forth. She really wasn’t meaning to ignore Finn, she just needed to get this assignment done and then all her focus could be on her hot bodied adonis of a boyfriend without interruption. Finn stood and paced around the room a bit, hoping the motion would inspire Rae to give him what he wanted. “Right!” he began to pull his jacket on “If you can’t even talk to me i’m just going to find something to do!” Rae nodded absently, she was in the middle of a brainwave that would make her writing sound more impressive and she couldn't lose it. “Have fun…” she mumbled without looking up. Finn looked around the room in disbelief and held his arms aloft for a second and then let them drop to his sides heavily before leaving and slamming the door. Rae sighed in relief and moved her attention back to her work. She loved Finn, she really did, but when he was around she couldn’t get anything done. She was drawn to him, like a magnetic pull bringing them together. Shed given him the scarbra warning about her Uni work when he’d said he was coming to her for a week. . It had only been a couple minutes before she heard the door go again, she didn’t raise her eyes from the screen in her lap but she could sense it was him, she always could wherever Finn was concerned. “I thought you had left? Now, i’m trying to work and I don’t need yo-O-oh Fuck!” Her eyes had ran away from the screen and her fingers had stilled on the keys. Before her on the desk, at the other side of the room, was Finn. He had the top of his back pressed to the wall, back arched out towards her and his legs were hiked up, feet flat against the surface of the desk, legs like mountain slopes. He was completely starkers, apart from his mismatched socks. Raes mouth dropped open and she dragged her gaze over him, eyes narrowing as they progressed. His stomach and cheeks were flushed, tinged a soft pink, freckles highlighted against the colouring. Finns hair was mussed and sticking up wildly in every direction. Dark eyes hooded, just barely allowing a glimpse of his pupils blown wide. Top teeth worrying his lower lip playfully, like a cat that had got the cream. Her eyes pulled lower, he had one hand braced against the desktop and the other was on his thigh, pulling his legs open wider, long fingers pressing red marks into his toned flesh. She followed the line of his thigh to find he was more than painfully hard, he was practically dripping. She clucked her tongue at him as her eyes locked onto his. Finns eyebrows raised in a challenge and his chin jutted out towards her. Almost of its own accord Raes laptop slipped from her grasp to lay on the bed beside her. She, herself was stoic, just staring at him. Arousal pooled in the best places and the hair on her arms stood to attention as she scrutinized him. “I’m sorry, what was it you were saying?” It was a whisper but she heard it loud and clear, Auto pilot kicked in and she swiftly found herself infront of Finn her hands up in the air trying to decide where to touch him first. His eyes sparkled in the light as he looked up through his lashes at her now she was above him, his tongue flicked out to wet his lips and Rae couldn’t help herself any longer. Her hands grasped his knees and pushed them back against his chest, she crowded him up against the wall, blocking him in with her body. She dipped her head down a fraction making to kiss him but stopped short. He unabashedly let out a long high whimper at her and stretched his neck up towards her. She gave in and touched her lips to his, just barely brushing and he tried to press up into her again but his movement was limited. “You think you can just come in here be a tease?” Her fingers flexed against his thighs, nails scraping the skin when he didn’t answer “I expect an answer when i ask you a question, Finnley.” Her voice was low and quiet, all consuming. Finns head tilted up, exposing the length of his neck in defiance. Quicker than he had time to process Rae had dragged him along the surface of the desk, his front now pressed flush into her chest and legs curling high around her waist, arms barely catching him on the desktop. Rae moved her hand to cup into his jaw, fingers curling around his throat possessively, thumb caressing over the couple days old stubble he had growing. “Well?” She tapped her fingers on his neck and waited. He swallowed thickly, his mouth simultaneously dry and salivating at the same time. After blinking up at her a couple times and flicking his tongue across his lips, he opened his mouth to answer “I-” Before he could get any further her hand shifted, fingers now curling under his chin and she pressed her thumb into his open mouth, pressing down against his tongue, holding his jaw open. “We already know how much trouble you’re in, don’t we?” Finn noted that this wasn’t a question he should answer but he keened around her thumb anyway. He curled his tongue up around the digit in his mouth and hollowed his cheeks, a slow grin worked its way onto Rae’s face and she pulled her thumb from his lips with a pop. She ducked her head again so her lips were against his earlobe “Now, are you gonna be a good lad?” He shivered at the pet name reserved for times like these only. He nodded eagerly and his fringe brushed her shoulder. Rae turned her hand yet again and ran her index finger down his neck, over his adams apple, to rest between his collar bones, she pressed her palm flat against his sternum gauging his heartbeat, finding that it had picked up slightly. Rae took a meager step back putting a sliver of space between the two, Finn’s eyes shifted to her own quickly and the desperation in them made Raes heart clench and his lip poked out in a pout Rae quickly skirted her fingers up the inside of his thighs. “Shhhh baby, I’ve got you” She soothed him lightly. Her fingers continued their way up his thighs before resting at the junction of his hips making him jerk forward some. “You know the rules, don’t you lad?” His eyes had fallen closed and he gave a small nod red splotches on his cheeks and throat appearing until Rae pinched his thigh softly and he breathed out a choppy “Ye-sss.” She tapped her fingers along his stomach and agonizingly slowly wrapped them around his dick. Finns head fell backwards, like the thread holding it up had been cut, the line of his throat on splendid display. A sob escaped his lips as Rae established just the right grip, the precum that had already slid down him creating glorious friction, he had to fight himself from bucking up into her hold. Rae took note of how tightly wound he was, like a spring coiled up and just a touch would send it flying into the air, she knew this wouldn’t last long. She settled into a familiar rhythm, taking time to observe each reaction, Heels pressing into her back when she swiped her thumb through the moisture at the head. The way his lip quivered at the end of each stroke, his arms trembled from keeping himself upright for so long. The unruly fringe sticking to the sweat on his forehead just about where his thick brows had knitted together. All of these things were not only Finns undoing but also Raes, she took great pleasure in knowing that she was the root of all these things.

