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#but I'm half convinced I found a grey hair the other day
becca-e-barnes · 6 months
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Thinking so much about clingy, mutually possessive, filthy sex and how much I just need that rn
The kind of sex where you and Bucky just can't feel close enough to each other. You physically can't get any closer than you are, his thick cock buried so deep inside you but you still need more of him. He has nothing left to give you and you're glad because if he was any longer, you wouldn't be able to take the rest.
You're panting against his neck, whining out your frustration each time he slides home into your warm, wet body. His own groans are low, rumbling from his throat and hanging in the humid air of the bedroom you share.
"You know I can't fucking resist you. I can't." Bucky moans, grasping one of your wrists, guiding it between your bodies, encouraging you to play with yourself while he fucks you.
"I can't say no to you. Fuck, I'm yours." You hardly hear what he's saying over the obscene, wet sounds of your body accommodating his.
Your fingertips rub against your slick clit and the sensation is almost too much. "You're mine." You whine against his neck, using your free hand to claw at his back, driving him impossibly closer to you.
There's something reassuring about the feeling of his skin on yours. It's hot and sweaty but it's so comforting being naked with him, enjoying the pleasure of each others' bodies. You don't feel vulnerable communicating your pleasure to him; you feel understood.
"I am." He groans, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the way your body clings to him. "All yours. And you're mine, aren't you? My good girl."
It's a relentless build up, each stroke taking you a little further than the last and at some point, the band just has to snap.
"I am." You whine, barely able to manage any more words than that.
"You feel like Heaven. You were made for me. This warm, tight little pussy fits me perfectly." His body still isn't close enough to you, not that there's any way you could physically feel more of him.
"You take me so well, you know that? You take every drop of cum and you still beg me for more. Fuckin' love it." Just the very mention of Bucky pumping his release into you makes your walls flutter, dreaming of the feeling of his thick load shooting into you.
"I can't last like this." You hear him mutter and you're almost glad because you're not far off either. "Can't last when I can see that pretty face." His eyes meet yours and he pulls you in for a kiss that stifles your moans for a few seconds.
"Bucky, please." You groan when he pulls back, rubbing yourself just a little too quickly now that you've gotten desperate.
"Go on sweetheart, let me feel you cum for me." It only takes a few more strokes for your high to take over, pleasure rippling through you in a way that leaves your legs shaking.
You almost miss the start of Bucky's release, given how distracted you are by your own but the unmistakable throbbing of him inside you tells you he's reached his own peak if his moans didn't give it away.
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angstyaches · 1 year
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….. would you do 💋 first kiss for felix & elliott? or is that part of a plot thing?
This prompt is from a Valentine's Day prompt meme, and has been in my ask box for such an embarrassingly long time that I don't care to go looking for the original post.
Anon, thank you for this prompt, and I'm sorry it took so long!
___
You’ve heard of Early Days Felix, but now, get ready for...  
VERY Early Days Felix (now with extra early!)
CW: cabin fever type symptoms, vampire transformation, mentions of blood ingestion, chronic nausea and loss of appetite, mentions of vomiting, food mention, pining, angst, low self esteem, kissing and romantic touching.
___ 
How would I know... 
Felix spent a lot of time staring at the tiny speckles in the not-quite-yellow, not-quite-white wallpaper until they seemed to sluggishly shift about like tiny bugs picking their way through a pool of thick, goopy honey.  
...If I was losing my mind? 
There was a TV in the room that he could watch instead, but the possibility of seeing his own name, his own face, splashed across scrolling headlines stopped him from ever turning it on. 
He rarely moved from the top of his bed during the day, unless it was to go to the bathroom to splash his face with water, or to heave up a failed attempt at a meal. He refused to avail himself of Elliott’s stash as much as he could, since it only seemed to exit him the same way it went in. He knew this wasn’t a sustainable way to go on, but he didn’t know what else to do but avoid the inevitable. 
Human blood was far too precious for a fate such as being puked into a hotel toilet by history’s most pathetic excuse for a half-vampire.  
Felix had once believed that if vampires existed, they would exude sexiness from their every pore. His first glimpse at Elliott had only seemed to compound that belief. But there was nothing sexy about what had been happening to him since his own transformation. 
The bags beneath his eyes looked ready to drop off. His coppery-blonde hair had lost its luster and movement, and hung in dull, lanky clumps regardless of whether it was dry or wet, greasy or freshly shampooed. He’d found a worrying number of white strands in the past few weeks, where he’d had none before. His mother had once told him she’d started to turn grey at the age of sixteen, so maybe he should have been grateful for the additional eight years. But still, it seemed an excessive amount to find all at once. 
And the hunger. The hunger. 
Felix was unused to feeling hunger – true hunger – to begin with, but he'd never have imagined it could be this all-consuming. Even when he managed to keep food down, his body hovered around a baseline of jittery dissatisfaction. When he wasn’t staring at the wall and fancying that the specks were moving, he was preoccupied with the incessant growling and churning of his stomach. During the night, this expanded beyond being solely Felix’s problem; he was certain that he had heard Elliott groan and sigh and turn over in the other bed, pulling his pillow over his head for some peace and quiet. 
Felix blinked, and the specks on the wall reset, sliding back into their original places.  
He’d never thought he would miss his old bedroom and its the duck egg blue walls. He had wished, for so long, to leave everything behind, but now that his existence itself had been entirely re-written, Felix found himself longing for familiarity above anything else. What he wouldn’t have given to have a quick cup of tea with his mother. He’d even have welcomed an awkward chat with his father, if it meant reassuring him that he was, indeed, occupying the same earth he’d originally been brought into. 
He was untethered. And it was nothing like he’d wanted or expected. There were moments where he could convince himself that he had died – he had bled out in that alley – and that this was his own personal purgatory. 
But then... 
But then, Elliott would walk past him, sparing him a glance of concern, and the world had light in it again.  
Elliott.  
Oh, Elliott. Felix’s beautiful, oftentimes bloodied, angel.  
He fully believed that every exquisite bite of food, every musical masterpiece, every one of nature’s scenic beauties had been sculpted by the universe to honour Elliott. 
A tad dramatic, perhaps, but who was Felix to deny the force of these feelings?  
Elliott always arrived at the room a few hours after dark, too exhausted for conversation, with a bag of takeaway food in his hand and bloodstains on his clothes. Sometimes, Felix couldn’t eat a bite. Sometimes, he ate all of it and wished there was more. Days slipped by so quickly that it became impossible to track whether his appetite had a trend, or to tell if his poor stomach was at the mercy of his body’s transformation, or the weight of his feelings for his saviour.  
The fever and the body aches were often accompanied by debilitating nausea, yes; but even on his good days, a half-smile from Elliott could send Felix’s belly flopping all over the place like a fish on the floor of a boat.  
Elliott was feeding well during his work, based on the glittering fire of amber in his eyes. The thought terrified Felix – how many criminals had he killed? And how could there be so many deserving victims out there, to keep a vampire with such an appetite sated? Was it even safe for Elliott to be out there, hunting by himself? – but knowing that Elliott was keeping healthy was like a ray of sunshine in the grey, hazy day of Felix’s current existence. 
Even when a half-vampire was getting enough blood, they still needed to eat a decent amount of solid food. Felix wouldn’t have considered this if he didn’t see Elliott sit down at the cramped hotel room desk every evening, book in hand, and shovel food into his mouth like he’d been away on a different planet and this was his first meal back on earth.  
This was when Elliott usually looked the most vulnerable; even while he slept, his muscles seemed primed to pounce, his eyebrows clenched in a precursor to a frown. Eating was the only time Felix really saw him relax, and he often had to physically turn his body the other way to keep from staring. 
Tonight, Elliott hadn’t bought any hot food. He’d clearly stopped at a corner shop, judging by the white plastic bag hanging from his hand. He silently dropped the bag on Felix’s bedside table on his way to his own bed. 
Felix prodded the opening of the bag; inside was a pre-made wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water. He wondered why Elliott hadn’t brough home any food for himself, and he twisted around on his bed to ask him, but promptly shut his mouth. 
The smell of blood clung more harshly to the air than most nights. Felix’s gums instantly started to throb like he’d developed two abscesses, one above each of his canines. He clamped his wrists to his face, pressing on the pained areas. He knew he should grab the sandwich and eat it to distract his body from its need, but the thirst pulled him up from the bed like a puppet on strings. 
And those strings were, apparently, attached to Elliott. 
Felix’s movements were so silent that Elliott either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Felix followed him. He sat down at the far side, facing the wall, as Felix stood at the other. 
“Elliott?” Felix choked out. His voice sounded funny. The breath required for the single word dried out his throat. The effort of taking less than ten steps, and then continuing to remain upright, was making him dizzy in his weakened, blood-deprived state. 
“Everything is fine,” was the curt response. 
Felix wasn’t sure if it was the thirst, or the lusting in his heart that made him rock forward onto the bed. Maybe he was just relieved to give control over to whichever force was guiding him now. He was tired. He always tried his best to make the right decision, and he was always left feeling uncertain.  
He needed a break. 
Elliott’s blazing eyes met Felix’s as he looked over his shoulder. He had a startled look on his face, as though he’d just been interrupted in the middle of reading one of his books. He only ever seemed to get irritated whenever Felix did that. 
His hands were empty, though. 
“What are you doing?” he murmured, and Felix was entranced by his lips. 
The blood of his latest victim still stained them bright crimson. To Felix, they looked like two drizzles of raspberry coulis over some tantalizing dessert that he had never tried and yet knew he would love to absolutely devour in a manner that would mortify his parents. 
Elliott was visibly tense, muscles knotting beneath his skin. Every inch of his face was at odds with the inch that proceeded it, like a roadmap that Felix would gladly lose himself trying to navigate. The soft light from the bedside lamp hit his face at an angle and deepened the sliver of scar tissue that spanned the lower half of his left cheek. Felix wanted to caress it with his thumb, and before he could consider whether that was a good idea or not, he found himself doing it, fingers cupped against the stubble running up the side of Elliott’s jaw. 
He realised he and Elliott hadn’t actually touched since that night, since Elliott had brought him to this room. Felix couldn’t even fully remember it. Had he been bridal carried? Fireman carried? It seemed unfair that his brain failed to deliver answers to these questions. 
“Felix.” Even stained in blood, those lips still said his name as though it were a contract. “What are you doing?” 
Felix’s mother had once ordered a truckload of food for a fancy brunch with her friends, including a tiered stand full of the most beautiful, colourful cupcakes six-year-old Felix had ever seen. He had stood in the kitchen for a full fifteen minutes, examining them, and even though he knew it would get him in a world of trouble, he’d ended up dipping his finger into the buttercream icing on every single one of them.  
He knew the value of self-control, but it paled in comparison to the heavenly rush of indulgence. 
He lowered his lips towards Elliott’s; no longer feeling the pull of any outside force, but with the steady pace of a painter adding the final tender strokes to what was already a flawless piece of artwork.  
He heard Elliott exhale gently through his nose, as though Felix had prompted the air out of him. 
The blood found his tongue before his tongue even knew where to look. The motion pried Elliott’s lips further apart. A flicker of guilt invaded Felix’s hazy thoughts as he deepened the kiss, drawing the victim’s blood from Elliott’s lips and fangs and into his own mouth.  
This wasn’t how he should be kissing somebody he actually wanted to kiss. This was feeding.  
Maybe he should stop. 
But then Elliott’s hand was gripping his waist, and he was shifting his position, knocking Felix onto his back across the mattress. Felix’s belly and chest and throat lit up with a desperate desire, something separate from the thirst. The metallic tang was already gone from both their mouths, and yet they weren’t coming apart. 
Felix looped his legs upwards, clutching Elliott’s waist with his thighs. Elliott’s hands still gripped the sides of Felix's stomach, thumbs almost meeting in the middle. 
“Elliott,” Felix whimpered, and he’d intended to say more, to whisper out his feelings in between kisses, but the mention of his name seemed to jolt Elliott back to however he’d been feeling before all of this. 
He pulled his lips back from Felix’s. He scrambled backwards, off the bed and onto his feet, hand clamped over his own mouth as though he’d just uttered something that he desperately wanted to shove back inside. 
Dizzy and giddy with a cocktail of brain chemicals, and somewhat revived by the trace amounts of iron, Felix found himself stifling a giggle. He wasn’t sure Elliott had ever heard his giggle before. There hadn’t been a lot to giggle about recently.  
“You...” He felt himself blushing as he sat forward. Elliott was still standing close enough that Felix’s knees almost brushed against his legs. “You had something on your mouth.” 
“Felix, this isn’t wise.” Something – defeat? Desire? Oh, just for fun, let it be desire – took the wind out of Elliott’s voice. His eyes kept drifting down towards Felix’s mouth, which didn’t have any blood on it. It wasn’t blood he was after.  
“What of it?” Felix asked hoarsely. The corners of his lips cracked as he smiled. He stretched out his arms, gently bringing his palms to rest on Elliott’s hips. “It was delightful.” 
“Not – not the kiss.” Elliott’s gaze flicked to the side and broke away of Felix’s touch. He paced a few steps away. “Although, I am aware that perhaps the bloodlust is... confusing you.” 
“I’m not confused,” Felix whispered. He was terrified, yes. Overwhelmed by events that had flipped the world on its side and still had his head reeling, yes. Insatiably thirsty, yes. But he was also feeling more honest than he ever had. The walls that had dominated his previous life hadn’t just crumbled; they’d been obliterated, their dusty remains blown by the wind to the four corners of the earth.  
He didn’t know what kind of life he was going to live now, but he knew who he was as he stood at the centre of it. 
Who knew that he’d have to come so close to death – to bump elbows with it, to feel its breath on the skin of his teeth, to taste it – in order to feel truly alive? 
“And there is currently a power imbalance between us,” Elliott murmured. He was still pacing, though Felix predicted he was about to run out of pacing space really soon. “I do not want to you feel that you... owe me anything.” 
“I don’t. I don’t feel that.” 
The continued knotting between Elliott’s eyebrows suggested that he wasn’t convinced by Felix’s desperate, unembellished denial. 
“I like you so much,” Felix blurted hoarsely, horror curling in his belly as he realised how close he’d come to substituting the word like for love. It wouldn’t have been a lie, either. But that was something for him to unpack another time. “The fact that you saved my life, and... and turned me...” 
A shudder rocked Elliott’s shoulders. His pacing took him back to this side of his bed in time for Felix to see his lips disappear into a queasy line. 
“Those things have nothing to do with my feelings,” Felix whispered. He wet his lips. “Nor does my thirst.” 
“Ah. You haven’t learned yet. The thirst has everything to do with our emotions,” Elliott snapped, his voice a low snarl. He seemed to have had that response ready to go, as though it had been on the very tip of his tongue.  
