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chaos-burst · 4 years

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questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

#cadwulf #blumengrove #caduceus clay #critfic #critical role #eodwulf #cr spoilers #fanfiction #caduceus #text #screeching into the void #this got a bit out of hand #but i just wanted to get some stuff out of my system

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genshinwriter111 · 3 years

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Diluc X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Death, Swearing, Injury, Bone-breaking, Mentions of self hate

Probably goes against canon but what do I care?

Gender Neutral (They/Them, You/Yours)

It had been a long month for the winery owner. Diluc had returned home, hoping to just get some quiet. That’s all he wanted, at least an hour. Just a bit of time to calm down from the weeks of nothing but work, fighting and stress. By some luck, the abyss had picked up its work at the same time many orders had come in, and other things had been sabotaged.

Fate had other plans, because just as he walked inside, you rushed over to him, with a worried look in your eyes. “Diluc! Are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down, checking for injuries. “I’m fine, (Name). But would you leave me alone, just for an hour? I need a break.” He asked, seeming exhautsed.

“Absolutely not! You were gone for a month, wirh zero contact to anyone but the staff. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” You snapped back in retort. You couldn’t help it, he’d left with no warning and didn’t bother even sending a letter, or leaving a note? If it wasn’t for the staff telling you otherwise, you would’ve thought he died in a battle.

“(Name). I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I just need one hour. Then you can worry all you want.” Diluc said, his eyes narrowing, growing frustrated. You didn’t seem to notice, and continued pestering him. It took just a few more pushes, before he finally snapped.

Diluc’s tone was harsh, and held clear irritation. He massaged his forehead, aggravated. “Are you unable to understand I don’t want to be around you right now? It would’ve just been an hour, but I need a break. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he turned, leaving the main room. You yourself were angry, and tried to be as caring as possible towards him, and he took that for granted. (At least in your eyes, he did.)

You felt like it was maybe a decision made in anger, but you walked out. You decided that if he was going to hurt you like this, you would hurt him in return. Not directly, no. From afar, by supporting the one thing he hated the most in life. The Abyss. You’ll work to help their plans from the sidelines.

It was a long time later, maybe a few months. You didn’t know exactly, you hadn’t even returned to the city, unless it was for an attack. It was an odd encounter when you accidentally ran into an abyss mage, and they assumed you would attack. When you explained the situation, it seemed pleased. It had reported back to the others, and you were now regarded as an ally. You were thriving, especially knowing this was revenge on him. He had shoved you aside like you were disposable, (which wasn’t true, but that’s how you saw it.) and you were angry.

On the other hand, Diluc, was distraught. None of the maids knew where you’d gone, you hadn’t said a word, just like he did. He hoped that you were just busy, commissions, work from the knights, helping the traveller, anything other than being dead. He could never guess what you had done, he would never assume something like that of you. He’d tried by the knights, and only doubted them more. The adventurer’s guild hadn’t seen you either in monstadt nor liyue. He’d even asked the traveller, and got nothing.

It was as if, you had disappeared. He didn’t want to think you were dead. He didn’t want to think it was anything like that. Maybe you were avoiding him, seeing as that fight was pretty rough and maybe he had been too harsh..Wait..

“The abyss! They..they could’ve taken them...I should never have let my guard down, what have I done...” Diluc yelled out to nobody in particular, as he was alone in the manor. “They probably think I hate them..” He muttered, and despite swearing he wouldn’t let himself cry again. A tear fell, and then another, and then he was sobbing into his hands. He didn’t want to lose you. But, he was sure by now, you would never forgive him. He hadn’t even assumed you would be taken by the abyss, and now he was furious. He didn’t know the truth. He didn’t know you were apart of the group he hated the most.

An abyss mage warned you that he was looking for you, as others had been interrogated. You nodded in thanks to them, grabbing your weapon and donning the mask you had wood crafted to conceal your identity. You had dyed your hair with fruits, and your armour mostly concealed your body. As far as you were aware, he wouldn’t recognise you. The one thing you forgot, was the necklace he had given you a long time back. You had been used to wearing it normally, and hadn’t taken it off. Thankfully, it was tucked behind your armour.

The day shortly arrived when you crossed paths. He didn’t have time to ask questions before you attacked. You weren’t going to kill him, as angry as you were you couldn’t go that far. It may seem selfish, one fight and you decided to leave. But it had been many fights, many time he’s come home late, and forgotten anniversaries. All of that combined with him practically abandoning you, had caused you to break. You had tried being understanding, but that all vanished when he practically told you to fuck off.

Diluc didn’t know how bad it had hurt you, as far as he was aware, you weren’t affected. He couldn’t let his mind distract him. He had to focus on his opponent, which was a tricky one. It was as if they knew his attack patterns by heart..Well, that was the truth. “Where are they?!” His voice rang out over the battlefield, which was really just a small area of the woods. He wanted to use his elemental abilities, but something deep inside told him not to.

You hadn’t replied, only with a laugh that was sarcastic, and a shake of your head. Why did that laugh sound so familiair...It couldn’t be! Could it...? He didn’t have time to make up his mind, as his opponent missed a defence, and his claymore slit across their chest, shredding the armour and cutting deep, just barely missing any vital organs. A crack could be heard and you were sure something was shattered. The necklace could also be seen, and it loosely hanged as you brought your hands up to cover the injury, and stop the bleeding. As the blade had hit, your scream ripped through the area. You were sobbing, and in agony. It felt like you were dying, and perhaps..maybe you were.

Diluc’s eyes narrowed, noticing the necklace. “I’ll ask one last time. Where. Is. (Name)? You have their necklace, you’ve encountered them.” His voice was cold, and his blade was still ready. His elemental burst was also ready, he wasn’t taking any chances. “I won’t hesitate to kill you if you lie, or stay silent.” He approached closer, lowering the blade to your neck. You stared at him through the mask, before your hand shot up and ripped it off. “Me! Damnit Diluc, it’s me..” You sobbed out again, grasping the wound with both hands again.

Diluc stared. The claymore still held in his hands, before he tossed it to the side. “(Name)...I..I’m sorry..Were you forced to do this?! When did they take you..?” His voice was cracking, and all his self-respect and tough act disappeared. “They didn’t..I joined them.” You confessed, still staring into his eyes.

“Why would you-“ He almost yelled, before you yelled in return. “Because of you! I was sick of being treated like shit, and being ignored. Y-You would work and work and completely ignore me! I was sick of it.” He was silent, staring, and blinking. He couldn’t be mad at you, this was his fault. “And then when you decided to leave for an entire month, then shove me off like I meant nothing?! I was fucking done.”

Diluc dropped down next to you, he knew he didn’t have enough time to get you back to Monstadt, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He picked you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest. He wasn’t upset at you, he couldn’t be. He caused this. He was at fault. He didn’t know why you would put yourself in such danger, just to get back to him. “Please..hold on. I swear I’ll-“ You cut him off by bringing your hand to his cheek, wiping the blood and tears from his eyes. “Forgive me, Diluc, but it’s too late. Don’t be mad at yourself, I love you..” You coughed out, knowing your time was coming.

Your hand fell, and body grew cold. He froze. He couldn’t move, only holding you closer. He dropped to his knees, sobbing, and cursing himself. Muttering things of ‘this is my fault’ ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at them..’ and the like. He couldn’t believe this was reality, he didn’t want it to be. He couldn’t move. He was compeletely frozen. He knew he never said it enough, and it was too late now, but he said it anyway. “(Name)..I love you too.”

Diluc never did forgive himself. And he surounded himself with more work than before. He didn’t find love again, not after knowing he killed the person he considered the love of his life. The person he would be with forever.

~Bonus Ending that isn’t canon to this fic~

“Diluc...Diluc!” Your voice woke him up, he was out in the gardens and you were standing in front of him. He stared at you, you being uninjured and well, not dead. “Are you okay?! You were crying! Was it a nightmare?” You asked, sitting beside him. “I made you something as an apology. I should’ve let you take a break. Could you forgive me?” You passed the small treat over to him, and he took it, eyes never leaving you.

“Thank you, (Name). And I should apologise, how about I take the next month off? We can spend it together, how does that sound?” He offered, with a small smile. “That would be great! There’s this one super pretty area we could go to and..” He listened to your rambling, with this peaceful look. He would do anything to make sure that nightmare wasn’t a reality. “Let us go inside, shall we?” He calmly said, keeping his composure. You nodded with a smile. The two of you stood, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

“Yes..?”

“I love you. A lot. And I never want to lose you.”

#diluc x reader #diluc #x reader #angst #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #blood #death #angst with no comfort

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quietlyimplode · 3 years

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So from the last lot of prompt lists (feel free) @agentsofpuppies ask for a Clint/Nat fic with “do you know where you are?” And then @natasha-romanoff-deserved-better and I were talking on how Natasha is only human and has human reactions to pain, but doesn’t necessarily want or like others seeing that. Soo then that became this.

Warnings for blood, discussion of injury and vomiting. This is also cross posted here with all my other drabbles and one shots.

“Do you know where you are?” Clint looks at the bruise blossoming above Natasha’s eye, redness running under her eye, and over her cheek.

Her usual perfectly styled hair, has bits pulled out; there’s hair on Natasha’s shoulder and he shudders at the pain of hair being ripped from her skull.

Her lip is split, and there’s specks of blood on her top but he’s not sure whether it’s her blood or whoever she was fighting. It’s the second time he’s asked her with no answer.

She’s still breathing heavily, sucking in breaths and blowing them out in a measured fashion, he assumes just like she’s been taught long ago. He crouches in front of her, she’s sitting on top of the flower bed, as though waiting for something, no eye contact as she focusses in on herself.

Her bare arms are wrapped around herself but in a way that makes her look cold, if it weren’t for the split knuckles and bruises that litter them.

“Natasha.” He says again, almost harshly this time. It makes her startle and pitch forward. He goes to catch her as she pushes him away. Too close, he thinks, as he moves from squatting in front of her to sitting next to her. Some movement at least is better than no movement, he thinks as she adjusts her arms back around herself.

He sees the fight play out in his head, whoever she fought must be good, to take her on and escape, leaving her… like this. And whilst he knows how good Natasha is at taking a punch, he knows this stoic face is hiding so much pain. Otherwise she’d play it off as nothing, she’d be talking and walking with him.

He’s seen her do this before, break down the pain and completely compartmentalise it. It takes time. The more it hurts the longer it takes.

He hates it.

He wishes she just share it with him, let him help.

From the outlook she doesn’t look too beaten up, black eye, bruised arm and split lip. She turns her head to face him, and it’s only when she’s standing he sees her dress is ripped and leg is grazed.

“He got away.” She tells him, not meeting his eyes, he feels like he reads shame on her face, but he can’t be quite sure as she turns away from him again. He does notice that she’s got her breath under control and that she’s not working so hard to maintain composure.

“What happened?” He asks, feeling like she’s in a better place.

Natasha moves to the garden bed nearby, to retrieve her shoe, and then takes the other off. It’s almost like she forgets her hurts as she bends over, stands up and then sways.

“I lost.” She says with a huff and walks off towards the car that Clint arrived in.

“It’s ok to lose a fight, Natasha,” he tells her when she’s got her seatbelt on and sitting in the front seat. “I’ve lost heaps.”

He starts the car and begins driving to the safe house. He’s concerned about the way she’s holding herself, fixing her body to a position that looks stiff and awkward but really, she’s tensed all her muscles so the fluidity of the car doesn’t make her body move at all. He notices as they go over a speed bump, her eyes close and she sucks in an audible breath of what he can only describe as pain.

“What hurts?” He asks, staring straight ahead.

Natasha doesn’t answer.

Perhaps, he considers, that’s a loaded question. How do you pick what hurts, if everything does?

“I can help,” he clarifies as he pulls the car up to the house.

She’s out of the car without a word and moving into the house before he can stop her. He checks in with base, gives their coordinates and gets told that exfil is in 12 hours.

Clint sighs and puts his head on the steering wheel, why does he always find this difficult?

Dealing with Natasha’s stoicism and denial of injury when she’s clearly hurt, he actually finds harder than any of her other ingrained conditioning. He wants to yell at her to let him help- but doing that, would without a doubt make her run or shut him out completely. He grunts to himself and then follows her into the house.

She’s been in the bathroom for an hour. He wonders if he should help. The showers run, the toilets flushed and he’s heard the sharp intake of breath of pouring alcohol in a wound (it’s a very distinctive breathing pattern). He pulls out painkillers and leaves them on the table. He’s not going to mention it, it’s not like she’s going to take it anyway, but at least the suggestion is there.

At an hour and a half, he knocks, checking in with her, his concern piqued when he hasn’t heard movement or sound in around ten minutes.

“Natasha? What do you want for dinner?” He decides against asking if she’s ok.

They both know she’s not.

He hears some rummaging, and then moves away from the door as she opens it.

He sucks in a breath, her black eye has darkened on full display, and it’s blossomed to her jaw. There is no way she does not have a concussion.

“What?” She asks, an edge to her voice that he doesn’t really want to mess with.

“Dinner?” He clarifies.

She shakes her head. “I’m fine.” He resists the urge to huff and roll his eyes.

“Ok.” He doesn’t push it. He’ll try again later.

He notices she’s cleaned her hands and there’s not a trace of blood he can see. The bruises though, they seem to litter her body.

“It’s fine.” She says, a bit off beat, as she sits on the edge of the couch, answering a question he doesn’t ask.

She lightly touches her cheek and winces, it’s enough of an opening for Clint to ask if it hurts.

She looks sharply at him, “what does it matter?”

This time he can’t help but huff.

“You matter.” He mutters.

She holds her head in her hands and apologizes.

“I’m sorry. I just, I have a headache.”

It’s the first time she’s actually acknowledged that something hurts, that she’s in pain and Clint tries not to react.

“Here.” He says ready. In one hand he has an ice pack, in another he has pain killers, it’s a forced choice. She opts for the ice pack putting it straight on her bad eye.

He leaves her on the couch and makes a hodgepodge meal of crackers, dried meats, and some dip. He leaves out the grazing plate and turns the TV on and eats.

He falls asleep to the sounds of the movie they were watching, and wakes up covered in a blanket and to the sounds of dry retching in the toilet. He exhales loudly, and gets up to knock on the door. It’s open, but he doesn’t want to push his luck.

“Can I come in?” He requests.

“I’m sorry.” She replies and he takes it as consent to cross the threshold. He approaches her slowly, like sneaking up in a wild animal.

“Why are you sorry, Nat?” She’s not oriented to him and her pupils are blown. She hasn’t slept then.

“I’m sorry.” She repeats. “I’m hard to love.”

He’s taken aback by her confession and it’s a thought that must’ve been rolling around her head, because she repeats it and her voice breaks as she hides her face and breath hitches in what Clint thinks is Natasha crying.

Fuck.

The concussion is really doing a number on her.

He doesn’t comment on what she’s disclosed, instead he sits next to her and passes her some water.

Finally, she makes eye contact, and it’s the first time since her found her after the fight.

“I’m ok.” She tells him.

“I know you are.” He tells her sitting close enough that at the very least he hopes she doesn’t feel so alone.

#clintasha fic #Clint/Nat fics #natasha romanoff #black widow #hawkeye #Clint barton #clintasha #my fic #injury tw #blood tw

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earthlostgirl · 3 years

Text

here I am again, writing fics. Inspiration comes and goes as it pleases

Date

Faye wrapped herself in the blanket and settled into the sofa with the book in her hands, a steaming tea on the table and a packet of chocolate cookies. She smiled indulgently at the quiet afternoon ahead and focused on reading.

She didn't need lifting her head from the book to know that Spike had just entered the room, walked over to her and leaned against the back of the couch. He grinned from ear to ear and looked at her cheekily with those wonderful dark eyes, and she managed not to lose her composure.

Even if he'd just come from working out and his skin was covered in sweat and all she felt like doing was licking him up and down. Spike raised his eyebrows smiling even wider, as if he had read her mind and she felt her cheeks catch fire.

“Today you and I are going out,” he said with all the confidence he has, picking up the cup and taking a sip of her tea.

“I beg your pardon?” Faye blinked in disbelief, watching as he reached out for a cookie.

“In an hour. Let's have some fun,” Spike set the cup down on the table and cracked his knuckles.

“What do you think, that I don't have plans?” She snapped, slapping Spike's hand as he lunged for another cookie.

“It's Saturday, and you're wrapped in a blanket with tea, no, you don't have plans,” he muttered, chewing exaggeratedly.

“And you think hanging out with you is more interesting than finding out what happens to Edmund Tully on his wedding day?” Faye asked pointing to the book.

“You know he never got around to publishing the last two?” Spike said smiling tapping the cover of the book with a finger. “One hour, Valentine, don't keep me waiting.”

And just as he had appeared he left, hands in his pockets and slightly arched over. Faye didn't plan to move from the spot. Spike was an arrogant and cheeky prick, if he thought that with his charming smile and a walk he was going to convince her he had lost his mind.

Faye went back to focus on her reading, trying to erase from her mind how good that guy always smelled.

After forty minutes she closed the book in outrage; there was enough death in her life already, to also have to suffer it in a novel. She hurled the book on the table and repressed a cry of frustration covering herself with the blanket.

...

An hour had already gone by, Spike was waiting in the hangar for Faye to show up, still not quite sure if she had forgiven him. But things between them had smoothed out and at least she was talking to him again. He was nervous and even though he'd used all the audacity he had to ask her out. Faye was capable of ignoring him completely, dropping him like a cigarette butt and deflating his ego without so much as batting an eyelash. Spike wasn't keeping track of the number of cigarettes he had smoked in the twenty minutes he had been waiting when heard heels approaching him, turned around trying to transform his stupid smile of happiness into a superb expression of triumph.

Faye zipped up a red leather jacket, which he had never seen before and looked at him with the hands on her hips. She was wearing black boots with a ridiculously high heel that made her endless legs look even longer.

“I'm merely doing this because the book is in a critical situation and I need to forget it,” Faye muttered looking at a remote point behind him.

“Whatever you tell Valentine,” Spike smiled, and she walked in front of him without answering.

Faye was wearing jeans so tight he was convinced that in some cultures were considered illegal. Spike had to restrain himself from pinning her against the wall of the Bebop and undressing her right there.

Spike had been asking favors and collecting debts to find the perfect place. In the end he'd gotten tickets to a place called Baghdad, which from what he had been told was the best place on Venus. It was virtually impossible to go there without a connection or waiting 6 months on a list.

They sat down in a booth, and Faye took off her jacket, revealing a black chiffon shirt so sheer he could guess even the most delicate lace line of her bra. He was incapable to hide a smirk at the thought that she had made herself so beautiful for him. Faye rolled her eyes, resting her cheek on the hand as she realized how he was looking at her.

“What would you like drinking?”

"Rum.”

They started an irrelevant chat about how hard it was to find good bounties since they cancelled the Big Shot. But the only thing he was able to concentrate on was the red of her lips, which was the same shade as her jacket and how the lights of the club reflected in her eyes as she looked at him.

So he kept talking not quite knowing what to say but delighted because she was watching him attentively with a smile on her lips.

Suddenly Faye cut her attention away from him, focusing on what was going on behind him. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she blinked in disbelief. Faye set her hands to her mouth to cover a smile that her eyes couldn't hide. He had lost her attention completely and turned around to picture what she was seeing.

On a small stage a naked couple was having sex in front of everyone. He was a huge guy, full of muscles, and she was an oxygenated blonde with fake breasts who moaned and screamed at every thrust.

Spike couldn't believe it, where the hell had he brought her? He looked around, half-naked dancers were scattered all over the room. Perfect, now Faye would think he was a pervert. That he had brought her there with some hidden agenda. All he wanted to do was take her dancing or have some fun.

“Where did you bring me Spiegel?” she asked with a laugh.

Spike didn't dare look her in the face. He was going to kill Stuart, was going to strangle him with his own guts and forsake him hanging in one of the gardens of Venus. In whose head could that place be perfect to surprise a girl?

Faye kept an eye on the couple as a third participant with more muscle than the first one joined them.

“That position must be tremendously uncomfortable for the poor girl,” she commented distractedly and placed her eyes on him, demanding an explanation.

What the hell was he going to say? That his friend told him that this was the most famous place on Venus? That everyone wanted to be here? That he hadn't asked anything else because he was an idiot? He move his hands to his forehead sniffling and leaned his elbows on the table trying to relax, his head was aching. Faye was going to tell him to fuck off. He didn't even want to look at her.

“We're leaving, aren't we?” she asked, and he couldn't tell if she was annoyed or if she was laughing at him.

Suddenly he felt stupid and furious. He got up from his chair without saying a word, gulped down what was left in his glass, grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit without waiting for her. Spike opened the door and heard the doorman say goodbye to Faye without missing the opportunity to flirt with her, and that made him even angrier.

...

They left that club, initially Faye wanted to make him believe she was angry, that it had bothered her that he had taken her to that place of vice and depravity. But just seeing how embarrassed he was, she was moved and decided not to joke with him. Spike was walking in front of her talking or rather yelling at someone on the phone.

Whitney had faked a fairy tale, introducing himself as the knight in shining armor who was there to save her. Big words, movie-worthy gestures and the whole love story. She had been so lost, so scared that she had believed him completely. She thought he was going to take care of her and love her, but he left her with a broken heart and an unpayable debt.

And now there she was, walking behind Spike Spiegel, who had few words and not many gestures.

Spike was a hopeless romantic. His whole history with Julia was proof of that, he wanted to leave everything for her. He risked his life for her, and without her, he found no sense in living. Julia had broken his heart, and yet he loved her to the point of no care to stay alive. Even if Spike denied it... if Julia were alive, he would have disappeared from her side without looking back. She was so sure of that it made her anxious, wanting to run away from him to avoid worse harm. Avoid thinking that Spike would rather be with Julia or that he thought of her when he closed his eyes and kissed her.

She was heartbroken, but Julia was dead, and she didn't want a ghost to take away the only good thing in her life. So she needed to believe that she was more than a replacement and that she meant something to him.

“Aren't you hungry?” Faye asked as he hung up his communicator and stopped in the middle of the street.

“No,” Spike replied grumpily, turning around to look at her. “But we can stop somewhere if you feel like it.”

She nodded not quite sure what to say, she didn't understand why Spike was so upset. Although she knew he was hurt in his pride, and she tried hard not laughing.

He walked beside her in silence, with his hands in his pockets and slowing his pace to match her pace.

“I know a place where serve wonderful pizza,” Spike finally said, stopping in front of her.

“Do they cook nakedly or dressed?” Faye asked laughing, trying to get him to smile again.

Spike winced in disgust and blushed up to his ears. She smiled, walked over and patted him on the back.

They enjoyed a leisurely dinner sitting at the pizzeria bar, not talking too much and watching video clips on an old TV screen.

“Shall we go home?” Spike asked, he was sulking, and it looked like his sole intention was to disappear and lock up somewhere to curse.

“No,”

Spike looked at her in surprise and remained silent crumpling the paper napkin in his hands.

“We'd better seek a quiet place to spend the night, do you want to?” Faye asked getting up and running a hand through his tangled hair.

Spike slipped an arm around her hip and pulled her to him, sighing he rested his head on her shoulder and mumbled something against her neck.

They arrived at a lovely hotel. The receptionist handed them the key, and they quietly made their way up to the third floor. The heater was on, and it was pleasantly warm inside the room.

She sat on the bed, so she could take off the heels that were killing her and Spike leaned against the small table in front of her, took off his jacket, placed it on the chair carefully and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Looking sad and disappointed, he rested his hands on the table and looked at her as she massaged her aching feet. She got up from the bed and stood in front of him caressing his face carefully.

“You're in a bad mood, huh?” she asked in a whisper with her fingers in his hair.

“No,” Spike replied sharply.

He was incapable of allowing things go. When something didn't go his way, it affected his mood and the way he treated others. She caressed his cheek and gave him a small kiss. She ran her hands down his neck and gently began to unbutton his shirt.

Faye sighed as she saw the scar across his chest and carefully ran her hand over it. Spike crossed his arms behind her back pulling her close to him.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered.

“No,”

Faye could feel Spike's eyes on her, but she still didn't look up from his chest.

“I wasn't able to stitch you up,” Faye slid her hands down his back and wrapped her arms around him. “My hands were shaking so badly that Jet pushed me away, and he did.”

She heard him sigh deeply and felt how he closed his arms around her and kissed her hair. He whispered her name and cooed her in his arms tenderly.