She often thought back to the times where she’d have never believed that anyone could stomach her to even look at them let alone enjoy her touching them. Finn was her center, the black hole that sucked her in at her worst days to prevent the hurt and the ashes she emerged from as a rebuilt person after. A quick turn of her wrist had Finn practically howling, there were tears that had gathered at the edges of his beautifully long lashes. She leant in and began to suck a welt into his neck, just below his ear. “Is there something you need baby?” Finn whined brazenly and she guffawed lowly and laved her tongue tenderly over the bright red speckling that now adorned his throat. “You’ll have to speak up lad.” Finns eyes popped open and his hips jolted forward “pleasssseee” he murmured against her skin, hooking his chin over her shoulder. “Please what?” she asked bluntly, there was no malice in her voice, but she knew Finn needed to ask. There had been many times throughout their relationship where finn hadn’t been able to make his voice heard, to ask for what he wanted. He’d expressed that it bothered him and wanted to try to practice more, and times like these seemed like the perfect opportunities. “Please Rae” Her name sounded like a prayer on his tongue, begging to the universe to be heard “Please, can i come?” She grinned lazily and stroked him a few more times “Since you asked so nicely.” She twisted her hand again, the change of position in her wrist changed her grip and he keened high up at the ceiling breath catching in the back of his throat. “Come for me Finn.” His back arched, bowing beautifully as he came undone. She promptly curled her arm around his back as his straining arms gave out beneath him. Rae caught him easily and pulled him to rest against her chest, not minding the mess splattered up the plane of his stomach. He was all jelly like, heavy limbs hanging at his sides, head rested comfortably on Raes chest. She dropped a kiss into his hair and stroked his back gently. “Finn, you okay?” His breathing was returning to its usual pace as she wiped at his skin with a few tissues from the side of her desk. He hummed in response and turned his face into her neck, placing a kiss there “Thankyou” It was barely audible and she beamed at him. “Hold on okay.” Rae lifted his arms to wrap around her neck and then bent her knees slightly before lifting Finn from the desk and up into her arms, she strode the 4 steps to the bed and gently settled him back into the sheets. A memory of Tix from years ago flooded her brain as she carried him and she smiled, blinking back the tears that threatened to come. Rae arranged him lovingly on the bed, bending his legs up so he was in the fetal position and draped one of her spare blankets over him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and smoothed his fringe back from his face. He looked up at her sleepily and relaxed and gave her a lazy smile before shutting his eyes once more. Finn drifted off to the familiar scent of Rae and the monotonous tapping of computer keys.

#my mad fat diary #my mad fat diary fan fic #my mad fat fandom #mmfd #mmfd fanfic #rinn #rae x finn #my mad fat fanfic #smut

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bullet-prooflove · 6 years

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Law & Order SVU Fanfic: All In - Chapter Thirty

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Rafael Barba x OC

Summary: He never meant for it to happen but now he wasn’t sure he ever wanted it to stop.

Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight,Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve,Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen,Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen,Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty One, Chapter Twenty Two, Chapter Twenty Three, Chapter Twenty Four, Chapter Twenty Five, Chapter Twenty Six, Chapter Twenty Seven, Chapter Twenty Eight, Chapter Twenty Nine,

In the month that they had been apart somehow Daniel Vaughn had managed to become even more handsome. His usual rugged stubble had grown into a sophisticated goatee making him look devastatingly roguish. It gave the other man a more dangerous edge, one that Mike found himself enjoying as he took in the way that light grey t-shirt clung to the human rights lawyer’s lean form. His over washed jeans were restinglow on his hipbones, revealing a tiny sliver of smooth flesh. Mike wanted to get on his knees and, his hands lightly guiding those jeans even lower as nipped at the sensitive skin just below the line of Daniel’s pelvis. A raw heat flushed through his body as he thought of the coarse noises that would escape Daniel’s lips as his teeth grazed over that deviant spot.

He jerked his gaze up and found himself once again ensnared by captivating blue eyes of his. He’d forgotten how easy it was to get lost in this man, there was something about Daniel that just made it so god damned easy. His chocolate colored hair was swept into a side parting, pushed away from his face. Mike felt the fingers of his left hand twitch at the memory of raking his fingers through Daniel’s thick hair. He missed those days, he missed this man. His world didn’t feel right without Daniel in it.

“Mike.” Daniel greeted him, there was surprise in his voice but it was the good kind. It made Mike think that maybe he should have come around earlier. “Have you come to arrest me or is this a social call?”

There was a humorous lilt in Daniel’s voice and in that moment it felt like the past month hadn’t happened at all, that the two of them had never broken up. The left side of Daniel’s mouth curved up into that sweet, side smile of his. It was very clear that their feelings for each other hadn’t changed in the time they’d been apart, the knowledge of that made Mike’s heart soar as he gestured to the interior of Daniel’s apartment.

“I was hoping that I could come in.” Mike requested, his hands delving back into the pockets of his tan raincoat, his fingers groped for the silver ring in his right pocket. He let the metal bite into the tips of his fingers as Daniel opened the door for him to step over the threshold.

The first thing Mike noticed was the lack of suitcases alongside the door. Throughout the duration of their relationship Mike didn’t think he had ever seen the space unoccupied and it let him to conclude several things as he allowed himself to review the apartment in more detail.

Daniel’s apartment was usually impeccable, he had joked a few times that it looked barely lived in and Daniel had shrugged it off stating he was on the road all the time so he only came home to sleep and shower. It had been true, Daniel was only home for a few days before he was jetting off to another state. These days it looked more like a home than it ever had, there was clean laundry half folded on the dining room table, the TV was on with the highlights from the latest game playing at a low volume.

“You been home for a while?” Mike asked, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown as Daniel closed the door behind him.

“Yea.” Daniel responded, rubbing the back of his dark head sheepishly with his hand as he looked at Mike. “I requested a permanent placement here in New York a couple of months ago. I wanted to be around more...”

Daniel trailed off before shrugging his shoulders. The implication was there and Mike felt his mouth go dry as he considered the math. He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the ache in his chest as he spoke gruffly.

“You did it for me right?” He questioned, his green eyes flickering up to meet Daniel. “You wanted to be around more for me?”