Felix recoiled just a little, shifting himself into a new position on his knees. It was difficult to let himself tear his gaze away from Elliott’s mouth, from that last smear of dried human blood that was calling out to the sting chiseling away in his veins and the hollow pang in his stomach. He couldn’t help feeling that he would feel so much warmer with blood in his mouth, dripping from his teeth, so much warmer with Elliott’s face in his hands and Elliott’s body beneath his hips and Elliott’s tongue – 
Now it was his turn to shudder. 
“Are you alright?” Elliott turned his body to look at him. The concern on his face made Felix’s heart wobble a little out of place. If Elliott had merely been handsome and tough, perhaps Felix could have written this off as a superficial crush, but it was his attentiveness that really pulled the rug out from under Felix’s feet. 
“Yes,” he said.  
“Please...” Elliott’s gaze fell to the floor. “Please get off my bed.” 
Felix swallowed thickly, his face burning with shame as he shuffled to the edge of the mattress and crawled onto his own bed. What had he been hanging around there for? Had he really thought he would end up spending the night in Elliott’s bed, despite the fact that Elliott was clearly not even okay with the kisses they’d just shared. 
Elliott now stood next to his own bed again, seemingly more relaxed and focused now that the bed was separating him from Felix.  
“It... isn’t right,” he said hollowly, even though the very concept of ‘right’ had just blown up right in front of their eyes, redefining itself, screeching and pointing and waiting for the tension to break. “It would be just as reckless to pursue these feelings –” 
Joy made tears spring to Felix’s eyes. Feelings, he’s feeling feelings for me. 
“– as it would be to continue living as we have been.” 
Something cold quickly dampened Felix’s mood. “Wh-what does that mean?” 
“It means that I have given it a lot of thought...” Elliott was speaking steadily, as though he’d rehearsed it. “And I do not think I am qualified to take care of you during your transformation. I have certainly done a less-than-adequate job of it so far.” 
“Elliott, you’ve –”  
“These recent complications,” Elliott continued, “your body’s consistent rejection of blood...” 
Felix slinked back a little further, arms curling around his waist as though forming a shield between him and the declaration of his failures. Was Elliott really blaming himself for Felix’s weak stomach? 
“And now this... this lack of judgment and control on my behalf...” Elliott’s voice trembled, and he shook his head as though something had just brushed against the side of his face. “It is time to take you home to my clan. Our clan.” 
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dumblamb · 1 month
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03.31.24 ♡
sleepy sleepy post... resting in bed waiting for my angel to come home from work ♡ i had a few things planned for today-- starting to deep clean my room and baking earl grey muffins-- but i went on a near 3 hour hike with my family this morning and i'm sooo tired... was very pretty and i took some photos with my camera and i got matcha after so i'm feeling pretty fulfilled with my journey and not too worn out!
i didn't post about it on here, i think, but my kitty passed away a few days ago and i've had such a heavy heart since. i miss him so much :'( i hate feeling like i am replacing him, but i am so lonely and i'd love to adopt/rescue another kitty soon, i've been looking online and have been trying so hard to convince my mom that it's not so bad of an idea... i think i might have found my match, a little orange long haired kitty by the name of missy who is a little far from my house (about an hour and a half), but she would live comfortably with my brothers and dogs as she did with her previous owners ♡ i wouldn't mind adopting an older/senior cat, either, i think they're all so cute :')
i don't like being stuck in bed, it really just gives me this empty kind of horrendous feeling like my entire body is going to implode... i need to do something! i might play some guitar or start cleaning up a bit since i always find myself feeling a lot better when my room isn't so cluttered-- i really need to get rid of things i don't find myself ever using (i'd like to donate my old books and clothes and plushies and other miscellaneous items that i have lying around...)
kisses,
zuzia ♡
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elles-writing · 3 years
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Little Secret
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Request: Wonderful! Could please write an escenario in which y/n (half elf and half human) was part of the company cause Gandalf hired her. She and Kili fell for each other and secretly started courting. Once Erebor was reclaimed everything was going back to normal. Thorin asked her to stay for as long as she liked. When Fili & Kili's mom got there, she had lots of meetings with Thorin so y/n was not able to properly meet her. The day that they are actually introduced, Thorin announces Kili's and Fili's arranged marriages which took everyone by surprise. Y/n and Kili try to figure and fix things out in order to convince Thorin to put off the arrange marriage but it does not work. Therefore, y/n decides to leave Erebor and ends up leaving to Dale; befriending/ helping Bard and his kids.  During her time there she finds out that she was pregnant with Kili's child. However, she never notifies Kili nor goes to Erebor to announce it thinking that he had his duty as a prince and it would be harmful for him/ his arranged marriage. So, she makes the decision to raise the baby on her own. Time goes by and on a normal day (when she was 9 months pregnant) that she's walking around Dale  while feeling contractions she bumps into Kili. Thank you so much!❤️ Sorry for the long message 😅 - @just-a-dreamer23
A/N: I know, I know, this is soo long. But, I enjoyed writing this story!! I've been trying to overcome my lack of motivation to write, so maybe it isn't as good in some parts, as my other stories, but I wanted to keep it that way, so I hope you enjoy anyways.
Tags: @guardianofrivendell @just-a-dreamer23 @anjhope1 @lathalea
The afternoon was hot. The best thing to do, was to take a nap. At least, in your opinion.
Nothing would attack in this heat, you thought, as you rested under a tree. A while after, you noticed pointy hat and grey cloak of the same colour. You lazily waved.
"Gandalf, long time no see!" Gandalf smiled at you.
"Good afternoon, Y/N." You stood up and looked at him, waiting. Gandalf never came just...for no reason.
"How are you doing?" Gandalf asked, and you shrugged.
"I'm just wandering around, as usual. You know me. I never stay in one place for too long." You said. Gandalf knew that, obviously. Being a child of an elf and a human, you felt like you never belong anywhere.
Elves felt really tense and quiet, and humans were quite loud for you, because of your hearing. And you aged lot slower than them, so making friends was also quite...not it.
"I've been looking for you, to join an adventure," You curiously gave him a look.
"An adventure? What kind of adventure?"
"Well," he looked at you.
"You know about Erebor and the line of Durin, right?" You frowned at him, and quickly shook your head.
"Gandalf, I can't-I can't join the dwarves! They will hate me! Everyone knows they hate the elves, and I'm half elf!" You said.
"Well, who said they will know? You owe me help," he reminded you. You thought back to when he healed you after orcs attacked you, and you sighed. He was right. This was the least you could do.
"And, who knows. Maybe they will like you," he gave you a look, and you folded your hands on your chest, and let out a sigh.
"Alright then. Where and when am I supposed to be?" He gave you all the information you needed. And you started your way to the Shire, looking at the first evening stars, as the starlight is what the Elves of Mirkwood love so much.
You got to the Shire around late afternoon after three days of traveling, and smiled. The hobbits and their houses were tiny, so you couldn't help, but smile. Maybe it won't be that bad, having perhaps a hobbit friend, after all...
-
You remembered the moment when you first met Kili. You thought Gandalf was there at Bilbo's house, but when you opened the door...
"Are you Master Boggins?" You frowned at the brunette dwarf.
"Do I look like a hobbit to you?" He looked at the other dwarf, then back at you, but there was Bilbo already.
Later on the journey, he found you without your cape on. It was your turn for bathing, but him and Fili forgot some their things at the river.
You just put off your cloak, and put your hair down from your headband. You heard steps, so you quickly turned around.
"You are..." Fili started.
"...an elf?" Kili finished. You huffed.
"Half elf. My mother was...human." you whispered. Painful memories of your early life came up, and you blinked to stop the tears.
"Don't tell anyone, please..." you looked at them. Both Fili and Kili must've seen something in your expression, that made them realize the importance. They nodded. Kili was, however, curious. Lot more than before, and asking you about elves. You talked about it when Thorin was far enought to not hear what was your conversations about, but it wouldn't matter much. Gandalf told them you spent part of your life living with the elves, which was true.
In fact, Kili became fascinated by you. He liked you before, and had a feeling, which he wasn't sure about. Interest, curiousity, the need to protect you, adoration...
In the moment he saw you, he realized you were his One, his love for life. And when you got closer, he asked you to court him. You said yes. From then on, you shared many quiet and stolen kisses and moments together, in the shadows of forests or your bedrooms in pubs.
The moment everyone else (except for Bilbo and the Durin brothers) found out, was when you came into Mirkwood. Thranduil ordered his guards to take your cloak and headband off, and now, everyone could see your pointy ears.
There was a moment of silence.
"What made an elf, to travel with group of dwarves?" You gulped and looked down.
"I'm a-a half elf," you whispered.
"My father was from here." You explained, and the king shot you a glare. He was not stupid. He knew you tried to pull his attention away.
"Take them to the dungeons, except for Oakenshield," he said.
When you made yourself as comfortable as you could on the cold floor, you overheard the dwarves trying to find out who you actually were and what you wanted.
To your surprise, they didn't talk about you in a bad way. Just curiousity. Thankfully.
-
"Do you think she will like me?" You said to Kili. He was writing a letter to his and Fili's mother, Dis, the happy news - Erebor was reclaimed, and they all survived. It's been a week since, and Thorin decided it was the right thing to let his sister know as soon as possible. She was surely worried.
Kili turned to you.
"Like you? Like you? She is going to love you," Kili grinned at you, and you had to smile a little too.
"Yeah, but...you know, I'm not a dwarf," you said your worry aloud. It was true. Being a half-elf, you and Kili started courting in secret. Thorin was not really kind to you, at least the first half of the journey. However, the rest of the Company liked you lot more. Especially Kili. After a while of knowing of what did you feel, you decided to tell him. To your surprise, but happiness, Kili shared those feelings. And since then, you had a tiny braid, hidden in your hair, and Kili as well.
And stole many, many secret kisses.
"I don't think mum is going to have issue with this," Kili stood up, and gently placed your hair behind your ear.
"You're my One, and you make me incredibly happy. I'm sure she won't have problem with you being half elf," You cupped his cheek, and softly smiled, as you looked deep in his kind brown eyes.
"I love you too, my short Prince," He stood on his toes and kissed you, getting a giggle from you. He pouted, when he heard you called him short, but you knew he didn't mind it.
You kissed him, and felt his smile on your lips. You were leaning down, when suddenly you lost balance, and both you and Kili ended up lying on the floor. Kili and you let out a yelp, but then broke into giggles.
"I love you," Kili said, when you finally stopped laughing. You cuddled into his chest and breathed in his scent. Kili smelled like smoke, food and fresh air.
"I love you too," Kili gently stroke your hair, and you got up.
"Where are you going?"
"You have to finish the letter, and I promised Tilda I will take a walk with her before the dinner." You helped Kili to get up.
"Alright my beloved, have a good time," he gently kissed you, and sat back to his desk. You smiled, and ruffled his hair.
"You too, my dearest." You smiled, and left the room.
-
It's been a few months, and you were finally, finally going to meet Kili and Fili's mother, Dis. She has been there for around two weeks by now, but, you haven't got the chance to meet her and be introduced to her yet.
You were officially going to meet her during upcoming celebration. Needless to say, you were freaking out.
Your stomach was tight from anxiety for a few days already, and that afternoon, it felt absolutely horrible. You haven't eaten whole day, just because all you thought about was the evening.
You spent around an hour of putting on and off different dresses from your wardrobe, trying to figure out which one to wear.
"Y/N?" Kili knocked on the door of your chambers.
"C'me in," you said. He came in, and his eyes widened, when he seen you sitting in front of the mirror, your eyes red and the mess everywhere.
"What am I supposed to wear? I have nothing to wear!" You started crying. All the stress and anxiety in past three months got the best of you. Random moments of crying, because of tiny things, were happening on daily basis.
"Dear, what is happening?" He pulled your hair back behind your ears.
"I-I just want-want your mum to like me," you muttered.
"And...it stresses me out." Kili nodded, and shortly hugged you.
"She is going to love you no matter which dress you wear, I promise." He whispered to your ear.
"Now, I think..." Kili looked around.
"I think the...the dark green dress will be perfect."
When you changed into the dress Kili picked you, Kili brushed and styled your hair. He pulled the top section into a clip, and you pulled a few strands, to frame your face. You smiled at yourself in the mirror.
"You ready?" Kili asked. You just silently nodded.
As you walked down the hall, Kili was trying to figure out where his uncle, brother and mother went to. He couldn't see them anywhere, and he was sure he was once in a while not late.
When you entered the huge throne room, you could see Fili, and let out a breath of relief.
"Fili, have you seen-"
"Kili, there you are," A woman came from behind Fili, and looked over her younger son.
"Have you brushed your hair?" Kili huffed.
"Of course I did." He said quietly, so nobody could hear him. He was visibly embarrassed, and you let out laugh. She suddenly turned to you. Her deep blue eyes reminded you Thorin, but they had the same twinkle as Kili and, occasionally, Fili.
"I don't remember I seen you here before," she said.
"Well, I usually spend my time outside of Erebor, so I think that might be it," You nervously smiled. She hummed.
"I-I'm not a part of the royal family," you said, and almost groaned. Now that was embarrassing for sure.
"Y/N, this is my and Kili's mum, Dis. Mum, this is Y/N," Fili said, and you felt your cheeks heat up.
"I-um-" You tried to say something, but she pulled you in short hug.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," she gave you a smile, and then went back between the guests with Fili.
You let out a breath.
"That was embarrassing," you groaned. Kili chuckled.
"No, not at all. She likes you." It suddenly felt like it was much easier to breathe.
"She-she does?" Your eyes widened, and Kili nodded.
"Of course! And you can bet she will steal you to me during the evening,"
"How do you know that?" You turned to him with surprise written all over your face.
"She is my mother. I know her for a long time." He just said.
"She seems to be...different from Thorin," you said, hoping it wouldn't come out as offensive. Kili chuckled.
"Mum and Uncle really aren't that different. Uncle just focuses more on the kingdom and mum, on family," Kili said in low voice, so that only you could hear it.
When you sat down to the table, where the royal family and the Company was, you looked around. You and Kili did secretly hold hands under the table, and you talked to Dis, who was sitting across the table.
"Good evening, everyone," Thorin said, and the people got more quiet.
"It's my pleasure to meet all of you here today. I have some things to say, before the celebration starts." Thorin paused, and Kili leaned near you with a grin.
"It's just a few formalities, don't worry, love." You smiled at him back with tight smile. You felt something was not right. Thorin talked about the kingdom a little at first. The next news was, however, what you were afraid of.