“Will you tell me someday what happened with the syndicate?” she asked very softly, wondering if he could have heard her.

“No,” he replied using that sharp tone of voice that bothered her so much, she broke away from him and he sighed again. “You wouldn't like to know the kind of man I am.”

“I know the kind of man you are Spike,” she replied clutching his face with both hands and kissing his forehead. "The kind of guy who takes you to a club with live porn on the first date.”

He frowned and grumbled closing his legs to trap her between them, pulling her close to him again. He grabbed her firmly by the waist and looked at her with a serious gesture.

“It wasn't our first date anyway,” he whispered unbuttoning the button of her jeans and pulling down the zipper.

“Ah, wasn't it?” Faye asked curiously.

“We went out for dinner and drinks the night before we confronted Decker. The one who stole the trucks,” Spike slid the pants down her hips and she let them fall to the floor.

“We were working, we need dinner Spiegel, that wasn't a date,” she replied crossing her arms as he tangled with her hair.

“We ended up in bed,” he lowered the pitch of his voice a couple of octaves and a shiver ran down her back just from the way he was looking at her.

“It was never my intention. We were too drunk,” she stammered nervously, feeling small electric shocks where he placed his hands.

“It was mine. I used all my seduction tricks,” Spike gave her one of his charming smiles while he grabbed her arms and slid his hands up and down them.

“You're lucky I don't recall anything,” she caressed Spike's palms, trying to hold back the urge to jump on him and devour every inch of his skin.

“In fact it was my intention since I saw you behind that table in the casino, with your thin pink jacket,” he said, touching the buttons of her shirt one by one.

“Yes, huh?” Faye whispered in his ear while she caressed the back of his neck and felt his skin crawl. “What did you want to do to me?”

Spike chuckled, grabbed her ass with both hands and pressed her body against him, caressing her back gently.

“I wanted to bite you, lick you, touch you,” Spike grabbed her hair and looked down at her biting his lips. "I wanted to hear you scream my name.”

She took a breath and shivered as she felt Spike's fingers drawing small circles where her shirt ended.

“So what are you waiting for?” she whispered, almost brushing his lips, feeling the tightness of Spike's grip around her waist.

He gazed down at her with a smile laden with desire and without a second's thought, kissed her until they were breathless. Spike pulled away from her to catch his breath holding her face, still looking into her eyes, challenging her, asking for more, demanding more. Faye kissed him again as she finished removing his shirt and pinning him against the table. But Spike was stronger so without any effort on his part lifted her by the waist with one arm and carried her to the bed.

#cowboy bebop #spaye #spike x faye #spike spiegel #faye valentine #fanfiction

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prrplwtch · 4 years

Note

#170 and #190 combined from the fic prompt for mc and solomon

Hi nonnie :)

Here you go, but I have to say I got a little bit carried away 💜this mc has been largely inspired by mc from my “have you never seen a bra before” series of fics - the poor girl is just tryna get some.

“Go ahead. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.” “I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought.” Solomon x f!MC

Solomon was walking through the gardens of the Academy, hoping to spend some time in his favorite secluded place, just by the lake. The school day has ended, and the grounds were now clear of students, but he was in no hurry to depart. There were some things he needed to think over, and it was best to do so in complete solitude.

To his surprise, someone was already there. Initially, he considered turning around and walking away, but as Solomon came closer, he realized that it was MC. She was sitting on the boulder by the lake, holding a large bottle of liquor in one hand. He paused for a moment, considering his options, and then decided to approach her.

He had grown quite fond of MC over the course of the past couple month and sometimes even wished that the two of them were better…acquainted, but it was a rare occasion to see MC without at least one demon brother hanging around, and Solomon did not exactly come to the Devildom in search of romantic adventures.

And yet, there was something about her that drew him to her – perhaps, it was the knowledge of her potential after he let her borrow his magic power at Diavolo’s castle, or perhaps it was something else.

“Rough week?” Solomon asked, as he approached MC.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” MC replied, as she turned to look at him. A moment later she held up the bottle of liquor, “I don’t even like this stuff, but it’s the only thing I could find in the House of Lamentation that could get a human drunk.”

“What could possibly be causing such despair?” Solomon wondered, as he sat down next to MC on the giant boulder.

“Do you ever get the feeling that you are surrounded by densest of fools?” MC gave him a grim smile.

Of course he did, but he’d never say that.

“I suppose everyone can act somewhat foolish on occasion,” he offered instead, wondering who made MC this upset.

“Trust me, I wish it was “on occasion”,” she replied.

Solomon glanced down to hide his half-smile and suddenly noticed that MC’s skirt had slightly ridden up baring more of her leg than usual. It took him a moment to look away.

“Have a drink with me,” MC said, turning to him, “I feel rather sad drinking all by myself.”

Solomon hesitated – he had some plans for later in the evening, and getting wasted in the afternoon would certainly interfere with them.

“Or, if you don’t want to simply drink, I’m challenging you to a drinking contest,” MC continued, clearly sensing his hesitation.

Solomon was not the one to back down from a challenge, and yet he still felt unsure.

“I do not believe that would be quite fair to you,” Solomon pointed out – he was taller than MC and definitely weighed more.

“Go ahead. Underestimate me. That would be fun,” MC gave him a half-smirk, “Or are you afraid of losing?”

Well, that’s it then.

“Very well,” Solomon said, finally, “You’re on.”

“Great,” MC smiled, “If I win you’ll have to teach me a spell that…Is there a spell that makes someone stop acting like an idiot?”

The question caused Solomon to laugh.

“I’m afraid even magic cannot help with that,” he replied, looking at MC, whose face showed clear frustration.

“Fine,” MC sighed, “Then teach me a love spell.”

Solomon wondered why someone like her would have need of such a spell, but nodded.

“As you wish – and if I win you’ll owe me a favor,” he replied.

“Fine by me,” MC agreed.

Solomon conjured up two shot glasses and MC poured out the first round. The drink was bitter, but Solomon did not mind. MC clearly did not enjoy the taste, as he could see her almost wince. Another round of shots followed soon and then another. He saw a blush appear on her cheeks and his own face was feeling somewhat warm.

“Did you ever imagine that one day you would be an exchange student in the Devildom,” MC asked and Solomon almost choked on his drink. She could not know, of course not – and he’d never tell her.

“How could I?” he replied once he regained some of his composure, “Although I cannot say that I was ever not fascinated with this realm – I’ve spent quite a bit of time reading about it.”

“And summoning demons,” MC added.

Solomon hurried to pour out another round of drinks in hopes of changing the conversation. It was quite easy to conceal the truth all this time, and he was not about to let anything slip.

“I wonder,” MC said suddenly, “Do you think demons are just dense or do they simply think differently from us?”

Solomon smiled, as he suppressed sigh of relief at MC changing the topic.

“That is the most complicated question,” Solomon responded, as the two of them drank another round of shots. The bottle was half-way empty. If he was honest with himself, Solomon thought that she would already give up by this point, but MC still seemed to be doing strong.

Her blush was much brighter now, and he could feel the heat spread through his body.

“While they don’t think exactly like people, mainly due to differences in the worldview, there are some significant similarities,” he continued, looking at MC who nodded along.

They drank more and Solomon caught himself unintentionally staring at MC. He’d always thought her quite pretty, but now, sitting next to her alone for the first time and talking, he felt very drawn to her.

Solomon shook his head and looked down, trying to calm his thoughts. Instead, he caught another glimpse of her leg, which brought more heat to his cheeks.

When they finished more than three quarters of the bottle and MC still hadn’t given up, Solomon turned to her.

“I’m curious,” he said, “Why would you need me to teach you a love spell.”

“Isn’t it self-evident?” MC asked as she downed another glass.

“I wouldn’t think someone like you would need it,” Solomon said, as MC leaned slightly closer to him, allowing him to feel the warmth of her skin.

“Well, I’d never think that someone like you would need it,” his drunk tongue suddenly speaks before he could think, “You seem like someone who would not have any troubles in her love life.”

“Oh?” MC leaned even closer. Solomon found himself staring at her lips. He knew he needed to end this conversation.

“Yes,” he said quietly, “Falling for a woman like you is the easiest thing anyone could do.”

He was not sure if it was him or MC that closed the distance between them, but next thing he knew was here lips were on his, hot and demanding, as he fingers snaked their way through his hair. His head spun – her touch was intoxicating. He reached out to pull her closer and, suddenly, she was straddling his lap.

His hands traveled around her body, feeling the tenderness and warmth of her skin. He knew that they could be seen if anyone returned to the school grounds, but he did not care. In that moment all he wanted was her.

When she broke off their kiss, and began undoing the buttons of her uniform, Solomon suddenly felt his head spin and for a moment it was dark in his eyes. He must have grown pale because MC stopped and looked him, concerned.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“I think I may be more drunk than I thought,” Solomon admitted, as he felt his head spin again.

For a moment, MC looked incredulous. Then she sighed and got off his lap. Solomon watched her as she picked up the bottle with the remained of the liquor and downed it in one gulp.

“I win,” she declared, holding up the empty bottle, “So you’ll have to teach me the love spell whenever you sober up.”

“A bet is a bet,” Solomon replied.

“Do you need help getting to the Purgatory Hall?” MC asked him.

“No, I will be alright,” Solomon replied. One good thing about being a sorcerer was the ability to process alcohol much quicker than normal humans did – it would likely take him less than an hour to be sober again, but right now he was not feeling too great.

“As you wish,” MC replied.

As Solomon watched her walk away, he wondered if, perhaps, it was a mistake to not pursue her. It may have been – but it’s far too late now.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x mc #poor mc just tryna get some #but all the boys are dumb #my writing

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avaria-revallier · 4 years

Text

Chapter 8 - She sings for her brothers

Masterpost

Chapter 7

Thorin pathed up and down in front of the large, closed door. He could hear her familiar giggling from inside. It filled him with warmth, but at the same time, cold fear made him freeze when he thought of the possibility of losing this sound.

There were two other, deeper voices coming through the door, but due to the thick wood, he wasn’t able to identify them. He guessed that it was Fili and Kili. His sister-sons had taken quite the liking to his hobbit.

“Uncle, what are you doing here?” asked a familiar voice from behind him.

“We thought you had an important meeting with the elf and the wizard?” Kili continued his older brother's questioning.

“It’s none of your business,” he grumbled, continuing his pacing.

Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks, almost causing his nephews to run into him.

“If you are out here with me, who is it then in there with her?” he stared at the two princes, panic slightly creeping up his spine.

He knew that Oin had left her quite some time ago to gather some herbs from the tree-shaggers garden. Dwalin had proceeded with organizing their camp as they didn’t feel safe staying in separate chambers. Bombur was gone to plunder the kitchens, taking Bifur and Bofur with him. Ori was somewhere in the vast gardens, drawing and gathering flowers for the burglar. Nori was being scolded by his older brother, while Gloin took a nap.

So, who in Mahal's name was in her room? Who dared to laugh and giggle so comfortably with his hobbit?!

Furiously, he stormed inside the room, without even knocking! The door crashed against the wall and all the laughter suddenly stopped. Three pairs of eyes rested on him.

His gaze was instantly drawn to her beautiful eyes, but he warned himself not to lose his composure. Instead of drowning in her eyes, he averted his look to critically inspect the other two.

Two identical elves sat on each side of her bed. Twins, he concluded. They didn’t look as if they were threatening her in any way, still, why would they even be here? What was it that they might want from his burglar?

It was wonderful to see Elladan and Elrohir again. She had missed the twin-sons of Lord Elrond greatly. They had always managed to cheer her up with their mischiefs and the pranks they pulled.

First, she had been surprised to find them in the infirmary, but shortly after she understood that neither of them was ill or injured. They just were here to ‘acquire’ some bandages and mild sleeping pills. Most likely for another one of their mischiefs.

During the first half of an hour, she had been nothing more than a sobbing mess. The brothers did their best to cheer her up by telling her about their best pranks. It was so good to see them again, to talk with them.

They had just finished telling her the story about how they had hidden some really old eggs all over the library, waiting for Lindir to find all of them. Because of the wonderful reaction of his, they had decided to reenact this ‘event’ every year from then on.

Her ribs only stung every now and then when she inhaled too deep and even laughing brought no other discomfort than a light stabbing pain. The healers of Imladris were really the best ones around. They had managed to mend her broken ribs, stabilized her twisted ankle, and even relocated her shoulder so it didn’t hurt all too much anymore. She felt cleaner than throughout the whole journey and the white dress they had organized for her in a hurry was very comfortable. The pain remained in her body but was not as obvious as before.

She had tried to convince the twins to let her leave the infirmary and join the others, but they had managed to keep her there, telling her stories of the past and letting her in on their pranks. She knew some of their stories, but to hear them from themselves was better than all she could have wished for at the moment.

She giggled at their tale about how they had put glue on Thranduil's crown when he visited ages ago. Gesturing to lean in a bit she wrapped her arms around both of their necks, pulling them closer and placing a big kiss on each of their cheeks. She had missed them dearly.

Thorin chose this exact moment to barge in, slamming the door against the wall, making one of the framed pictures fall onto the ground. Under his glare, she shrunk a bit, but corrected herself immediately by straightening her back. She had done nothing wrong!

Behind the fuming king appeared his nephews, Fili and Kili. They only popped their heads into the room, eying the twin elves with suspicion and curiosity. With wide eyes they watched their fuming uncle and leader. Bella feared the moment when both brother pairs realized what they had in common. Their mischiefs.

“Tho- Master Oakenshield, what are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting with Lord Elrond to decipher your map,” she tilted her head in confusion.

Did he just growl at the twins?! He did, she realized when she looked at the panicked expressions on Kilis and Filis faces.

“I believe nobody had introduced you to each other? Elladan and Elrohir meet Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of this company,” she smiled at the two elves and ruffled Elladan’s hair.

Another deeper growl came from the direction of the dwarven king. Bella's hand stopped moving and her eyes wandered towards the dwarf. Thorin was standing in the open door like a wild warg that had finally gone mad. His eyes hard and cold, his lips pressed together in a firm line. One hand resting on the sword, the other clenched in a fist.

“What do you think you are doing?” he barked at Bella, his frosty gaze still resting on the twins.

She knew the tone in his voice all too well. The last time she heard it, he had almost thrown her off the walls of Erebor, marking her a traitor and banishing her from his lands.

Bella flinched at his harsh voice and the memory connected with it. Her ribs ached and breathing suddenly became so much harder. In her mind, she could see the faraway ground under her dangling feet all too well. Felt his hand around her neck, and the cold wind in her hair.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, in pain, panicked. Separating her hands from the twins and hugging herself tightly, ignoring the explosive waves of hot pain in her shoulder and ribcage.

“Is there something you wanted from me? I believe you have somewhere to be. As you can see, I am in good company,” she told him, her voice cold and her eyes flickering.

Elrohir closed in on her. His large hands gently untangled two of her curls. He had taken a liking to the hobbit lass, as did his brother. Elladan tensed seeing the pain in her eyes. He could see the discomfort in Bella's face. Something was not right and the cause was the rude dwarf in the medical wing.

There was more to this conversation than what meets the eye. That, both brothers were sure of. In silence, they swore to get to the bottom of this. A nod sealed their pact.

“I think you should go, father is surely waiting for you already,” Elladan advised the king with a sharp subtone.

“We will gladly escort you there,” Elrohir offered, standing up from the bed and stepping between Thorin and Bella.

“Very well then, burglar. Stay with your precious tree-shaggers. You had no place amongst us from the start.”

His glare was cold as ice, but still burning as hot as dragon fire on her skin. Those words were spoken in anger, Bella knew that. She still flinched and turned away to hide the tears rolling down her face.

Thorin said nothing more as he left the room together with the twins. He didn’t need to. The damage was done and the wound deep enough. He didn’t look back either.

Fili looked at his brother. They had witnessed the whole thing and were not sure if now would be a good time to give her their craft. Still, now was better than never.

“Uncle Thorin did something stupid, didn’t he?” Kili asks as if to complete Fili’s thoughts.

Sighing, he nodded. Of course Thorin would. They all saw it. Bella was special to him. He valued her, her talents, and her advice as much as her company. Thorin's eyes would find her whenever he thought nobody was watching. When she laughed, his mood would lighten and when she was tired he would order them all to rest, even if it was in the middle of nowhere.

Fili had never seen his uncle acting this way towards anyone other than his family. He couldn’t help but wonder what his mother would say about this whole situation. In his mind, a plan was beginning to form. They would have to write to their mother soon anyway. Why not ask her for advice at the same time? He smiled at Kili, his brother would quite like this idea too.

Kili nodded, interpreting the smile wrongly and stepped out of the shadows in the hall and into Bella's room.

The hobbit seemed even smaller than before. The way she sat there, silently sobbing and trying her best to wipe away her tears that constantly flowed from her eyes. She looked frail and tired, and somehow very old.

He cleared his throat a bit louder than necessary. Bella jumped at the sudden sound and hastily turned around. her eyes were red and swollen and her face looked so sad that Fili flinched back. Kili reacted in exactly the same way.

“Ah, well. I am sorry,” Fili started, awkwardly scratching his neck, “Uncle was never really good with words, especially not if he cared for a person.”

Kili stared at the ground, his hands fiddling on the button of the pocket that contained their gift. His determination suddenly dwindled. Maybe she didn’t want to have anything to do with any of the dwarrows ever again. What if she didn’t accept? Or worse, she really would stay with the elves of the last homely house. She did look like she liked those twins quite a lot. More than him and Fili? Surely not.

“May we sit next to you?” he asked instead of voicing all those questions swarming his head.

Bella nodded at the brothers. She was happy that at least they wouldn’t turn away from her, now that Thorin seemed to react even fiercer than in her previous life. His reaction had somehow caught her off guard and hurt all the more.

Her eyes still felt swollen and her vision was still blurry from all the tears. She sat herself upright once more, her back against the wooden head of the bed. Kili climbed first onto the large bed, followed by his brother shortly after. With Fili on her left and Kili on her right side, she relaxed a bit. They gave her a sense of comfort and safety.

“Mistress Baggins,” Fili started again, “ I, we have something for you,” he stopped, shyly looking through the window.

“It is not much, but it was crafted by our own hands,” Kili hurried to help his brother.

Looking down, Bella could spot a pair of silver bells resting in the palm of the dark haired prince. A gasp escaped her and she clutched her hands over her mouth. Tears started flowing once again, this time out of joy and not because of pain or sorrow.

A warm, tingly feeling blossomed in her chest and pulsed through her whole body with each excited thump of her heart. It was a feeling long forgotten. Her hands trembled as she reached out. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t hide the shaky smile any longer and her eyes darted back and forth between the brothers.

Fili still stared out the window, his hands buried in his pockets, while Kili eyed her with a goofy grin, bringing their present a bit nearer to her fingers. Aside from her own fast breath, the princes didn’t seem to breathe at all.

Careful, as if the hairpin was made out of glass, Balla picked it up and held the bells up towards a ray of sunlight shining through the trees outside the window. The golden light made the tiny pair of bells gleam and glitter. They looked even prettier than she remembered. With her fingers the hobbit caressed the engraved runes and moved across the elegant hairpin. A dwarven craft indeed. She couldn’t even see how they had fastened the bells onto the pin. The engraved runes looked so natural on those bells, as if they had been always there, hidden.

Their gleam and soft ring made her heart painfully tighten. Suddenly the bright colours of her surroundings dimmed and her fingers felt cold. These bells had found their way back to her. Maybe, just maybe he would too.

Before, one bell had hung next to her ear while the other gleamed in the raven-black hair of a certain someone. In perfect harmony with the silver strains of hair and beads. Bellas face heated up as she remembered seeing him back in the Shire, without the bell adorning his dark mane. It had changed something deep inside her.

Her heart still fluttered whenever he was near, whenever he looked at her with those unbelievably blue eyes. Each time she had to stop herself from touching his arm or hand even if just briefly.

When she poked at his chest, in Bree, when she touched his arm, and when she felt the brief touch as she freed him from the sack the trolls had put him in. It all felt right and made her soul hum in excitement. Still, it was wrong.

Subconsciously, her fingers brushed over her lips ever so slightly. Get yourself together, Bella, she scolded herself.

Pressing the gift against her chest, she took a few moments to gather herself, dry the tears and find the right words. Her heart felt lighter and the anxiety which weighed her down suddenly disappeared.

“I love it,” she simply said.

There were no words to describe her feelings better. Joy and happiness flooded her like a good wine. Relief made her head spin and the world brightened up. Fili exhaled a deep sigh. A wide grin on his lips. Smiling, he looked so much younger and more like Kili. They both were so young.

Kili hugged her in excitement, resulting in her bumping against the older of the pair. Both started laughing. Bella relaxed, her head cleared and finally she felt at ease. They would not leave her behind here. Like always these chaotic princes, her brothers now, managed to shoo away all bad feelings and dark thoughts.

“Fili, would you do my hair for me?” Bella said, lifting her head from his shoulder.

Kili sat up in an instant. His hair even messier than before, eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, gaping at the both of them. Fili had a similar expression. Well, a bit more royal or kingly or so to say.

“It would be my pleasure, namad,” the blond-haired prince grinned triumphantly at his brother, while Kili grumbled something under his breath.

Bella patted the empty spot next to her. Once Kili had made himself comfortable, she gently started to untangle his strands. Curled up next to her, he looked even younger, vulnerable. Her heart ached, remembering how still he had laid there on the cold stone of Erebor. But here, in the soft warm bed he was safe, alive and definitely breathing as his rising chest proved.

Nimble fingers parted her hair, braided the sections back together and finally brought them all together at the back of her head. The pin held her up and the small silver bells jingled happily with every motion of hers.

With a smile, she gestured at Fili to take place on her other side. Just like his brother, he curled up by her side, his head on her lap. Her hand wandered to her own hair, carefully feeling the artwork Fili had managed to make her wild curls into, before she started caressing the blond and brown hair of her brothers.

Taking a deep breath she starts to sing:

Did you hear from the tale,

Of a land with no name?

Where the earth is still singing,

And the birds flying free?

Did you hear from the eldest,

Of a land with no name?

Where they all come together,

Once a year to celebrate.

Did you hear the winds whisper,

Of a land with no name?

Where the sky seems so near,

Every dream can be reached.

Did you see the smokes pictures,

Of a land with no name?

Where the sky touches the earth,

And the lands smiling still?

Did you hear them all calling,

From a land with no name?

Where we all come together,

Where we all are the same.

As soon as their breaths had deepened and they had completely fallen asleep, Bella carefully tucked them in with blankets and gave each of them a kiss on the head. Brushing again over the braids she had put in their hair.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I had known you all along?” once again she climbed down the bed with a heavy heart.

In the shadows of the hallway, a three-pointed hairstyle vanished just as her feet touched the ground. Unnoticed, the one who heard each of the hobbits' words disappeared to think over the newly gathered information on their mysterious burglar.

Fili and Kili needed the rest more than her. The bells jingled happily as she hopped down the bed. Kili grunted and turned towards his brother. Bella froze on the spot. He wouldn’t wake, would he?

The sun had set some time ago. Now the only things illuminating the halls were the candles on the walls. She didn’t need the lights either way. These halls were as familiar as the tunnels of her smial in Shire.

Here, there lay so many memories. Warm summers, when she explored the gardens and the forest with the twins. Long evenings she spent reading with Lindir. Visits from Gandalf and Lady Galadriel. Wine tasting with Lord Elrond whenever Thranduil visited.

Cold winters with a lot of crying and remorse, while every spring brought a new beginning. Each year in fall she would take a small trip to the surrounding forest and all the way to Shire. In the dead of night she would make her way to the oak tree she had planted all those years ago, greet him, tell him of her pain and sorrow, and share her joyous moments and happy memories with her trusted companion.

“Mistress Baggins?” a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

The song is my own, so I ask of you please do not copy or use it. Thank you!

Chapter 9 - coming soon

AO3

@stuckupstucky

If you want me to tag you as well, please just send me a message.

If you like what you have read consider reblogging my story for others to enjoy too.

I am always open for asks and requests for shorts of our favorite dwarrows!

#middle earth #hobbit #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #Hobbit Fandom #my thoughts #story #My Story #original story #fanfiction #the path I choose #Thorin Oakenshield #thorin #king thorin #thorin fanfiction #thorin imagine #bilbo baggins #female Bilbo #thorin x bilbo

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reinosaurs · 4 years

Text

Encounter - Part 2 (A KoiTsudu Fanfic)

Note: You can read the first part here: ENCOUNTER PART 1.