Daniel sighed out loud before perching himself on the edge of the couch as he addressed Mike.

“We were talking about starting a family eventually.” Daniel reminded him gently. “I thought if I didn’t travel so much that it would give the both of us a more solid foundation when you decided you were ready to come out and take that step.”

It took a second for Mike to absorb that information. They had talked about Daniel’s job, about getting married and having kids. They were both at the height of their careers, Mike was still climbing the ladder but Daniel was happy with his place as a human rights attorney. Mike had never told Daniel how lonely he truly felt during the nights they spent apart but his lover had seen it somehow, he had seen that Mike needed support and that required having someone there fighting in his corner. Daniel had put himself aside and tried to invest in their future and somehow Mike had fucked it up completely.

“You never told me.” Mike murmured, sinking down into the seat besides Daniel, the weight of those words crushing down on him as he once again realized how much pressure he had been putting on his lover by not making that choice to step outside of the closet.

“It was just before we had that fight.” Daniel informed him, his fingers toying with the slender, black, leather ‘charity’ bracelet on his wrist. “They notified me I got the position a few weeks ago. I wanted to call but it didn’t seem fair considering that I was the one that wanted to take a break.”

Mike put his head in his hands, his palms rubbing at his weary features as he spoke.

“I fucked up Danny.”

Daniel shook his head, scooting closer to Mike, his elbows coming to rest upon his thighs. He dipped his head lower so that he could read the profile of his lover’s handsome features. It was tragic seeing Mike like this, he remembered how heartbroken his detective had looked when he’d told Mike he wanted to take a break. He was seeing that same expression now and he hated it, he hated that he was the cause of it once more.

“We both fucked up.” Daniel said resolutely, his right hand patting Mike’s knee tenderly. “The past few weeks without you... I hate not waking up with you.”

Mike placed his left hand on top of Daniel’s their fingers entwining as his thumb smoothed over the back of his lover’s hand.

“I don’t know what I did before you came into my life.” Mike told him, his words sincere as he met Daniel’s even gaze. “I told my father about you, he says he couldn’t ask for a better son in law.”

“Son in law?” Daniel questioned as Mike’s hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out silver Celtic wedding band he’d been carrying around with him for the past six weeks.

“Yea, I mean if you’ll have me.” Mike said with a loving smile as he held up the ring for Daniel to see. “Daniel Vaughn, would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

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writevswrong · 7 years

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NESSIAN * FANFIC * PART TWENTY TWO

Hi Hi!! Sorry for the delay everyone. Thank you again for all the kind words. It makes me so happy knowing that there are always friends/support out there.

This chapter is super long so I decided to split up the text with photos but this whole chapter is from Nesta’s POV.

There is only one more chapter left! Gah!

I hope you enjoy! :)

Nessian Part Twenty Two by L.J. LaFleur

Nesta:

He didn’t wake up. He was still—a pristine sculpture of death. Tears stained my swollen cheeks, I could barely register the movements and sounds crowding around us.

A gentle hand squeezed my shoulder. “No,” I whispered while fighting their strengthening grip. “No!” I shook off their touch, “he, he’ll wake up. He has to wake up.” My entire body shook with the aftermath of rage—of the loss of him.

I hated it—the shaking. All I do is tremble with either fury or fear. Venomous bile raced up the back of my throat. I turned to the side, expelling my guts in the war-torn field.

“Nesta?” Her honeyed voice raised above the rest, penetrating my cloud of despair.

I looked upwards, peering over my shoulder at the beauty of spring and all things sweet. Elain’s bloody hand rested on my back, her golden eyes flashed to Cassian’s limp body.

There was a deeper sadness, a knowing despair that only she could have foreseen. Part of me wanted to scream at her, to attack her for knowing and not telling me. We could have stopped this. I could have just stayed put in Velaris, it would have saved him. If I had known—I would have stayed—risking the liv…

My mind rambled with different scenarios, but he would have ended up dead either way, I realized.

By my flames or Beron’s.

That’s what she saw. A breaking of a cold heart; fallen ashes that once made wings. Yet what was worse? What she saw, when she saw it? Or blindly going into battle, not realizing it would be your last?

No, it was finding love and leaving it out of fear. It was the moment I finally had him back, when he came back for me. When I watched him sacrifice his life, when I watched him die.

Elain pulled me away with great effort—I couldn’t let him go. “It’s time,” Elain whispered softly. Her voice curled around me, smothering me with unbearable sweetness.

“Time? Time? Ti…we can’t go back. I, I can’t go forward. The burning, fire incarnate. The…What does it matter now? Wh, what future…” I was beginning to sound like Elain had in the past. In the time before we knew she was a seer. Only my words were disrupted by emotions I had never unleashed before.

I stared at him until I could no longer see. Amber tears blurred the bodies I barely recognized as his family. They crowded beside him. All crying, all unable to comfort one another as they mourned the loss of a brother.

“Ronan.”

Her words pulled me out of my trance. “Ronan?” I repeated, my voice sounded hollow—broken. I was in that head space, the one where time is merely a word instead of a countdown to your death sentence.

Nothing seemed real but I felt it. A rough tug on my consciousness; slowly piecing together what she meant.

Elain nodded, her hand tightening around mine. “It’s time to make a bargain, sister.” Her lips were moving too fast; the ringing in my ears making it more difficult to understand her. “Do you hear me, Nesta? Do you understand what we must do?”

I squinted, thinking it would somehow improve my hearing. “Ronan?” I asked again, nearly coming to a stop as we moved closer to the cauldron.

“Yes.” She replied, swiftly moving through the crowd of soldiers and ash.

“A bargain?” I glanced at the cauldron. The earth felt like it was shaking beneath me…but it wasn’t. Instead my trembling legs were going to fail me. The paralyzing anxiety and fear grew. Why must I always quiver? What purpose did it serve me—weak. I’m too weak.

“Yes.”

Panic flooded into my lungs, blocking off my airways. The thought of sinking into the deep water—the endless black waters to hell. I glanced between Cassian and my sister, between death and life and all that was in between.

This world, this was not the end. Cassian had always told me that in the next life… he would find me, that we would have more time.