"I'm very happy to say, my nephew Fili is going to marry-" you let out a breath. Kili turned to you with worry.
"Do you feel okay?" He asked, when suddenly...
"And my nephew Kili, who also has already arranged marriage, with-"
Kili stared at Thorin, and you as well.
"Kili-Kili, please-" you tried to stop Kili from going to Thorin. Kili was visibly angry, his jaw was tight, and body tense.
"Kili? What is happening?" Thorin came and let through his teeth. You suddenly felt everyone's eyes on you.
"I need some fresh air," you whispered and walked away, as quickly as you could. When you left, you came in your chambers, kneeled to your bed, and started crying.
You knew it. You should've known before.
Thorin would do this. Even when Fili and Kili were children, he would make sure they had wives already. They were princes. They needed to have a wife.
And Thorin...Thorin would never allow Kili to court you or marry you.
The next day, Kili came into your room. He had dark circles under his eyes, and gave you weak smile.
"I promise we will work this out," he muttered, and pulled you close to his chest.
Kili was asleep - and you let him - but, you thought about your situation, and tried to come up with possible solutions.
However, it was as if there weren't any.
It's been a few days, and you cuddled into your blanket. You fell asleep, and when you woke up, you looked around the room.
This place isn't for me anymore, you thought, and started packing your clothes into your bag. You changed into tunic and trousers, and wrote a letter to Kili, that you were sorry, but it was probably better to have a wife his Uncle would like, that you were leaving and never coming back, so he shouldn't be looking for you.
You quietly left the palace, and walked out in the morning. The air was fresh and nice, and for a moment, you forgot your sadness.
You walked to Dale, and decided to meet Bard. You had nowhere to go, and maybe staying there would be good, before you'd go...somewhere else.
The guards let you in, and as you thought of going to Rivendell, you noticed Bard.
"Bard?" He turned to you, and nodded at you.
"Hi Y/N. What brings you here?" You sighed.
"I'm leaving Erebor, Bard...but the problem is, I need to think about of where-" you suddenly felt dizzy, and Bard catched you. He called for a healer, that's what your hazy mind could catch.
You basically woke up, in a room. On a bed. Comfortable bed.
"Lie still, lady Y/N," the healer said. You frowned a little, when she placed her ear to your stomach.
"I can hear the heartbeat clearly. The baby is most likely around three months old," she said.
"What baby?" You asked, confused. You looked from the healer to Bard and Bard to healer. She took your hands in hers.
"You don't know, my lady? You are pregnant. I can clearly hear the heartbeat of your child," she softly smiled at you. You shook your head, and felt a few tears escaping your eyes.
"I'm...I'm with child," you whispered. You could not believe it. So perhaps, it wasn't just stress...
"Who is the father?" The healer asked, when she helped you to sit up. You nervously looked in your lap.
"Kili. Prince...Kili. Kili Durin." You said, and Bard and the healer shared a look.
"He...he doesn't know. Can we keep it a secret? Please?" You looked at them.
They said yes. Bard was like a father to you, and let you stay. He showed you chambers, that would be your home for next few months at least.
You never went back to Erebor. You thought Kili had to marry the princess, so you just tried to think of the baby you were carrying.
It wasn't that hard, honestly. The baby was often restless, though.
As if it missed Kili as much as you did...
Even if the baby would have to grow up without it's biological dad, you were sure you'd be able to take care of them well.
Some days, you were happy, and didn't think of Kili too much. It pained you, yes, and you knew you had to be strong for the baby, so you often asked someone to teach you something, such as how to prepare different meals, how to knit or how to play piano, to name a few.
Other days, you felt sad. It could be because of the weather, or hormones, some days you just woke up sad, and sometimes it was when something reminded you of Kili. Those days, the baby was the most restless, and the maids told you it was because the baby missed it's father.
You sat down to the armchair next to the window in your bedroom, and looked out on the street. Nobody could see you from here, so it made you feel safe. You looked up and seen Erebor.
"There's your daddy, over there," you whispered to the baby.
The answer you got, was soft kick.
-
"Does it hurt?" Sigrid asked you, looking at your belly. You smiled at her.
"No, it doesn't." You stroke your stomach. You've been pregnant for past almost nine months. Bard was so kind and let you stay, and even offered you bigger chambers, which you gladly agreeded to. The chambers were perfect size, and the baby could have their own small room, overtime.
You let out shaky breath. You wanted Kili to know about all of this. To be there with you, talk to you and to the baby.
But, it was not possible. It would hurt his reputation, and perhaps even his marriage.
You dried your tears, and carefully stood up. Even as pregnant, you were able to stand up yourself, luckily quite easily. You felt very thankful for some of your genes being from the elves, because, as Bard explained to you, humans had it harder.
When you slowly got yourself out of the castle, you breathed in. The air smelled nicely - you smelled fresh bread, old leaves, fresh air from the lake. Mix of summer and autumn. You felt it was one of the last few warm days, before the typical autumn comes.
You looked around, and your cravings were begging you for some freshly baked, soft warm bread with fresh butter, melting on top of it. You thought of the crispiness of the bread's crust, and your mouth started watering. You groaned, when you felt how your stomach let you know some snack would come handy.
You slid your hand to your pocket, and made sure you have enough money.
You started walking, to find some bakery, and as you looked around, you noticed one on the other end of the street.
You let out a breath, and started walking towards the small store.
You were almost there, when you overheard a gasps, escaping a few young girls. You slowed down and listened to their conversation.
"Did you see him?"
"Yes, I did. Do you think it really is the Prince?"
"Of course he is! I mean, look at him. I'd recognize the hair clip everywhere." You frowned a little, when you suddenly realized it. You stopped walking, and felt hot wave running down your back, and liquid running down your leg.
You carefully looked down. It was clear.
You turned around, and - damn it! - your eyes locked with Kili's in the exact moment.
He started walking towards you. You clearly recognized happiness in his eyes, and relief.
"Y/N, where have you been those past months? I was worried about you," He said, and when he was near you, you recognized even the wet shine in his chocolate eyes. You felt sudden rush of guilt.
He must have notice the guilt on your face. Kili frowned a little, when he took a notice of your belly, under the dress.
"I-you..." You noticed it. He was holding back tears. You shook your head, as you tried to hold your own.
"Kili, it isn't like this...please trust me!" You felt another wave of heat running down your back, and stepped forward, but sudden dizzines made you take wrong step. Kili quickly catched you.
"Kili, I-this is, uh..."
"You moved on," he said. You shook your head.
"No, it's...you are the father," you said, but didn't notice what was his reaction, because suddenly, you realized what was going on, as you were holding your belly.
"I need to get back, and find a healer and midwife," you let out through your gritted teeth.
"We will get there quickly," Kili let out, and you had a feeling.
"Don't you dare to faint!" You let out.
Kili helped you to get back. You noticed Sigrid, and told her to quickly find healer. She didn't ask anything, and quickly runned away. You let out a groan and gripped Kili's arm.
"Lady Y/N, we need to get you to the room prepared for labour," the healer said, and checked on your belly.
When you got there, and changed into simple gown, you laid down as the healer told you.
Kili stayed there, and you were gripping his arm and hand.
"I'm not fucking letting you to sleep with me ever again," you said through gritted teeth. Kili took a shaky breath, and you shot him a glare.
"Don't you dare to faint, Kili Durin! You did put this baby inside me nine months ago, so now-"
"This is just the pain speaking from Lady Y/N, Prince Kili. Don't take it personally," Kili gulped and nodded.
"You're doing great, love," he said carefully. You let out a huff.
"I didn't finish! Now you will deal with me breaking your arm, because it hurts!" You almost yelled at him.
"I can see the head, my Lady!" The healer smiled.
"With this next contraction, you will push as much as you can!" The healer said.
"Okay, one, two, three-push!"
"You're doing great, dear. The baby is almost there," Kili tried to cheer you up.
"You have no idea how painful it is!" You screamed.
"My lady, this is going to be your last push, are you ready?" The healer looked up at you, and you nodded.
"One, two, three, push!" The healer let out. You gripped Kili's hand, and suddenly...
You heard a baby scream.
"It's a girl!" The healer said happily. You smiled, and let out some happy tears.
"You-you did it!" Kili said, and you wiped off your eyes.
"No, we did it," you muttered, and he kissed your cheek.
"How do you feel, Y/N?"
"I'm okay," you smiled. The midwife checked on you, and handed you your baby.
"Everything seems to be in order," she said and smiled. You smiled at her back. She was there for you for all those months, and you got close.
"Thank you so much," She nodded.
"I'll leave you alone," she said, and left.
You stroke the baby's cheek.
"How are we going to name her?" Kili whispered, and stroke the baby's chubby cheek. You shrugged.
"Well...I'm not sure. I was thinking of Arina," you said.
"It's...it's beautiful name," Kili said, and you realized he was crying.
"Kili...I'm so sorry for...for hiding it from you," you whispered. Kili shook his head.
"Love...it isn't your fault. Can I...can I hug you?" You nodded, and he slid his arm around your shoulders.
"If anything, it's my fault." He muttered.
"I should've known where did you go, and-"
"Shh," you said.
"We can talk about that later. Arina's asleep now."
You were quietly watching the baby. The midwife came back soon, to check on you and the baby, and when she left, Kili spoken up.
"We talked Uncle the marriges out." You nodded.
"You left Erebor by then already. I was looking everywhere for you, only if I knew-" you subtly interrupted him.
"I didn't know either. I wanted to go to Rivendell, but...then, I found out. It would be risky, so Bard let me stay here," You shrugged.
"Do you still want to leave, though?" Kili looked at you with sad eyes, when he looked away from your daughter. You shook your head.
"No." Kili grinned, and gently brushed his hand over your cheek.
"Just for your information...mum was going nuts when she found out about the arranged marriges. She likes you a lot." You smiled, and took Kili's hand in yours.
"Well...let's hope she likes her too," You looked at Arina's sleeping face.
You came back the next day. Kili had to go to Erebor that evening, but in the morning, he came back.
When you entered, you overheard a strong female voice. You quickly realized who was the woman.
"I don't care my brother has a meeting. Go tell him he has to come here. It's a family emergency," she said, and turned to you and Kili.
"Y/N, where have you-oh, who is this?" Dis turned to you, and noticed the baby. You shared a look with Kili.
"This is your granddaughter," You said carefully. Dis looked between you and Kili, and it seemed like most things clicked to her. She smiled.
"Well..."
"Dis, what does that means?" Thorin's voice came from different hall, and you noticed Fili giving you a knowing smile.
"Thorin..." you said, and he turned to you. He seemed to be confused, but then he looked at Arina.
"What does this-"
"Uncle, let's get some privacy first," Fili said.
When you came to library, Thorin turned to you. Dis stood up, as if she would want to protect you.
"Uncle...Y/N and I started courting on the quest in secret. We planned to get married, but when you announced the arranged marriges for me and Fili, we-"
"I left Erebor, because I thought you would never accept me as partner for your nephew, Thorin. I found out I was pregnant, however, I didn't want to hurt Kili's reputation or his marrige, so I never came back to announce it. He met me in Dale yesterday, and I, um...I went to labour." Thorin has been looking at you and Kili. Your body was tense, and Fili, Kili and Dis were ready to protect you any moment.
Thorin slowly closed this eyes, and placed his face into his palms. When he looked up again, he let out a sigh.
"Fili, Kili, sister, leave us alone."
"But Uncle-" Fili said, but Thorin shook his head.
"I said, leave us alone. It won't be long." They three left, and you were a bit afraid.
"Kili is a prince, yes. But, he is also a dwarf, who needs to have someone who he is happy with." Thorin said, looking away from you.
"I noticed, of course. You make him happy, Y/N. I thought it was just childish love, that you would leave, and it would break Kili's heart. I owe you honest apology, Y/N. For thinking you wouldn't take his love seriously." He looked at you, and you let out a small smile. You nodded.
"Apology accepted, Thorin. Courting Kili makes me incredibly happy, and I am honored to say he is my lover," you said, and Thorin looked at you.
"Well, and when it comes to, um...you staying, you can stay here. If you would like to."
"I'd be very thankful."
A few years later
"Fi, look!" Kili said, as Arina walked towards Kili, again. She was giggling, as her father was dancing with her. You laughed.
"Kili, be careful!"
"Daddy, look!" The little girl pointed to a butterfly, who sat on her dress.
"Yeah, it's beautiful," Kili said, and she pouted.
"Don't move, or it will fly away!" Arina let out, and let the butterfly gently walk on her palm.
"Uncle, look, I got a butterfly!" Arina showed it to Fili, who nodded with nervous face.
"Oh, it's beautiful, Ari. Would you put it, um, a bit away from me, please?" She put the butterfly on a flower, and Fili let out a breath.
"I'm sleepy, mommy." She came to you, and lean her head on your shoulder.
"Ari?" A little boy came, and the girl jumped up with grin.
"Vili!" She squealed, and started tickling her cousin.
"Granny!" Arina gasped, when she noticed Dis.
"You are growing up so fast, Ari!" She said proudly, and you two shared a look.
"Aye, that's what she does," Kili let out a chuckle, and gently kissed your cheek.
321 notes · View notes
levihantrash · 3 years
Text
Priorities
For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions
Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!
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Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.
note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching
cross-posted on ao3 🤪
-----
Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.
Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.
Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).
Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.
Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.
“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”
Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.
“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.
“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.
While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.
“You’re the only one here who can bake.”
Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.
“Go ask Petra.”
Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.
“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.
"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.
“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.
In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.
Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.
"I thought you were busy!"
Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"
“I guess?”
The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.
"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.
"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."
Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."
"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.
“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”
Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.
"What do you want to bake?"
Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"
"Bread isn’t easy."
Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.
"Let's do it anyway!"
“Suit yourself.”
-----
The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.
“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.
“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.
“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.
“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.
“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.
Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.
Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.
To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.
“Stop distracting me.”
“Oh, am I?”
One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.
"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"
“Titans don’t have—”
“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.
Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”
“You know what I was going to say.”
“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”
Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.
“You little shit.”
Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”
“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”
Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”
“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?
“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.
An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.
Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.
To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.
“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.
“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.
The door creaked open.
“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.
With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.
“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”
“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.
“Huh?”
“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.
“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.
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mochiable · 3 years
Text
anonymous request: hi bub, i don’t know if you’re still taking requests but i wanted to ask for a namjoon drabble or one shot about him and reader meeting on the bus and namjoon asking them out. a lot of fluff and cheesiness pleaseeee. thank you sm!
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— rainy route.
pairing namjoon x gn!oc. genre fluff. wc 2.8k
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The raindrops fell heavily, without stopping. They pounded the ground angrily, unleashing all their fury on the dark, wet pavement. People were running, looking for somewhere to take shelter from the rain. You just watched them, scrutinising them with your eyes and pondering why they would escape the rain, it was just water, just that, liquid falling from the sky.