...continuation

Nanase sighed.

She never felt tired like this before. She looked at the wall clock to check the time and once again sighed. Her shift is done.

After she changed her clothes, she grabbed her phone and checked any messages. When there was none, she put it back to her pocket.

Before she could ever leave the quarters, her eyes caught a small note near her notebook. It was from Tendo-sensei.

"I won't go home tonight. I wouldn't be able to walk with you home. Be careful on your way. Don't forget to bring an umbrella."

Nanasr slightly smiled and once again sighed. That can't be helped. It's Tendo-sensei being Tendo-sensei himself again. Hard-working and dedicated.

She just hope he wouldn't push himself too much. She's always worried for his health.

Grabbing the umbrella near her table, she left the quarters and strode towards the hospital's entrance. The wind felt so cold as the trees danced in a gentle manner.

As soon as she set her foot outside the hospital, small drops of rain started to fall down. Frantically, she opened her umbrella and the rain instantly fall down hard.

Tendo-sensei... he's a doctor but he can also be a weather forecaster sometimes. She chuckled on her thought.

She walked down the pavements with her umbrella getting heavy because of the rain.

As her heart felt heavy as well.

It has been a weeks since Ayumi got admitted at the hospital.

It has been a week also since the last time she walked home with Tendo-sensei. He had been sleeping and staying up late in the hospital - monitoring Ayumi all day long.

Knowing how busy he is, she made sure that he can eat properly on time. She cooked different lunch meals for him, snacks and even drinks to enjoy amidst his tight schedule.

But most of the time, the food was being left in the cold. Tendo-sensei rarely eat lunch with her because Ayumi always invited him. It was almost like a feast. Freshly cooked dishes from her family's personal chef that almost sent everyone's stomach grumbled in hunger.

Compared to those bento boxes she made...

She shooked her head again. Now is not the time be insecure. And she shouldn't be! Afterall, those bento boxes she made are with love and care. Tendo-sensei always love her cooking skills.

But...

She gripped the umbrella tight.

In those days that passed, her heart never felt at ease. Everytime Ayumi called for her, Kairi was always included on their conversation. She talked and talked how she met him, how they spent their high school days together, how close she is to Kairi's family and...

...and how she admire him so much.

There was a time when she accidentally saw her fixing Tendo-sensei's coat. Those hands that smoothens his hair and that smile Ayumi gave...

She tried so hard to control the uncomfortable feeling in her. Even Ayumi's words...

"Nanase-chan, look. A pearl necklace. Kairi gave it to me last night. He really knows what I like."

"I don't know what you're thinking right now but know that I won't back down."

"What did Kairi saw in you? I can't see anything special."

"I'm just reminding you again what I'm here for, Nanase-chan."

"I will confess to him tomorrow."

Nanase stopped walking as she stared at nothing.

The past week... was excruciatingly... painful.

She tried her best to keep her composure on those days. She wanted to talked back at her but she choose to keeo p it to herself. It wouldn't change anything. She doesn't want to lit a fire.

But I am Tendo-sensei's girlfriend. I have a right to protect our relationship and to defend myself atleast.

Why didn't I?

I'm so weak.

That's right..

What did Tendo-sensei saw in me? Why did I try to express my feeling for him when the whole world knows that it will be nonsense? Where did I even get the courage?

Tendo-sensei... deserves someone better.

"Nanase-chan?"

She jolted a bit when she heard that voice and looked up. "Ryuko-san..."

She looked around. Oh, I didn't realize I was at the apartment already. "Good evening."

Ryuko smiled. "Welcome home. Change your clothes. Let's eat dinner together."

Nanase smiled back and nodded. She fumbled through her bag and grabbed her keys as she opened her apartment.

A few minuted later, Ryuko came with a pot in her hands. She gently placed it in on Nanase's small table.

Nanase's eyes widened. "Sukiyaki?"

Ryuki nodded. "Kairi texted me awhile ago. He wanted me to cook something warm for you."

She stared at Ryuko for a second. The pain in her chest came back but she tried to push it down by forcing a smile.

Ryuko, being observant as she is, noticed Nanase's reaction. He eyes are slightly dull and she seemed so weak and tired these past few days.

I knew this will affect her so much...

Nanase clapped her hands. "Ittadakimasu!"

They ate together in silence. After they cleaned up the plates, they sat on the floor.

"Ryuko-san, thank you for the food! It was delicious!"

"Nanase-chan... are you okay?"

Nanase's smile quickly faded.

Ryuko sighed. She's been so worried for this girl and her brother since Ayumi came. She knew this would happen. All she could do to help is to explain everything.

"Is this because of Ayumi?"

Nanase swallowed the lump on her throat and looked down.

Ryuko sighed as she confirmed it. I don't know if this could help but... here it goes.

"Ayumi is Kairi's childhood friend. They grew so close to each other and I woudn't be surprise if her attachment to him was still strong."

Nanase fidget her fingers and listened.

"You see, Ayumi is a lonely child. She has a silver spoon on her mouth when she was born but at an early age, she lose her parents on an accident. Despite of having an illness, she worked hard to survive in life. Under her grandmother's care, she live the best of life. When her grandmother died, she was lonelier than ever. On those hard times, Kairi is the only one who's been there for her."

Nanase looked at Ryuko and her heart felt heavy. She didn't know Ayumi suffered a lot.

"She developed some deep feelings to Kairi but she never tried to confess. They took different decisions in life and become seperated from each other. Kairi met Minori. Ayumi wanted him to be happy and she gladly accept her unconfessed feeling."

Ryuko sighed. "I thought she gave up her feelings completely. I guess when she heard the news about Minori passing away, she became determined to make Kairi happy again." She looked at Nanase. "But then you came and made him happier. I think, that's why she feel threatened by you."

Nanase's eyes widened. "She was afraid..." She muttered at herself.

She took a deep breath. The insecurity from her heart suddenly vanished as well as the uneasiness. Her chest felt lighter -- she understood it all.

"Ryuko-san..." She smiled. "I think I understand now. Thank you for telling me all of those."

•

Finally, everything is clear to her.

When the morning came, she quickly prepared herself to work. She even woke up earlier than usual. She arrived at the hospital within just a few minutes and strode inside.

But her feet came to a stop when she saw Tendo-sensei leaning his back on the front desk. He met her gaze and immediately walked towards her. Tendo grabbed her wrist and tugged her softly through the hospital's garden.

"Sensei! Good morning!"

Instead of answering her, he engulf her into his arms. "I miss you." He whispred.

Nanase hugged him back. "I miss you too, sensei."

Pulling away from the hug, he caressed her fluffy cheeks. "Did you like last night's dinner?"

She smiled and giggled. "Yes! Absolutely! Ryuko-san is a good cook!"

Tendo smiled at her answer. He continued caressing her cheeks and they are left starring at each other. Nanase reached up and stroke his cheeks also.

"Nanase..."

"Hmm?"

"About Ayumi..."

Nanase nodded. "I know. I understand."

Tendo's brows furrowed. "But---"

"Shhh," She placed her finger to his lips to stop him from talking. "It's okay. Believe me, I understand. You don't need to explain, Sensei.

Tendo gently grabbed the finger from his lips and held her hand. He lifts it up and place a kiss on the back of it. "I'm sorry."

Nanase blushed. She chuckled and shook her head. "Nothing to be sorry for. I know you care for her and if I were in your shoes, I would do the same." She smiled. "It's okay."

Tendo gave a her a light smile and entertwined their hands.

"Let's go?"

"Wait."

Before she could even tugged him inside, he grabbed her shoulders and engulf her in his arms once again. This time, the hug was tighter than before.

"Sensei? What's wrong?"

Tendo sighed and burried his face to her neck. "I don't know. I suddenly felt uneasy. Something is off today."

•

A few hours later...

Nanase found herself standing infront of Ayumi's room.

She took a deep breath. I can do this. Let's just hope everything would went well after. She knocked twice and opened the door. When she got inside, her eyes widened on the sight.

The white expensive vase near her bed was shattered into pieces on the floor.

She looked at Ayumi immediately. "Risako-san! What happened?! Are you okay?"

Ayumi was sitting in her bed but was facing the window. Nanase took a step forward to check her.

"Don't come any closer." Ayumi spat on her, her back still on Nanase.

"But---"

"Shut your mouth!" She screamed. "Don't even think about moving."

Nanase took a step back and stared at her. She stoop at her place as the eerie silence began to engulf them. It didn't took long before Ayumi spoke again.

"Do you... love Kairi?"

Nanase gulped. She opened her mouth to answer but she was more concerned on Ayumi's condition. And this mess on the floor. The vase broke so badly and was dangerous.

"Answer me..."

Nanase sighed. "Y-Yes."

Ayumi bitterly chuckled. "Of course you do. After all the hard work you did just to be with Kairi." She sighed. "You won."

"What?"

"Kairi... he... rejected me." Ayumi clenched her fists. Her eyes began to water as her body trembled. "I knew this would happen. I knew he didn't love me."

Ayumi leaned forward and embrace herself. "So cold..." She sobbed. Tears are slowly spilling from her eyes. "Everyone is leaving me. Even him. He hates me. He hates me. He hates me."

"Ayumi-san!"

Nanase exclaimed. She cannot take this anymore! She took a step forward and strode towards her. "Ayumi-san, please stop. Kairi doesn't hate you, in fact he loves you so much! He had always been there for you right from the start and even though he rejected your feelings, you're still special to him."

She hold Ayumi's trembling shoulders. "I understand you. You're not alone. You are never alone, Ayumi-san!"

Ayumi whimpered as she suddenly felt warmth to what she just said.

But Kairi loves Nanase. Sooner or later, Kairi will leave me as well. He will! He will left me alone!

Nanase was about to hug her when Ayumi suddenly shouted. "Don't touch me!" She tried to struggle.

"Ayumi-san, please stop this! You are going to hurt yourself!"

Ayumi punched her arms. "I said get off me! Get. Off. Me!" She gasped loudly when she accidentally pushed Nanase so hard and soon, her body met the floor.

Nanase groaned in pain when she felt the excruciating pain from her back. She gritted her teeth. She could feel how the broken vase's shard pierced her flesh so deep.

Ayumi frighteningly stared down as Nanase squirmed on the floor and coughed out blood.

...to be continued.

#koi wa tsuzuku yo dokomademo #koitsudu #an incurable case of love #love last forever #nanase sakura #kairi tendo #fanfic #fanfiction #encounter part 2 #angst #fluff

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junmyeoneyesmile · 4 years

Text

you can’t stop the flood pt 3

summary:

en·e·my

/ˈenəmē/

noun

a person who is actively opposed or hostile to someone or something.

irene never thought one day she would live in the enemy’s side. but when a mission goes wrong and everything turns upside down, she wonders for what she was really fighting for.

(or, the one in which x-exo’s scientist irene falls in love with exo’s leader, junmyeon.)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

genre: obsession AU, EXO vs X-EXO, romance, slow burn, angst (with a happy ending?), fluff (maybe if you squint), smut (it’s here)

relationships: irene/junmyeon, past irene/sehůn, implied chanyeøl/wendy, side baekhyun/chanyeol, one sided taeyeon/baekhyun.

length: three shot

chapter word count: 10.096

author’s notes: finally, the last part! I thought about putting some warnings in this chapter (is thigh riding even a warning, tho) but in the end, I don’t think it’ll be needed 😂 even thought I would say that it’s definitely mature content, I don’t think it’s that explicit? well 😂

I really want to thank one of my best friends for being the beta reader for this fic, and also thank you to everybody who read it 💚 hope you all enjoy this chapter too!

p.s: at some point in this chapter, Junmyeon will play a song on the piano, and since I don’t want to give any spoilers, I’ll just leave the link for it here, so you guys can check it when you get there. (x)

The next day, Irene didn’t go to the cafeteria.

No one showed up to bring her breakfast, but the girl didn’t mind it – she wasn’t hungry. In truth, she wasn’t feeling good at all.

The night was really hard, and she barely got any sleep, her mind racing with thoughts. That morning she was especially on edge, thinking Junmyeon might come looking for her again - but he didn't show up.

That left Irene with a strange feeling, even when she kept telling herself she didn’t want him to come.

Around lunchtime, Taeyeon came to see how her leg was doing, and suggested that the two of them could go have lunch together. Irene had no excuse to deny that, and truth be told, she was starting to feel hungry. So, she just went with Taeyeon.

Probably because it was still early, EXO’s table was empty. Irene tried to pretend she wasn’t eating too fast, but still, she left the cafeteria as soon as she could. Irene had asked Taeyeon to use the lab that afternoon, to make some of the serum Jongin had asked her, and the doctor allowed it.

Being in a lab was something Irene was used to. It was familiar, and over there she could be practical again. It was a safe space for her.

She took her time while working, trying to do things at a slower pace than she used to. Still, that didn’t take long, and in less than an hour, Irene had finished it.

With no other options, she returned to her room. But Irene was feeling anxious, and after much consideration, in the end of the afternoon she decided to go out and take a walk.

On her way to the gardens, she passed the training ground, where Sehun and Jongin were practicing - and Junmyeon sat on the side, watching them.

Irene was going to keep walking, but Jongin saw her before she could leave.

“Noona!”

She waved awkwardly.

“Hey, Jongin.”

He left the ground, walking to her.

“People were saying you went to the lab, today.”

“Ah.” Of course, gossip spread quickly. “It’s true. I made the serum for you. When you want, you can go get it. I was going to tell you.”

Jongin smiled.

“Really? Thank you!” Irene nodded. “Hey, don’t you want to watch our practice?”

Irene glanced at Junmyeon.

“Hm, I don’t know, Jongin…”

“Come on, I’m sure you’ve never seen me in action from this close. I was beating Sehun.”

“No, you weren't!” Sehun protested, and Jongin gave a mischievous smile.

“Come on.”

Denying it right in front of them without a convincing reason was going to sound strange, and things were already weird with Junmyeon as they were. So she accepted, and went to sit a little further away.

But she could feel Junmyeon’s eyes on her.

Still, Irene tried to focus on the training that was taking place in front of her.

Jongin was holding a target, teleporting to different places in the field. Sehun followed him, shooting arrows to hit the target. He did it, but never in the middle.

It was obvious Jongin was focusing, but there was a playful smile on his lips, different from the wicked ones she was used to seeing in Kāi. Despite that, Irene was aware of how strong the boy was.

Somewhere in her mind, she remembered that it was Jongin who had broken Chanyeøl’s ribs that day.

“Hyung!” a different voice broke out on the training ground, and everyone turned to see Jongdae walking towards Junmyeon, his expression serious.

“What happened?” Junmyeon asked

“They’re attacking people at the border again. There’s a house on fire.”

“Where are Baekhyun and Chanyeol?”

“Already on their way.”

“Alright, go get the car.”

Irene observed their fast dynamics, Jongdae leaving followed by Sehun, who didn’t wait for orders. Junmyeon turned to Jongin.

“Go over there, but don’t attack. Wait at least for Baekhyun and Chanyeol.”

Jongin nodded, serious.

“Yes, hyung.” he said, and immediately disappeared, leaving Irene and Junmyeon alone.

They looked at each other. She wanted to say something, she really did, but the words got stuck on her throat.

Junmyeon didn't wait.

Irene continued to look at the door long after he left.

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

She had never felt that way before. Irene had never felt that sensation, that agony of waiting for someone.

She had lost all the people who were important to her at a very young age, so she never had to deal with attachment, with hoping, with worry, not for a long time. Irene only cared about herself.

And she was fine with that.

But as the hours passed and she waited for them to come back, Irene found herself in a place of complete despair – with her hands tied, she couldn’t do anything but wait.

The image of Junmyeon leaving played on repeat in her mind. The image of Junmyeon lying on the bed was burned in her retinas. The image of Junmyeon smiling at her, and the thought that if anything happened, she would never see him again.

And what was going on? How were they? Irene didn't have Chën's cameras there to follow the fight. She had nothing to do but worry and wait.

Wait.

That was crushing everything inside her, and the thoughts of what could be happening there were making her feel sick - because Irene knew what X-EXO was capable of.

She knew what their goal was.

Irene sat in the cafeteria until no one else was there, and she kept looking at her watch as the hours passed. And that devastating feeling never left.

It was well into the night when she heard the voices.

And Irene ran.

She ran through the halls, until she saw the six boys in front of her.

They were all there, dirty but appearing to have only minor injuries - Sehun was the only one who had to lean on Chanyeol.

Behind them, Junmyeon was looking at her. He had a cut on his eyebrow, but other than that, he was fine.

He was fine.

Irene wouldn’t know how to explain that feeling of relief. She wanted to go to him, wanted to hug him, to feel his touch and smell his skin.

But at the same time that all these feelings came to her, with them also came a realization.

She cared about him. God help her, she liked this man more than she would admit to herself.

But Irene knew what those feelings would bring. She was reminded of the pain, of how hard it hurt to lose someone she cared about. Irene promised herself to never get this close, to never feel too much.

Never.

That hit her harder than anything.

“Are you okay?” she heard Taeyeon’s voice, who had arrived there at some point.

“Yes, but Baëkhyun cut Sehun on the side of his stomach.” Chanyeol told her.

“I’m fine.” Sehun said

“Let's go to my office, I'll take care of it.”

Irene turned to the blonde.

“Let me go with you. I can help.”

The doctor seemed surprised.

“They all have minor injuries, but they need to be treated. I can help.” Irene continued.

Taeyeon didn't hesitate for long - probably because she needed the help.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

None of the boys complained, probably too tired for that even if they wanted to. Irene felt Junmyeon's eyes on her, but she didn't look at him as she followed Taeyeon to the medical floor.

There, she focused on what she did best. Irene took care of Jongin, Jongdae and Baekhyun, while Taeyeon stayed with the other three. Junmyeon kept trying to approach her, but she didn't give him an opening, focusing on the boys she was taking care of.

Irene knew she would fall apart if she talked to him at that moment.

When everything was finished, Irene finally looked around, but Junmyeon wasn’t in the room anymore. Taeyeon was still stitching up Sehun, but she said she could do it alone, and thanked Irene for her help.

So the girl left, going to her room, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Why was this happening to her? Why now?

And why him?

Everything was already too complicated as it was.

When she got to her room, Junmyeon was there - waiting for her at her door.

It was almost too much, just seeing him.

“You should be resting.” Irene said, trying to keep her composure.

Junmyeon kept looking at her, but didn’t answer. Irene tried to get past him to go into the bedroom, but he held her arm.

“What do you want?” she asked, trying to sound indifferent, but obviously failing.

“I want you to talk to me, Irene.”

The expression on his face was breaking her.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Irene said, her voice almost shaking.

“Then why were you waiting?”

“I wasn’t waitin-”

“You were waiting.” He interrupted her, resolute. “I saw your face when we got here.”

“I wasn’t.” she repeated, and now her voice was definitely shaking. “I wasn’t.”

“You’re lying.”

Irene tried to keep her head up.

“Believe what you want, Junmyeon.”

He frowned.

“Why do you keep acting like this? Why do you keep being distant, when I know that’s not what you want?”

Irene shook her head, not wanting to hear that, but he held her shoulders.

“Let me go, Junmyeon. I don’t… I don’t do this…”

“You don’t do what?”

“This!” she exploded, moving away from him. “I don't do this! I don't wait for anyone, I don't care about anyone! I only care about me! Because I only have myself!”

Her vision was getting blurry, and Irene hadn't noticed, but tears were already streaming down her face.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this again! Everyone... Everyone that I care about leaves. And I can’t...” she sobbed. “I can’t...”

Junmyeon moved, and in the next second, he was hugging her. She tried to pull away, without success.

“It’s all your fault.” she said, losing all her strength. “It’s all your fault…”

Junmyeon hugged her tighter, while she cried against his chest. He didn't ask anything, he didn't say anything. He just hugged her.

And in that moment, that was enough.

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

She was tired of running.

Her legs were hurting, her mouth was dry and her eyes burned because of the fine dust in the air.

Joohyun tripped and fell, but this time she didn’t get up. She had no strength left for anything, and there were no more tears to cry.

She wanted to go back, but now there was nowhere else to go.

She was alone.

The scorching sun was burning Joohyun’s skin, but she didn’t move. Maybe she could just stay there. It would be so easy to just give up. Joohyun wondered if when she died, she would meet her parents again.

In the midst of her delirium, a shadow stopped in front of her. Joohyun blinked slowly, thinking she was seeing things - but when she looked up, there was someone in front of her.

A man, dressed in bright red.

He knelt in front of her, and Joohyun saw that he was holding a bottle of water. She immediately started to move, and the man helped her sit down, giving her the bottle. Joohyun drank without hesitation, too thirsty to think about anything else.

“Are you feeling better now, Joohyun?”

She looked at him. Joohyun was sure she had never seen this man in her life.

“How do you know my name?”

“Red force knows everything.” he told her. “We’re going to help you.”

Help me?

Joohyun wasn’t expecting help. She wasn’t expecting anything, at this point.

But she was tired. Tired and scared. Joohyun didn’t want to run anymore.

So when that man held out his hand, she took it.

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

“Hey, noona! Sit here with us!”

Irene looked at EXO’s table, where Jongin was waving at her. Everybody was there, except for Junmyeon, which was strange. She hesitated.

“We have an extra chair, today.” Jongdae said, surprising her.

Irene looked at the other boys, but none of them seemed against it. Not even Chanyeol, who just kept eating his rice. So she approached the table and sat next to Jongin.

“Thank you.” Irene said, when he moved away so that she had more space. “How are you?” she asked. Jongin only had been cut on his forearm, but he didn't need stitches.

“I’m fine. The scar’s almost gone.”

“We’re all very thankful for your help last night.” Baekhyun said. “I know we’re a lot of work to Taeyeon noona.”

Irene shook her head.

“It’s nothing.”

After that, the boys got into other conversations, and she tried to not get in the way while eating her breakfast – until Sehun asked where Junmyeon was.

“He had to leave for a meeting earlier this morning.” explained Jongdae. “Because of yesterday.”

Irene wanted to ask when he was coming back, but stopped herself – and kept eating as if she hadn't heard anything.

That morning, Taeyeon had asked her if she could help with the work on the medical floor. Apparently, it was checkup day with the people who lived at Elyxion, and one of the nurses was sick, so she couldn’t help. Obviously Irene accepted, and the two spent most of the day in Taeyeon’s office.

Of course that didn’t stop her from thinking about Junmyeon.

Irene thought that occupying her mind would be easy if she was busy, but anytime she had a free time, he came to her head. The night before, after she had stopped crying, Junmyeon took her to the bedroom, and waited by the bed until she fell asleep. Maybe Irene was too tired - mostly emotionally - because that didn't take long.

When she woke up, the memories of the night before were very vivid on her mind. The warmth of Junmyeon’s embrace, the scent of his body. Thinking about it was enough to keep her calm.

Junmyeon was soft – he was very soft, where Irene was all rough. So even though she was afraid of herself, of where those feelings would take her, she was also afraid for him. Afraid she would taint him.

All of this was very foreign to Irene. Caring about someone more than she cared about herself. Wanting someone to be okay, despite all things. But with Junmyeon, it was like that. And she was starting to see she couldn’t change that.

In the late afternoon, when Irene was leaving the medical floor to go to her room, she met Junmyeon in the hall. The two stopped, looking at each other for a moment.

“There’s a place I wanted to show you.” he told her. “Can you come with me?”

Irene nodded, slowly.

Junmyeon led the way, and Irene followed him to a part of the building that she had never seen before. There was a flight of stairs almost hidden, and the two went up to the rooftop.

The place wasn’t as high as the roof she used to stay on the Exo'rdium, but they had a good view of the entire Elyxion compound over there, and a little bit of the city. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning orange.

Junmyeon guided her to a safe spot, where they sat side by side.

“I like to come here.” he said. “But I almost don’t have any free time, so it’s been a while.”

Irene watched the sun setting.

“I had a place like this that I liked to go, too.” She thought about the Exo’rdium. It seemed so far away, now.

They were silent for some time. Irene looked at Junmyeon, and then down to her hands.

“I’m sorry.” Junmyeon looked at her, and she had to look back. “About yesterday. All those things I said. I just…” Irene closed her eyes for a moment. “I was scared.”

Admitting that was probably one of the most difficult things she had ever done. Junmyeon didn’t judge her.