But what if I found him first?

A thousand scenarios played out simultaneously and I thought I might drop from the harsh decline of adrenaline.

“Do not interact with him,” I warned her, I could hear my pulse increase in volume. Metal exploding, fire roaring—the sound was deafening with each beat.

A solemn look rushed across her face, in a blink it was gone—replaced by that of a warrior’s. “It’s not me he wants,” she acknowledged the truth I had attempted to conceal.

One more step…just one more step and we would be next to the cauldron. The closest I had been since…

“Nesta!” Eris yelled, his voice going hoarse as he continued to shout my name.

A quick glimpse back and I felt another strike of emotion in my chest. Eris’ face morphed, panic in those amber irises, crimson dripping down his mangled knee.

“We must go,” Elain urged, her hand falling from mine. She propped herself up on the edge of the cauldron, her face going white before she mustered whatever strength she had left to dip her feet in.

“Gods-damn it! MOVE!” He hurled forward, damaged knee and all. Eris collided with several soldiers while making his way towards us.

Amren glimpsed at Eris, her sharp brows pulling together as she followed his gaze. The look she gave, the conflict of emotions beneath the blood splatter.

She ran. Hopping over collapsed bodies effortlessly, her eyes locked in on us.

Elain held out her hand, “we must go—hurry.”

Amren swiftly passed Eris, his shouting finally getting the attention of the rest of the inner circle. They would soon follow, not wanting to risk anymore lives today.

“I hope you’re right,” I croaked, on the verge of hyperventilating. I gripped the edge, hoisting myself up.

“NO!” Eris had fallen, crawling his way towards us—begging for me not to go.

Amren was only several feet away. It was now or never.

I dangled my feet into the water, realizing this was necessary. No matter my fears, I had to risk it. “I love him,” the lump in my throat nearly blocking my airways; amber tears still coming in strides.

Elain sunk into the water, clasping onto the lip of the cauldron. A small smile graced her lips, “then let’s get him back.” She sucked in a deep breath, pushing herself away from the edge.

I submerged just as Amren’s fist plunged into the water. She almost had me, but her grasp wasn’t right. I could hear her swear. A string of curse words, though foreign to my ears, I knew her filthy mouth would know them well.

I paused on my decline, looking back in case this was the last time I were to see my friend again.

Amren reached in, blindly searching for us. It didn’t matter though, she was too late. In defeat, her hands went limp. Light from the surface penetrated the darkness, kissing my skin. It was the sun’s final goodbye.

With less hesitation than before, I braced myself. The dark water was colder than I remembered. For the gods-damn life of me, I didn’t think about sucking in more air when I had the chance.

Shit.

Elain looked puzzled as she studied the darkness, her head tilting slightly to the left. Her hand shot back, grabbing mine. I would have screamed if I had not been so limited on oxygen. She heaved me forward, until I was right beside her. The further we swam, the darker it became.

I would see Cassian sooner than I thought.

My eyelids drooped; I wanted to breathe so badly.

Elain jerked my arm, keeping me in this life. I glanced at my sister, the one I had spent so long protecting—and now? Well now she didn’t need me as badly as I needed her. In the last sliver of light, she turned to me, lifting a pale finger to her lips.

We stopped moving, our bodies slowly rising back towards the surface. Then the whispers started. Those damn chants from hell. Silver specks began to glow, highlighting the edges of the shadows. The dreadful darkness sung louder in excitement at our arrival.

A spark of light flickered between us, illuminating the depths of hell for only a moment. Just like our first time, we screamed. For what we saw, creatures—monsters of a world that had been long forgotten.

The whispers.

The shadows of the Euxine.

The warm glow disappeared, hiding those foreign beasts from view. I tried to recover, as did Elain, but the water surged into our lungs. I reached for her, drawing her into my arms one last time.

Another flicker of light, this time Ronan’s singing hushed the hungry shadows.

In the darkness of Prythian

Lie a king of Death

Waiting for his maiden

To give him breath

And soon he would love

And soon she would see

Their infinite abilities

Come now, closer to me

But first, you must breathe

A tiny flame pushed its way between us, only bright enough to illuminate our bodies. Elain made a face; a rational mix of horror and relief. I breathed in, sucking in the air that had bubbled around us.

We sunk further, this time not needing to move. I was sure we were trapped and being guided down to the deepest pit in the Euxine sea.

To hell’s core.

A similar flame in the distance grew brighter as we came closer. I closed my eyes, remembering the horrendous monsters I had seen the first time. Sila and Kuiril, hell’s gate keepers—that’s what Ronan had called them; he insisted they were harmless.

I peeked for only a moment, their bodies stiffened as we passed. I could practically see the scowls through their armor. Their fists clenching around the hilt of their blades.

A seed of guilt, a smidge of anxiety began to blossom from my bones. It felt like a lifetime ago since we were last here. Then another lifetime while we stayed here, as we proved whether we were worthy enough to be made fae.

I inhaled deeply, smelling the rot that had suffocated me in the beginning of my captivity. Squeezing Elain’s hand, I could feel her relax a little, a slight release of her tight shoulders.

She made it out once, I would make sure she made it out again.

As we moved closer, I shut my eyes again, waiting for the strike of Sila and Kuiril’s swords. I had betrayed them to escape--the first and only to do so. Not a sound, nor movement was made.

Releasing my held breath, my eyes fluttered open. The air bubble thinned around us, slowly breaking down as we emerged from the gates of black water.

Ronan’s back was facing us, his upper body hunched over the piano as he sung his curse. The same words that had welcomed us only a few minutes prior.

Cold chills erupted across my skin as I observed the familiar throne room. I lowered my lips to Elain’s pointed ear, “if this doesn’t work…head back to the surface.”

“I will not leave you,” she replied firmly, her face set in determination but I could see the fear lingering beneath.

I wasn’t sure how she escaped or if he simply let her go but either way, we were haunted by Ronan’s palace—by the devil himself. I would not subject her to this world again.

“You must, Elain,” I inclined my body towards her, making her focus on me instead of the somber song. “You have someone waiting back home.”