You jumped into a puddle, splashing and getting mud on your shoes. You smiled sideways, wiggling your feet from side to side. Your father was going to kill you when he saw you.
As you got closer to the bus stop, the silhouette of a tall, hooded boy became clearer and clearer. As soon as you recognised him, your feet anchored themselves to the ground, forbidding you to walk any further and bringing you closer and closer to the boy. Now was the moment when you regretted not having taken an umbrella with you, the moment when you were ashamed of your soaked clothes, of your broken, craggy hair and above all of your muddy shoes. God, he must have seen you jump over that puddle.
Slowly your feet revived and you started walking towards the bus stop. Facing your fateful destiny you managed to get under the shelter of the roof, although nothing made sense anymore. You tried to ignore the male presence standing a few feet away from you, but you couldn't help but feel your heart pounding in your chest.
His name is unknown information. You knew absolutely nothing about him, only that he was damned handsome and generous. You saw him every day when he came to take the bus home. For months you had the opportunity to watch him from a distance, trying to camouflage your curiosity, but not quite managing to disguise it. You tried to convince yourself that it was impossible for him to notice your constant glances, but deep inside you knew there was a possibility that every time he turned towards you it was because he felt your eyes on his profile.
In any case, even if you had never spoken to him, you felt more than fortunate every time he flashed you his cute smile as a greeting. You had the luxury of thinking that those smiles were only and exclusively for you, scattering from your mind the thoughts that that's what he did with everyone.
“It's turning into a downpour, isn't it?”, his voice brought you out of your reverie, startling you slightly. You turned your head slightly and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He had his eyes fixed on the sky, watching the raindrops over the top of his glasses.
You looked down slightly and with your right hand you pinched your thigh, trying to prove that the boy was really talking to you. You groaned at the pain you inflicted on yourself, causing the boy to turn his gaze towards you and look at you with curious eyes. Noticing this, you raised your head and looked straight ahead, watching the cars pass by and the water on the road being lifted by their wheels. “Yeah.”
And that's how you kill the only possible conversation you'll ever have with the guy you like.
“God, you're soaking wet. Did you fall in a puddle?”, fortunately I didn't notice any hint of mockery in his question, which somehow managed to make me relax. Just a little.
“No,” you let out a nasal laugh and tried to control your breathing, praying to God your voice wouldn't break. “It's just that I didn't bring an umbrella and I found it stupid to stand under some doorway.”
“Stupid?”, now it was his turn to laugh. Holly fuck, his laugh. You had just found your favourite sound. No doubt you could stay for hours listening to it. “You could have made yourself sick. In fact... yes, I think you already got sick”, in less than a second you found him in front of you, to see his face you had to look up. He brought his hand up to your face and with his index finger quickly touched the tip of your nose. "It's red," he informed you, smiling with sealed lips and raising his cheekbones.
The effort you made at that moment to keep from screaming was beyond any physical exercise you had been able to do so far. Your bones ached, and it wasn't especially because of the cold.
You stood still, the air catching in your throat and your pupils twitching as your eyes connected with his. You were about to say something, but were interrupted by the loud sound of a horn. You both turned your heads and both your eyes and mouth widened as you watched the bus swerve around a car and pass the bus stop. You closed your eyes tightly and leaned forward to keep all the standing water on the ground from caressing your back as little as possible.
However, the lashing of the water never came. That tall boy had been quick enough to roll you over yourself, grabbing your biceps and covering your body with his, as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders in a tight embrace. He groaned at the cold sensation of the water crashing against his back, at the same time as you gasped in astonishment, unable to see beyond the grey fabric of his hoodie.
Did he just do what I think he did?
After a few seconds he separated his body from mine and looked down at me with a worried expression. He tilted his head subtly to make sure I wasn't any wetter than I was before. Seeing how my clothes were safe from another dip, he turned and pulled off his hood, shaking out his hair and running his fingers through it.
I must have looked like a fool, but it was impossible for me not to open my mouth slightly at the sight. My eyes had decided to stop blinking just so I wouldn't miss a second of that beautiful sight.
“Why did you do that,” I asked once I had come out of my trance and approached him. I pawed a little at his sweatshirt, inevitably soaking my hand. He looked at me in confusion, as if what had just happened was hours ago. “You're completely wet! Have you lost your mind?”
Still with his head half-bent and with several strands of hair falling over his eyes, he turned to look at you and smiled. You felt yourself melt at that very moment - how could an already naturally attractive person be even more so? Was that even possible?
“You're worse off than I am. Don't worry, it'll dry,” he replied, repositioning his sweatshirt with one hand as he shook out his other hand to look at the time.
The bus we were both waiting for finally arrived and you both approached the curb to get on. He let you pass first, so you gave him a smile as a thank you. While you were looking for the bus card so you could pay for the trip, he went to find a seat. You finally managed to get your card and as soon as you had paid you made your way to your seat.
You had intended to sit in the front seats, but in the distance you saw the as-yet-unnamed boy raise his arm and wave to you, then point to the empty seat next to him. Not believing that he could be talking to you, you turned your head in case there was someone behind you, but obviously there wasn't. You turned again and pointed to yourself with your index finger touching your chest. You heard a soft chuckle from him and saw him nod his head repeatedly. Feeling your cheeks slowly turning pink, you walked towards him while trying to hide your face with the collar of your jacket.
“I hope you don't mind sitting with someone who looks like they've just had a shower,” he joked once you sat down next to him. You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Sitting next to you is a dream come true, you thought.
“That's what I should be telling you. I don't think you're any worse off than I am,” you replied, looking down at your own clothes and wiggling your feet, making the wet soles squeak on the bus floor.
“What do you mean worse? A bus bathed me whole!”, his eyes widened as he shook his hands in exaggerated gestures to prove his point.
“I lied to you. I jumped over every puddle I came across on the way here. I'm worse, end of discussion,” you rebutted, glaring at him with challenging eyes and watching devotedly as two cute dimples formed on his cheeks. Oh, I’d do anything to see them every day.
“Well, look on the bright side. We won't need to shower for a long time,” he joked again pulling a laugh from your throat and getting irritated looks from the other passengers the second he did. You both inclined your heads towards them in apology and laughed softly again as soon as your eyes met.
It might seem strange, but even though you had only known him for five minutes, there was a peace and tranquillity in talking to him that you had rarely felt when meeting another person. As if everything was in its place, as if everything fitted together perfectly.
But the warm interaction was interrupted by the freezing air that forced its way through the doors of the bus. Making your skin crawl and causing a chill that went up your spine. You prayed that the boy sitting next to you hadn't noticed, but he did, and in less than a second he'd already offered you his seat, which was further from the doors, and from which his body could protect you.
“Kim Namjoon,” he said suddenly. You unconsciously turned your head and saw his eyes fixed where the driver was. You stood for a few seconds in silence waiting for an answer until he turned his gaze towards you and showed you his white, straight teeth. “My name is Kim Namjoon, what is your name?”
“I am Ahn Chungae,” you replied quietly, watching in awe as his eyes glistened in the direct light of the moon's rays.
“It's a pleasure, Ahn Chungae,” he repeated in a whisper. You didn't know if it was your imagination, but his face was getting closer and closer to yours, and you couldn't help but wonder what must be going through his mind.
At that moment you turned your head towards the window and stood quietly staring at the foggy glass in front of you. Trying to avoid his gaze at all costs, you drew a sad face on the window, keeping your fingers glued to the glass as you looked through it at the lights of the city. Seconds later Namjoon's hand came into contact with yours, causing you to stop breathing for a moment. He carefully wrapped his hand around your fingers and moved them, drawing what would have been two eyes on the opposite side of the ones you had previously drawn, now forming a smiley face. Then he released your hand, which you placed in your lap, and you watched as his fingers would make their way through the steam from the window, writing two letters: RM.
“RM?”, that question sprang to your lips. Namjoon put his arm in front of your face, resting his hand on the glass. You turned and raised your head, meeting his angelic face, looking at you with a curiosity that made your stomach churn.
“I'm in a rap group, that's what my friends call me,” he laughed as his arm returned to a normal position. He was quiet for a few seconds, staring at you and scanning your face patiently. “Do you have any nicknames?”
“I think the closest thing to a nickname I have is 'Peach'?” you replied after you had organised all your thoughts.
“Why 'Peach'?” he asked curiously, bringing the side of his body closer to yours, coming to brush against your shoulders in a subtle way.
You couldn't help but blush when that question came out of his mouth. “My father started calling me that because when I was little I used to climb on the kitchen chairs to reach the peaches so I could eat them,” you admitted, a little embarrassed, trying to erase the image of you with a completely smudged face from your memory.
“How old were you?” “Two,” you replied with a giggle, eliciting a laugh from him as well.
“You sure were a beautiful baby,” he said bumping his shoulder against yours in an effort to embarrass you further.
“Stop it,” you groaned with laughter bringing your hands up to your face and hiding it from his eyes. You heard his laughter again and felt his warm hands come to rest on yours, pulling them away from your face.
“Don't cover yourself, please. I like your eyes,” he complimented you, unaware that he was causing a whirlwind of emotions to run wild inside you. How could he say all those beautiful words to you as if they were nothing? Did he not have compassion?
With nothing more to say, an awkward silence formed between the two of you. He seemed to be calm, staring straight ahead and humming a song your ears were unfamiliar with. You watched him out of the corner of your eye and tried not to shout. Say something! Talk to him! But nothing came out of your mouth.
“Chungae?” he spoke suddenly, snapping you out of your self-destructive thoughts and making you turn to him. “How old are you?” he asked nervously, fiddling with his fingers trying to slow his heart rate.
“Twenty-two, why?” you inquired back, furrowing your brows in confusion.
Namjoon sighed in what seemed like a sense of relief, which further fueled my doubts. “It's just that I wanted to make sure I wouldn't go to prison for asking you out.”
A smile settled on your face without warning giving away your answer in less than half a second.
“Don't worry, you could always say I made you think I'm of age,” you played along, suddenly feeling more confident.
“While I'm handcuffed and forced to keep quiet? Or better yet behind bars?” he joked, cupping his hand to his chin and leaning in your direction.
“I'd come visit you,” you assured him, leaning in his direction as well.
A smile formed on his lips and he moved closer to me, “Let's have a date, Chungae, tomorrow.”
Again you cursed being wet from head to toe, the shivering it gave you only made your nerves run high. You couldn't look him in the face from the embarrassment that suddenly hit you, so you decided to look over to where a man was sleeping with his mouth open, praying for strength.
“Why should I accept?” you asked in a whisper, rolling the laces of your sweatshirt with your fingers. “I don't know you at all, you could be any kind of freak,” you continued, finally daring to look him in the face.
“Well, I'm a little clueless... and clumsy. Very clumsy, I don't know how I haven't done anything stupid yet with how nervous I am,” he admitted with flushed cheeks. “But we know each other. We've been on the same bus for months and I know perfectly well that you don't stop staring at me until I get off at my stop,” he argues, leaving you in a state of surprise, you definitely hadn't been anything but disguised.
“How can you be so sure?” you asked, playing dumb. You couldn't believe he'd actually figured it out.
“Because I don't stop looking at you until I get off either,” he replied, making your heart skip a beat. What had he just said?
You rested your arms on the back of the empty seat in front of you and then put your head on them. He looked really cute with his cheeks slightly pink and avoiding your gaze. You were trying to look brave at the time, but the truth is that you were waiting to get home so you could scream with excitement.
“So...” as soon as you opened your mouth to speak, he looked at you and froze when he saw that you were also looking at him, and realising that you had already been doing it for a while, “since I'm legal, you can ask me out on a date.”
“I... Sorry about that, maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all,” he spoke haltingly as he looked away again, action that brought a smile to your lips. Oh, how the table had turned.
“Alright,” you blurted out suddenly, facing him and bumping your back against the window. He looked back at you with a confused expression. “See you tomorrow at the usual stop.”
That's how you got a smile out of him, one that wouldn't be the last and which was the author of the future ones.
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all rights reserved © mochiable 2021 | reposts, modifications, translations, or spinoffs of any kind are prohibited.
a/n: hi guys! it’s been a long time. i’m sorry for being so inactive these last few months, but i’m in my last year of high school and i had to concentrate on my studies. anyway, as an apology i bring you this one shot i had unfinished in drafts. i hope you like it, and don't hesitate to let me know what you think, i love knowing your opinion about my work. also, thanks for the 300 notes in jaehyun's two posts, it means a lot to me, thanks for the support. see you soon!
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we-dragons · 3 years
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I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 9 Damian x reader
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"What is this place, why is it shaped like a T?" We stand on an island with this enormous building smack in the center of it the sunset shade casting a large shadow over us, I can't get over how ridiculous it looks. Or contemplate my confusion, Nightmare makes an unimpressed huff and nuzzles back into my shoulder.
"Titan's tower."
"why would this be a good place to hide? It's the most obvious building here, I ran with you for several days I'm beginning to think I would be safer under my floorboards." He walks up to the doors and pulls out a card holding it in front of the circular panel. It beeps and a clicking noise comes from the door.
"Believe me this would be a better place for you." I sigh a form of any and all anxiety pools in my body, but I still meet him at the now unlocked door.
"Alright fine but you need to explain to me why here of all places."
"When we get inside." The doors swing open, the area behind it lights up leading to what I assume is an elevator. I'm pulled inside not giving me a chance to look around. "Hey!" He doesn't answer but pulls us into the elevator, I don't see him push a button but we almost immediately move up. It's fast but not as fast as the one I had to go down for training at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Though the feeling is familiar and I start missing my classmates all over again. I rub the wrist that Damian was holding to dragging me here. Nightmare growls at the space moving him and interrupting his nap. The space stops and the door opens to an open space that looks like a large living room. a white angled couch a large kitchenette and an impossibly large TV by open glass windows. The room has several people all staring at us, my anxiety hits me tenfold and I take a step back. A hand is at my shoulder the moment I do and pushes slowly while moving itself. The doors close signaling that I'm truly stuck here, a woman with Neon pink hair and bronze skin zooms up to us.
"It's so good to see you, and I see you brought a friend. Richard has been looking all over for you."
"I know that's why you can't tell him we're here." I'm pushed forward. "She's a mutant possessing the X-Gene, my father wants to interrogate her for the information, she needs to stay here till a better solution becomes present. Can she stay here?"