“Of me?” he asked, and Irene shook her head.

“No. Of feeling again.”

It was clear Junmyeon wouldn’t understand that, so Irene gathered all her strength, continuing.

“My parents died when I was young. It was in one of the attacks of the war, before the borders were delimited.” she stopped for a second, because it was hard. It was so hard to talk about that. “I had nowhere to go, but this agent from the Red Force found me. They gave me shelter, food, clothes, education. They told me I was going to work for a bigger purpose. So I just dedicated myself to that.”

Irene looked at Junmyeon, and she really didn’t want to cry again, but she discovered that was impossible.

“I had nobody but myself, Junmyeon. And it was easier that way. It is easier that way.”

He watched her for a while, before turning to the landscape in front of them. They could see the garden from there, and some children were playing on the grass.

“When I was young, these people came and took me and these boys to a lab, to be experimented on.” he started. “Those were the hardest days of my life, and I don't think I would’ve made it if I were there alone.” Junmyeon paused. “But the thing is, I wasn’t. We had each other. When we managed to get out of there, we knew it was going to be a difficult path. But we kept going, because we could count on each other. Even though it was difficult, and even though it might hurt, it was still worth it.” Junmyeon looked at her. “It is still worth feeling, Irene. I can’t guarantee you it will be easy. But it will be enough.”

Irene blinked her tears away, her breath heavy. Junmyeon held her face, stroking her cheek.

“I will never regret bringing you here.” he told her. “I will nev-”

She knew that if he kept talking, she would fall apart – so Irene leaned forward, and kissed him.

It was like being shocked, the sensation too much for her body. She was holding the collar of his vest with so much force, trying to keep herself straight. Junmyeon embraced her waist, bringing her closer, and that was all the support Irene needed.

She felt like she was drowning and Junmyeon was saving her, as ironic as that sounded.

His lips were soft.

It was Junmyeon the one to deepen their kiss, spreading her lips apart with his own - moving his tongue in a slow rhythm that Irene could do nothing but follow.

It was already too much and not enough at the same time.

Junmyeon moved a hand to her arm, slowly going up to her shoulders, then down to her waist again, and it was like he left a trail of fire in her skin. Her heart was beating so fast she felt lightheaded.

He pulled away, just enough their lips weren’t touching anymore, and leaned his forehead against hers. Irene was still holding his collar, eyes closed.

“I won’t force anything on you.” he told her, and she felt his breath on her face. “But I do like you, Irene. Very much.”

I like you.

She opened her eyes, looked at him – at his soft lips, his warm eyes. This feeling of trust was so foreign to her, but with Junmyeon’s arms around her like that, Irene couldn’t ignore how she felt, too.

So she nodded, feeling the tears fall again, and pressed her lips to his one more time.

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

The next day, Irene sat on EXO’S table again.

It felt easier, and it was a lot more natural – especially because Junmyeon was there, too. They weren’t acting different or anything, but the mood was obviously lighter. And Irene definitely felt more relaxed, with him by her side.

“Jongin, do you want to train, today?” Sehun asked, at some point in their conversation.

The green-haired boy shook his head, swallowing his food.

“I can’t, I’ll make some deliveries with Junmyeon hyung, today.”

“Is it today? I didn’t remember.” Sehun said, seeming a bit upset.

Deliveries? Irene looked at Junmyeon, slightly curious.

“We’re going to deliver supplies and medicines to the village today.” He explained.

“Ah…”

“Noona, you should come too!” Jongin told her.

Irene hesitated.

“I…”

“It would be nice.” Junmyeon said. She looked at him, and he was smiling lightly, making her heart beat faster.

The other boys were looking at them, and Junmyeon cleared his throat.

“They may need a doctor, and Taeyeon is busy today.” he added, like he was trying to explain himself. It was kind of cute.

“I have to train my reflexes...” Sehun mumbled, still not resigned.

“I’ll train with you.” Baekhyun told him.

“Really? Ah, hyung, thank you!”

“What, you’re going to risk being cut again?” Chanyeol asked Baekhyun, but his tone wasn’t really serious.

“Hey. If I managed to cut him that means I’m pretty good, right?” Sehun asked.

“Not if your purpose is hitting the target.”

“Don’t be like this, Channie.” Baekhyun said. “I was taking it easy on him that day.”

Sehun protested, and the two continued to tease each other, but in a fun way. The rest of the table was laughing, and Irene looked at Junmyeon. His eyes turned to half moons when he smiled like that.

She could see in his expression, how important those boys were to him. Irene was too used to the X-EXO motto - one are we - with everyone just caring about themselves and doing things only thinking about what they’d gain from it. Here, things were different.

Those boys were united by their friendship. By what they lived together, and by the strength they could give to each other. Junmyeon’s words from the night before were still strong on her mind.

“It is still worth feeling, Irene. I can’t guarantee you it will be easy. But it will be enough.”

And even when all of that was so different to her, Irene was starting to understand it.

She was a little anxious about leaving the Elyxion, she wouldn’t lie about that. In truth, Irene didn't know how people would react to her presence, but she tried to ignore that feeling - there was no way anyone could know she used to work for the Red Force.

She, Junmyeon and Jongin took a car, leaving the compound surroundings. The ride wasn’t long, and in about fifteen minutes, Irene could already see some houses in the village.

In the Exo’rdium, they knew that village existed. Because it was located so close to the Elyxion, people from there were more protected, since X-EXO couldn’t trespass the borders easily. That was something the Red Force didn’t bother to do, because protecting people definitely wasn’t their priority.

When the car entered the place, people were already approaching. Junmyeon stopped, and all of them seemed happy to see the boys there. Irene didn't know what to do, but she got out of the car with them. Of course people were looking, but no one seemed too upset by her presence there.

They had brought medicine and supplies, and Irene helped the two men unload the truck and distribute everything. People seemed very grateful, always giving thanks with smiles on their faces.

Irene wasn’t used to that.

When Junmyeon told them she was a doctor, Irene was a little taken aback by that. But some people approached her, to be examined, and she tried to pay attention to them. Just in case, she had brought some things from Taeyeon’s office, and it was very useful.

“You should take the medicine I gave your mom, alright?” she was telling a little girl, who was the last one in line.

“Okay.” the girl said, and looked at her before asking. “Are you Junmyeon’s oppa girlfriend?”

Irene couldn’t help but blush at that. When she looked at him, Junmyeon was smiling a little.

“She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” He asked the little girl, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! I already like you a lot, unnie!” she said, before suddenly hugging Irene. The woman couldn’t move, surprised. “You’ll come here again, right?”

Irene didn’t answer, still taken aback, but Junmyeon brushed the girl’s hair and smiled.

“Yes, we’ll come again. Now go and obey your mom, alright?”

“Yes, oppa! Goodbye!”

They watched as the girl left, and then Irene looked at Junmyeon.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

She had to smile at that, shaking her head.

After they collected the things she had brought, Junmyeon suggested they could take a walk. Jongin was playing with some kids, teleporting to different places and making them laugh.

“He’s the one that likes to come here the most.” Junmyeon told her. “Jongin has a very pure heart.”

Irene couldn’t deny that.

“He has.” she said, and looked at Junmyeon. “It’s… It’s very nice, what you guys are doing for these people here.”

He nodded.

“I wish we could get everyone off the border, but we don't have enough space here. Some people also don't want to come.”

Irene knew why. Even though Red Force didn’t help them completely, they would give money to some families, so that they would send their children to study and in the future, work on the Exo’rdium.

They continued to walk, and Irene saw an old couple sitting together on a bench. Suddenly, Junmyeon took her hand, and she looked at him.

“Some of the people who don’t want to work at the Elyxion live here.” he told her. “They have a peaceful life, start a family. I always wondered what that would be like, too.”

In the Exo’rdium, it was a clear fact that X-EXO was created for a purpose, and their life would always be closed to that. But it never came into her mind how that was true to EXO, too. Junmyeon would probably never live a peaceful life as long as that war continued. The thought made her heart ache.

She intertwined her fingers with his, and Junmyeon looked at her.

“It's a nice thought.” she said, and when he smiled at her, Irene couldn't help but do the same.

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

“Your leg is completely healed.”

Irene looked at the blonde woman in front of her. Taeyeon had come to her room after dinner, to do a checkup. They hadn’t seen each other all day, busy with their own things.

“Yes, thank you. You helped me a lot.”

Taeyeon shook her head.

“You were a very good patient, actually. You followed all my recommendations, did the exercises... The credit is yours.” She left the clipboard aside. “I don’t think I’ll need to make these daily visits anymore.”

“I won't take your time.”

The doctor smiled.

“Listen, your help on the medical floor these days was very useful. If you want, you can still come.”

Irene nodded, thinking that it would be nice, too.

“I will.”

“Alright. Ah.” Taeyeon said, seeming to think of something. “I heard you went to the village with Junmyeon and Jongin, today.”

Words did travel fast, in this place.

“Yeah, I went to help them.”

Taeyeon hesitated, like she wanted to say something else.

“It seems that Junmyeon really likes… Your help, over here.” She finally said. “He's everybody's strength in this place. It's good to see him too, relying on someone.”

Irene was a little taken aback. Taeyeon didn't seem like the type to gossip - but really, that wasn’t gossip. She was just being honest.

So Irene smiled a little, looking at her.

“He’s a nice man.”

Taeyeon seemed satisfied to hear that.

“Well, I'll let you rest. See you tomorrow?”

She nodded, watching the doctor leave the room.

As Taeyeon left, Irene wondered if the doctor was intuitive, or if she and Junmyeon were being obvious. It didn't seem like it, but truth be told, they weren't really trying that hard.

Jongin had seen the two of them holding hands in the village, but they let go quickly, and the boy didn't comment on that. At dinner, Junmyeon kept talking to her, not caring about the looks from the others, and that made Irene not care about it either.

She realized she liked it when he paid attention to her - when he smiled at something she said and the dimples in his face appeared; or when his arm touched hers while they talked.

When they said goodbye in the cafeteria, Irene almost didn't want to leave, and now her mind was going back to that kiss from the night before. It was almost insane how much she wanted to feel it again.

The thoughts didn’t let her sleep.

Everytime Irene closed her eyes, she could see Junmyeon’s eyes, hidden behind his bangs; Junmyeon’s lips, red from their kissing. She could feel the fire of his touch and the taste of his mouth.

Irene sat on the bed, feeling restless. She wanted to see him, but it was well into the night. Would he be awake? She remembered a conversation she had with Jongin, who told her their rooms were not far from there, just three halls away.

It wouldn’t do any bad, right? She was going there just to talk.

Irene debated about that for another half hour, before deciding that she couldn’t stay there doing nothing anymore - and left the room towards the EXO hall.

It wasn’t hard to find it, which was good. If she met someone on the way, Irene definitely wouldn't be able to explain what she was going to do.

The hall had six doors, and for a moment she was alarmed, thinking that she wouldn't know which room was his. But then Irene paid attention, and there was each boy's name on the doors.

She stopped in front of Junmyeon's door, hesitating. But she had come all this way, it would be stupid to give up now. She just wanted to see him for a while. And he’d already gone to her room so many times... It wouldn't hurt.

Taking a breath, she knocked on the door.

No one answered, and Irene was already thinking that maybe he wasn't there, when Junmyeon opened the door.

“Irene?” he said, surprised.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. Junmyeon was wearing nothing but sweatpants, wet hair dripping over his chest.

“Hi.” she managed to say, feeling stupid. “This is really inconvenient, right? I came here because… I just…”

“It’s alright.” Junmyeon told her. “Do you want to come in?”

“Ah… I…” Irene stopped, getting a grip of herself. “Alright.”

Junmyeon moved from the door, and she entered the room.

The place was very simple, but entirely like him. There were several pictures scattered around, most of them with the EXO members. In addition to the bed, he had a desk, a piano in the corner of the room and a bookcase filled with books.

“You're probably thinking that I'm an old man, aren't you?” he said, wearing a simple shirt.

Irene came closer to the bookcase, looking at the books.

“No. I… I like to read, too. But I think my collection isn’t that diverse.”

“My parents had a bookstore.” he explained. “These are some of the books that I managed to save.”

She took one from the bookcase, looking at the cover.

“You can take some more if you want. I was going to bring it for you, anyway.”

Irene looked at him.

“I will. But I won’t stay with them forever, just lend them to me.”

Junmyeon nodded, getting close to her.

“May I?” He asked, referring to the book she was holding. Irene handed it over, and he flipped through the pages, seeming to look for something.

He finally stopped when he found a dry lavender flower among the pages.

“I’ve put it here a long time ago.” he said. “I didn't remember that until I saw you with the book.”

Irene looked at the flower. Maybe she was imagining things, but it still had a little smell. And how ironic it was, that flower being there. The poem from the book came to her mind.

“Bring me warm rain, and lavender, and you.” Irene recited. “I want you, most of all.”

She looked at the side, to Junmyeon – and he was already looking at her.

Irene didn't know what had brought them together. Maybe it was fate, if she believed that. But at that moment, it felt like the right thing, to be here with him.

She reached out, touching his face, and Junmyeon closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He was so perfect. Irene moved her fingertips across his eyelids, his nose, to his lips. She traced his lower lip, and Junmyeon dropped the book on the floor, holding her wrist.

He had his eyes open now, fixed on Irene. Junmyeon kissed her fingertips, the palm of her hand, the inside of her wrist. His mouth was hot, and every time he breathed on her skin, Irene shivered.

Junmyeon brought her a little closer, to put his other arm around her waist, and then he leaned down to finally - finally - kiss her.

Irene wondered if she would ever get used to it, to his kiss. It makes her mind go blank, and she can't think of anything but the way his mouth moves against hers. Junmyeon licks her mouth, tasting her, angling his head to deepen the kiss - and Irene has to hold his shirt to stop trembling so much.

“Are you ok?” Junmyeon murmurs against her lips.

Her breath is heavy, and she doesn’t really know the answer to that question. Irene isn’t used to this, she isn’t used to all those feelings. It scares her, but she doesn’t want it to stop. So she nods, kissing him again.

They move in the room, until Junmyeon’s back hits his desk. He’s half sitting on it, and they stop to look at each other for a moment. Irene reaches her hand to his still damp hair, and brushes it out of his eyes. He never stops looking at her, his hands touching her waist.

Irene gets closer, pulls his hair lightly, and Junmyeon pliantly follows the movement, exposing his neck – so she leans forward, pressing her lips to his jaw.

Junmyeon’s skin is still damp, too. He’s warm, and yes, he smells like damn lavender, tastes so sweet, and when he moans, Irene thinks she’s going to lose her mind.

Without thinking about it, she grinds against his thigh, which is in the middle of her legs. Even though there are several layers of fabric between them, it feels good – so she does it again, because she needs it. Junmyeon seems to notice, and presses his leg up, which increases the pressure.

Irene moans, unable to pay attention to what she was doing before. She’s burying her nails on his shoulders, hiding her face on the crook of his neck because again, all of this is too much, and at the same time, not enough.

“It’s ok” Junmyeon tells her, encouraging her to keep going; his hands on her hips, but not interfering in the way she rides his thigh.

Irene is panting, moving almost desperately. She wants it so much, she wants it-

Junmyeon kisses her, swallowing all the pathetic sounds she’s making, thigh going up again, intensifying the pressure – and yes, now it’s too much, she feels lightheaded, warm all over.

“Please” she begs, not even sure to what.

“Come” Junmyeon says, pulls her lower lip between his teeth, and Irene comes - the whole room going white, for a second.

She doesn’t know for how long she stays still, Junmyeon holding her the only thing stopping her from falling. Her breath is slowly getting steady, but her body is still trembling a little.

Irene raises her head facing Junmyeon. His pupils are blown and his lips are pink and swollen, voice hoarse with arousal.

“Irene...”

She lets him kiss her again. Lets him move again until the back of her knees hit the bed and she falls on it, landing on her back as Junmyeon climbs on top, their lips still connected. Irene is getting warm again, and there’s too many clothes between them - she wants them all off.

Junmyeon seems to read her thoughts and takes off his shirt, so she does the same. It wasn’t like she was wearing nice underwear, the white bra too simple, but she had no option but to use what they were giving her there. But it was not like any of that mattered in that moment, anyway.

When she threw her shirt on the floor, Junmyeon was already shirtless, and Irene could really look at him, now. Again, he was perfect. She touches his chest, lets her hands go down until they’re on the waistband of his sweatpants, and looks at him.

Junmyeon drops his hands away, lets her take over. When she touches him, he closes his eyes. As Irene works on him, he tries to go back to kiss her – but can’t, too far gone. Junmyeon presses his forehead to her shoulder, and grabs her hips.

“I don’t-” He tries to say, but jerks his hips, thrusting up. He holds her hands, stopping her for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting... I don’t have-”

“It’s ok.” Irene tells him, a little breathless. “They give us shots, at the Exo’rdium. I’m good for this month.” her face flushes only slightly, and Junmyeon understands.

He slowly goes back to kiss her, and Irene lets her hands rest on Junmyeon’s shoulder blades as he kisses his way across her chest, over her bra. She arches her back, and he unclasps it in one try. His mouth on her making Irene roll her head back, too aroused all over again.

She moves, attempting to take off her own pants and underwear, and when Junmyeon notices it, he helps her, doing the same not long after. When he goes back to her, it’s all skin on skin, and they look at each other, feeling the depth of the moment.

Irene didn’t know she was looking for that until now. Until she found him.

She couldn’t explain the feeling of having him inside her, of sharing that moment with him. Junmyeon was moving, murmuring something to her, but she couldn’t hear him, she couldn’t do anything but feel.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, kissed his mouth, his neck, intertwined her fingers on his hair, all in half-lust, half-gratitude. Junmyeon was breathing heavy by her ear, and Irene loved listening to his voice more than anything.

The pressure inside of her started to build, and every touch of his hands on her body were taking her closer to the stars, again.

Irene was entirely his, now.

She came first, moaning his name – and that was enough to make Junmyeon get his release, too.

He stays on top of her for a moment, but Irene enjoys the weight of his body, feeling his heartbeat and his breath steadying slowly. Junmyeon presses a sweet kiss to her neck, before he pulls himself back.

Irene lies on her side, looking at him. Junmyeon gives her a tired smile, and reaches out to brush the hair out of her face.

He doesn't say anything, and really, he doesn't have to. The way Junmyeon looks at her says everything his voice doesn't say.

Her heart warms at that. She approaches him, kissing him lightly, and Junmyeon passes a hand around her waist, keeping her close.

Irene never thought she would feel that way. But in such an unexpected place, with someone so unexpected, there she was. Completely enticed by him, and she knew there was no going back.

Junmyeon had closed his eyes, and she watched him for some time before deciding to speak.

“I wanted to tell you something.” Irene said, and he opened his eyes slowly.

“Hm?”

Irene hesitated a little, but not because of him. Because of her, and everything she was keeping inside. She was digging very deeply, now.

“I… My name’s not Irene.”

Junmyeon frowned.

“Not my real name, at least.” She paused. “Before I went to the Exo’rdium and they gave me this name, I was Joohyun.”

His expression softens, and Junmyeon smiles lightly.

“Joohyun?”

“Bae Joohyun.”

“It is a beautiful name.” he stroked her cheek. “Do you want me to call you like this?”

Irene shook her head without hesitation.

“No.” she says, sincerely. “I'm not her anymore. For a long time now.”

Bae Joohyun was an innocent little girl, who had many dreams and felt a lot of love. She had died in that explosion, too. But even if Irene no longer wanted to remember her, the girl’s memory still lived in the woman's body.

“Despite that, I wanted to tell you this.”

Junmyeon nodded, pulling her a little closer, and Irene leaned her head against his chest.

“Thank you for telling me.”

She feels at peace with that. Telling it to Junmyeon felt right, because she wanted to be honest with him. She wanted him to know everything.

And for now, that was enough.

Feeling the heat of his body and the calm beat of his heart, Irene fell asleep.

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

They didn’t really mean to tell anyone about their relationship, for some time. It was still something new, and they wanted to get closer slowly. But that turned out to be impossible, when Baekhyun saw Irene leaving Junmyeon’s room that morning.

Word got out, and when they came to eat breakfast in the cafeteria, all the boys in the EXO table threw some knowing glances at them. No one said anything direct, of course, but Jongin seemed very happy, and Baekhyun kept saying suggestive things, which even made Chanyeol pinch his waist.

Irene didn’t really care about it, but Junmyeon seemed a little embarrassed, and she noticed she actually liked seeing his flushed cheeks every time he looked away.

After eating, she went to help Taeyeon in the lab, as promised. The doctor was making some medicine that was needed, and Irene helped her with the formulas.

“Did you develop them?” she asked, and Taeyeon nodded.

“I don’t have much study in chemistry, but I think it’s general knowledge what some plants can do. I asked the chemists for some help here, and managed to make the formulas.”

“They seem very well done. I would like to see how they work.”

Taeyeon shook her head.

“I'm sure you know a lot more than I do. Here we can't get even close to that burn serum you made.”

Irene looked at the bottle in her hands. Sometimes, she forgot that the Elyxion didn't have the same technologies available to them on the Exo’rdium.

“I can give you the recipe, if you want. I also know some others, but I'm not sure of all the formulas, we may need to do some tests.”

Taeyeon looked at her.

“That would be nice.” she says, but then pauses for a second. “Do you really want to do this? I don't want you to think that I'm trying to get that kind of information.”

That still seemed strange, to Irene, the fact they hadn't forced her to say everything she knew. If the situation were the opposite, she was sure that the Red Force wouldn’t be so friendly.

But in this place, things were different.

She nodded, closing the bottle she was holding.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

When they left the lab together later, they passed the training center, where Jongdae and Junmyeon were training. Irene only saw them fighting behind Chën’s cameras, never up close. It was actually amazing, seeing them in action like this.

The two men didn’t appear to be fighting each other, but trying to combine their powers. The water intensified the lightning's power, making a more powerful attack. She was distant, but her skin still prickled.

Irene was used to seeing fights, to seeing those powers in action, always following the development of all X-EXO. But these men were the originals. The way they controlled what they had seemed a lot more natural, a lot less angry. And not long ago, she was doing her best to make them die.

That thought seemed so strange in her mind now, that it didn’t make sense. But it was true, wasn't it? She had studied, trained for that. Everything she developed, every minute of her day was dedicated to making X-EXO better, so they could win and destroy their originals. It was the purpose she had in life. And now what did she have?

Irene's heart was already Junmyeon's, she was completely given to him, she couldn't imagine him being hurt. But she cared for the others, too. Jongin's boyish smile, Jongdae's kindness, Sehun's determination, the love between Baekhyun and Chanyeol. She wanted to keep seeing all of that.

But how? She was in the middle of that war now, which in reality, had no middle. Irene would have to choose, and she knew it.

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

“What are you thinking about?”

Irene looked at Junmyeon. They were lying in his bed that night, arms around each other.

She had a lot of things in her mind, but it wasn’t worth telling him now.

“Not much.” she tells him.

“You spent all day in the lab with Taeyeon. Aren’t you tired?”

“A little.” Irene pauses. “I saw you training with Jongdae, today.”

Junmyeon seems surprised.

“Really? Why didn’t you talk to us?”

“I didn't want to disturb. You seemed quite focused.”

“We were training some new things.” Junmyeon explains to her. “Sometimes it’s better to combine our powers than to work alone.”

“We are one, right?” she recites their motto, and he smiles.

“Right.” Junmyeon kisses her forehead, before moving away to sit on the bed.

Irene watches him pick up his sweatpants on the floor and put them on, before heading to the bathroom. She also sits on the bed, picking up his shirt on the floor to put on, because the room is a little cold. It's a little big for her and it smells like him - Irene loves it.

While she ties her hair in a bun on top of her head, she looks at the piano in the corner of the room. It’s closed, looking a little old. Junmyeon comes out of the bathroom, and follows her gaze.

“Do you play?” Irene asks him.

He makes a face.

“Not much.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“So why do you have a piano in your room?”

Junmyeon gets closer to the bed.

“I learned it when I was little, my mother used to play. These are the only things I have from our old house, this piano and the books.”

Irene kneels on the bed, holding his hands.

“Will you play for me?”

Junmyeon hesitates, but in the end nods, going to the other side of the room. Irene gets up and leans against the desk to watch him up close.

He opens the piano, wiping off some of the dust on the keys. He doesn't start playing immediately, and Irene wonders if Junmyeon also has painful memories, like hers.