Her eyes widened in surprise—the honesty jolting her awake. Elain nodded; the corners of her lips descended.

I only hoped she knew who I was speaking of.

“Nesta, Nesta, Nesta…” Ronan’s voice deepened, more solemn than his singing. His posture stiffened into a perfect column as he sensed us.

The raven lines of fire that created his hair, his obsidian crown slightly lopsided and those long fingers. The ones that gently caressed the worn black piano keys. I remembered it all.

Even his crown, the one he had placed on my braided hair—tips of spears held together by iron and crimson jewels. He once told me the jewels contained the blood of the most wicked. A drop from every monster in Prythian.

I didn’t believe him then. A foolish girl went into the cauldron—and a queen emerged.

“Ronan,” I replied with a sinister tone. My feet remained firm on the marble flooring, I would not bow nor retreat. The trembling that once tortured me had fled at the sight of him, instead there was a different kind of fear that threatened to cut off my breathing.

Ronan lifted his long fingers, silence filling the empty hall. He hesitated at first, then ever so slowly, he turned to face us. “You came back,” the disbelief in Ronan’s voice made the thunder in my chest reappear. One strike per memory that haunted me.

“Yes,” I replied honestly, careful not to meet his eyes just yet. I had forgotten that despite being an absolute asshole at times, his looks always stunned me. That was probably the magic, a veil of flesh to cover the monster beneath.

He stepped forward, careful to keep his distance. “For me?” Ronan asked, hope and aw saturated his sultry voice.

My words failed me. Damn it. How could I still be so flustered by him? After all this time?

“We’re here to make a bargain.” Elain slid in front of me, blocking my body with hers. I clenched her soft hand so hard I thought she might scream. She snapped her head back and for the first time in our lives, she glared.

The throne room was partially carved out of black marble, lines of lightening layered throughout. Then there was a dais with two seats, all carved out of jagged lava rocks.

I swallowed hard, fighting the emotions that gnawed at the edge of my remaining sanity. I stared at the ceiling, the only burst of color in this room. Autumn colors hanging from the ceiling, forming an endless fire.

Loosening a breath, I let myself remember.

“It’s older than me, believe it or not,” the corner of his lip twitched as he studied my reaction. “Older than the sun, even. Flames that have burned in this world and the last.” Ronan’s voice lingered on the back of my neck, “beautiful is it not?”

I shook my head, shoving the memories back into the pit within. A whisper of the past brushing across the back of my neck.

This was not home—it never was, I reminded myself.

The wild tendrils circled, similar to the ones in me. I had once thought it could hear my prayers, my begging to go home so I could see my sisters again. It always took me a moment to adjust to its beauty. Pulling my eyes to the marble floor, I inhaled deeply, escaping its trance. On my exhale, I braced myself to observe him.

“A bargain?” he mumbled before biting his lower lip. Ronan shifted on his feet, the sheer size of him was massive—in muscle and height.

No doubt he was pondering why we would come back to make a deal. Why we would risk eternity in hell with the god of death when we had our freedom.

I didn’t speak, afraid I might anger him with my plea. This time I glimpsed at Elain, watching her breath even as she built up momentum.

Elain raised her chin, just as I so often did. “A life in exchange for…”

Ronan snarled, the noise bouncing off the carved stone walls. I had studied those walls for clues once, I’m sure Elain had to as well to pass a test. To live.

He was nearly fuming, I swore I could see the mist of his power draining from the tips of his hair. For a bastard—he was beautiful. His skin was not pale, somewhere in between gold and bronze.

However, it was always the eyes that caught my attention first.

His left an arctic blue with specks of silver and green. The opposite was a deep brown with an explosion of red and copper spots. His onyx-colored tunic was the usual form fitting one, unveiling every chiseled muscle.

Ronan’s face softened, his eyes flickering to where I stared. At the heart I shattered.

I stepped out from behind Elain, this was between me and him.

His jaw tightened, the muscles flickering in response. I could feel his anger radiating off of him, but I also felt the passion—the love it had taken years for him to admit.

“A thief is in no place to make a bargain,” he exhaled, releasing the pain I had caused, “especially one that requires the release of a soul.” Ronan retreated back to the piano, dragging his finger along the keys, distinctly pressing them to distract himself.

Releasing a soul was easy and after the day that I was having, after seeing Cassian…I couldn’t stop the sarcastic words from leaving my lips. “It’s a river of souls, Ronan. Must you be so dramatic?”

“Dramatic?” He laughed, lifting his finger from the keys, his humor dying as he took in my appearance. “What happened to you?” Those eyes scanned over every inch of me.

When we first met, it made me uncomfortable—furious. And now? Well now it was just a reminder of our time together. I didn’t want the reminder. I wanted to forget—I wanted to avoid and bury every feeling and moment that was shared.

“You were watching,” I muttered, layering my tone with as much ice I could muster. Then I saw it, the same expression I had witnessed all those years ago. “You always do,” my voice softened. Staring at the drenched boots Cassian had given me, I felt myself crack, “war.”

Ronan had crossed the room in seconds, reaching for my hand but Elain stepped between us. His eyebrow raised as he glanced to her—I think he was more surprised than anything.

“It’s okay, Elain,” I encouraged her to move to the side but she stood as still as the underworld��s guardians. My voice tightened, adjusting my head to the side, “Elain…”

She swiftly moved, placing herself behind Ronan’s back—out of view.

“Are you alright?” Ronan asked softly, he only spoke to me this way—in private moments, away from walls that listened.

I couldn’t answer him, my lower lip beginning to quiver as I thought back to the look of horror on Cassian’s face while his wings burned. A tear formed, curling down my cheek—I hurriedly wiped it away before he could.

His hushed tone creating a new round of gooseflesh. “I want to hear you say it,” Ronan whispered, leaving barely any space between us. A light caress then a sudden warmth as his knuckles touched mine.

I hadn’t seen him move closer, I didn’t know… His powerful scent struck me then, a mix of honey and dying embers. Ronan’s hand wrapped around mine, a flare of heat rushed through me.

Cassian. Eris. Their names clawed me out of his potent aroma. His trap.