"Well of course she can stay-"
"What?!" Nightmare jumps from my arms and hisses. I walk backward, taking in this new information. "How did, you find out when-when." Fear creeps how long had he known how much trouble was or might be in. But he didn't mention this. but then again why would he. How does he know about the X-Gene though, from the research I did there were none here with it. The closest there was were Metahumans but even they didn't have anything close. My back hits the wall and I return to the world Nightmare growls standing guard in front of me. Everyone who was in the room now stood in front of me, a boy that was green from head to toe, another girl in a purple cloak and unitard, and another boy with something attached to his back. The pink-haired woman steps forward, but Nightmare swats at her yowling as a warning to keep away. She raises her hands in surrender but looks at me.
"There is no need to be afraid, I knew people like you, Jean Grey, Cyclops. they came here by accident once a few friends and I helped them get back. It would have been 7 years ago now." Damian steps forward Ignoring Nightmare, guilt is painted slightly on his face he tries to coax me from the wall. "I'm sorry I knew since the time you showed me, I checked my recorder after that visit and played it back home in front of everyone. I was to find out more from you and report back after we scanned those samples that healed me. When we were ready I was supposed to bring you back with me for interrogation with confirmation of your mother's research." Something snaps inside me and I glare at him.
"So all that was for those stupid journals. Wow, for how long were you faking nice. No, don't tell me it'll just feel worse. " I put a hand on my face willing the emotions of confusion to stop. A crackling noise makes its self known in front of me followed by screams.
"Holy Crap that thing has tentacles coming from its face!"
"Ahh!"
I gasp at the sight Nightmare had gone full flerken and is attempting to drag Damian in. I lunge at Nightmare dragging him across the floor. He lets go of Damian but he hasn't changed back to cat form. "Nightmare No! Calm down I'm fine I swear it! Stop!" The black fuzzball retracts his tentacles and hisses at the crowd.
"I'm sorry, he gets like that when he sees me upset sometimes. Not sure if you have them here but he's half flerken, they look like cats but they're quite deadly." I set Nightmare down and he crawls behind my legs once again hissing particularly at the green boy how has gotten closer, he turns into a green cat making Nightmare run in the process. Damian limps forward his leg is bleeding through his suit. I would let that heal naturally if only wounds inflicted by Nightmares in the flerken form never heal normally on their own.
"Y/N these are the Titans, the one mimicking your," he waves his hand in the air as if to find the world. "flerken is Garfield." He points to Nightmare being chased my the green cat attempting to lose him. The bronze woman glides forward stomping a foot from me the others followed behind.
"Hello my name is Starfire you can call me Kori, this here is Raven," She points to the purple girl then moves her other hands to the boy. "and this is Jaime. We are pleased to have you here Y/N." She grabs my hand pulling me away from the middle of the room where I had landed. "Now let's get you settled in I'll talk to Damian for a bit after." Nightmare notices my leaving and jumps onto my right sholder hissing at the green-skinned boy.
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I honestly don't know how to feel, to be honest, I should have guessed it so it's my fault. I could have left him and then this wouldn't have happened, but then he would have died in my apartment. Could have been more hostile, but then he definitely would have gone with the kidnapping strategy and I would be already in the hand of batman. Now I'm in the known world of their superheroes, the superheroes know about the Crows and they know about the X-gene. That information can go from good to bad in minutes. Though Kori did know about Jean and Scott, though it was years ago they have traveled through many universes with a small team. I would have been about 10 when this happened and my mother didn't take me there for classes till I was 12. In their lectures, they didn't mention anything like this they did bring in Doctor Strange to teach those of us who could understand how to perform magic. I Now I'm sitting on an insanely comfortable bed knees curled up to my chest just reminiscing. I have been told to use my abilities only when necessary as not to attract any unwanted attention. But what did I do, I screw up my chances of living normally till Doc Strange can pull me back only to find I'm not in my home where I should be. Everything was going so smoothly till now.
The door opens behind me and by the almost silent footfalls, I can tell it's Damian. Nightmare has jumped into my arms forcing me to let go off my legs and watch as the boy drags a chair to face me.
"I suppose you want the whole story now," I said barely looking at him.
"I wasn't going to talk about that yet."
"What did you think you would find in the journals that my mother wrote?"
"An answer on how to stop the Crows."
"You most likely will."
"Than what's in them."
I sigh looking him dead in the eye, pulling myself together for this.
"My mother didn't only study history, in my dimension, she studied all sorts of fields one day she was asked to study something and was gone for almost six months. We hardly heard from her but just enough to know she was alive so naturally when she came back she swore me into secrecy. She explained that she had gone to another world entirely, she studies with them and when she came back more time had passed than when she was there. One journal explaining how she got the and how to get in and another explaining what she found, and the rules for everything she experienced there. She learned things no human should know and kept it from the people she worked for and everyone else. She-she found Avalon, lived among the fey in return for her curiosity and genuine interest they helped her make a guide and history of all fairy and Fae both the pure and the equally disturbed." I reach in my bag and pull out the books from missing from the very research my mother so loved. One being ordinary leather-bound and the other two bear a glowing purple gem on both sides of a very purple dark Tome thick and pooling with some sort of energy as the gem. I give him a serious look gripping both books. "She left it to me but I haven't read them yet, I...I couldn't bring myself to. It might be better used in your hands anyway. Though I shouldn't I still trust you for some reason, so under the conditions that you only use what you find for the better of those in need you may find your information. The journals, however, will stay within my sight understood." He nods, I start to give the leather books to him he stops me.
"I don't want to see them before you," He takes the books from my hands and places them back in the bag. "If you are convinced that I should still read them, then I will convince where ever you wish to study them." He sits on the bed next to me staring out the window. "What I want to talk about is how we get Father not to view you as a threat and as a friend. I went over it with Starfire and we both agree this is the best option." He pauses before he continues. "We're you a hero in your world?"
"You want me to do hero's work and gain a positive reputation so that he's more willing to work with me than slowly forcing out of me."
"Yes."
"How do you know about the X-gene?"
"It was in our database from when Jean Grey and Cyclops had visited. They helped take down an invasion of the skrul and took them back with them to their own dimension. Father took some DNA samples to work with and ask about their abilities. There are entire folders on the subject alone." He pauses again running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"Not for that, for everything else."
"Yes that is very much on you but it's also on me. But if I had left you with Crow poison in your blood you would either turn into an undead flesh puppet in my room or die. That would not have gone down well for either of us. I was also mostly upset you broke my window and wanted compensation," I see him visibly tense and clench his teeth. "and didn't even bother to say thank you."
"I Fixed your awful goddammed window isn't that thanks enough." He glares at me.
"Was it? After all, you did spy on me and report it to the Dark Knight." I fall back onto the bed. "There's no getting out of this now might as well get used to it."
"You shouldn't be this comfortable with what's happening, I wouldn't"
"Then why are you smiling ya weirdo, It's almost creepy."
"Tsk, just hand me your computer so I can pull up Star Trek, I would like to finish and begin the movies." I hand him my laptop and he walks over to the wall in front of the bed.
"Um, you know we watch on that computer you making a get away with."
"Yes but the enormous 4k TV is here." He pushes a button I didn't even see before and as promised a TV appears. He smirks at what I assume is my expression. He opens my computer and within minutes Star Trek is cast on the TV. "Please hold your applause till after the show."
"Did you just make a joke? Are you joking now?"
"Aren't I allowed to have a sense of humor?" I Look at Nightmare who has the same thought in his head and I look back at Damian.
"Nope, Nada, No way."
"You know, you're the only one who has talked to me that way and lived."
"I should consider myself lucky then huh."My gaze falls to his leg, It's poorly bandaged so I pull my scales and Med-kit from my bag. " But before I forget I need to treat your leg before your tissue becomes necrotic. You can watch while I work, but you need to swallow one more of the "glittered plastic"."
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"How do you make them?"
"The scales?" I pause stoping the wrap on the angry-looking tentacle mark on his skin.
"What do you think I was talking about?" I smile evilly.
"I thought you were talking about my jokes and wonderful sense of humor." I tie off the bandage and put away my first aid kit. "But If you must know it has to rain first, and I have to be in it. The acidity in the rain is was caused the scales to form but there has to be enough of it. In Gotham, the rain has plenty of it, It soaks into my skin and drains my health which is why I was sick for so long. In return for taking my health, the scales form with healing agents that even baffle me. Normally I would take one and feel fine after but someone decided to take them."
"Do you pull them off?"
"Takes too long and much too painful, I just pour scalding hot water on myself and they pull away from the skin. I clean them and there you have it. Health restoring scales." He stares at me, like I said I pour milk before cereal and then pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds in that order.
"Aren't there better ways to remove them?"
"Yes, but those are back at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters I couldn't pack it with me so I had to find other methods."
He silent again so I put my stuff in the closet, take my Suit out from the bag, and place it on the hanger, the vibranium fibers shimmer in the soft lights then I stuff the rest of my things in there. I have to tell Professor Xavier what's happened on the check update next week with any luck the multi-functional com-piece found the data by now and I can see what they already know. I inwardly sigh, closing the closet and making my way back to the bed. I see Damian drawn into the scene playing on the screen, Data has made his sacrifice saving the Enterprise. I wasn't expecting to last the cleaning to last that long, but then again the poisons from the suction cups dug deeper than I thought. I put some more things away in drawers even though I didn't have much to bring. "We probably should head to bed, I imagine I have to do a proper introduction and demonstrate some form of my power."
"Yes, probably." He gets up grabbing the two scales I gave him for when he starts feeling pain again. Moving swiftly to the door, he takes one more look back then leaves. My eyes fall on Nightmare who sleeps soundly on the end of the bed. I Climb into the warm comforter letting the warmth surround me. I don't even notice myself drifting till all I can hear is static signaling that tonight was going to be a dreamless one.
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"What exactly can you do?" Starfire walks me down to the center of a metallic room filled with weapons and tools, no doubt the training room. I look around more absorbing the room but still answer the question.
"If I see something I can almost instantly learn it or adapt to it, powers, fighting styles, languages I just have to see or hear it. I've had to control it in order not to learn everything and overload happened one time was not pretty."
"What do you mean by almost instantly?"
"Things like shape-shifting are hard to master, but if I concentrate enough I can alter my physical appearance though it takes five minutes to get there and can't hold the form very well after an hour. The first time I saw someone change form my body tried to copy it but I broke my hand instead. But oddly enough I can learn most other powers and knowledge just fine."
"Really? Well just to check could you copy this?" Starfire lifts her hand and green energy forms around it. I lift my hand to match hers and form the same energy in my body, though not green It's a lilac purple. "Sorry still have trouble getting the colors right." The woman stares in awe at my hand, the knowledge of how to use the ability is stored in my memory. I turn my hand light off and look around. She had given me the tour of the building and probably saved this for last to test what I can do. They did the same at XSFGY and had us fight in the ever-changing challenge/training room. I hear the door open and two cheery voices call out.
"Hey Y/N, about to train?" Garfield, the boy in green calls out from the railing where the door is accompanied by Jamie how still looks half asleep.
"I was just about to test her now, could you all stay there, I'm going to pull the full immersion-based training." She floats to a podium on the far side of the room. the area around me pixelated before stilling into a jungle heat and all. Monsters appear from the undergrowth enough level but not easy looking. I raise two fingers to the sky and strike lightning on them Increasing the voltage when one didn't go down, I even open a few portals in the body to warp holes from the flesh. It took about a few minutes to finish and for the simulation to fall. The dark misty cloud vanishes when I flick my wrist. I hear cheering from the side, I turn to face them everyone was now there.
"No way! Did you just see that!!" Jamie is now wide awake sharing an amazing look with Garfield, Raven is a little shocked, while Damian holds a stoic face. I feel a hand on my shoulder and follow it up to the orange-haired woman. I don't catch that she isn't stopping and is dragging me out of the room. With the way her hand had angled, I dragged out facing the other people in the room. She moves so fast that they get so small to quickly "You did excellently today, I'm so happy to welcome you to the team! We shall celebrate with a feast fit for kings and I shall cook it."
"Wait!"
"Kori!"
"Aw hell no!"
"YOU COOKED THE OTHER DAY!"
They all start running after us, shouting and trying to stop the woman. I feel refreshed after getting the OK for using my powers finally releasing some of the tension I've felt. I feel exhausted though, probably anticipating all the social interactions yet to come.
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lovemalecforever · 3 years
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Chapter 12
Family isn't always blood
Alec looked at his Parabatai then to his sister then to him again and sighed heavily before speaking. "Because there is something I want to talk about which needs all of your presence."
"Excuse me!?" Jace exclaimed, "Alec, I can feel your nervousness, what is going on? You're making me scared buddy, we almost lost yo-"
"Jace, calm down. I'll tell you when everyone will be here, and it's nothing bad, okay?"
Even after the reassurance, Jace was still not convinced. He could feel how scared and nervous Alec was through their bond. There were so many probabilities running through his mind, minding that Magnus wasn't there with him when that man never leaves his brother alone.
"Jace, stop. I can literally feel you getting stressed up, I told you, Jace, it's nothing, just... wait for a while."
Jace sighed and nodded. He had met his Parabatai, his brother after a long time, and making him upset or angry was the last thing he wanted. "Sorry Alec, but really, you told Izzy that you're coming but not me? Seriously? Am I not important to you anymore?" he dramatically put his hand over his chest. "You have hurt me, dude."
Alec rolled his eyes. "Stop being overdramatic, Jace. Besides, the look on your face told me that it was worth it."
"Boyzzz!" Izzy interrupted, shaking her head at her brothers for their silliness. "So, big brother, whom do you want to meet first, Clary or Simon?" Out of everyone, Izzy knew really well that Alec considers them family now, remembering the fact that he admitted it when she and Simon visited him.
"It's been long I've seen nugget in training mode. I would like to see her training and meanwhile, tell Simon to come here, I want to talk to you both privately before talking to everyone else."
"What the hell!? Alec, First, stop giving my girlfriend these stupid nicknames, and second what are you guys are up to?"
"Jace, stop." Izzy spoke firmly, "Don't bombard our brother with questions, he just arrived. And, besides, I want to see how Clary's doing so can we move now?"
"Fine, let's go." Jace sighed, and they left for the training room.
While heading towards the training room, Alec didn't miss the changes that had been made at the Institute, especially the weapons room. He knew he made the right decision to make his sister the Head of the Institute when he accepted the post of Inquisitor at Alicante, and she's doing a brilliant job. He couldn't help but feel proud of his sister.
It's been around an hour since Clary started her training, her hair was tied up in a ponytail, she was wearing a perfectly fitted navy blue sports bra with red stripes on it, the back having cross straps with blue-grey yoga pants and red and blue colored sports shoes. Her hands were wrapped in boxing bandages, blowing punches and kicks to the punching bag, which had now started to tear.