Of course he has. Probably more.

Junmyeon starts slowly, with one hand - the sound calm, peaceful. It gets faster eventually, but not enough to break the flow of the song.

It’s beautiful, and sad. Irene feels it deep in her heart.

When Junmyeon finishes, his fingers are shaking a little bit, Irene can see. She approaches him, hugging him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. Junmyeon touches her arm.

“It was beautiful.” she tells him, and he turns his face to look at her.

Irene sits on the piano bench next to him, watching as Junmyeon holds her hands.

“Can you promise me something, Irene?”

She feels tightness in her chest, but doesn't deny it.

“No matter what happens, remember this. Remember that what I feel for you is real. And it will always be.”

Irene doesn't say anything, her breath caught in her throat - she doesn't want to cry, right now. So she nods, leaning down to kiss him.

“I promise.” She says against his lips, feeling the tightness in her chest increase. “I promise.”

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

The next morning, all hell broke out.

They were eating breakfast together, laughing at how Chanyeol was insisting on saying that Jongdae had cheated in their chess game. Jongin, Sehun and Baekhyun were spurring all the teasing, while Junmyeon smiled, trying to appease the situation, one arm resting on Irene's shoulder - and she had never been happy like that.

Until a siren sounded in the cafeteria, and everyone's expression changed.

“X-EXO TRESPASSED THE BORDER. THEY ARE GETTING CLOSE TO THE ELYXION.”

“Jongdae, go get the car.” Junmyeon instructed immediately. “Baekhyun, you go ahead with Jongin, stop what you can. Take Chanyeol with you.”

Everyone moved to do as they were told, and Irene held Junmyeon's arm, a concerned expression on her face.

“Junmyeon.”

He held her face and smiled, reassuring.

“It's all right. We'll be fine.” He kissed her quickly, before walking away. “Come on, Sehun.”

Irene watched helplessly as the two men left the scene.

Again, she was left alone, waiting.

Again, Irene felt useless, unable to do anything.

But couldn't she?

Would she stay the rest of her life hidden in the Elyxion, pretending that there were no things she needed to deal with?

No, she wouldn't do that. She couldn't do that.

Irene ran up to the medical floor, looking for Taeyeon. She found the doctor talking to one of the nurses in the hall, and interrupted them without apologizing.

“I need to talk to you, Taeyeon.”

It probably sounded urgent, because Taeyeon dismissed the nurse and looked at her.

“What is it?”

“The boys went out. They went out for a fight with X-EXO.”

“Yes, I heard the siren...”

“I have to go there.”

Taeyeon frowned.

“What?”

“I have to go there, Taeyeon. And you need to help me, because I don't have a pass card for the garage.”

The doctor shook her head.

“Are you insane? You can't go to a battlefield...”

“Listen to me, Taeyeon. I have to go there. I can't stay here hiding anymore, I have to go talk to him-”

“With who? X-EXO?” When she didn't answer, Taeyeon looked incredulous. “That's impossible.”

“It's not impossible for me. I have to try. For Junmyeon. For Baekhyun.” Taeyeon's expression turned serious, and Irene continued. “For all of them. Please, you have to help me.”

Taeyeon was still serious, and didn’t seem sure of that, but she closed her eyes and sighed.

“Wait for me by the elevator in the end of the hall.”

Irene nodded, leaving.

She knew they didn't have time, and with each passing moment, Irene became more restless.

Taeyeon didn’t take long to appear, without her lab coat and wearing a simple shirt and pants, like the ones Irene wore. She pressed the elevator button and the two entered, the doctor placing the pass card on the elevator reader.

“I’ll drive.” she told Irene. “If you’re driving they won’t let you leave the compound.”

Irene was a little surprised that Taeyeon wanted to go. But she didn’t say anything, just anxious for them to leave.

Taeyeon took the key to one of the trucks, and the two got in, driving to the exit. The guards at the exit stopped the car, but when they saw Taeyeon driving, they let her pass.

And then she sped up.

If X-EXO had already crossed the border, Irene knew they wouldn't be far from there - but even so, the ten minutes they drove seemed much longer. From afar, there were already signs of the battle.

When they were able to see the men fighting, Taeyeon stopped the car, and Irene opened the door to get out.

“Wait!” the woman held her arm. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going there.”

“And what, just get in the middle of the fight? This is crazy, Irene!”

Irene looked at her.

“I've been there, believe me. Stay here, keep an eye on anyone in need of assistance.” and without waiting for a response from the doctor, she ran.

There was already a lot of smoke in the place, and Irene walked between the wreckage of the buildings, careful to not be noticed. Explosions were taking place near her, and a thunder cleared the sky.

Hidden, Irene watched the fight scene. Not far from her, Chanyeol was fighting Baëkhyun, but her eyes immediately found Junmyeon, who was having a one-on-one dispute with Suhø. Approaching behind them, Sehůn was coming, and was ready to attack, she could see.

He was going to get Junmyeon while he was distracted by Suhø.

Irene couldn't let that happen.

She ran, entering the battlefield.

“Sehůn!”

There was a lot of noise in the place, but he could hear her - she knew. The man turned, looking at her.

He looked genuinely shocked.

“Irene...”

“Stop it, Sehůn. Stop this fight.”

The man came over, holding her arms.

“You’re alive.”

She took a breath.

“Yes.”

Sehůn frowned in disbelief.

“How? We thought you were dead, but we never found your body...”

“Irene!” Junmyeon shouted from where he was.

The two looked to the side, at Junmyeon's worried face, and Sehůn's expression started to change with recognition.

“Were you with them?”

“Sehůn, listen to me...”

“Were you with them?” Sehůn shouted, shaking her, but suddenly he was no longer there, being thrown away.

Junmyeon was in front of her, holding her face.

“Are you okay?”

Irene nodded, out of breath - but then Sehůn was already coming towards them, pushing Junmyeon. She screamed, falling to the floor.

“Well, well, well.” she heard a voice, and saw Suhø beside her. “Who would know? And I thought your type was Sehůn.” He gave a half smile, his blue eyes glinting. Suhø held her chin, turning Irene's face to speak in her ear. “You didn't have to go that far, Irene. You just needed to ask me.”

She shuddered, trying to get away from him, but Suhø held her face tighter.

“Things will be very interesting when we get back.”

A fireball came towards them, and Suhø had to move away to defend himself with water. Irene took the opportunity to run, but hit someone in the chest, who held her.

“Noona.” Jongin said, and she felt relief. He had a cut on his neck that was bleeding. “What are you doing here?”

Irene looked at the direction of the battlefield, where Sehůn and Junmyeon were still fighting.

“I need to go there.”

Jongin held her arm.

“You can’t. Junmyeon hyung asked me to take you back.”

Irene looked at him.

“Jongin, please. Sehůn...” She stopped, seeing a drone fly over them. “Jongin, get out of here now.”

“What?”

“Jongin-”

It was too fast, the way he was thrown away. Suddenly, Kāi was on top of the boy, but Jongin was managing to defend himself, their fight invisible to the human eye.

Irene ran again, to where Sehůn and Junmyeon were.

“Sehůn!”

“Get out of here!” Junmyeon shouted at her, but Irene continued.

“You won’t win this! Nobody will win this!”

Junmyeon ran towards her, holding her by the waist so she wouldn't get any closer. Sehůn stayed where he was.

“You changed your beliefs that fast, after being with them?”

“I didn't go there because I wanted to.” she said. “You left me to die...”

“We didn’t! We didn't know you were alive!”

“Baëkhyun knew it! He told me he would come back, but he never came.”

Sehůn frowned.

“Chën's cameras captured the thunder and the explosion in that building. There was no way anyone would survive that.”

“But I did. I survived, and they saved me.” He didn’t say anything, so Irene continued. “It doesn't have to be like this, Sehůn. You don't have to fight each other…”

“And then what? Let’s live happily ever after?” His expression was dark. “I can’t. I won’t. We’re going to destroy every single one of them, and anyone that gets in the way.”

“Sehůn...”

But he was no longer listening to her, starting a hurricane with his wind. Baekhyun, who was closer, tried to stop him, but a piece of steel coming from the hurricane hit his head, and the silver-haired boy fell on the floor unconscious.

“We have to go, now!” Junmyeon shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, pulling Irene as he ran. She tried to look back.

“But Baekhyun...”

“Jongin already got him.” Junmyeon said, and she hadn't seen when, but it was true.

As they ran back to the car, Sehůn's hurricane got bigger, and Irene realized at that moment, that there was nothing she could do to change that situation.

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

The halls were silent.

It was a stark difference to all the noise they heard earlier, and Irene’s ears still hadn’t got used to that.

She stopped in front of the window of the room that Baekhyun was in, on the medical floor. He was lying on the bed, still unconscious, and Chanyeol hadn’t left his side since they arrived. Taeyeon was there too, keeping her distance, but her eyes never left the boy in the bed.

Irene closed her eyes for a second.

Maybe, if she hadn't gone, none of this would’ve happened. She thought she could’ve done something to help, but in the end, that situation was way beyond her hands.

After they left, X-EXO also withdrew, with many members injured to continue moving forward. But Sehůn's hurricane had left a trail of destruction in its path.

Irene left the hall, going to the roof. It was already dark, and all the lights she could see came from the compound. In the surroundings, everything was complete darkness.

“And then what? Let’s live happily ever after? I can’t. I won’t. We’re going to destroy every single one of them, and anyone that gets in the way.”

Sehůn's words continued to echo in her mind throughout the day.

Somehow, he was right. They couldn't stop it now, they had gone too far. It was foolish of Irene to think otherwise.

The hate placed on those boys was too deep.

She heard a sound coming from the stairs, and seconds later, Junmyeon appeared. He didn’t have any serious injuries, just a few scratches, but still, he looked extremely tired. He sat down next to her but said nothing, watching the dark sky.

Irene looked at him for a moment.

“I'm sorry.”

He turned to her.

“I thought I could’ve changed that.” She continued. “I guess I can't.”

Junmyeon reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers.

“You being there scared me so much, Irene. For a moment I thought I was going to lose you.”

She sighed, and her breath was a little shaky.

“I didn't want to keep hiding here, behind you. Now, they know where I am, they know who I'm fighting with.”

Junmyeon looked at their hands.

“I guess there’s no going back now.”

Irene shook her head, slowly.

“No.” she pauses. “But there was no going back since the moment I fell in love with you.”

He looked at her, and Irene continued.

“I can't hate them. I was trained to do everything against you, but now I can't either. I care too much about each one of you. But I can't just turn those feelings over to them. I can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to hate them.”

“I know.” she smiles sadly. “I know you’re not. Despite that, I know that I need to make a decision.”

Junmyeon's expression is concerned, and Irene knows that he’s worried about her. For her. This realization hits her even harder, makes Irene even surer of the decision she makes.

“I choose you, Junmyeon. Above all, I choose you.”

She’s crying now, tears rolling down her cheek before she knows it. Junmyeon holds her face, wipes her tears with his thumb. He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“We will be together, no matter what happens.” he tells her, and Irene nods. “I choose you, Irene. I choose you.”

They kiss, feeling the salty taste of her tears, and Irene knows that their path will be difficult, it will be painful - but they’ll be fine.

As long as they’re together, they’ll be fine.

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reeceweep24 · 4 years

Text

Spinelologie:// Mechanical Heart (Part 5)

Note before reading: Some of you may not heard of this but I gave my Spinel robot au a new title: Spinelologie;// Mechanical Heart. This is still a continuation of the story but it’s under a new name. TW: Violence

Enjoy! _____________

Spinel slowly sat up from the table and scanned her new surroundings. Her eyes panned over to the Diamonds who looked back in complete awe. Her gaze then fell on Peep who stood right next to her with a small smile on her face. Spinel’s eyes widened.

“You, w-where did you take me to?” She spoke in a now clear robotic voice, much more understandable than when Peep first met her.

“You’re back at the palace where you were made,” Peep explained, “You were in really bad shape when I found you so I brought you here to get repaired. It’s nice to finally meet-”

“How long have I stayed here for?” Spinel interjected with a twinge of fear in her voice.

“You needed a lot done so I would say a long while,” Peep said.

What looked like slight worry immediately changed to sheer panic in Spinel’s expression. Her eyes darted back to the Diamonds, “Where’s Pink? Has she come back from her assignment yet?” she asked.

The Diamonds had pained looks on their faces at the mention of Pink. Peep winced, it had passed her mind that Spinel never found out what happened to her Diamond when she left. They unfortunately had the heavy task of breaking the bad news to her.

White regaining her composure spoke, “She has not come back yet but I don’t think you should go back-”

“But I have to!” Spinel cut in again raising her voice, “She told me to stand still in the garden! If she arrives and I’m not there to greet her, she’ll start to worry where I am. I need to go.” Spinel leaped off the table and made her way quickly down the steps.

“Spinel, please wait,” Blue pled reaching out her arm, “We need to tell you something.”

“Well it can wait. Right now I need to be there for Pink,” Spinel said without looking back. She now was at the door waiting for it to open. It didn’t move for her. Spinel reached out her arms and grabbed hold of the door frame. With only a slight pull the large door fully opened. Spinel ran out of the room.

Peep looked on until Spinel turned a corner and disappeared into the palace. She glanced back at the Diamonds to see Blue and White with disheartened looks. Yellow on the other hand seemed nonchalant.

“Somebody needs to tell her,” Yellow said sternly, “She needs to know or else she’ll be right back there waiting for no one.”

Peep looked down at the vacant table. “I’ll do it,” she said, “I was the one who brought her here in the first place after all. She must be so confused.” The Diamonds looked at each other for a moment before nodding solemnly at Peep.

“That will be much appreciated. Thank you Peep,” White said her face brightening up a bit. Peep nodded back and ran down the flight of stairs.

“Oh and Peep,” Blue called as she was about to exit the room. Peep glanced back, “Please be careful.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” she replied slightly surprised about Blue’s concern, “I’ll be back with Spinel in no time!” She gave a reassuring smile before heading off.

Peep wandered the long halls of the palace calling out Spinel’s name. She looked in each room she passed by but they were completely empty. What seemed like hours passed with no sign of the robot to be found. She almost gave up her search when out of the corner of her eye, a blur of pink zoomed past a connecting hallway. Peep immediately rushed after Spinel, finally being hot on her trail.

“Spinel! Hey wait up!” Peep called out. Spinel didn’t respond nor did she slow down. Peep struggled to keep up with Spinel as she frantically searched for a way out. They swept through corridors and sprinted down stairs until Peep began to lose track of Spinel.

They turned a corner and suddenly, the halls opened up to reveal the throne room. A galaxy warp was in the center of the room, finally an escape. Spinel dashed for the warp. Peep, fearing the worst, used the last of her energy to try to stop her.

However, she wasn’t quick enough. Spinel stepped up on the warp.

“NO!” Peep yelled as a white light lit up over the warp along with Spinel. Peep fell down on her knees defeated and exhausted. The light vanished. Peep looked back up and was shocked. Spinel was still standing on the warp. Spinel was surprised herself when she saw that she was still in the palace.

“W-what? Why didn’t it work?” Spinel asked herself. She continued to stay on the warp, hoping that another light would come and take her home. Nothing happened.

“No...nononono. This always worked whenever Pink used these….so why isn’t it working for me!?” Spinel’s anxiety worsened with each passing second that she remained.

“Please! I just want to get back to her!” She cried. Still no response.

“AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGG!” Spinel screamed in a fit of rage and despair. She swung her fists down hard on the warp. Peep felt a chill go down her spine as the room shook from the impact. Pieces started to fall off as large cracks formed on the surface, rendering the warp completely useless.

Realizing that she had destroyed her only escape, Spinel collapsed on her knees. Tears started to roll down her cheeks and dripped onto the floor. She had her back towards Peep but she knew from the sniffing and slight gasps that Spinel was crying.

Peep got up and started to walk towards Spinel. She got close and reached out her hand to comfort her. As her hand was about to gaze her shoulder, Spinel looked back and noticed her. They stared at each other for a moment. Spinel’s tear filled eyes suddenly contorted in anger. She turned around and grabbed Peep by the shoulders. Peep yelped in fear.

“YOU!” She yelled, “You’re the one that took me away! You’re the one who got me stuck here! It’s all your fault!”

“I-I was only trying to help you. Just please listen to me!” Peep struggled against Spinel’s grip to which she didn’t budge.

“You were chasing after me in this wretched place trying to stop me! You made me destroy my only way out! Why would I listen to you after what you just did to me?!”

“It’s about Pink! She isn’t going to come back to you anymore.”

“Liar! She needs me there! I’m her only best friend. She would never do that to me because she loves me!”

Peep finally snapped, “Do you think she still loves after she left you for six thousand years!?”

Spinel was stunned by what Peep said. She suddenly remembered the countless nights that she stood still in the garden, hoping that one night, she would see the face of her Diamond again. Was it really true? Did Pink really forget about her? Spinel still refused to believe so. She had enough of this gem’s lies.

“Well do you know what I think? I think you should just stop lying and...LET. ME. LEAVE!”

Spinel tightened her grip on Peep, squishing her shoulders together as hard as she could. Peep screamed, unable to withstand the feeling of her body being crushed. Tears of her own started to fall as she was forced to look at her death in the eyes. The eyes in particular, had no pupils or color. They just stared back at her dead and soulless.

Spinel didn’t feel anything at all when she started crushing the stranger. However, when she saw the anguish, the pain written all over her face struggling to survive, remorse started to take over. She let go and backed away. Spinel was frightened of what she had just done and looked on helplessly as the gem fell to the ground.

Peep slowly recovered, her shoulders still stinging when she moved them. She found Spinel, hands over her mouth, moving away from her. Her eyes had recovered their pink color and black pupils. Peep attempted to go to Spinel but she kept backing away from her, keeping a distance.

“Please, just let me return to the garden,” she begged, “I just want to be with Pink again, that’s all. I don’t know what came over me but I don’t want to hurt you like that again.”

Peep sighed, “I know you do but you can’t. I need you to believe me. She’s really been gone for a long time. I don’t know why she left you behind but I understand how you must feel right now.”

Spinel searched for any sign of deceit in her face but she looked generally sincere “So it’s true ...she really did abandon me didn’t she?”

“I’m afraid so,” Peep looked downcast, “I’m so sorry.”

Spinel sat down on the floor and covered her eyes, trying to take it all in. “My only purpose was to be her best friend and I couldn’t even do that. Why else would she leave me? I should have done more. I failed her ...I'm useless.” Her voice quivered as another sob forced itself from her throat.

“That's not true Spinel. You’re not the only one who she hurt. The Diamond’s, Homeworld, me...she ran away from everybody. She didn’t even say a proper goodbye. You’re not alone in this because we are all in grief over her.”

Spinel wiped her tears away, “If she’s not coming back then there’s no point in returning to the garden. Where am I going to go now? Who’s going to take me in? What’s my purpose now?”

“Well the Diamonds really seem interested in letting you stay here. I think they need someone to cheer them up.”

Spinel seemed hesitant, “What if I don’t live up to their expectations? What if I can’t keep them happy and they put me to the side like Pink did?

“I understand that you’re worried but it doesn’t hurt to try at least. Who knows, maybe the Diamonds are who you really need right now. What do you say?” Peep offered her hand down to Spinel.

Spinel looked away reluctantly, her doubts impeding her. She then glanced up at the warm inviting smile the gem gave. Something about her let Spinel’s fears wash away almost instantly. She gave the gem her hand and was helped back on her feet. Spinel gave a hopeful smile back. Hands still locked, Peep led Spinel back into the palace where her new best friends waited.

#pink pearl #spinel #spinearl robot au #steven universe #spinelologie:// mechanical heart #tw violence

39 notes · View notes

fall-lightning · 5 years

Note

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP: 7 & 98

Thanks for the ask! This was fun to write! This may be a little confusing, so I’m going to make a separate post explaining it. I might continue this? Let me know if y’all think I should.

(Cursed and florist)

The creaking of his joints was constant. The stiffness that came every morning when it almost felt like every change that had been forced upon him was happening at once all over again was commonplace, something he hardly batted an eye at. The way sometimes his limbs would be hard as oak and soften up to the normal muscles and tendons he was used to a moment later, making Gon question his sanity too many times. After the curse, they were all normal parts of his life. Things he expected everyday. All of that changed when he met Killua.

Working as a florist was a good way for Gon to both push back the effects of the curse and feel slightly more at peace. Ever since the incident that had cursed him in the first place, he hadn’t been okay. He could laugh it off with his friends, and sure, he had fun but… there was always something just under the surface, a feeling that he was on the edge of a cliff and just a hair away from tipping off the edge. Being surrounded by the bright colors, the fresh and sweet smells of the various kinds of flowers, and even the sounds of the wind blowing through them, were all some of the only things that could keep him grounded. The fact that he could give himself and his unselfish care to the plants was also a bonus, pushing back the curse as much as possible.

Day 1:

Gon smiled as he walked through the garden, snipping the fully-bloomed roses as he went. The florists’ shop was open, but it was too early for many visitors to be coming. Add in that today was also not near any holidays and it pretty much guaranteed that the store wouldn’t have customers for a little bit. Just as Gon was snipping the stem of another one of his precious roses, however, he heard the quiet pinging of the bell above the door, announcing the arrival of a customer.

Gon stood up, swiping his hands together to get some of the stray dirt off of his hands. Huh, weird that there’s a customer at- he checked the time- 8:30 in the morning.

“Hey, what can I do for you!” He said as he passed through the door that separated his courtyard-style garden from the main part of the store, even before he could see the customer. When his eyes landed on the man standing there, he had to fight very hard not to lose his composure. Gon had had some attractive customers, but this guy really took the cake. His features were elegant and he stood proudly, both of which gave him the appearance of a prince. When Gon spoke, the man turned toward him, turning the full force of his slightly intimidating gaze onto him. His frosty eyes were piercing, but they didn’t seem malevolent, persay. Just on edge. Some say that eyes are the window to the soul and for the first time looking into this mans eyes, Gon could fully feel the truth behind that statement.

“Yeah. You work here?” The customer replied, voice barely tinged with suspicion.

“I own this store, actually. What were you looking for today?” He replied, deciding to brush off the fact that the other had asked such a strange question. Of course Gon worked here, he was covered in dirt and he just asked how he could help!

“I wanted flowers. It’s for someone close to me, she had a special event recently.” He shifted his eyes around the store, leaning from foot to foot. He was a mystery, and it made Gon want to crack it. The someone close to him was probably a girlfriend. Oh well, it wasn’t like Gon was actually going to make a move. He hadn’t been very into dating since- the accident. Ironic, considering that was exactly what he needed for a cure.

“Do you want any specific types of flowers, or did you have colors in mind? Or maybe you want me to choose?” Gon replied, secretly hoping the other didn’t have a specific flower in mind. Picking out and arranging the flowers was one of Gons favorite parts of the job, asides from tending for the flowers.

“Er- I hadn’t really thought of any of that.” The other man looked to the side, pointedly ignoring Gon. Gon had to fight to keep in a laugh. Geez, from regal and princely to completely embarrassed. (From beautiful to adorable, Gon couldn’t stop his brain from thinking.)

“That’s fine! Maybe you can look at samples for bouquets we have, or think of her favorite flowers? I can arrange some flowers in colors she would like, but it might take a little longer.

“Well, she likes pink. A lot.” The man snorted, smiling fondly. “And blue. And maybe… white? I can wait a little, too, that’s fine with me. I’ll just chill in the corner of the room.” He was already starting to edge towards the couch near the window.

“Okay! I’ll be about thirty minutes to an hour.” Gon turned around to get started and barely caught the other waving his hand generally in his direction as if in confirmation.

Exactly thirty-four minutes later the flowers were given, the money was handed over, and the other man left. Only when he was gone did Gon realize; Oh, I never got his name.

Day 14:

(Two weeks later)

It was another two weeks before Gon saw him again. A shorter time than he had thought, though he hadn’t expected that they would ever see each other again.

When the silver-haired man stepped into the shop for the second time, he was just as beautiful as Gon had remembered. Eyes still looking around critically, just like the last time, but they were a little softer. No longer quite… suspicious and more just what looked like a habitual sweep of his surroundings.