“Say what?” I asked coldly, stepping back to be encased by the frigid air of death’s lair. It was better this way. Safer.

Ronan rubbed his clean-shaven chin, waves of irritation radiated off of his shoulders. “That you love him,” he growled, staring at his empty hand.

“Why?” I pushed, glancing at Elain to signal to her. She was already making her move towards the far side of the throne room—staying out of the corner of his eyes.

Elain tiptoed to the silver river that snaked through the palace. A river of souls who still needed to pass over, that needed to be sorted and guided to a new home.

A job that I did not take lightly.

Ronan enclosed the minimal space between us again. My body feeling tight all over as he raised his now frigid hand to my chin and lifted. He could always control his temperature, it was easily linked to his moods. Ronan studied the tears that had fallen, the radiating heartache that surged out of my chest.

A flicker of recognition, a pain he once—still, felt. “You stole from me,” Ronan hissed, his contained emotions releasing. Shadows danced off his crown, his different colored eyes burning into mine.

So, he definitely was not over my escape. His freezing hand dropped from my chin, talons sliding out of his skin. I wonder if he’s used to it—used to the searing pain of his flesh ripping. I know I wasn’t.

“You gave it to me. A gift.”

“My heart was not a gift,” he seethed, the shadows increased—membranous wings grew out of his back.

Shoulders back, chin raised—I would not let him see the unending fear he caused. I replied smoothly. “I gave it back, did I not?”

Ronan shook his head in disbelief, “not all of it.”

I could feel his lingering shadows graze against my tunic. Once it was a comfort, it was beautiful but now…

“It was the only way home,” I barked. We were losing time, we needed to get back before it was too late. This was the not the time to dispute lover quarrels that happened in a time that did not exist outside of this palace.

“This was your home!” he roared, his patience thinning as he realized I was not here for him—nor would I stay. “You were my queen, Nesta.”

“No,” I corrected him, letting the undeniable wrath seep out of my pores. “This,” I raised my hand to encompass the entire room, “was always your home, not mine. You wanted me to be more than a queen. You wanted me to be a slave to this life. To suffer beside you for eternity. How could you…?” I stopped, attempting to get my emotions under control again.

Whatever I said stunned him, paralyzing his rage if only for a moment.

His voice thick with emotion that I had only heard once before, “what was so bad about this life, Nesta?” When I didn’t answer, he pushed, “tell me—I at least deserve that.”

“My family—my sisters. I would have never seen them again except in death. The loneliness would have eaten me alive, Ronan. Never seeing the sun, never truly living. It was a death sentence and you knew that. Yet you still expected me to stay. To love.” My voice sounded far away, breaking on several words as more tears developed. I swore at my tears—traitorous beads of amber.

How could I say that I had found love before him? And after? What was I to say?

Ronan’s wings and talons disappeared. The shadows that encased him sunk back into his chest.

After a long moment of silence, he parted his lips. “It wasn’t always miserable, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.” I didn’t lie as I felt the memories thrash through me. There were moments—fragments in time with him that didn’t butcher my heart and soul.

Ronan tilted his head, digging through my soul to see the truth. “Do you love him?” He asked with little to no emotion.

“I do,” I confessed, dropping my guard so he could search my soul. The heart in my chest, the one I felt shatter on the battlefield was hit with another strike of lightening. Flustered, I studied the seats on the throne.

A searing pain bringing me back to life. It took a moment, but I finally looked at him. At the man—the god—that I didn’t love enough to stay. At the god who didn’t love me enough to come after me.

He found what he was looking for. The burning in his eyes dimmed as he drew his brows together. “Give back the missing piece then.” His terms, but what about Cassian’s soul. Would he still give me that after all I’ve done to him?

“And how am I supposed to do that?” I asked cautiously, peering up at him.

The muscles in his jaw flickered again, an inner conflict unleashing itself on his soul. “It’s still inside you,” he finally replied, staring at my heart, “the piece you devoured.”

“Is that why I’m a Gryphon?” I asked, glancing around his shoulder to see Elain still sorting through a river of souls—I only hoped she would find him sooner than later. I knew I could only hold Ronan off for so long before he figured it out—if he hadn’t already.

Snapping his fingers, he murmured, “not exactly.” A silver goblet appearing in his hands, he took a long sip. He was avoiding my question—this is what he always did when conversations became too difficult. Apparently old habits never die.

My eyes turned to slits as I watched him take a hearty sip. “You cursed me?” Before leaving, before fighting my way out of hell—I took a drink from that same goblet.

Dysis.

She had given me the goblet. I, I drank without thinking…

This made him stop. Another snap of his fingers and the silver cup was gone. However, that recognition—the same one that boiled my blood—ended.

“I loved you,” he breathed, wiping the tears that had trickled down my cheek. “You would have broken my curse, you would have given me more than the life I have lived for thousands of years.” His eyes flickered to my stomach, “a family.”

After today’s turn of events, I wasn’t surprised that this came full circle back to him. “I was never the one who could break the curse. You knew that the moment you studied my soul. Don’t act—”

Ronan’s shadows were back, this time tendrils of darkness circled around us. “You were! It was you and—”

“There was always a piece of me that loved him, Ronan. You needed a pure heart. One that was free of love. That was the cure, not me. For the love of…Dysis knew. She was the one who told me, who freed me. Don’t be so daft.”

I wouldn’t have known, not from how still his body remained, but he was calculating every word and moment that took place between us. The light in his eyes dimmed, coils of darkness circling around his colorful irises.

“Did she not tell you?” I uttered, “that it was she who helped me escape?” I watched as my unveiling tore him apart. As the truth finally breached the lies he had been told. I was sure Dysis was around, lurking behind a column, listening in as she always did.

Through a crack in the shadows, I saw Elain drag out Cassian’s soul, it was him—muted in gray until he saw me. Shock illuminated his features, his lips opening but no words able to come out. Cassian’s color changing to that of a garnet gemstone.

I returned my attention to Ronan. Studying the shattered god before me, the god of death who only knew misery. There was a part of me that loved him, despite the devilish bastard he could be. But it felt like ages ago, like the dying embers of our fire were finally being smothered. “You loved the idea of me, that’s all,” I could see my razor-sharp tongue slice the remaining piece of his heart in two.