"Slow down Parabatai, looks like you're having a bad day, or did you not get it last night, huh?" Izzy teased as she walked towards her soon-to-be Parabatai, a smirk playing on her face, and Jace's face flushed.
"Izzy, Hey!" Clary greeted then held the towel that Izzy offered her. "And to answer your question, both. Bad day because Jace was being an idiot last night, and this morning too." She said, making Izzy burst into laughter.
"Really Clary, discussing our sex life with my sister!? Not appreciated!" Jace said as he walked in.
"She's my best friend, Herondale. I can discuss whatever I want." Clary shrugged and snatched the water bottle that he offered her.
"Oops! Looks like someone screwed up badly." Izzy said while suppressing her laugh, earning a glare from Jace.
Clary almost choked on the water she was drinking and dropped the bottle on the floor in the process when her eyes fell on the third person present in that room, standing by the door frame.
"ALEC!"
"Hello, Carrot!" Alec walked in and laughed when she literally jumped on him. "Get down, carrot, you're drenched in sweat."
"Really! Carrot, Carrot!? Seriously, Alec, I told you to stop giving her names, don't you-"
"I find it cute," Clary said, interrupting her boyfriend and making him dumbfounded. "Alec, when did you come? And where's Magnus?" She asked when her excitement died down and was back on her feet.
"Just now, and Magnus didn't come, I had some work."
"Okay, now I'm jealous, what had Simon done, big brother? Jace? Why do you both treat him like that?" Izzy pouted.
"I like him, but that vampire gets under my skin sometimes. No offense, Izzy." Jace said flatly.
"Izzy, Simon had done nothing, you know I like him, I just don't feel like being like that around him. There's nothing else." Alec reassured, making her sigh.
Izzy's phone buzzed, breaking their chain of conversation. She picked it up to check the message. "It's Si, he'll be here in some time. Your room or my office?" She asked.
"In my room," Alec answered while Jace and Clary kept glancing between the siblings. "I'll tell you both later."
Clary nodded. "I'm going to get a shower, see you later, Alec." With that, she picked up her stuff and left the hall.
"Wait, Clary! Excuse me!" Jace said hurried after his girlfriend leaving the other two laughing at their situation.
"It's good to have her back, you know," Izzy said when they both left the room. "Jace is a different person now, and happier too."
"I know. I can feel it. I'm happy for him, he deserves this. Looking back at how broken he was 3 years ago, I'm really happy that Clary got her memories back. They didn't deserve what happened 5 years ago."
"What's wrong!?" She asked when she noticed an unknown expression clouding her brother's face.
"Izzy, promise me you won't tell Jace what I'm about to say, else I won't hear the end of it."
Izzy raised her brow but eventually nodded.
"You know how much I used to hate Clary when she first came into our lives, she's still annoying, but looking at her now, at them, they are meant for each other, they complete each other. And I'm really happy that they found each other, all over again." He said, having a bright smile on his face.
"You're right, big brother. Jace will never stop teasing you if he'll hear what you just said. And, I agree, they are meant for each other."
Clary came back to their lives almost two and a half years ago. It took her almost a year and a half after meeting Jace at her painting exhibition to regain her memories of the shadow world. When she remembered Jace at the alley of the building where her exhibition was held, Jace frequented their meetings in the hope that she'd remember everything but hid it from everyone else. That was until Simon found out and confronted him, in the process bumping into her becoming the second person she remembered.
Clary always had an empty space in her heart, a void, which kept telling her that something was missing. That was until she met Jace, and she knew that she knew him from somewhere. There were bits and pieces in her mind of a club, bike riding, or some similar events, but they were never complete.
When both boys told everyone about Clary, it was Magnus who advised them to take things slow and not rush her memories. She met everyone, remembered them one by one, Luke being the third one, then Jocelyn, followed by the incomplete memory of her death, which resulted in regaining her memories at a great pace.
What broke the floodgates of her memories was when Jace and Clary were returning from their date, and they were attacked by a shapeshifting demon, which Clary killed with complete ease, shocked at first, but the sudden appearance and disappearance of her runes made her remember that she's a Shadowhunter.
The most beautiful thing which happened between all this was Clary fell in love with Jace all over again, oblivious about their past and Jace's feelings, making him the happiest person in the universe.
When she remembered everything, and stepped into the institute once again, and got all her runes back, she was visited by her mother's soul once again telling her that the Angels had forgiven her, she still has her extra share of powers, but she needs to be careful this time and not repeat the mistakes she made in the past. From that time on she became a completely new person. Better than before, more fierce, stronger, but still stubborn, annoying, and irritating at times.
The most epic thing to happen was Alec and Clary's relationship. From hating each other to frenemies to friends to a weird brother-sister relationship, they came a long way. The bitter comments Alec used to make about her were now more of teasing and mocking in a good way. They had started understanding each other, making everyone around them shocked with their bonding.
***************************
Simon was already pacing in Alec's room when Izzy and Alec entered, making Alec sigh out of frustration. "Stop digging holes in my carpet, Lewis," Alec commented.
"Really!?"
"Boys!" Izzy shook her head. "I can't with you people!" She mumbled, then turned towards her brother. "So, what did you find Alec?"
"Everything!" He answered and explained to them the complete process of becoming immortal. When he was done both of their faces were filled with shock and astonishment.
"So, you have to drink Fray's blood and ask her to talk to Angel Ithuriel on your behalf, that's... interesting. Do you think she'll agree?" Simon asked curiously.
"That we'll see. Are you both okay with this?" Alec asked hesitantly.
Simon and Izzy exchanged a look. "Of course we are, big brother. I'm really happy for you." She hugged her brother tightly. Alec looked at Simon who nodded and smiled at him, he smiled back and mouthed thank you to him.
They broke their hug and Alec sighed with relief. "I'm glad to have your support, but, Izzy, I need advice, I'm confused."
"What is it?"
"Should I wait for everyone to arrive and talk to them tonight altogether, or I'll talk to everyone privately? I don't know how everyone's gonna react, especially Jace and Clary."
Izzy didn't know what to say to that. She looked at Simon than at her brother, trying to form words when Simon broke the silence.
"Um... I don't know what you think, Iz, but I think you should talk to everyone privately, talking to everyone at the same time would mean too many emotions in one place when you don't know how will everyone react which can become uneasy for you. But it's completely up to you." He said carefully.
"I think you're right Simon, thank you. It might take time, but I'll get a fair amount of time with everyone. And I think I'm going to make Jace and Clary wait for the last." He said with a chuckle.
"Now, Izzy, till the time mom and Luke arrive, why don't you and Clary show me what I've asked for!?" He asked with a wide smile.
Simon had a confused expression from his question, making Alec chuckle with the realization that neither of the women had told anyone about the gifts he had asked them to help him make for Magnus.
"Come on then, big brother. It's in Clary's room." She wrapped her arm around her brother's, dropped the silencing rune, and walked towards Jace and Clary's shared room. When they were near their room they heard loud arguments coming from their room making them exchange looks.
"Can we come in Fray? Or are you both going to continue with whatever you were arguing about?" Simon asked while suppressing his laugh, earning a flying pillow from Clary, which he dodged successfully, making Alec and Izzy burst with laughter, and Jace completely embarrassed.
"Are you people done?" Alec asked.
Clary cleared her throat and steadied herself. "Yeah, come in."
"Are you still working on it, or is it completed? Alec wants to see it." Izzy said the excitement was clearly visible in her voice.
"Oh, are you sure Alec? It's not completed yet."
"Completed or not, I want to see both of your's!"
"Okay, it's in my art room."
"Art room?" "What the hell is going on!?" Alec and Jace said at the same time.
Jace was carefully listening to their conversation, making a frown appear on his forehead. He looked at Simon who was mirroring his confused expressions, but no one else, making his nerves rise.
Alec sighed. "Izzy and Clary, may I know why you both kept it hidden from them?" He waved towards Simon and Jace.
"We thought it would be nice to surprise them too, we want to see their expressions when it's done," Izzy said.
Jace and Simon exchanged a look, Jace was about to say something when Alec raised his hand to shut him up. He shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't get my answer, Art room?"
"Oh, my old room, now that I share the room with Jace, I converted that to my personal Art room. Are you really sure, Alec?"
"Yes, and anyways I want it completed before I leave for Alicante."
"Are you sure, big brother? Will you be able to hide from Magnus for that long?" Izzy raised her brow at him.
"Alec, if this makes you relieved, I got permission from Angels to use the portal rune as a permanent rune for me, and anyways I and Izzy are gonna portal to the lakeside to complete all the decorations you've asked for. You can meet us there and take the gifts from us." Clary said.
Alec looked at Clary in disbelief. "You got permission? That's something. Okay then, take your time, but it should be completed by Wednesday."
"We're almost done, big brother. Don't worry!"
*************
They all walked towards Clary's Art room, Alec was way too excited to see what they've done. Clary opens the door, which was filled with the scent of fresh colors, different shapes of brushes were spread in the whole room and a bunch of them were kept in a pen stand with several watercolor bottles and charcoal pencils on a wooden table in the corner of the room. There were different shapes of canvases filled in the whole room.
Clary went forward and removed a red-colored cloth that was covering a medium-sized canvas, only to reveal 3 frame-sized paintings pinned on the canvas, the 4th one was ongoing and one was empty. Alec's jaw fell on the ground seeing them.
"You... you're painting them!?"
"You like it?" Clary asked nervously, biting her nails, and looked at Izzy.
Alec went forward and traced his fingers over the painting of their wedding, both in tuxedos, holding hands, a look of pure happiness on their faces. "Put this in the center, and frame them properly. Magnus is going to love it. And I do too. Thank you, redhead!"
Clary sighed with relief and nodded with a warm smile.
"What the he-"
"Wow, these are beautiful Fray, so that's not the only surprise you're planning for Magnus? It's so lovely!"
"Yes, there's more Simon. I told you and Izzy alre-"
"What is going on!? And why am I the only one who doesn't know anything!?" Jace yelled.
Alec sighed for the billionth time that day. "Jace, are you really not getting it, or are you seriously not remembering!?"
Every eyes were on Jace now. "Remember wha... oh shit!" He gulped when he realized the paintings were from Alec's wedding to all of their following anniversaries. And it's his brother's anniversary next week.
"Sorry, Alec. I forgot about your anniversary. So, that's why Magnus is not here, you're planning a surprise, huh?" He said teasingly knowing that his brother is bad with surprises.
Alec rolled his eyes and smacked Jace on the back of his head, earning a whiney 'Ow' from him while others burst into laughter. "So, Izzy!?"
"It's in the weapons room, come on!"
*********************
They were all in the weapons room, Izzy had vacated the room for some time, and they were the only five present there. She went towards the right side rack, opened the second last drawer and took out a black-colored box, and walked towards the center table where everyone was standing.
"Big brother, it's yet to be completed. The whole engraving is remaining, you sure!?"
"Engraving?" Others said in unison.
"Yes, Izzy! Just show me whatever is done!"
Izzy opened the box to reveal a set of 3 diamond rings, sitting on fake fingers, two on the base and one in the middle of the finger, each connected with silver chains having tiny emeralds covering the whole chain. It was a really beautiful ring. There was a bundle of diamond cuts sitting on the base of the box.
Everyone's jaws were dropped on the floor. The ring was shining brightly in the dullness of the room.
"Why extra diamonds?" Clary asked curiously.
"These are going to be fixed on the engraving. Alec, thoughts?" She asked, her voice filled with nervousness and excitement.
"Wow! I... I'm speechless. You did a great job, Izzy. Magnus is definitely going to fall in love with it."
"I already am," Clary confessed. Her eyes were shining with the lights the diamond ring was emitting.
"I didn't know my girlfriend was this talented!" Simon said. He and Jace were completely dumbfounded.
They all got out of their trance with a loud squeal Izzy made, way too excited and proud of her work. They all exchanged a look and shook their heads at her.
Before Izzy could say, her phone buzzed and her expressions went from excited to soft.
"What?" Alec asked.
"Mom and Luke are here, you're ready, Alec?"
Alec sighed. "Let's get this over with!"
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zarathelonewolf · 3 years
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Tenko took a seat on a bench close to the green area.
It was his break, and he decided where to spend it. He was tired of the chaos of the dining room, big and noisy, full of other former criminals that just wouldn't stop picking fights over the most fickle things.
He himself was convinced that, if he'd let them get to his head, all the progress made in the Program to control his urges to use Decay maliciously would be lost.
He often found it hard to concentrate and suppress his anger when someone argued with him because he was occupying their seat, since it was an incredibly usual argument that just didn't make sense. No one in that room held any authority over which seat anyone should occupy; the only people that could theoretically be considered the owners of the seats were the government and the Heroes responsible for the Villain's reintroduction in society.
He was also tired of the "you looked at me funny" argument, that had sparked a fight between him and other ex-Villains on more than two times. So what, he looked at everybody "funny"; no one was ever spared from the ever-tired and sick-of-that-crap face and stare that he wore. No one. Did those guys really consider themselves so special?
(Now that he thought of it, he did make an exception for his acquaintances, though he rarely could cover his tiredness)
He didn't really like how he felt when they made him angry, especially if he started reacting violently. He hadn't been keen on those feelings from... quite some time.
Three years before joining the Reintegration Program, he'd told himself that he'd have tried this "getting better" thing; so he used one of the three calls he had been given authorization for back at the Rehab, to see if it really helped him... If it really got him somewhere worth it.
If he could really be a hero, still.
He'd called and he'd made that choice.
So why was it still hard now, three years later?
Many of those responsible of his Reintegration had told him he'd made good progress, much more than what they thought he would have carried. And yet, there were sometimes when he just... snapped.
Whisper Punch, who was his Supervisor, had always told him that while he could have certainly got better in time and through effort, many things would have been extremely hard to heal and change.
-Being hard on yourself again?
Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. Although, to be honest, Tenko didn't really like to think of her as a devil.
Whisper Punch sat close to him on the bench, but she didn't touch him in any way: he was grateful for that; the only one that had ever followed him in the green area (or anywhere, really) had been Whiptail, and she was very touchy, always clinging at his arm (he looked like the brother she had lost, same red eyes, same disheveled hair...).
Whisper Punch, or Whispy as he'd grown used to call her, looked very tired. The scar she had on her left eye looked more prominent because of the pallor of her skin, while the one she had under her ear was covered by her (unfortunately untidy, this time... she must have stopped a dogfight in the dining room) short black hair.
Her eyes stayed locked onto the giant tree at the center of the circular space, surrounded by a small green field just as round.