“Oh, hey.” Gon said as he leaned forward onto the front counter. He knew he was grinning foolishly right now but he didn’t really care. “Back so soon?” He spoke like they were friends and not just two strangers who met two weeks ago during an exchange of flowers. The other didn’t seem to mind, just snorting air out of his nose quietly.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He meandered over to a yellow flower to lean in and smell it. Gon burst out into laughter as the other gagged and leaned back, coughing. “What the hell is that?”

“(Smelly flower name).”

“That sounds as disgusting as it smells, great.” The customer rolled his eyes, but his lips were twitched up at the side just barely.

“What’s your name?” Gon blurted out, hardly thinking about how far off topic the question was.

“Killua. And you’re Gon.” The stranger- Killua- said. Hold on- how did Killua know his- “Nametag.” What? The confusion must have shown on Gons face, because Killua quirked an eyebrow and smiled with way too much amusement. “You looked confused. You have a nametag. It says your name.” He explained as if he were talking to a child, which with the amounts of thinking skills Gon was showing right now, wasn’t that offensive.

“Oh, right. I… guess I forgot.” He brought up a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Killua just let out a quiet hum of acknowledgement before growing back to walking around the store. “Are you looking for anything specific?” Gon asked tentatively, peeking around a large leafy green plant situated in between himself and his only customer.

“Do you know anything about flower languages?” Killua glanced up from the fuschia plant he was currently admiring, seemingly ignoring Gons inquiry.

“Well, I am a florist so I would hope so.” Gon snorted. Killua looked embarrassed for the first time since Gon had met him, ears turning pink as he turned away from Gon pointedly, pretending to be very interested in a nearby flower arrangement.

“Uh, right. Um, do you know of flowers that mean pride, uh, love, and acceptance? Preferably in pink, white, and blue.” He looked up at the ceiling as if in deep thought and Gon took the opportunity to admire his gorgeous facial features. (Jawlines that sharp were bad for Gons health.)

Gon thought for a second. Flower, flower, and… flower. Beautiful and got the point across.

“Alright, I can definitely do that. You want to wait in here or do you want me to call or text you when it’s ready?” Gon offered, which was… different from how he normally dealt with customers, but he kind of wanted Killuas number.

“I have to do something, so you can text me. I’ll pick it up as soon as I can. Do you have a pen for me to write my number?” Score. Now Gon had Killuas money and his phone number, all he really wanted from a person.

Killua wrote down his number and left the shop, waving a lazy goodbye to Gon, before beginning to practically run down the sidewalk. Gon stood behind the counter for a second more, looking at Killuas phone number (he was a little too attached to a taken person) and eventually began to head to the back to collect the flowers he would need.

Forty-five frustrating minutes of trying to arrange the flowers perfectly later, Gon was finally satisfied, and he brought out his phone to text Killua. Before he could even type out a “hi” his hand seized up and sent Gon into agony. He glared down at the offending hand to see the hand nearly completely turned to a wood of some kind, he would guess oak. Gon hardly noticed the phone slip from his grasp until it landed on the floor, thudding dully. Gon tried to flex his hand, to curl it into a fist, to move his wrist, do to anything, but he found his hand unable to move.

What felt like minutes but was more likely about thirty seconds later, his hand began to be able to move and the wood softened into flesh and muscle. With the pain gone, Gon could think straight. The curse. It was getting worse. He probably only had a year left before he turned completely into oak.

With shaky fingers, Gon reached down and picked his phone off the ground, cautiously inspecting it for damage. After deeming it uninjured he opened it up and started to continue his text to Killua. It’s okay. He was going to be fine. He just had to go water the flowers out back and he would be fine. He had time.

Hey, this is Gon, the florist. Your floral arrangement is ready for pick up.

That sounds way too formal. Gon thought, and considered for a moment before adding a smiley face emoji. There. Professional but not threateningly so. He didn’t hesitate in hitting send.

It didn’t take Killua very long to get there, arriving ten minutes after the text was sent. Gon choked in a gasp when he saw the newest addition, a piercing in each ear. He had simple black studs in, but they stood out shockingly against the red ear.

“Here. Flowers. For you. That you ordered.” Go stuttered out in an uncharacteristic moment of shyness.

“Thanks.” Killua took the bouquet with a smile and brought the flowers to his nose to smell. It was a small move, but it was so cute. How could someone look so good doing something so normal?

“I like your piercing.” Gon said, gesturing at Killuas ears. Killuas eyes brightened.

“Thanks! I’ve been wanting one for a while, it will really annoy my parents. Or make them happier. Either one I’m fine with.” He shrugged. Gon grinned, heart feeling light. Killua turned to leave and Gons smile started to dip. Killua stopped abruptly and half turned towards Gon. “You have my number so, uh, you can text me sometime. If you want.” He pointedly didn’t look at Gon after the statement was out of his mouth and he turned towards the door, practically sprinting out.

Gon hadn’t felt this light, this happy, since the curse had been forced upon him. It gave him a feeling of hope. Maybe… maybe Killua was special. Maybe he could be the key to breaking the curse.

#killugon #killua #gon #florist au #curse au #answered #my writing

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

Text

I don’t know if I ever actually posted this but I can’t find it in the tags so here’s the epilogue I wrote for @thunderboltsortofapenny‘s Del Grant au, set roughly fifteen years after the end of it.

The sound of Del's phone makes him look away from the window of his apartment. He pauses in scratching Kronk's head to look at the screen.

Hey loser, want to meet for coffee? That new store is opening and I want to try their muffins

He snorts, Kronk looks up at him in a mix of slight alarm and confusion. The blond tabby that's adopted his sixth floor apartment isn't used to the noises he makes yet. He'd only just managed to lure the stray in through his window last week. With pizza, of course. He is nothing if not just like his namesake. Del misses Clint. He makes a note to call him later, it's always easier to hear Clint's voice. For all everything else has changed, Clint's voice hasn't.

Gimme half an hour. Have to convince the cat to move.

Half a second later: You're a loser and that cat is taking advantage of your bad habits. See you in half an hour. First ave and tenth. <3

Groaning remorsefully, he slowly starts to detach the warm cat from his thigh and move from the windowsill. He's dressed well enough for a date with a friend - Natalie won't care anyway. As long as Del is smiling and sober Natalie doesn't ever give him too much shit. Del loves that about her. He zips his hoodie up the rest of the way and stuffs his wallet and phone into his jeans pockets, starts shuffling lazily out the door. He hasn't wanted the gloves sitting on the front table since winter, but it's still cool enough that a long sleeve shirt is plausible.

Twenty minutes later he steps off the subway out into the east village. For all he lives twenty minutes away he rarely comes here unless one of his friends invites him. He likes to stay in Brooklyn for the most part - or lose himself completely in a really crowded place like Times Square. He revels in the fact that crowds - for the most part - comfort him now instead of petrifying him. It's a small victory, but it's an important one. The new cafe Natalie wants to try is called Trees Bein' - "it's pronounced Tres Bien it's a pun, it's clever" Natalie had insisted, exasperated - and Del can't actually help the sound he makes at the name. His friends are such fucking dweebs. The place is crowded but not uncomfortably so and the nature vibe immediately puts him at ease. He spots Natalie waiting by the front door and waves.

"You are such a dweeb I can't believe I'm friends with you," he says in lieu of an actual greeting and he gets a pinch to his right arm for the trouble.

"Delano Timothy Grant you are like a hundred and twelve years old and you're still hanging out in wannabe chic cafes with your expectant-mother friends. You have no room to judge in this scenario." The fact that doesn't hurt - and Natalie knows it won't - makes the smile on his face grow bigger.

He's better now. He really is. He's made his peace with Bucky - with the Soldier too - with every part of him, mostly. He still has bad days and nightmares sometimes, but mostly he's just a perpetual twelve year old who doesn't age like his friends do, who sometimes relapses into an accent that hasn't really been heard for more than a couple of decades. He has real memories of three very different lives. But he's okay. He is. (He remembers when he used to say those words and they were lies, but they aren't now. His three psychology degrees and his Masters in Cognition and Perception make him qualified to make this statement.)

"You are going to make a horrible mother. Your children will grow up traumatized and their only comfort in life will be their uncle Del."

They're at the front of the line and Natalie orders a hot mint tea and a chocolate chip muffin. Del looks undecidedly at the menu for a few seconds before ordering the largest mocha coffee they have and a banana nut muffin. He doesn't need the muffin to remind him of his mentor today, but he gets it anyway. Fond memories or something.

"If my children ever call you their uncle Del I'm deleting your number from my phone," Natalie continues as they wait for their orders, but she gives him a fond look anyway. "How's work?"

Del smiles when he thinks of his patients. He always does - if there is one thing he can unequivocally say he's done right since being given whatever number second chance he's on it was going into therapy. "It's going really well. I've got a new patient who is doing very well, considering what they've been through. I think I can really help them." He's thinking about his newest patient - a young child who'd been assaulted and tortured by her family until she started having dissociations to deal with the trauma. This case hits close to home, and he knows he's maybe more invested in this kid than he usually is even by his standards. But. He became a therapist to help people and he's good at it.

He's careful not to give away any specific information - even what he's said much is more than he would share with anyone who wasn't Natalie. He takes his work and his patient's confidentiality seriously, he can't imagine not doing so. Wielding someone else's secrets like that. Natalie smiles again at him because she knows.

"I'm really proud of you, Del."

He flushes with pride at the statement but luckily their orders are called, so he's saved from saying something equally mushy back. Natalie has been his friend since he first came back to New York fifteen years ago, lost and alone and so suicidal he'd nearly walked in front of a train, except he hadn't been sure it would have killed him. She's almost forty now but she glows in a way that makes her looks years younger. She's Del's favorite person in the world hands down, possibly barring Clint.

They sit and chat for a while, catching up on their life in the two days since they've talked last and giving the new cafe a resounding thumbs up - "even though the name is still stupid who comes up with these things" "shut up Delano".

"So have you made any new friends - besides your stray cat friend?" Del rolls his eyes. Natalie has been on hi for a while about finding someone to spend his time with romantically lately. Like she thinks he's becoming an old spinster or something. It's not that he doesn't want that it's just. Just he's still got some old doubts and he's comfortable alone, comfortable waiting for the right thing when it comes along. Until then he'll play the casual dating game and just as casually lose their numbers afterwards.

He shakes his head and doesn't miss her eye roll, but she lets it drop. He's come a long way and they both know it. Natalie finishes her muffin and gets up, admitting reluctantly she really doesn't have time for a longer chat. She has to meet her husband Blake before she heads to yoga and if she didn't legitimately scare him sometimes Del would never let her live down what an aging hipster she is. "Give my regards to Blake," he tells her sincerely and hugs her close before they part. He sits in the cafe for a few more minutes, content and jesus christ he is happy isn't he? No matter how many times he realizes it, it's still a shock after all the time he's spent not happy.

On his way back he makes a detour to a new grocery store, mostly because the one he usually goes to doesn't have any good cat food. He walks home along the pier instead of catching a bus. Brooklyn has and hasn't changed, he loves the commitment to keeping things green and making outdoor gardens everywhere. He's frustrated it comes at the expense of families who have been living there since he did...the first time.

He and -

In retrospect, he's honestly flabbergasted they haven't run into each other before now, but he looks casually around the park running along the pier and sees Steve Rogers amongst a gaggle of kids with baseball mits and bats. He's not embarrassed he recognizes Steve without seeing his face, after fifteen years. He's still at least partly Bucky Barnes, after all. What he is surprised about is that there's not pain or hurt in his chest. No pain or bad memories or needles in his brain. It's another small check in his mental notebook of things that are good about today.

He walks slowly to a bench and sits down - he can take the time and he can admit he's curious about what Steve has been up to when he's not Captain America. Del sometimes shakes his head that even after all this time Steve hasn't given up the mantle for more than a few years at a time. Addicted to being needed, that one, says a voice in the back of his head and Del has to agree.

He waits, watches fondly, until all but one of the kids has left. Steve sits with this one kid and talks with the scrawny munchkin for another fifteen minutes, until the kid hops up and grabs his pack, running off. Del gets up and walks over. He's not sure when he decided he wanted to talk to Steve but he's eager in a way he hasn't really been in a long time.

"Well if it isn't Captain America." He has to struggle not to laugh when Steve whirls around and nearly trips over himself. The picture of grace.

Steve's mouth forms a few words, none of which he vocalizes, before he regains his composure. Del is still trying not to laugh. "Uh. Jesus. Hey." Steve looks him up and down, unsure. "Wh-uhm. Hey." He's staring somewhat expectantly at Del for a few seconds before Del realizes with a flush of pleasure Steve is waiting for Del to tell him what he wants to be called. He's almost forgotten when he last saw Steve he'd told him to do that. Not to assume Steve knows anything about who he is.

"Del. It's Del." Steve smiles brightly and he looks genuinely happy. There's no sadness or regret that Del can find when he searches his expression.

"It's been. Christ it's been a long time. Are you - how are you?" It's that same genuine tone Del and Bucky both remember Steve always having. Del rolls his eyes, but it's a fond gesture.

"I'm good. I'm. Really good." He's still a little surprised he's talking to Steve and not in pain. That he can actually look at Steve and not feel hollow or inadequate. That he might actually have ridiculous butterflies in his stomach because Steve hasn't changed either. "I stopped at the grocery store on the corner because I have a new cat and the bodega near my house only has shitty cat food." Like he has to explain he wasn't just sitting on a park bench watching Steve teaching a bunch of kids baseball for the simple pleasure of it.

Steve's laugh is maybe another check on that list of good things. Which is weird, because he doesn't know Steve, not really, but he...wants to? "Trying to resurrect the Dodgers?" He doesn't know if that's too familiar. He isn't in pain, but there's a weird balance in his head. He isn't sure what's appropriate when talking to the guy you were in love with, then had wiped from your head, then hated, then, maybe...could have had a crush on again. Then didn't want to see for fifteen years.

"Nah. I've let that dream go." Their eyes meet for a second and there's more to those words and neither of them pretend there aren't. Steve doesn't let them hang though, just states them as simple fact. "I like teaching these kids. They're really great, and they love the game."

It's bright out and he's not hurting and Steve's still fucking gorgeous. That was never really the question, it's still not. "Hey, I've gotta get going or these will spoil-" he holds up the cans of cat food "but do you want to catch up sometime?" He can't hide how relieved he is, no matter how much he likes his life now, to see someone else who hasn't changed with the years that have passed. And he can admit that, maybe, he has actually been lonely. Not like Natalie thinks, but he has been.

"Absolutely. I'll give you my number? Call me or whatever when you get a chance." Del gets his number, enters it in his phone and grins.

"Great. I will." He's turning away when Steve calls his name and he looks back. Steve's smiling and his face is so, so earnest Del does feel an ache in his chest, but it's not a bad one. It's because every part of him knows what's coming and he's maybe a little bit exasperated at how much Steve hasn't changed, even when he has.

"Thank you, Del. I'm glad we ran into each other."

Del grins, lifts a hand in goodbye. "Me too, Steve. See you around."

Definitely a check in the good things that happened today column.

#penny i really hope its okay im posting this like 6 years later #idk what you even did with this but like #i needed something happy and this is probably the happiest thing ive ever written lmao #del grant au #he stood for something #milo writes

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lilacjaemin · 5 years

Text

daisies

pairing: prince!jeno x gender neutral reader

genre: fluffy angst oh yes (plus lil commentaries hehe)

word count: 4.5k

summary: daisies symbolize true love – each daisy is really two flowers blended together in harmony, the center petals are one flower surrounded by the “rays” of another. they mean purity and innocence, one that swears a loyalty to love and a commitment to a shared secrecy.

a/n: thank you to jeno for being my biggest muse!! oh also thank you to payton for helping me research flowers for this <3

· royal prince!jeno can’t wait to rule his people and his beautiful kingdom full of flower fields and forests

· but he can wait a little longer to get married

· and one night the royal family throws a dinner party and a ball filled with suitors for their son

· but jeno can’t take the stuffy atmosphere and the hundreds of girls trying to dance with him

· so he runs off to his favorite spot in his kingdom

· these rolling hills covered in daisies

· it’s this pretty valley that nobody else knows about sometimes he goes there when his royal duties are too much and he needs to get away

· but when he arrives he stumbles across you laying on the hill stargazing, engulfed in the flowers

· he had no idea anyone else knew about this place

· he really doesn’t wanna be around any more people tonight but in the dim moonlight he can make out the features of your face

· he’s never seen you around the castle, and by what you’re wearing you definitely didn’t just run away from the same ball

· so he carefully approaches and asks if he can join you

· you sit up, freaked out that someone found this secret spot of yours

· the figure is in a white button up and a dark blue suit jacket with gold swirls

· he looks expensive but his eyes are kind

· so you say okay

· when he sits down next to you, he smells of many different expensive perfumes, which you find weird

· you ask what he’s doing out here because by the looks of his dark suit he probably should be at some ball

· and he says “yeah i should be.”

· what?

· and that’s when you notice the gold coronet resting neatly in his hair

· ohhhhh he’s the prince

· you’re sitting on the ground with the prince

· the future king jeno

· o k a y

· suddenly jeno thinks he hears something and he’s paranoid of his parents’ royal guards finding him and this spot so he turns to you like did you hear that??

· and before you could respond, out of nowhere he grabs you?? and dives into the flowers

· your hands against his chest preventing you from smacking into him

· he’s pulled you super close, his breathing rapid and eyes closed

· you’re a little frozen, still in shock the prince just tackled you

· he waits, realizing he probably just heard a squirrel or something

· the ~kdrama~ moment happens where he opens his eyes and finds himself staring into yours

· time stops for a split second, the wind ruffling the grass and daisies surrounding you two

· and then he regains his composure and helps you up again

· “are you okay? im so sorry! oh, that was so weird and creepy i just cant get caught out here.”

· you blink slowly, the surprise wearing off

· “yeah im totally fine.”

· well maybe physically, but your heart?? about to beat out of your chest!!

· jeno reaches his hand out and brushes a strand out of your face, smoothing out the rest of your disheveled hair

· you swore fire ignited from his fingertips

· you have to change the subject before you lose it

· “so…you said you should be at a ball right now?” you clear your throat and brush yourself off

· “ah, my family is pressing me to find a suitable partner. lately it’s just been dinner after dinner, dance after dance, i hate it.” he sighs, laying back into the hillside

· “you hate people trying to get your attention?”

· “i want to marry once i fall in love, not because they would be a good ruler of the kingdom.”

· “i see.” you whisper, laying down beside him

· “ i love my family, i love this kingdom and i can’t wait to rule but i wish that one part of my life could be normal. i tried to have the most normal childhood i could manage. i did everything i could to grow up and feel like everyone else, but nobody else has to have arranged marriages, so why do i?”

· you stay quiet, soaking his words in, watching the moon as jeno continues to your right

· “love seems incredible. i just wanna experience it for real. i don’t want someone ive only met a handful of times before our wedding, no matter how extravagant the whole thing is. i’ve tried so many times to explain to my parents that i can rule by myself for the time being and then ill find a partner, but they won’t let me.”

· you listen to his worries, the whole time not realizing that your hand had made its way to rest on jeno’s arm

· it’s something you do to comfort others, but he turns his head to look at you and you immediately pull away

· you start apologizing, saying how it’s just a habit you have, but he stops you

· “no no it’s okay, it feels nice to have someone really listening to me.” he smiles

· oh his smile is beautiful, it shines brighter than the moon above

· “i never get to hang out with other people my age and not have a bunch of royalty stuff looming over my head.”

· you were just in awe that the prince who has it all is unhappy and you feel so bad and just wanna hug him because honestly he’s so cute

· you listen while he rants about his duties and how stuck up some of the royal advisors are and how every suitor he meets is in it just for the wealth, they don’t really care about the him as a person

· he asks what your take on it is and you talk about your views on love

· you’re saying how you think it’s the most beautiful thing and that you’ve seen it in your parents and you want it so badly, but it always feels like all of the people in town don’t want a serious relationship

· “i want to meet someone that makes every star look pale in comparison. i come out here to look at the night sky and hope that somewhere, the one i’m meant to be with is looking at it too.”

· and jeno nods

· he completely understands

· “my family says i’m crazy for thinking that way. but i work in a library, im surrounded by incredible stories of romance, how can i not hope for one myself?”

· he’s fascinated at the fact that you can date normally but don’t because you say there’s no one out there

· jeno assures you there’s people out there, he has to meet with them constantly, he just never gets along with any of them

· you talk about royal life into the late hours of the night

· jeno is just so happy to have someone genuinely interested in his thoughts and feelings

· he’s giddy, ranting about his plans for the kingdom and his goals for the future

· you don’t know when you drift off, but you remember hearing his warm voice fade away

· and you fall asleep on his shoulder

· jeno doesn’t remember when he drifts off, but he remembers feeling your warmth at his side

· when he wakes up at sunrise, jeno is like oh i‘m so dead they’re never gonna let me out of the castle ever again !!

· but he looks at you, sleeping peacefully against him with daisies framing your face

· he feels his heart do a backflip

· is this how it’s supposed to feel? there’s not supposed to be a sense of dread pooling in his stomach like there is when a suitor walks in? interesting

· gently waking you up, he tells you he has to run to get back to the castle

· but he promises you he’ll do everything he can to come back to this spot to meet you and stargaze again

· “i’ll be here.” you say sleepily, smiling at his messy hair

· when he gets home his parents are like oh you are in so much trouble we threw that ball for you and you LEFT?? AND WE SEARCHED ALL OVER AND COULDNT FIND YOU?? WE THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDNAPPED??

· and jeno is like um. oops? trying to contain his smile when he thinks of you and your soft hand on his arm

· he gets read the riot act and is told if it happens again there will be serious consequences

· and jeno never gets in trouble so this is big

· but he’s willing to take the risk

· for weeks he sneaks out and runs to the field each and every night

· finding more reasons to love being in your company than there are stars in the sky

· one night before dawn broke you stopped playing with the hem of your shirt

· “i was thinking about what you told me the first night we met.” you say, eyes glued to the ground

· “i know you’ll find somebody, and not just because you’re a prince. you will find someone who loves you for your heart, not just the riches.”

· he stares at you, something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pin

· jeno was glad it was dark, if not you would’ve seen the red dusting on his cheeks

· “y-you’ll find someone too. i know it.”

· its quiet for a minute and then very subtly, jeno grabs your hand

· “is this okay?”

· “of course it is. now can you tell me about the secret royal garden? i heard its incredible.”

· you lay on your side and spend the rest of the night finding the stars in his eyes

· another dinner is scheduled, this time with the family of a neighboring kingdom

· this family has a daughter the same age as jeno

· he knows in his gut that his parents want him to be with her

· but he can’t shake the feeling of your hands in his

· it’s where they belong

· nevertheless, he fake smiles through the meal, tensing when she tries to reach for his arm across the table

· after the disaster of a dinner, jeno sneaks away again

· you can tell by the look on his face that he needs a hug

· “i don’t want to be with her.” he breathes into your neck

· “you’re sure you can’t talk to your parents about this?” you say, running your hand through his dark hair

· “they don’t listen. i’ve tried, they just won’t listen.”

· you hold him close, wracking your brain for a solution to this problem

· but there seems to be none

· jeno creeps back to the castle after spending the whole night wrapped in your arms

· but the queen is waiting for him in his chamber when he opens the door

· he’s banned from leaving the castle without supervision until he gets married

· he’s never sent out unless it’s with a guard

· he’s devastated and frustrated because he wants to sneak away to you but someone is always watching

· he feels like he lost the one person who understood him the most

· one day he goes into the castle library in an effort to get some peace

· to his surprise, you are working in the front

· you hear a gasp and when you look up jeno stands before you

· “this library? you work in the castle and never told me!?”