Ronan’s nostrils flared, “the idea? If you had told me—” his head whipped around.

The crowding darkness dropped to the ground, unveiling Elain and Cassian. They were halfway to the black water, to the gates that separated this world and the next.

“You dare steal from me, Elain? After all I’ve given you??” His thunderous voice echoed across the marble throne room. Ronan disappeared in shadows only to reappear beside her.

Running towards them, I screamed, “Ronan!”

Elain squirmed, trying to break free from Ronan’s grasp. She glanced from me to him then to me, mouthing an apology.

“Let her go,” I snarled, fire building in my hand, circling in my chest—waiting to be unleashed. I would do it. Despite our history, despite everything we had been through…

Ronan loosened his grip, he looked saddened, like his only friends had betrayed him. And we had. His tone darkened as he observed Cassian’s soul, “it would be him.”

Elain stammered, “wh, what is that supposed to mean?”

His humorless laugh haunted me. “I’m the god of death—but Cassian Luthais, he’s a descendant of the god of war. I knew Sacar would come back to bite me.”

Cassian looked between Ronan and me, his eyes narrowing. No doubt calculating his next move…whether he was just a soul or in Illyrian form—he was a fighter. A damn good one.

“Let go, Ronan,” Elain’s voice steeled, the enchantress of spring turning vicious.

A wicked smile brushed across his lips, “it was only a matter of time until you turned into your sisters, Elain. No one could be pure forever.”

“What do you want?” I asked carefully, realizing my options of an escape were limited, “in exchange for his soul?”

“You.” Those piercing eyes observed me, waiting.

“No,” Elain echoed. Cassian, however, still unable to form words, made an attempt to attack Ronan.

A burst of white light blinded us momentarily. Cassian slumped back on Elain’s shoulder.

Elain edged Cassian away from her shoulder, providing room for me to grab him. What was she doing? Why? Why? I racked my brain with options.

“What if I gave the gift back?” She asked, her posture adjusting, the slight quivering of her lips pausing.

Ronan’s smile disappeared, his focus on Elain. “Which one?” he grumbled, his obsidian waves masking part of his face as he turned to look down at her.

“My seer ability. You once said it was your greatest treasure besides company. So, so take it back and let us go.”

Ronan studied Elain’s face, waiting to catch a sign of deception but my sister didn’t lie. It wasn’t in her nature to.

Elain didn’t glance at us, instead she flicked her pinky out, a sign towards the gates. She wanted us to run. Like hell.

When I didn’t follow her orders, she used her whole hand to try and shoo us. I couldn’t leave her here, not with Ronan. Eons of solitude except for his company, no natural sunlight or the ability to garden.

“If that is what you wish, Elain.” Ronan looked solemn, one more pause that it was okay to take it back.

Elain nodded, “I know the consequences.”

“No…you do not.”

Before I could move or speak, his hand covered her eyes, a burst of shadows sinking into her eyes—she screamed. A horrific scream that did not stop until he removed his hand.

I snarled, pulling Cassian with one hand while reaching for Elain with the other. “You bastard! What did you do to her?”

Ronan’s lips parted, as if he were to say something but he closed his jaw.

She pushed me away, hyperventilating and terrified—still pushing me towards the gates as she sunk to her knees. Her free hand finding the floor to steady herself.

“Elain, elain?” I urged her upwards but she wouldn’t get up, she wouldn’t move. I held her cheek, forcing her to look at me. I instantly gasped. Irises once golden, filled with drops of sunlight, were now covered with a milky film. A bit of shadows swirling beneath. A floodgate of tears and snot; her world was forever changed. Because of me.

Cassian held onto Elain as I spun around to Ronan. Fire dancing from palm to palm.

“You monster,” I snapped, watching as his face crumbled, “she did nothing to you.” I raised my hands, I would kill him. I would do it.

“Aye,” he agreed, there was a slight accent to his word—one that would only unveil with great stress. “She did nothing but she was willing to sacrifice her abilities to save you.” Ronan made a move to help Elain up but I sent a blast of fire, cutting off his line of movement.

I didn’t know what to say, this was my fault—my doing. I shouldn’t have come with Elain. I should have done this myself. I should have stayed here to begin with.

Ronan made no attempt to help my sister again, instead he stood like a statue regarding me. “Your emotions are always plastered on your face, dear Nesta. Was my training not enough?” He asked, switching subjects so the despair wouldn’t kill me.

“Can we go?” I asked, barely recognizing my own voice. I glanced at Elain and Cassian. His movement was slow, so incredibly delayed in wrapping his arm around her. No wonder he didn’t fight, he could barely move without assistance. A trap within this underworld, to keep the souls from leaving or harming others.

Ronan nodded, his face tilting back to look at the endless fire in the ceiling. He released a held breath, I watched for only a brief moment before realizing it wasn’t a trap.

One arm around Elain and Cassian and we hurried towards the exit. We would have to swim back through the sea of whispers—damn creatures of death.

“It’s going to be alright, Elain. I promise. I…I’m sorry.” My voice colder than before, like a piece of me had been torn away. All my senses felt different, blurry and distant. I stopped, recognizing the inner absence. I made Cassian and Elain link arms, whispering to them to stay put.

“What did you take?” I faltered, searching within myself but I knew.

“A heart for a heart.”

There was always a layer, a missing piece so to speak. He had warned me to always ask questions. Words are far more dangerous than any steel blade.

“You stole a piece of my heart?” I asked bewildered. How? When? Too many questions—this was wasting time. “What will happen to me?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” I seethed, clenching my palms into fists as my talons pricked through my fingertips.

Ronan didn’t look at me, his attention now on the circling flames in the ceiling. “I’m the god of death, not truth.”

I bit my lip, striking blood. “What will happen to me?” I asked again, this time losing patience.

“You will have to wait and see.”

I couldn’t breathe, move. Nothing. He would torture me until the day I died, my punishment for leaving him.

It felt like the sand from my hour glass finally slipped away. The glass shattering, the sand dispersing across the floor.