It was a tree with a Quirk: gigantic, so much that it could almost be seen from outside the gargantuan walls of The Building, it had also been gifted by Nature with glowy purple leaves and flowers. No one had actually thought it would have become so big, or shiny; it had appearantly got in that state in just a year, making the locals and the ones charged with the Program very worried, although in the end everyone had grown affectionate to it.
Tenko saw it differently: he wasn't emotionally attached to it, but hypnotised, instead. He almost felt like a voice could come out of it anytime, and tell him eery but wise words. He got that hunch everytime he looked at the being. Sometimes he stared at his thick, extremely black wood and felt like it could have swallowed the light of the day, just like a black hole in space.
It weirded him out, but it also made him think and feel... something, many thoughts he couldn't describe.
So he never stared at it long. It would have made those sentiments of curiosity and dread much worse.
(Little did Tenko know, the tree truly could talk...)
-Something's troubling you. - said Whispy, still staring at the tree.
Isn't it always, he wanted to tell her, but he nodded and hummed affirmatively instead.
-What is it? Do you want to tell me? Also, break is almost over, did you eat something?
Yes, he had eaten something... Not much, but he could worry about that during dinner break.
He muffled yes, again.
-So yes, you've eaten, and yes, you want to share the issue?
-Y... yeah.
- OK then. Shoot.
-...
After a while, Tenko started explaining, trying to relax his posture and let it all go as he spoke.
-Why are they always so noisy? Don't they want to get out of the Program as soon as possible? Do they actually not care that much?
Understanding who he was talking about, and seemingly thinking about the other former Villains involved in the Reintegration, Whisper Punch answered.
-Some of them don't care, although if you're referring to the former brawlers like Rappa, I'll have to disagree. It's not that they wouldn't want out of these walls: they live to fight and spite people, and even if it really does stop them from getting back in society, they won't renounce dogfighting.
-Then why enroll in the Program at all?!
-Well... Maybe they want to see familiar faces that came here, or some of them actually have positive motivations but keep falling into bad habits.
-Just like I do, sometimes...
-What do you mean, Tenko?
-I... I sometimes feel like I'm acting as Shigaraki. When I react to the provocations, I mean, and threaten to Decay them. Am I not falling into bad habits as well?
-Maybe, but it is also true that you, and some others, try to be better than your past as Villains. The fact you're recognizing that you still make mistakes, is another testament to your progress.
-Huh...
-Anything else?
After that question, she finally turned to him. She made eye contact with her grey eyes: they had a very bright glint of blue in them, and had vertical pupils; the pupil of the left eye, cut by the scar, was white instead of black.
She wasn't giving him the calculating and fierce stare she gave Villains while she fought them in the streets, from behind her visor and mask, or the cold stare she gave to ex-Villains of the building when they jumped at each other.
Her stare had always been somewhat quiet and patient when she spoke to him.
She had made a promise to Midoriya, after all.
-I scratch myself again, at times...-he told Whisper Punch, with a small sigh.
- You do? Have you told the specialists?
He quickly nodded to make the worried lightnings in her eyes calmed down, and kept talking.
-They said to keep the gloves on, so that I don't Decay anyone; I also still need to sleep with the lighter ones, last time I tried not doing it I decayed one of the trinkets Shuichi had attached to the bunk bed and he got mad...
Shuichi and Dabi (the Todoroki elder brother preferred being called his villain name most of the time) had entered the program earlier than him, almost as soon as it had been started. They had hugged him as soon as they'd seen him being assigned to their room, alongside another Villain, Panthera.
She had many feline features, was way older than any of them, and didn't like being talked to. Even though she slept in one of the bunk beds of the same room, above Dabi's, she had never socialized much with them.
Whiptail, who had been member of her same gang AND her girlfriend, had been sent to another room, on another corridor, so Panthera was pissed.
The two had opposite opinions on him: Panthera couldn't stand him, for some unknown reason, but she had explained immediately that Whiptail had lost her brother when she was young and that she was now adoring him because he looked similar.
Also, Rappa slept in the room on the opposite wall, and he snored so loudly that the ones he shared the room with had tremendous insomnia, and Tenko's group did too. Whenever he thought about poor Atsuhiko sharing his room with that erculean brawler, he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry.
Compress had been the last former member of the LOV to be captured. After the true defeat of All For One, he'd gone gallivanting around for half a year until he had let himself get captured. He had been sent to the same Rehab structure as Tenko and the others.
Atsuhiko had seen Shuichi choose to leave the Rehab to try the Program, while Dabi had been sent in it as a precaution because The Building could fair a lot better with his continuous attempts to burn his way out to freedom. Dabi had begrudgingly decided to enroll the Program too.
Atsuhiko, as Tenko remembered clearly, had been conflicted: he wanted to follow the other two, but he also wished to stay with Tenko. In the beginning, Tenko had been so angry the former Mr Compress had been considering the Program; he knew about the new laws, and that society was really changing for the better, but receiving help from Midoriya and defeating his former Sensei hadn't really been enough to get him out of the feelings of denial, so that he could finally start to hope.
Then he'd seen, heard, watched the new generation of Heroes (hell even the older Pros) hold speeches to embed change in society, and they also inspired the government to finally change things. The new HPSC was born, the laws on Quirks became less strict, counseling got better and there was no precise ranking system for the Pro Heroes anymore.
He had finally started to hope, six years after the defeat of his former Sensei; so he had finally forgiven Atsuhiko, and let him go: the LOV... they didn't have to get dragged down by his uncertainty to move on from his time as Shigaraki, they could change for the better if they wanted to.
And in the end, he had followed them: nine years later AFO's death, but STILL... he had seen them again and walked with them on the path towards betterment.
It had been a total of eleven years, and he now found himself sitting on that bench with an underground Pro Hero, Whisper Punch, as Supervisor, working towards a positive change of character.
Eleven years since he'd last seen Toga.
-How is Toga doing?
The question asked by Tenko made Whisper Punch almost jump. It had been somewhat sudden.
She, nevertheless, answered, after a minute of silence and a light sigh.
-She is very better. The counseling she is receiving is helping her, and she will soon be able to hold 80% control of the attraction towards blood given by her Quirk. She is getting better on a psychological standpoint too. She doesn't have heavy bags under her eyes anymore.
Tenko felt good hearing that...
-She's also receiving visits from Midoriya.
... And he almost choked on his own breath at that revelation.
-What?!
-She is, honest!
He thought...
-I thought he'd be squeamish about it?!
-He does feel embarrassed at times, Toga's still a bit touchy, but not as much as before.
Woah, Midoriya really was a goody two shoes wasn't he?
But Tenko just couldn't bring himself to hate him anymore, not for that.
Not when the boy's spirit had got him out of AFO's control.
So he was really starting to feel better.
... The bell suddenly rang. It was time to return inside.
-Well-concluded Whisper Punch, standing up alongside him, - It seems break is over. Today you have no lessons, statements, or psych evaluation seats, do you? Your day is completely free, go rest in your quarters. Oh, and if you meet Whiptail on the way and she's being too insistent, you can signal me. I'll see you soon for the field trip.
At the single thought of the field trip, another bit of his sense of heaviness faded away.
Once every month, the members of the Program would take part in small trips over the mountains or panoramic sights, separated in three main groups. They were all heavily guarded, but the times of Tartarus had passed: the field trips were some of the best parts of the Program, and one of the few instances in which pretty much no one argued over anything.
Before he turned back into the building, Tenko looked at Whisper Punch and asked her about one of his neverending doubts:
-Is it really okay if I keep the coat?
It was draped over his shoulders as he asked, the coat in question: he'd used it as Shigaraki, and it was one of the few things he had insisted to bring with him from the Rehab. Many specialists of the Program had objected, but after being assigned to Whisper Punch, she'd asked them to hold their dread and let him take it and wear it.
The coat had a history, and it was a reminder.
The past never died, so Shigaraki wouldn't have died either: Tenko would change from his Shigaraki persona of course, but he would have still needed to bring it with him, to let it accompany him on his journey.
He didn't want Shigaraki to feel left behind, to not be seen as part of the journey; he was his past self and it was from his past self that he had to heal.
So he'd carry Shigaraki with him, and show him how he changed... and how possible it was to hope in a better future.
Shigaraki needed to see it as much as Tenko needed to feel it.
But reminding himself of why he still carried the coat on his shoulders wasn't enough...
So Tenko waited until Whisper Punch told him that it was a good choice, and only then he said goodbye, only then he returned to his room.
Shuichi still smiled brightly, Dabi was still being a brat and Panthera was still gloomy when he came back, and as they chatted (Panthera kept sulking the whole time), he remembered the question he had actually wanted to ask the whole time, and had forgotten to inquire to his Supervisor:
"Can I go to Toshinori's tomb, when the anniversary comes?"
For his grandma's adoptive son, his adoptive uncle, had died last year.
He reminded himself to ask her, at dinner.
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ladyalice101 · 4 years
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week 7. 
Jonsa week S L A Y E D me. seriously, thank you so much to all the amazing fic writers out there, I had such a shitty week last week, but it was amazing to come home in the afternoon and know that I had a variety of fics waiting to be read! 
considering there was so much content this week, this list is ~long~ (well, for a weekly fic rec it is anyway) 
this week I loved . . . 
something a bit different this week. I'm not reccing one fic, but an author. 
@missfaber wrote my favourite fics this week. her ao3 is here, where you can read all of her glorious fics. but here is the list of my faves from this week (which is like all of them).
anchor up to me, love
an amazing au, set in the 50s, in which sansa is a marine biologist, jon is her colleague, and they go on a deep sea expedition to find a giant squid. sounds niche, but like ... if you love “and there was only one bed” and “and they were roommates” tropes, then this fic is for you (and don’t fucking lie to me, everyone loves those tropes, so I'm expecting ya’ll to read this) 
it was a stained glass variation of the truth
this is a fake dating au, but like . . . filled with pain. jon and sansa are broken up (currently for unexplained reasons), but it’s thanksgiving and sansa doesn’t want to tell her family yet that they’re not together. so jon agrees to come and pretend. it is . . . oof. like. wow the emotional beating my heart has taken. but ALSO it’s amazing and I already know that once it’s done I'll be rereading. 
oh moon be still, she is aching
jon and sansa run an inn together. this is a wip, and I think going to be quite a few chapters, so it’s only in the setup stages atm but it’s already featuring protective jon 👀
Wolf's Teeth
a super repressed sansa undergoes a sexual awakening at a sex dungeon. need I say more? 
honourable mentions . . . 
I’ll Be Coming for Your Love, Okay? by @carbonitekisses (I'm so glad you found this list and that I could tag you!)
Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne at the reception desk but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief.
Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.
She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. Dark hair. Grey eyes. Full lips. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light.
a reincarnation/time travel au, in which Melisandre and the lord of light do some devious things and bring sansa back to life after she dies in canon-era. except it isn’t canon-sansa that’s brought back, it’s modern sansa. 
this features SO MUCH ANGST from jon. seriously that boy is just one big pile of melancholy in this fic, because he longs for sansa. but never fear, there is a happy ending, and while it certainly soothes your heart after this fic stomped on it, honestly the angst is the best part. Jon’s love for sansa really jumps out of the screen, and there were so many times that my heart ached for him. 
Swarovski Crystals by jeynestheon 
Jon has a type.
The other girls.
Short, lean, and brash, with mouths bigger than his father’s ego. Tomboys. He dates girls that make their own shorts by tearing apart their winter jeans and always wear the same battered pair chuck taylor’s. They like when he takes them hiking for the first date, and they don’t act shy when he fucks them in the car afterwards. They prefer cheap 24 hour diners to the best italian restaurants in town. Their nail polish is always chipped when they grasp his hair as he moves down between their legs. They have random stick and poke tattoos. They snort when they laugh. They have families that they will inevitably hide him from. Rich boyfriends don’t gel well with their real world. He is a fantasy. He’s a way to pass time. And that’s fine. He likes it uncomplicated. That’s his type, all in all—un fucking complicated.
And the girl sitting at the end of the bar—she isn’t Jon’s type in the slightest.
jon meets sansa in Paris, has a dirty one night stand with her, and then can’t stop thinking about her.
THIS FIC CAME AND TOOK NO PRISONERS. hOnEsTlY, I can’t rec this enough. it just fucking . . . took me by the throat and didn’t let go. jon is a rich playboy (kinda) who is utterly in over his head when it comes to sansa, and like . . . who doesn’t love jon being confused and shook by sansa, no matter how rich he is? 
A Dress of a Different Kind by @jade-masquerade
Jon isn’t so sure about a gift Sansa receives courtesy of one of their visitors from Qarth until she convinces him otherwise.
this fic is exactly what you think it is AND IT’S GLORIOUS. CUE AMAZING SMUT. 
With Joy by @alltheprettylittlewolves
By mutual, unspoken agreement, Jon spends years avoiding Sansa. Yes, she’s his soulmate, but to say it’s complicated is putting it mildly. They are finally brought together by a gift from Sam.
Written for Jonsa Week 2019, Day 2: Tropes
modern au, in which jon and sansa are soulmates but think they’re half-siblings. except they aren’t. 
speaking of fics that S L A Y E D me. now, I love a good canon-set sibling kink (holy shit that’s weird to write) as much as the next jonsa, but I don’t like reading fics in modern settings where they’re related in any way, even just cousins. idk, call me old fashioned. 
but THIS. YOU GET ALL THE ANGST BUT NONE OF THE ICK. WHO DOESN’T WANT THAT?! (no seriously, tell me, I just want a few words ...) 
Roses by @jonsastan
“Stark could be right.” One said, biting into something that had been cooking in the fire. “We never see him south of the Wall, and he never fights those fuckin’ crows like his father used to.”
Jon stood, burying his knife into the elk flesh before moving to the fireside.
“What does that southern kneeler say about me?” He asked, meeting the eye of every man and woman there. The freefolk had no monarch, no royal family, and yet Jon had become King-beyond-the-Wall after his father.
King of Stone and Ice and Snow.
- - - - - - - Jonsa Week - Day Four: Songs - {Myths} - Lies
jon sneaks into winterfell under the guise of being a bard. sansa knows he’s lying. 
honestly, I hadn’t intended to read this. Idk why I'm not a fan of wilding!jon fics, but I just don’t read them. I clicked on this bc I saw a snippet of it on Tumblr, and I don't regret it! not only that, but I obvi liked it enough to rec it! 
A Revelation by Janina 
Based on a prompt on Tumblr: cruyffsbeckenbauer asked: Could you write something angsty where Jon realizes he loves Sansa differently once Arya returns?
an oldie, but I rediscovered it this week and immediately fell in love again. most of ya’ll have probs read this, but if you haven’t, get on it. it features jon awkwardly trying to do with Arya the things he does with sansa, and realising that it is . . . NOT the same 
ok, that brings the list to a close! congrats if you got all the way through it, and I'd love to know which of them you read. 
thanks again to all the amazing jonsa fic writers out there, ya’ll kept us alive after the series ended. 