· “no, the town’s library is overstaffed because of the summer, so i took the job opening here. i always waited for you to come in and find out, but i guess you don’t use the library as much as i imagined.” you laugh

· your heart is beating like crazy seeing him again

· you bring him to your favorite little poetry corner, out of view of the entrance

· huddled in amongst the books he takes hold of your hands

· you can see him visibly relax when he feels your palms against his

· “im so sorry, i tried so hard to go meet you but they have guards on me at all times. they won’t let me out of their sight.” he looks frantic

· “jeno, i’ll wait however long it takes to be together. i still go to our spot every night, i still wait for you. i always will.” you reassure him

· his brows unfurrow and he smiles, pulling you close to his chest

· his heartbeat is soothing against your cheek and you realize just how much you missed him

· “oh, i have something for you.” you reach into the last of the shelves, pulling out a thick worn book

· he watches in confusion as you open to a page in the center

· “here, i pressed these for you. for the nights when you can’t come visit, just know i’m there.” you show him two dry daisies, careful not to blow them away

· his face lights up, gently taking the book from you and running a finger over their stems

· he’s about to thank you when you hear someone call for him from the door

· he frowns and shuts the book, tucking it under his arm

· he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before scurrying off, leaving your skin burning and your mind dizzy

· jeno’s parents are sure the princess from the neighboring kingdom is the one

· and jeno can feel his stomach drop to his feet when they tell him

· desperate to get to you, he tricks his guards into getting him something from the other side of the castle

· he shimmies down his balcony and runs as fast as his legs can take him to the field before they can send search parties out for him

· he grabs you by your shoulders and frantically tells you that they’re arranging his marriage

· but it’s not what he wants, he can’t stop thinking about you

· “jeno.” you whisper, pointing behind him

· you see lanterns come over the hill and horses trample over the flowers

· jeno stands in front of you to protect you but guards pull him away

· he’s yelling at them to stop but they’re angry

· you feel like you can’t breathe

· one of the advisors recognizes you from the library and tells you never to come back to the castle

· you stand and watch with teary eyes as jeno is dragged away and the candles fade into the night

· a few weeks go by and you get word that the prince is betrothed to marry the princess and you’re absolutely heartbroken

· you know jeno doesn’t want that

· and even if it isn’t you that gets to be with him, you still want him to be happy

· out of a job, you ask a family friend who works as a florist to hire you

· “of course! we need all the help we can get for this wedding!”

· oh no

· your heart breaks even more but your family needs the money

· you arrive a few days before to set up the decor and pray the the guards from that night don’t recognize you

· and as much as it hurts, you hope you don’t run into jeno

· but to your dismay he walks in with the princess and you feel your world collapse

· you meet his gaze while they check on the ballroom’s set up and you can see the light behind his eyes go dim

· suddenly he yells “NO! THIS IS ALL WRONG! WE NEED TO HAVE A MEETING TO DISCUSS THE DECOR IMMEDIATELY!”

· he finds a way to break away from the princess just for a second and whispers to meet him at a different spot tonight

· he says it’s under the willow tree at the edge of the forest by the stream and you nod

· “the flower arrangements around the altar are hideous.” he goes back to frowning, trying his hardest not to steal glances at you anymore

· you are sure there’s no way he could get away again but lo and behold you hear footsteps approaching

· you run into jeno’s arms, worried this would be the last time you could ever hold him

· he cups your cheeks, staring into your eyes

· “we don’t have much time but i promise i’m not marrying her. we’ll figure something out, we’ll run away together, we’ll do something, but i promise i am not marrying her.”

· he tries to assure you it’ll all be okay and he’s so certain it will be that you begin to believe him

· but you hear footsteps again

· lots of them

· and you and jeno can hardly see because of the tears in both your eyes but you can hear the impending doom

· there aren’t even words to say to each other, its over

· it’s all over now

· he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, letting his lips linger against your skin

· jeno is ripped from your arms and both of you are taken back to the castle

· they throw you in the dungeon and tell you that you’re going to have a meeting with the king and queen in the morning

· you sit on the cold stone floor and cry into your palms, desperately trying to remember how jeno’s lips felt on your face

· the next day you’re led out in shackles

· you sit in front of the royals and the queen is furious

· she’s yelling how dare you try and ruin her kingdom by getting in the way of her son’s relationship, how dare you still try and meet with him after everything that’s happened

· she’s close to banishing you from the kingdom entirely when jeno runs in, “don’t you understand? im in love with them!”

· jeno loves you

· “would you rather the kingdom be run by a miserable king or a happy one?” he’s crying and you want nothing more than to wipe his tears away but the shackles keep you planted to the ground

· you’re exhausted and cold and sad and hungry and you have no fight left in you

· the queen can’t believe what she’s hearing

· “you would put your future people in danger for this peasant?”

· “i would rather give up the throne entirely than marry that princess.”

· “how could you say that? i didn’t raise you this way! i raised you to be a selfless leader!”

· “how could you expect me to lead these people well if im unhappy?”

· she pauses momentarily, a softness seeping into her eyes, but it quickly fades when she looks back at you

· the queen is still fuming

· “we’re going ahead with the arranged marriage and that’s final, jeno.”

· she turns to you and tells you after you’re done helping with the wedding you’re never going to see jeno ever again

· he cries out, running to kneel in front of you and taking your face in his hands

· “jeno,” you say weakly, “its okay. i hope you can find happiness.” you try to smile for him but everything hurts

· his mother watches the sad scene unfold in front of her with a tightlipped expression

· “and i love you too, moonlight.” you whisper

· he laughs bitterly, tears falling onto your heavy arms

· he leans forward to kiss you

· but his guards grab him and take him away before his lips reach yours

· he yells your name all the way down the hall, kicking and thrashing to try and break free

· you hang your head in sadness and feel a sob wrack through your body

· its over

· the day of the wedding arrives and you solemnly finish the bouquet for the bride

· you fill it with orange mock flowers (they represent deceit) quickly hiding the daisies they had brought for it instead

· you try to find someone to deliver it to her but everyone is bustling around trying to add the final touches

· you trudge to her chamber and knock, hoping to place the flowers down and leave as soon as possible

· but she invites you inside and you dig your nails in your palms to keep it together

· she’s pretty, but from what jeno has told you about her the only thing she cares about is power

· “so i heard you’re the one who tried to break us up.” she says through an unnerving smile

· you stay silent

· “its such a shame really. jeno is really torn up over you. he’s too sad to think straight. he sits in bed with this old poetry book, but he never turns the page. i think he’s gone crazy, he doesn’t even speak! but i won’t need him for much longer. once i’m in line for the throne i won’t even need to look at him.” she twirls her finger around the center of the bouquet

· “and when i’m queen, you’ll be banished. it’s a win win!” she laughs, brushing past you to leave, “oh, and do stay for the wedding. i wanna make sure you see this.” you can hear the venom laced in her words

· your hands are numb, four dark crescents in each palm

· jeno stands at the altar in his dark blue suit, the same from the night you met him

· he’s pale, rings of purple under his eyes, his hands in fists, a daisy in his pocket, you can tell he’s biting his cheek

· you stand behind the tall vase at the back of the ballroom, peeking through the flowers

· the music begins and in walks the princess, and jeno has never looked unhappier in his life

· he’s barely holding her hands, nothing like the way he held yours

· the priest asks if he takes this woman to be his lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as they both shall live

· you hold your breath

· it’s silent

· the princess is smiling, but if looks could kill jeno would’ve been struck down immediately

· “jeno?”

· silence

· a tear rolls down his face and you can see his body visibly shake

· “no.” he says as firmly as he can

· the crowd gasps

· he drops her hands and begins to walk off when the king comes up next to him

· “you better get back up there right now and finish this.”

· “no.”

· “what did you just say?”

· “i said no, i’m saying no, i’ve been saying no. ever since i was little i’ve thought about what it would be like when i fell in love for the first time. i’d see the way you looked at mom and i thought i can’t wait for the day where i love someone so much i look at them the same way. and funny enough i did find that love. i fell in love in a field of flowers with someone who is more beautiful inside and out than the moon and all the stars combined. i finally found the prettiest flower of them all and i won’t stop fighting for them.”

· he pauses and turns to look at his dad

· “i know im going against your word, but you always told me a good king was one who finds strength in those around him, one who grows and rules to the best of his ability, and i’m the strongest when i’m with them, dad.”

· he turns to the crowd, desperation dripping off his words

· “i want to be a ruler you’re all proud of, but what kind of king would i be if i didn’t fight for what i want most?”

· you didn’t realize you were crying until your tears ran down your neck

· the queen stands up and you fear the worst for both you and jeno

· “you really love them? you love them this much?”

· “mother, i’ve always wanted true love. you know that. and i can’t see myself with anyone else.”

· the princess is throwing daggers with her eyes behind them

· the queen pauses for a moment and without turning around she says “come up here.”

· you hesitantly walk up the aisle in your raggedy work clothes, your heartbeat pounding between your ears at all the eyes on you

· jeno gasps “you were still here?”

· “in no way are you ready to become royalty let alone a ruler, but i’ve never seen jeno stand up to us like this before, and i must admit it hurt my heart to not be able to give him the true love he wished for all these years. it’s not that i didn’t want him to experience it, i just wanted him to have the best partner for ruling over his people. but i think i caused more harm than good in doing so. you seem to really love him, and that’s all a mother could ever want for her child. if you promise to take all of the classes and lessons you need and work extremely hard to learn about this kingdom and what’s best for it, i’ll agree to you dating him. if you meet my husband’s and my approval, then maybe we can discuss marriage.”

· “what!? absolutely not!” the princess stomps her foot “i’m supposed to be queen!”

· “you never cared about my son anyway. get in your carriage and go back to your kingdom.” the king hisses

· she throws her bouquet to the ground and storms out

· both you and jeno are speechless, silent tears rolling down your faces

· you thank the queen endlessly, promising to do whatever it takes

· you cling on to him, trying not to collapse to the floor

· “i almost lost you.” you say into the fabric of his suit

· “never.” he mumbles into your hair

· you walk hand in hand, fingers intertwined, back to your field

· you lay down in the flowers and never let go of each other

· tears wiped away with kisses

· fingertips tracing the shape of your mouth

· as the stars begin to poke out of the sky jeno connects your lips

· it isn’t until the sun peeks up over the hill that he pulls away

· and a year to the day you first met the prince in the valley, you stand in the same place, amongst the same daisies, under the same stars, reciting vows to each other’s teary eyes

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 5 years

Note

How would Canada, Prussia, and Romano handle every country but theirs dying? And the micronations. Asking since I'm writing a fanfic, and it's set in the future with time shenanigans. [And yes, america dies, italy, Russia, Germany, everyone but those three and the micronations since they're so small]

Hello, lovely!

This ask took me a bit to warm up to; Hetalia is my happy-go-lucky escapist fandom, but the more I thought about this, the more my own curiosity was piqued.

I took the liberty of assuming this was sort of a “sudden death” scenario, and that the lads find out the Others are missing at relatively the same times. I also tried to be optimistic, and I apologize if some of it is unrealistic.

Hope this is sufficient, and perhaps inspires you in your future writing ventures!

Lovi and Gil knew immediately that their brothers were gone.

Lovino felt the hegemony fall to his shoulders as he was watching the sunrise, sitting on a dock with his feet under the water. He was immediate rage, cursing any name he could think of for the responsibilities now falling to him, for daring to take away someone so young.

Gilbert, on the other hand, knew as he was brushing his teeth, bright pink bubbles swirling down the drain as he simply collapsed into himself, crumbling to the floor. “I was supposed to go first. Not you. Never you.”

Matthew was the first one to reorganize, take charge of the situation. With all major world powers gone, Canada was now the leader of what remained of the Free World, and he took his duty very seriously. Having been in Berlin already for a meeting, he hunted down the remainder of Germany, dragging the eerily quiet Gil along with him to find any others.

Mattie played the strong one, keeping a stiff upper lip throughout the first few weeks of the crisis. It’s not until he goes back to his house and sees one of America’s stray Converse and Mexico’s favourite hoodie that he completely breaks down.

The humans are in chaos, the global economy having crashed, and a large majority of them now gone. There is panic of an epidemic, of a possible apocalypse, with looting and strong alliances forming between any survivors.

It has been three weeks.

Gil remains stiff and silent, though he does consent to food, sleep, and bathing. Lovino hovers near him in case the idiot tries to do something foolhardy when he finally overcomes the shock.

Italy, what is left of Italy, ties with what remains of Germany for second in strength in this new world. Lovino keeps a stern face, greets each minute of regrowth with a solemnity that Feli and Toni would have teased him endlessly for. When Marcello bursts through the meeting doors one evening with news about refugees, he nearly loses his composure; Seborga looks more like Veneziano than Romano ever cared to admit.

The panic has mostly settled, and an eerie sense of calm and faux normalcy hangs in the air for humanity. There is no real normalcy- Most continue trying to determine if their loved ones are still alive, many don’t return to work, some carry on as if they had no interruptions.

After months of debate, Rome is once more declared the centre of the world, and Lovino and Marcello move permanently into their family home. Many of the micronations soon join them, adopting Ladonia’s preferred communication strategy of staying in touch digitally.

Lovino takes on his new responsibilities easily. He’s lost half his population before, led empires before, been at the centre of the universe before. So long as he keeps himself busy, he can ignore the missing sarcasm, ignore the missing “Fuck!” tossed around every five minutes. The big house is almost filled to capacity; it still feels too empty.

It has been two years, and Humanity is working together to connect everyone who remains to a proper global network. In times of distress, everyone comes together.

Most migrate nearer to the micronations, seek out shelter in one of the three main remaining nations. But there are some who refuse to leave their homes, and efforts are made to ensure everyone has access to medicine, electricity, and clean water.

There is more progress now, with no real economy to stop it.

Gilbert remains quiet, though he observes everything. He signs whatever forms need his attention, acknowledges any issues to be addressed. But he can’t help thinking that it should be Freidrich or Ludwig here, that they should both be here.

He misses his inside jokes with England, with Scotland. He misses raising hell with France and Spain and Denmark. He misses shit-talking with Japan, Belgium’s bounding energy, Seychelle’s fierce optimism. All gone, with the survivors trying to build a new world order out of the ashes.

Ten years, and Mattie officially moves in with Lovino. Castel Sant’Angelo has once more been renovated- now into a central home, with more than enough space for every representative to keep their own room. Mattie just shrugs when Lovi raises a brow at his luggage. “It was too quiet, and someone has to keep you in line.”

It has been twenty years; Gil still has yet to speak.

Several attempts have been made to create some form of economy. Each was shot down.

Humanity, now interconnected more than ever, has resumed interest in teleportation and space travel.

Twenty-five years, and everyone now understands at least three languages.

Thirty years, and Mattie sometimes swears he can see Ukraine keeping watch over the garden.

Thirty-five years, and Lovino and Marcello are thick as thieves. Seborga is finally as deadly a shot as Romano, and Lovi has started to embrace his more childish ways at his brother’s encouragement.

Forty years, and two of the Big Three are arguing over which Grecian deity most closely fits them. Lovino insists there is no way he could be Zeus, just as there’s no way in hell Mattie could ever qualify as Poseidon. The debate could have raged for hours, but a dark scowl from the unanimously voted Hades left them both feeling too sheepish to continue.

On the forty-fifth anniversary, Lovino snuck off to the north, taking a boat to explore what still remained of Venezia.

Fifty years later, and the first person to Mars smiled for the camera. In a dialect birthed after the Great Disappearance, she sent love to her family, and made a small speech about progress and adventure and all the hopes for the future.

Millions of miles away, from a small kitchen in the Black Forest, a grainy television delivers the message to a soul older than comprehension. The words sank in, the phantom of a firm hand resting on his shoulder. “We will continue to rebuild, and we will grow stronger.”

For the first time in decades, Prussia smiled.

Fifty-seven years, and no one questioned why Matthew is completely smashed during the first two weeks of July.

Sixty-three years, and Mattie was trying to dig Prussia, Sealand, Wy, and Hong Kong out of a mud pit, cursing up a storm as the four continue to throw more earth at their rescuer’s head.

After eighty-six years, Gil has stopped wearing black. He came to breakfast with a vintage white t-shirt that read “Spread Pages, Not Legs (the ace agenda)” across the front, and Mattie nearly choked on his orange juice before he finished reading.

One century later, and no humans are left alive that can remember the Great Disappearance, the only recounts in history books. The world has rebuilt, and the people have learned to move on.

The micronations have grown into their power, now hosting monthly meetings to discuss policy, agenda, progress, shipping- All the things that society needs to function.

Missing from today’s meeting are the three eldest nations, who had left early in the morning without a word. No one is sure where to find them, where they could be. They’re not gone though, so there is relief.

It is 5 am local time. The sun will be rising soon.

Matthew murmurs a chant, golden glow slipping past his lips and circling around the small trio. Lovino harmonizes with his own sounds, some deep, dark, and inexplicably ancient rasping coating each syllable, cold air tying itself to the dancing lights. Gilbert watches on for a moment, holding in his hand a pile of letters and Alisdair’s old lighter, waiting. The moment comes, and he sets the papers ablaze.

The winds of Lovi’s spellwork and the control in Mattie’s ensures not a speck of ash will hit the ground, and all three watch as their words fly up, disappearing in seemingly midair.

They wait until they are satisfied, then begin the hike back to their car, parked on the old A303, Mattie nearly tripping as Gil rushes past him, desperately trying to beat Lovi in their impromptu race. The Canadian snickers quietly as both of them fall in the process, underestimating the steepness of the hill. Taking the initiative, he rushes past them, outright cackling at the outraged squawks of protest behind him.

None of them see the hazy figure sitting atop the bluestone, smiling softly before fading away.

The world is finally at peace.

And one addition, in case anyone was curious:

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theheartofpenelope · 5 years

Text

SIMPLE THINGS - Chapter four

Chapter four - excerpt : It's true what they say, 'touch has a memory'. It came flooding through her when her fingertips traced his beard and lost their way in his generous curls. It steered her to a blissful state when she felt his hand stroking her cheek before his lips adoringly pressed onto hers again and she prayed he would not leave them soon.

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Not beta’d. And thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…

Also on AO3 through this link Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter four London – early day thirteen

1. It was already a few hours past midnight when Charlotte set foot into her hotel room again. Her initial contentment at the start of the evening was now well replaced with some sort of remorse. And the worst part was she was completely unable to explain or detect the reason for her sorrow.

She had just spend a most wonderful evening at a gorgeous garden party, talking to and laughing with very kind people. She’d been a guest that had been well looked after. She had no reason whatsoever to feel downhearted. None. It had been a perfect evening, but there had been a slight sting was in the tail.

Charlotte dropped her clutch on the writing desk with a sigh. She’d enjoyed the hospitality of the hosting couple, she had fun partaking in the pleasant antics of the tight-knit group of friends and - all right, all right - indulged some stolen glances, gentle touches and a bit of subtle flirting towards the end. But all in good fun. Nothing serious.

On autopilot Charlotte switched her mobile on flight-mode before dropping it on the table next to her purse. Her mobile, that now contained Tom’s number. Another sigh escaped her lips.

Oh Sophie, why though? And why did you have pinpoint my interaction with Tom. As if it was something more than what it really was.

Like a true gentleman Tom had chauffeured her back to her hotel. But in the car nothing of substance was spoken anymore. Worse, there were unspoken words left in between the both of them, the couple that carpooled along might have had something to do with that perhaps… He’d parked the car up front and shut off the engine. He was an attentive escort, that was certain. He confided that he had spent a lovely evening and hoped she had as well, when the couple in the backseat gleefully chirped in to wish Charlotte a good night and successful tour. So there you have it….

Despite the heatwave, Charlotte shivered all over once more. She couldn’t warm up for the life of her. What was up with that? Tom had been nothing but sweet and attentive. And she? She’d frozen. Quite literally. Her mind was beyond tired, her emotions all thrown in a loop for reasons she could not comprehend. But Charlotte did regret ending the evening in the way she’d done. Oh well, water under the bridge right?

So long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu… Much cuter when the Von Trapp-kids sing it, though…

Charlotte idly stripped down and stepped into the sleek shower where the hot water instantaneously rinsed away all sorrow and managed to warm her up again. She brushed her teeth and gazed into her own tired eyes through the fogged-up mirror.

Silly girl.

She slid into a summery pyjama-set, consisting of nothing more than a delicate camisole-top and matching shorts and crawled under the soft white sheets. Closing her eyes and ready to retire for the night, she thought she heard someone knock on her door. Charlotte frowned and checked the clock… at this hour?

“Yes?” she croaked.

“It’s me…”

The voice was soft, low and half what muffled. Charlotte would recognize that voice anywhere, but that couldn’t be - could it?

2. Charlotte hastily threw on a cardigan to cover herself up somewhat as she curiously padded towards the door. And indeed, there he was as she swung the door open. He stood there, gazing at his feet before looking up to her.

She wasn’t quite sure how to react, only furrowed her brows and quietly ushered him inside. She wanted to ask if everything was all right, if he’d forgotten anything. Surely she had returned his jacket, didn’t she? But he beat her to it. The moment the door clicked shut, a sigh escaped his lips before he started talking.

“Ever since,” Tom paused upon exhaling loudly, “I mean - I’m fine. I’ve been fine. I àm doing just. Fine…. And then I see you. And I talk to you. And I … ” he lingered and she could see him gently clasping his fist by his side.

“… and I don’t quite remember what it is I should do next,” Charlotte whispered to herself, as she leant against the door.

“It’s probably utterly idiotic that I am standing here. Now. But I felt that I could not let you leave before I told you this. I just - I need to get it out of my system and I guess I hope that by saying it out loud, the power of it might go off,” he hesitated for a second, “or maybe it won’t – I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“There is this …. gravitational pull about you,” his hands gestured it so beautifully and, if it were physically possible, Charlotte was certain her heart would have jumped out of her chest at this confession. But she was lost for words.

“It’s hard to resist really,” his eyes lowered towards to his feet again “and believe me, I’ve tried…”

Charlotte didn't quite know what to do with herself anymore. Because this was not in the plans. She was meant to be out cementing her career. She couldn't afford to lose her focus to matters of the heart. She knew better than that; she’d followed that path before and look what good it had brought her. If anything, Charlotte was now adamant to start loving herself first, putting herself first, creating peace in her mind first.

Looking back she could see she’d come a long way. She had her own place, decorated to her liking. She ran her own office, organised to her wishes.

Her mind however was not at ease. Not anymore. So she picked up yoga first, then pilates. But to no avail. Charlotte figured it just came with the territory. Something she ought to learn how to live with.

Curling up with a good book in the safehaven that her house had become, did make a lot of things easier to bare. But there was room for improvement still. What she was clueless on, however, was on what she might be lacking.

And then he had to walk in her life and be all perfect and charming, even while adorably tipsy. Sweep her off her feet and disappear. And that part was all right, strangely enough. He'd woken her from a slumber she never realised she was in. And for that she was strangely grateful to him.

But then he would reappear when she had least expected him to. Ever perfect, ever charming, so considerate. It pained her that he could bestow so much empathy and understanding towards her, which she feared she could not ever reciprocate… That part of her was broken, jaded even, safely kept away under lock and key.

“I have been fighting it but now, tonight,” he confessed, “I catch myself wondering what it is exactly that I am fighting for? And it seems I am incapable of finding a valid reason. Or any reason for that matter.”

It was too warm for a cardigan; in fact the piece of clothing kept Charlotte’s body more than warm. To the point it just might get uncomfortably hot. Still Charlotte broke into goosebumps again and lots of them.

Her heart thundered even harder in her chest when she laid eyes on him again. Truthfully, he was not hard to look at either, which made it all worse really. So many good traits that kept her from raising her voice to chase him out.

She’d felt safe in this cool minimalistic cell she'd designed for herself, she really could do without any company. But then he had to cross her path. All calm, polite and amiable. And she had no idea how, but there he was. Now. In her room. Saying all these things she couldn’t wrap her mind around...

“Have you been mulling this over this whole time?” Charlotte finally questioned carefully. After all, quite some time had passed since he had dropped her off at her hotel.

“I confess I’ve had to drink in some courage,” he wrinkled his nose in humoristic defeat.

“Courage?”

“Yes, courage,” he murmured, “for this.” And on that note he stepped in closer to her and, before Charlotte could form a complete thought, she felt his hand slide into her hair as his lips unceremoniously brushed against hers. Unknowingly he’d had her teetering on that fine line between composure and surrender, but now - with his lips on hers, she was well lost.

It's true what they say, 'touch has a memory'. It came flooding through her when her fingertips traced his beard and lost their way in his generous curls.

It steered her to a blissful state when she felt his hand stroking her cheek before his lips adoringly pressed onto hers again and she prayed he would not leave them soon.

This is wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go.

Yet Charlotte was unable to pull away. Instead her hands greedily locked themselves around his neck and held him closer in wordless permission. In this moment she is unmistakably his. There was nowhere she could imagine herself running to. There was nowhere she would want to hide, except in his embrace. She felt she could dissolve in his arms and all worldly stress would disappear. She felt as though she could live off of every exhale of his. As long as it was his. How silly and irrational was that?