I lifted my palm to my chest, unable to feel a heartbeat at all. The talons receded, followed by my dancing flames. I could see Cassian out of the corner of my eye charging forward, barely making three steps by the time Elain appeared between Ronan and I.

She opened her hand, a ring of shadows unveiling Truth Teller. No one had a chance to react as she plummeted the obsidian blade into Ronan’s chest.

He dropped to the ground, eyes wide, a trail of onyx blood leaking out of his wound and eventually his mouth.

I reached towards him, completely mute as I watched him hit the floor.

Elain didn’t let go of the dagger, instead she carved a hole in his chest, ripping out a piece of his heart—my heart. She held the deadly point to his throat as her other hand raised where she thought I stood. “I may not be able to see but the Truth Teller strikes true. Now release us.”

Ronan gave me one last look, “you…” he coughed up what looked to be tar, “you have my word. Your return will be, be safe. Your heart res, restored.” A tear escaped him, “I’m…” his words shook with every breath. “I’m sorry, Nesta.” He winced as Elain pressed the dagger into his throat. “I’m sor, sorry…” he swallowed hard, careful to not let the sharp tip prick his skin, “for not fighting for you.”

The look in his eyes, the love that remained despite all we had done to one another. I was sorry to have turned a viscous beast into something good and pure—only to rip that away from him. But it shouldn’t have been me to change him, for better or worse, that was on him. However, it didn’t change my feelings or the past.

I dragged Elain away, guiding us towards the water of darkness—our portal home. She shoved the tar covered organ into my chest. A surge of emotions, the brilliance of colors--clearer, everything became in focus again.

Elain’s lips formed a broken smile, “let’s go home.”

“Ronan?” I called to him, my voice hoarse from the day’s events.

He didn’t move, despite for lifting a bloodied hand to his heart and releasing the shadows to heal himself.

“I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, pushing through the gates before it was too late.

Gasping for air, we made it. The scene hadn’t changed, time had been different in the cauldron. What was seconds on the surface could be minutes—years in the underworld.

Amren swore, her limbs moving quickly as she pulled us from the water. We hit the ground hard and out of breath. Fumbling to my feet, I raced back to Cassian’s body. His soul fit in the palm of my hand; a glowing crimson orb.

My lungs burned, the growing aches making themselves known. Ashes stuck to my wet soles, I was a different color by the time I had reached him. But there was hope.

“Move, move,” I muttered at the inner circle, pushing through Azriel and Rhysand.

Azriel disappeared into a puff of mist, reappearing besides Elain. He cupped her face, locking his fingers within the wild strands of her hair. She held the Truth Teller in one hand, but the other held onto his bandaged wrist.

Elain nodded as Azriel spoke feverously; within seconds they had vanished.

Mor, Rhysand and Feyre stood, giving me room to kneel beside him. One breath and I slammed the orb into Cassian’s chest.

“In this world and the next…” I repeated his words, the promise he made many months ago.

I thought there would be a gust of wind or a burst of light—something. Instead nothing. Nothing happened. Cassian’s soul disappeared into his body but otherwise there was no change. His natural color did not return, nor did his torso move with breath.

“Wh, why is nothing happening?” I sputtered, clutching onto his scaled armor. He laid there, just as he had before I went into the cauldron. Before we retrieved his soul, before we faced a forgotten god—the king of the underworld. I stared in disbelief, “it should have worked—why isn’t it working?” I demanded as the sobs finally released from my chest.

But no one answered.

I stared at their somber faces, at the fallen tears—at their hollow eyes. “Why isn’t it working?!” I shouted at them. My brain racking with possibilities. Did I miss something? Did he need more than just his soul?? Would Ronan do this to me? Would this be his revenge after all?

“It’s too late, Nesta,” Feyre cried, her hands finding mine as she kneeled across from me.

I shook my head, “no,” I refused. This was not the end—it was not our ending. “Bring. Him. Back.” The same ancient ice, that murderous chill seized my voice. “Like you did Rhysand…” I begged, staring at the sister I had once betrayed, “please…bring him back.”

Feyre glanced at Rhysand, the lump in her throat smothering her words.

Rhysand took a knee beside me, his cosmic eyes lining with silver. “It’s not that simple, Nesta. There are not enough High Lords here. To bring me back it took everyone—it took every High Lady and Lord. I’m,” his voice cracked, “I’m sorry.”

I stared at Cassian, still refusing to accept their words—their apologies. “No,” I finally spoke. “What, what do I do?” I searched Rhysand’s face, searching for a clue.

“Like this…” Feyre interjected, closing her eyes as she formed a seed of her essence. It fit in the palm of her hand, like Cassian’s soul had fit in mine in this world. “But it might not work, do you understand Nesta? You need to be prepared if it doesn’t work.”

“We are not the same, Feyre.” I studied the rejection on her face, I didn’t mean it that way. “You were made by the Lords of this world.” I swallowed the building sob, forcing it back down. “I was made by the cauldron, by Ronan.” I closed my eyes, searching…

Fire and ice roped around my skin, draining out of me—everything pouring into the palm of my hands. It was then I knew that this would be my last breath, that I took everything—every ounce of my soul to bring him back. A sacrifice I would gladly make again and again.

“No,” Eris tightly gripped my wrists, stopping me from pushing my light into Cassian.

I opened my eyes, blinking away the amber tears until he was in focus.

Covered in crimson and soot, he gently caressed my skin with his thumbs. “I will not lose you too,” he murmured before focusing on the fiery orb in my hands.

I didn’t speak, instead I watched him dig his fingers into my seed of fire. Sweat dripped down his temples, cleaning the pathway of blood and ash. Once his fingers were latched on, he began to scream—splitting the fire in two. The veins in his neck popped out as the pain riled through him.

I felt it too. The split of power as he ripped me apart. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted, only that the pain reverberated against every bone and muscle within.

“Eris…” I begged my friend, the pain forcing the darkness to invade my sight. My body wobbled as I tried to stay upright. “Save him,” I begged, repeating those two words over and over until I saw nothing.

Until darkness dragged me under.

“Save him…”

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