Charlotte’s eyes fluttered shut. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek and his lips momentarily ghosting over hers. The anticipation is almost too much. His lips captured hers so gently, so affectionately. And Charlotte was tired. Tired of mulling this through. Tired of thinking. She only wanted to let go now, and allow herself to just ‘feel’. She gasped at his tongue gently flicking against her upper lip and within moments their tongues gliding against each other in a glorious dance. Her hands pawed his cotton shirt in an attempt to hold him even closer to her.

It felt a bit surreal when Tom rested his forehead against hers and confessed, “I have wanted to do this since the moment I laid eyes on you yesterday.”

While her mind tried to register all that was suddenly happening, Charlotte reached up and stroked her fingertips tenderly along his cheek, tracing his sharp cheekbones and then over his soft beard again, simply touching and exploring, towards his warm and generous lips.

“And I love your dress,” he declared, “I forgot to tell you that.”

“Shame I’m no longer wearing it,” Charlotte chuckled quietly.

In his entire stream of consciousness, Tom had been so caught up in his emotions that he hadn’t even laid proper eyes on Charlotte yet. But he was well and ready to make up for that. He delicately pushed the cardigan off her shoulders and glanced at her skimpy pyjama-set underneath.

“I can live with this as well,” he broke into a big grin before his lips engulfed hers again. Charlotte felt alive. As if she’d suddenly awakened after a long and dull slumber, which was not far from the truth really.

“I’m not here because I want to take advantage, mind you,” he muttered in between kisses, “had I known you’d be….”

Charlotte placed her index finger on his lips, “I’m glad you came back,”

“You are?”

She nodded, “I’ve been kicking myself for having acted so … nervous around you,”

“Do I make you nervous darling?”

Darling.

Charlotte smiled and placed his hand on her heart. That’s what we say, isn’t it? Although in reality his warm hand actually rested on her warm, soft and just barely covered breast. No room for pretences here.

Tom chuckled as he locked eyes with her, “well that’s quite something.”

Yes indeed, the term ‘arrhythmia’ comes to mind.

“This is so unlike me,” she frowned because this was absolutely not something she would usually do, not at all. Her boldness took her aback as well. But then again, this was not a situation she would ‘usually’ find herself in. She felt safe here with him somehow.

His clear blue eyes anxiously sought out hers, “Charlotte, I,”

“M-mm,” she muttered before sweetly pressing her lips to his again, “please don’t,” she pleaded softly, “let this be a one off.”

And with that, their mouths crashed together again, tongues lashing against one another as their hands roamed with renewed fervour and urgency. He tasted of whiskey and chocolate and she relished it. She clawed at his shirt eagerly and in return was rewarded with a lustful grope before his arms wrapped her up in an impassioned embrace.

This was a long time coming, a long time coming for sure. It felt as if the dam had been broken, all water came pouring down. A force of nature. Unstoppable.

Tom’s hands roamed over her spine and down to her silky shorts, which he proceeded to massage with a firm confidence. Charlotte was pleasantly surprised when he grabbed a strong hold of her, urging her legs to clasp around his waist. She could feel him hardening underneath her and locked her hands behind his neck, in a desperate need to hold him ever so close to her.

His strong arms lifted her up and carried her towards the small writing desk in her room. Her fingers feverishly unbuttoned his shirt and she slid her hands under the soft fabric to his back, her nails scraping lightly over his skin and making him shudder and groan into her mouth.

When their lips parted Charlotte could hear him breathing heavily in her ear before he kissed her cheek, then nibbled her earlobe and sat course down her throat towards her neckline. Her head lulled back and a whimper escaped her lips, much to his pleasure…

His fingertips wasted no time and tenderly pushed the thin straps of the camisole off of her delicate shoulders, his lips following suit, leaving a trail of adoring kisses as he sat out to explore every inch of her.

He was undoubtedly not aware of this, but the trail his fingertips left on her set her ablaze. Emotions she had held locked down for a long time came surging back to the surface in full force. Charlotte gasped slightly, her hands desperate to feel him and touch him, stroke him. Meanwhile his hands had deftly rid her off her silky shorts.

“Please,” she whimpered. Her cheeks were flushed, her mind incoherent, she didn’t even know what she begging for. All she knew was that she wanted, no, she needed him. All of him.

“Patience, darling,” Tom spoke under a slight chuckle as he moved back up so their faces were level, “I want to take care of you first.”

He kissed her deeply, hungrily as his fingers roamed further down where they gently teased and pressed her bundle of nerves with his thumb, leaving his soft fingers to tease and tempt her into oblivion.

Her mouth fell open, her back arched while her feet sought support onto his hips. Her wanton moans grew louder until she didn’t recognise her own voice, swallowed eagerly by Tom’s open mouth. She was close, so close, … and it had been so long, far too long…

“Please,” she moaned against his skin, ready to beg him not to stop. Ever.

But his touches did ebb away, agonizingly slow, until her mind finally processed the phone on her nightstand had started ringing.

What on earth? It took Charlotte a fair moment to realise there was no Tom in her room, there had been no confession nor a kiss. Her heart however wàs beating insanely hard in her throat as she came to her senses - quite aroused and mortified at the same time.

Groggily she grabbed the phone on the nightstand, only to hear a very polite and professional hotel employee greet her with a jovial “Good morning miss Daniël. This is your 6.30 am wake up call. Would you like a follow up call in 10 minutes?”

Charlotte kindly thanked the friendly woman but refused the follow-up, instead making a beeline to the shower. While her mind advised her to take a cold, very cold shower to rinse away that sudden excitement and kick start her day, her heart wouldn’t let her.

With eyes closed, she attempted breathing the images away. Yet under the warm rain shower her hand dwelled down south, craving to meet the arousal fictional Tom had left her with headfirst and take it home. After all it had been so long, so very long. Charlotte had doubted whether or not she still had it in her. Apparently and very very clearly she still did. It didn’t take her long to finish what had been unexpectedly started in her dreamlike state earlier. A quivering mess now, she rested the back of her head against the smooth tiles, heavily panting while muttering she had issues.

Oh silly girl, be happy, her heart jabbed back, I told you you were still alive inside.

3. Later that afternoon, Tom cheerfully greeted his mother with a doting kiss on her cheek. Bobby wagged his tail merrily as he set sights on one of his favourite humans; he knèw he was in for an afternoon of loving pats, cooing words and delicious treats. His paws pitter-pattered through the house the second Tom had released him from his leash. Bobby felt well at home here and it was heartwarming to see.

“It’s so nice to see you this often, dear,” the woman smiled before tightly hugging her tall son. Was he growing still or was she shrinking?

“But you do look awfully tired,” she slanted her head as she voiced her concern, which he simply met with a cheeky smile, “you worry too much, mum.”

Now that might be true, but she wouldn’t be a proper mother if she didn’t. Are you sleeping? Are you eating? Are you winding down enough? Diana did thoroughly enjoy having her son back home and closer to her again, but she did have her apprehensions on the toll the busy life was taking on both her son’s biorhythm and his health.

She gladly linked her arm in his as they walked into the living room of his childhood home where he would soon be snooping through the magazines on the coffee table, searching for new books on the shelves and sinking into deep thought at the sight of the latest family snapshots on the dresser while his mother made tea.

“I need a new one with you as well,” Tom’s mother confessed as she caught him gazing at a framed picture of herself and his two sisters each with their own little family. It was taken somewhere over the holidays; that part was very clear. Alas Tom had been caught up in an unfortunate and quite demanding press tour…

Tom sighed and nodded his head in agreement, “we should all get together sometime soon.”

His lips curved into a smile as he accepted the cup of tea his mother had made him, but she could tell the smile didn’t quite reach all the way up to his eyes.

“Now tell me, love, what is new with you? Are you getting settled in back home yet?”

Tom was many things, but his mother was particularly proud of the fact she had raised her son to be truthful. So when he blamed his tired outlook on Benedict’s birthday party, her ever-worried mother heart was instantly eased because he might look tired, but it was for a good reason. He was getting out and enjoying himself. At least that’s what she hoped.

The boy will never be alone, she thought, but he does get lonely… That is what haunted her the most. Every time he came back home after yet another project her son seemed progressively more exhausted, saggy and drained from all energy. It took him longer to find his joy of life back, as if he needed to remember where he had put it last.

As the afternoon progressed, their conversation moved into the kitchen where Tom started clearing the mail and newspapers from the countertop so they could start dinner preparations, when suddenly his eyes fell onto an article.

“Would you look at that,” he murmured while he stroking the creases out of the paper.

“What is it, love? You’re smiling. Is it a good review?”

“I know her,” it took him a moment for the words to sink in, “this woman.” He lifted his chin to the newspaper.”

“Who?” His mother furrowed her brows as she peered over her son’s arm. “Her? How is that, dear?”

“That is the lovely Charlotte,” he chuckled and provided his mother with the need to know basis. His eyes still glued to the editorial in front of him, he failed to detect his mother raising an inquisitive brow.

He read out some excerpts of the article to his mother, while his mind quickly drifted back to Charlotte. Lovely Charlotte. Lovely, intelligent and elegant Charlotte. Who was probably well on her way home by now. That part he left out of the conversation with his mother.

Tom had truly enjoyed spending more time with Charlotte. And in all fairness, when he adjusted her shawl last night it took him quite some willpower not to lean in and kiss her again. Just like earlier this month. But sober this time.

Thankfully he did not. What would have been the point? It was clear Charlotte was firmly set on a path of a great professional undertaking. One just needed to read this article to realise she simply breathed out fresh and new possibilities. It was no wonder her diary easily got filled in with dozens of conventions, and now the press fell to her feet as well.

Besides, what if he had made his advances; she would probably laugh it away. Didn’t she already do that earlier this month? Surely, she would want something more than just a mere actor to claim her heart. Perhaps someone was already waiting for her at home…

His mother nodded in appreciation as she heard her son recite quite some words of praise at Charlotte’s address. And with delight she detected his eyes sparkling as he read on.

“I imagine she’ll be thrilled reading this,” Tom’s mother concluded.

“Oh yes, right!” he nodded and, as if a light bulb was switched on, pulled out his smartphone. He snapped a picture of the article and proceeded to send it. To Charlotte.

Diane glanced at her son, typing away on his smartphone while she shook her head under a motherly smile. My sweet boy, lonely and alone, but always busy…

While Tom typed, he made a mental note to thank Sophie. Last night, when she suggested Tom - being the globetrotter that he was – should offer the sightseeing-advice he was offering Charlotte in writing, he unreservedly chimed in and agreed. However he did not expect Sophie asking Charlotte’s cell-phone to add his number in it. Tom had laughed the occasion away, claiming to Benedict his wife was ‘cutting his balls off’. But now, in retrospect, he wàs thankful Sophie was attentive enough to secure information he might have been wanting to get himself.

Dear Charlotte, it seems your passage here did not go unnoticed. I thought you might appreciate this raving (!) editorial – Tom PS. I hope you got home safe.

There. Good. And in truth, it was the perfect excuse to get back in touch with her. He felt uncomfortable about the way they had said their goodbyes. Maybe this would prove there was no love lost on this end.

His mood lifted, he scuffed Bobby’s head and suggested letting him out in the garden before making himself helpful with his mother in the kitchen. Just like the old days…

His smartphone buzzed on his way to the garden.

Oh my! Thank you for this, Tom! It made my day! (Silly though, isn’t it?) And yes, safely home. Home, sweet sweet home. – Charlotte PS. Thank you for London.

He smiled to himself, indeed, there’s no place like home.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #simple-things

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fandom-collective-writers · 5 years

Text

Reader x Lancelot Kingsley - A Night to Remember

Requested by @groovysciencekid

If I can make another request can I get a wedding day scenario with lance and a fem s!o just like you guys did with Harr (nsfw at the end).

Title: A Night to Remember

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Character: Lancelot Kingsley

Genre: Romance, Smut, UA (Universe alterations)

Warnings: there is smutty smut ;)

Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 2757 words

Other comments: Universe alterations: I haven’t finished Lance’s romantic route (close to tho), but I imagine it doesn’t pan out exactly like this. In this universe, Alice stays in Cradle with Lance~ You could read the romance/wedding part and then stop before the smut if that’s not your cup of tea! Sorry that I’m uploading this at night – I wanted to make sure that this was as good as possible!

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Jonah fixes the train of your gown for the seventh time in the past hour, arranging the fabric so that it flows like water – but you swat his hands away with a laugh. “Any more of that and you’ll wrinkle it!” You bring a hand to cover your mouth as you giggle at his guilty expression.

“I just want this day to be perfect – for you and for Lancelot. As his Queen, I need to be sure tha-”

“That everything goes to plan, I know, Jonah!” You take his hands in yours to comfort him. “You’ve worked so hard on everything, I know that it will be amazing.” When you smile, he returns the gesture with a small grin followed by muffled sniffles. His eyes glaze over slightly with tears and he pulls your veil over your face to complete your wedding gown. “Are you crying… Jonah?”

He inhales sharply and wipes his face. “No. Something just got in my eye.” He looks away from you for a moment to regain his composure. “We should be getting to the carriage. It’s a bit of a ride to the garden, and you must be on time.” Jonah looks at the grand clock. “We should have left five minutes ago! We’re going to be late now!”

You pick up the front of your skirt, and Jonah the back, and the two of you leave the room to make your way to the carriage in the front of the Red Castle.

Lancelot only catches a glimpse of you as you descend the stairs to the carriages because Zero pulls the curtains. The king shoots his ace a nasty glare and tries to pull back the fabric to see you again.

“It’s bad luck to see a bride before the ceremony,” Zero explains, slapping Lancelot’s hand gently. “You will see her soon.”

Lancelot falls back against the cushions of the carriage with a dejected frown. “Is this because I asked Harr to be my best man and not you?”

Zero laughs and shakes his head. “Not at all. I know you have a past. But it’s a custom from her world. Honor it like you honor her.”

“Alright…” Lancelot grumbles, still upset that he could not admire you from afar. Zero had a point though, it was only a few hours until the ceremony, and after the celebrations, he could give you his undivided attention in his private quarters. He couldn’t help but imagine the events that would unfold tonight… the two of you had shared a bed before, but not like this. This would be the first night of intimacy between a husband and wife.

He would never admit it, but Lancelot could not wait to refer to you as his wife. The idea of being united with you made his heart flutter inside his chest. It was a strange feeling, but he embraced it, especially when you were standing directly next to him.

It is not long before the carriages reached the central quarter and the garden where the ceremony was to be held. The afternoon sun had begun to set past the horizon, leaving a soft pink light to stretch across the land. It makes the roses in the garden glow with life, and the scene takes your breath away. It was certainly going to be a wonderful wedding – Jonah even took into consideration the sunsetting and angled the altar so that light would shine on you and Lancelot.

The carriage came to a stop, but it was a few minutes before Jonah opens the door for you. He held out a gloved hand to help you down, and you heard the gentle click of your glass heels against the step in the carriage.

Edgar and Kyle marvel at you before arguing over who should escort you. Their childish reaction fills you with laughter and you wave your hand. “Lancelot asked Sirius to escort me. I wonder where he is, actually–”

The two whine, but nod before complimenting you and leaving to take their positions behind Lancelot. As they bow, Sirius appears by your side, taking your hand in his. “You look very beautiful, Lancelot will be very happy to see you.”

You can’t help but blush at all the kind comments you are receiving. “Thank you, Sirius.”

The minutes leading up to the commencing of the music fly by – Jonah is running around, barking orders at everyone to straighten their tie or to fix their earrings. You can hear Edgar and Kyle passing sly jokes to Lancelot to calm him.

Finally, it’s time to go.

You almost don’t feel Sirius guiding you down the aisle or your feet on the spring grass because you’re fixated on Lancelot’s handsome face. His eyes twinkle in the light of the sunset and his smile melts your heart.

Standing across from your king is a dream come true, and his. Lancelot pulls out a small piece of crumpled paper from his jacket pocket. He unfolds it with one hand, still holding yours with his other hand. “I wanted to… write something for you…” His voice trails off and he blushes deeply.

You giggle and nod, encouraging him to continue.

“(Y/n)... I didn’t think that this day would come. Not in a hundred years – but I am so happy that it has. You are annoyingly persistent, and you revived a part of me that I had buried long ago… how you managed to do so, I will never know.” He inhales shakily, so you squeeze his hand. “I want you to know that I love you with a love that cannot be expressed in words - only in kisses, in glances, and in the years that we will spend together. Thank you for everything…”

Tears prickle in your eyes and stream down your face.

“Don’t cry...” Lancelot cups your face and presses his forehead to yours.

You shake your head slightly and put your hands over his. “I love you so much, Lancelot Kingsley.”

The next moment, you’re in his arms and kissing him with such passion and fervor that your legs threaten to go weak. He tastes heavenly and warmth emanates from his body as he embraces you tightly. Everyone in the audience is clapping, crying, or a mess of both (Jonah).

After Lancelot takes a step back, you feel the wind rush and take your spirit with it. You could easily collapse from being completely flustered, but he takes your hand to run down the aisle as people tolls red and pink rose petals over the two of you.

It’s nearly two in the morning when you land on the large bed, exhausted from partying with everyone to celebrate the marriage. You don’t know how he managed to carry you up the stairs and into his room, but you didn’t complain because you cuddled into his warm chest when he did.

With your face down in the lavish sheets, you don’t see Lancelot bending on one knee to remove your shoes. You simply feel his gentle touch trilling up your leg before his finger hooks into the lace of your garter.

A gasp escapes your lips and you turn over slowly. “Lancelot…”

“You didn’t tell me that you would be wearing one of these,” he says calmly as he places your shoes on the floor.

Before you can reply, his hand goes back up your thighs, pushing the layers of tulle up to bunch up at your waist. “Is it a gift for me?”

You’re blushing a deeper red than the shade of your blankets, but you give him a short nod. “I actually forgot about it… with everything that had been happening. And I didn’t think that we would get back this late.”

Lancelot’s gaze locks with yours, but he catches the edge of the garter with his teeth and pulls it down, off your thigh and to your knee where he removes it with his delicate fingers. You’re caught in a trance – you can’t bring yourself to break away from his intense gaze because his eyes are lit with a beautiful spark of lust.

His motions are graceful, like a panther, and he’s pinned you to the bed now. You don’t know what’s keeping him from losing his composure. The two of you want it, but are both scared of losing the moment to pure sexual desire. So Lancelot leans down and kisses your exposed neck, teething on your skin every other time his lips meet your collarbone. Shivers of frisson run through your body and you arch your back against his touch without thinking about it.

“You contained yourself well at the reception… there were a few times that you looked so overwhelmed with love that I thought you would pounce on me,” Lancelot comments, his warm breath making your head spin. He wasn’t wrong in the slightest, but now that you were alone with him… things would be very different.

He continues to tease you until you’ve reached your limit and you cup his face to kiss him hard. After a moment, his tongue invades your mouth and his hands fly to the back of your dress to undo the infinite rows of lacing. Lancelot pulls back for a moment to find the edge of the lace before you catch his lips in another hungry kiss. As he tries to undress you, you push away his suit jacket and work at the buttons that conceal his muscles from you.

“Forget what I said about containment,” Lancelot growls as he pulls on your lip. “Sit up,” he commands.

You do as you’re told immediately and allow him to remove the corset to your dress and the skirt. He tosses them to the side, and you’re left in the under skirt and a loose-fitting gown. Your nipples poke through from under the thin fabric, making Lancelot crazy.

He doesn’t bother to wait – instead, he cups your breasts and teases your nipples through the fabric, making you moan suddenly.

“N-No, I want to feel your skin-” you mewl as you stretch your arms above your head, making the fabric tighten over your breasts.

Lancelot curses under his breath and huffs as he pulls the skirt off and then rips your dress. The cold air makes you shiver, but Lancelot strips himself equally as fast and presses his body to flush yours. “I want you,” he says, lust dripping from his deep voice. “Let me have you.”

The moment you nod your head, Lancelot grips your hips and throws you to the head of the bed so that your head lands on the abundance of pillows. He grinds tip against your wet opening, teasing you shamelessly before he inserts himself into you. It’s fast and his length stretches you wide, making you close your eyes while you adjust to him.

He strokes your hair lovingly and coaxes you to open your eyes. “Don’t hold back, I want to hear my wife scream for me.”

You don’t have a chance to reply properly because Lancelot is pounding in and out of you with alarming power – each thrust pushes you closer to pleasure, and you let yourself put on a show for Lancelot. He grunts as his hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your sides to hold you in place.

Panting heavily, you wrap your legs around Lancelot’s waist so that he can reach further into you – the ridge of his cock rubs against your walls in the most pleasurable way. Your hands fly into his hair, tangling with his golden locks so that you pull slightly when his lips dance across your skin. He continues to mark you while his member rubs the deepest parts of you, and you love it.

Lancelot hardens inside of you, so you release his hair to let your hands explore his muscular back. He groans loudly when your fingers dig into his skin, so you smirk and moan with him, your lewd sounds harmonizing with his heavy breathing. As you arch your back, you push your breasts against his pecs so that your bruised nipples grind against his, coaxing more grunts from the back of Lancelot’s throat.

He wants to be in more control though – dominating your nethers and your neck is not enough. So he catches your wrists and pins your arms above your head. You whine and shake your head, struggling to move from his strong grip. “L-Lancelot, please…”

You feel the knot building up in the pit of your stomach, and you just want him to burst the bubble so you can climax already. It was a tease enough to have to be formal during the wedding, but now he was playing the role of dominant king. You want to please him as much as possible, so you open your eyes but keep them half lidded. “My King… you feel s-so good in me…”

At your words, Lancelot flushes and slows down to look at you. Sweat drips down your skin and mattes your hair against your forehead and neck. Instead of pouding into your mercilessly, he thrusts are deeper but more passionate than before. Like he’s desperate for love and not just sex. “Is this a plot to get me to release you?” His eyes narrow and he brushes away your hair with a hand while the other one keeps you to the bed.

“Maybe…” you toy, sitting up slightly to press your forehead to his. His warm breath tickles your top lip, and you nip his jaw until he hums with happiness. “But I also want you to know how much I love it when you’re in me…”

Lancelot’s pupils dilate and he kisses you forcefully before releasing your hands. They immediately fly to his cheeks and jaw to cup his face while your tongues dance together. With every thrust, your walls clench around his hard cock, and you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

He bites your neck to leave a large hickey just as your eyes roll back from the pleasure. His tip had been teasing your g-spot and when he put your leg over his shoulder, he managed to reach that fated spot. You climax almost immediately, your body trembling slightly as you ride out the high – Lancelot leans over you to kiss you deeper, and you admire his muscles tense as he too reaches his climax.

“(Y/n)...” he groans as his warmth fills you. As soon as he realizes that he’s marked you with his semen, he smirks dangerously and kisses your neck more. His lips are numb and you imagine your torso to be speckled with bruises from his love bites, but you wouldn’t change this moment for the world.

After the two of you have found your breaths, Lancelot pulls out slowly and wraps you in the covers. His arms wrap around your waist to pull you close, ensuring that you would not be able to twist away while sleeping.

The exhaustion from before settles heavily upon your shoulders, so you kiss your husband again, relishing in how sweet he tastes before you nuzzle close to him and let sleep take you to your dreams.

In the morning, you manage to pry Lancelot’s arms off of you so that you can escape to the main hall for breakfast. You thought that no one would be up so early, but you were sorely mistaken. Edgar and Jonah are drinking tea while Kyle fights with Zero for the last muffin. They look at you and laugh, making you blush.

“What is it?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips.

Edgar and Kyle continue to laugh despite your sharp glares, and Jonah can’t stop blushing for you. Zero clears his throat and points at your neck. “You did a really bad job hiding that, (Y/n).”

Your hand flies to your neck and you wince at the bruises you had forgotten about.

Before you can tell them to stop teasing you, strong hands wrap around your waist from behind and Lancelot sits his chin on your shoulder. “I think they’re quite lovely on you, my pet. Makes it understood who you married…” He licks your jaw slowly, making everyone stop and stare.

“Lance!” you flush to a deep red and swat his kisses away because you’re beyond embarrassed. “You’re not usually this forward…”

He smiles against your skin. “You’re my wife now, you might as well get used to it.”

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Hope you enjoyed!

Check out my tumblr blog (really empty atm) and my dA (main platform, has a lot of things)!

#ikemen revolution #lancelot kingsley #readerinsert #fanfic #readerxikemenrevolution #readerxlancelotkingsley #smut ikemenrevolutionsmut

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