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ridiculousravenclaw · 4 years
Text
The Life of Elara Ware : Chapter 2
Elara sat on her butterfly patterned bedsheets, a heavy leather bound book in her lap. She was studying alchemy this year and wanted to get a basic understanding of it before school started. She was lost in concentration when her bubble of thought was burst by light tapping at her window. She looked up to see a shabby brown owl rapping its beak against the glass. She smiled. "Hi Errol". Elara crossed her room and opened the window. The old bird half hopped, half collapsed inside. Looking out her window Elara saw it was now starting to get dark. The sun retreated below the horizon casting shadows of deep orange and red across the sky. It was a beautiful summer's evening, a light breeze provided respite from the unforgiving heat of the day. Errol lazily nipped at her hand letting out an exasperatedly quiet hoot. "Sorry boy, here" She detached the tightly rolled parchment from his leg then opened the empty bird cage perched on top of her drawers, gesturing for him to go inside. Errol happily obliged helping himself to water. The Wares family owl Alizeh had to stay in Elaras room as her mother couldn't stand her hooting. But she was currently out hunting and Errol looked thankful for the hospitality.
Elara undid the scroll expecting to be greeted with another message from George, so she was surprised to find it wasn't his handwriting at all. 'Hello Elara. I know George has been in contact with you but I dont know exactly how much he's said or not said so I thought it best to write you myself. You are of course still welcome to come and stay tomorrow. Though I must warn you it'll be a bit of a tight squeeze. My eldest sons Bill and Charlie are home and are in the twins room meaning Fred and George are currently in with Ron and Harry. Oh yes, Harry's staying with us as well I hope you dont mind. You'll be in Ginnys room, but again, tight squeeze. We have Hermione staying in there too. I hope this is all okay with you. I've been told to expect you by flu powder at about 11. Our house is called The Burrow, I don't know if George had said. Anyway it's all still a go is what I'm trying to say and we'll take you to Kings Cross as planned. Look forward to seeing you Molly Weasley'
Elara smiled. The note really was unnecessary but she couldn't blame Mrs Weasleys lack of trust in George giving her all the correct details. She quickly scribbled a reply on the back of the note. 'Thanks again Mrs Weasley this is really kind of you. 11 o'clock. Flu powder. I'll see you then'
It took some convincing and several treats but Elara finally managed to get Errol out of Alizehs cage and attach the note to his leg. She wasn't sure if Errol was quick enough to get the note to Mrs Weasley before tomorrow morning but it was worth a try. She sent him on his way then made her way downstairs to the living room. There she found her mother silently working her way through stacks of documents she had laid out on the sofa. Her long brown hair was wound into a messy bun on top of her head and her black rimmed glasses were perched on the end of her narrow, slender nose. She was wearing grey jogging bottoms and a light blue t shirt that hung off one shoulder. She was sat cross legged, brows furrowed in concentration. She hadn't noticed Elara walk in.
"Watcha doin?" Elara said. Her mother sent several pages scattered across the wooden floor as she jumped in surprise.
"Jeez sweet pea don't sneak up on me like that!"
Elara laughed and stepped forward to help as her mum started chasing papers around the room. "sorry. I wasn't aiming to scare you"
"yeah? then why are you laughing at me?" Her mother retorted as she tried to smack Elara on the backside with a recovered sheet. She tried to put on a disgruntled face but she couldn't hide her smile as her daughter dodged her attacks.
"hey! I'm helping!" Elara replied, smiling goofily back as she hopped out of her mothers reach.
"causing mayhem more like"
Elara folded her arms defiantly, a devious grin on her lips
"fine. I wont help then"
Elara put up her hands in mock surrender and started walking towards the door.
"hey! not so fast. This is your doing so you can come tidy you cheeky bugger"
Elara complied with an exaggerated curtsy as her mother started to reorganize the pages.
"honestly. all I came down for was to tell you I'm going to the Weasleys at 11. now you've got me clearing up like your personal slave" Elara put on her best dramatic sigh which made her mother chuckle.
"think how I feel. it took me ages to put all this in order now I've got to do it again"
"hmm, well if you will insist on throwing things around the house"
"oi!" her mother retorted but once again she couldn't stifle her smile.
"11 did you say?" She added after a moment.
"yup"
"how were you going to get there?"
"flu powder" then at the look of confusion on her mothers face she continued "that's the one where you travel through the fireplace. wosh" Elara flailled of her arms to illustrate.
"oh right. the one that scares me to death you mean?"
"that's the one"
"great!" Her mother gave her a double thumbs up but her eyes showed her disapproval. Elara rolled her eyes.
"mum how many times? it's safe. I've been using flu powder since I was 7. Everyone does"
Her mother sighed, nodding her head reluctantly "I know, I know"
They picked up the last few pages in lazy quiet before Elara went to kitchen to make them both a cup of tea. When she returned she found her mother staring into the currently empty fireplace like she was waiting for something. Elara silently stood by her side handing her a floral patterned mug. She looked at her mothers face obviously deep in thought. She looked almost upset. "mum?"
It was several moments before she answered.
"you know it doesn't matter how impressive and mystical and amazing all this is. Theres still a massive part of me that wished you took after me, not your dad."
Elara couldn't deny she felt offended, and it must've shown on her face
"no no that's not what I meant. Oh hunny your magics incredible and you make me proud every day. Please know that. It's just. I dont know. I can't lie. I'd be a lot less stressed if you just grew up to be a hairdresser or something. Something ordinary. Something risk free" Elara felt confused at the direction the conversation had taken. Quick to defend the life she loved so much she answered
"Well wheres the fun in that? mum I'm perfectly safe in the wizarding world. you must know that. it may still be weird to you but its who I am and its normal for us."
Her mother looked at her for a moment. Then smiled a strange, sad sort of smile. She started to say something, then stopped herself sipping on her tea instead. Elara could see a million thoughts spiraling behind her mothers eyes. Then, finally "yeah. yeah of course you are." Then without a word she turned and left.
As she stood alone in front of the mantelpiece, Elara had the feeling like she was missing something. Then a most unwelcome thought; that there was something her mother wasn't telling her. Her mother had always been a worrier. Fretted over her wellbeing day and night. It never bothered her. In fact Elara Ware had grown so used to her mothers fussing she almost didn't notice it anymore. But now that she stopped to think, since returning from school that summer it'd seemed to get a lot more frequent. Obsessively checking in on Elara through the day. Restricting when she could leave the house, not letting her go alone. At first Elara thought this was just her fear of her baby growing up. Now that she'd sat her exams, chosen a career path, got a boyfriend. But now she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, her mother was definitely upset by it.
The next morning Elara woke up later than she wanted to. She ran downstairs and inhaled some cereal so fast she was sure she must have set a new world record. Then back upstairs for a hurried shower, which unsurprisingly resulted in shampoo in her eyes. Swearing repeatedly and dripping water onto the tiles as she went. Elara stumbled blindly across her en suit reaching for a towel. cursing herself for not putting one out first. Quickly drying herself off she threw open her wardrobe, looking at her limited selection of clothes. most of it was packed in her trunk. She glanced out the window. It was raining and with the rain had brought cooler weather. She picked out her favourite pair of jeans and a loose white shirt with lace criss-crossed across the back.
It was only after she had triple checked her trunk, glancing at the clock and seeing she still had 30 minutes to spare, that Elara finally allowed herself to relax a bit. Mentally scolding herself for waking up late and turning her morning into a mad rush. She was gazing at her reflection in the mirror and without realizing found herself fussing with her hair. She couldn't explain why. Elara had never really cared what others though of how she looked before. Yet there she sat tucking her brown hair behind her ear, the pulling it forward, then tucking it back again. Perhaps it was the nerves of seeing her boyfriend again after weeks apart. After all they hadn't been dating that long when school ended for the holidays. Or perhaps it was the stress of meeting his whole family. But then again she already knew half of them. She may never have spent much time with Ron, Percy or Ginny but they were already acquainted. Then of course theres Fred. the twins came as a pack. you rarely get one without the other and she'd been going to school with them for 5 years.
She tried to shake the nerves, focussing instead on the thing she'd always liked about herself. She gazed into her eyes which were the only ones like them she'd ever known. Her right eye was a cool blue, like a river. Her left eye a pale light green flecked with yellow. The muggle doctors said it was a genetic condition with a weird name she could never remember. it didn't matter. Elara loved her eyes. they made her different. Different was good. She looked at the clock again. 20 minutes. She picked up her trunk which she'd played at the foot of her bed and began to haul it down the stairs.
"you'll write wont you"
"nah I won't bother I'll just leave you in suspense the whole year"
"Elara Ware!"
"I'm joking! I'm joking! C'mon mum I'm in my 6th year now. I'm a big girl. I'll be fine. and I'll be back before you know it."
Her mother sighed and pulled Elara into a bone crushing hug. "I know. I just worry" Elara chuckled "yeah funnily enough I've noticed"
Her mum ignored this "I love you" she mumbled into Elaras hair. "I love you too" Just then Elara noticed the time on the clock "ooh mum I've got to go. its time" Elara wriggled out of her mums grip and stepped into the fire place where her trunk was waiting. "mum the powder"
"oh yeah right"
Her mother grabbed a small clay pot from ontop of the book case. It was peculiar in shape, unpainted and unvarnished. Elara had very vague memories of making it at muggle school when she was about 7 years old. Inside was the floo powder. Elara grabbed a handful and offered one last smile to her mum. "Bye mum"
"Bye darling"
Elara dropped the floo powder onto her feet and shouted "The Burrow" With that she started to spin. Faster in faster as her living room dissolved into a blur of colour. But just before she lost sight of her mother completely she saw it again. The same sad look in her mothers eyes. She was trying to hide it but still it was unmistakably there. Why? what was Elara not understanding? Before she could even fathom the answer the spinning stopped. She was no longer in her living room. She stepped out onto a well worn rug to a wall of welcoming red headed smiles. and there standing the closest the one she was most excited to see. beaming the brightest of all "miss me?" Said George
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Five @ Five @shmazarov
As a part of our author spotlight, we’ve asked each writer to highlight 5 fics and tell us a little about their experience writing (or reading) them.
If It Makes You Feel Better by lazarov
"Jesus Christ," Quentin moaned. "I am such a fucking asshole! All I remember is that Margo started kissing me, and I was all emotionally jumbled up and she was crying and you were there, passed out -- and this was a huge, horrible mistake.” He paused. “Uh, no offense.”
“Mhmm.” Eliot rolled his eyes and pulled out a bottle of Cuervo, pouring two sloppy fingers into a tumbler and topping it up with what could generously be called a splash of OJ. He slid it towards Quentin. “Tequila sunrise pour vous? ”
“Please no.”
“Suit yourself.” He slid the glass back towards himself and took a sip, before furrowing his brow and examining Quentin’s face. “Did you say Margo was crying?”
Twitchily, Quentin shifted under his gaze and shrugged. “It was just leftover bottled-up emotion brain-junk. No biggie.”
“Alright,” he said slowly, and Quentin suspected he wasn’t quite off the hook. But Eliot’s forehead relaxed and he changed the subject, pacing in a circle and waving his drink around, explaining: "Look, you were extremely drunk and hopped up on bootleg magic. The cheap, street stuff is like bottom-shelf tequila: nobody can be blamed for their actions after a few shots, worm and all." Eliot paused, quirking an eyebrow and leaning his elbows on the counter. His robe slid an down his shoulders, revealing a fucking bite mark under his left clavicle, and Quentin dragged his eyes away, doing his best to convince himself that the reddish-bruised imprint was way too small to have come from him. "To be honest, boo, I didn't think you had it in you."
This was my very first fic for the Magicians fandom, and my first attempt at developing an ear for Quentin and Eliot's voices. I didn't quite hit the mark, but I think it was a decent early start. It's satisfying to see how much further I've come in developing a feel for these characters.
Caught You by lazarov
"I thought that after all this turned out to be real, that I wouldn't..." Quentin sighs and thumps his head backwards against the wall, frustrated. "I shouldn't still be doing this. I shouldn't want to..." He trails off.
"Why?" Eliot says. "Because of magic?" He spits the word out like it's vinegar in his mouth, then sighs. "The fact that magic didn't fix all your problems doesn't make you ungrateful. And you're not stupid."
Quentin quirks the corner of his mouth, a doubtful sort of 'maybe.'
Eliot's hand have finally stopped shaking enough that he can let go of Quentin's arm ("You take over," he murmurs) and start to form a spell. There are probably better ones, stronger ones, but his brain feels scrambled and it's the only one he can bring forth with reasonable certainty.
His hands work methodically but cautiously as he moves through the procession: slow, carefully-drawn arcs and deliberate patterns. He nearly stumbles on the third movement, a transition from bhramara to Flamel's Interlock, but he manages to keep going, the energy building in his hands like glowing coals. Quentin watches him with tired eyes, tracking the movements with clear interest; it's not a spell he'd've learned yet, second-year Fundamentals of Wellness spellcasting stuff, and something twits in his stomach as he realizes Quentin is committing it to memory.
I love Caught You, the whole series is so important to me. Not just because I feel it was vital to explore what could've-been with Quentin's depression after Dean Fogg suggested he go off his meds, but also because I think this fic is the one where I found my voices for Eliot and Q as well as my personal style for writing hand-spellcasting.
Stories We Tell by lazarov
They stayed wrapped in each others arms for a long while: warm, slippery skin pressed together in cold water, the immediacy of their thoughts drowned out by the constant, soothing white noise of the falls, only occasionally pierced by the sound of songbirds sweetly singing to each other across the clearing.
"Will you tell me what you thought when you first saw me?" Quentin asked, his breath hot on Eliot's shoulder. He dragged his teeth against Eliot's trapezius, eliciting a shiver.
"At Brakebills?"
Eliot felt Quentin nod. He nosed against Quentin's temple: "I thought you were beautiful" - he pressed a kiss to Quentin's cool skin, over his eyebrow - "and intriguing" - another kiss, between Quentin's eyes - "and I immediately began plotting an intricate plan to make you fall head-over-hells in lust with me."
"You're supposed to tell the truth," Quentin said quietly, giving Eliot a gentle, admonishing bite.
"I know," said Eliot. "I am."
He was.
I generally have an extremely hard time writing romance but this? I was proud of this. There's something about setting a mood and teasing out exactly the moment you want from the setting you've created that is satisfying as fuck. This fic is an off-shoot of Caught You, but stands on its own as well: Quentin and Eliot trying to figure out how to be alone with each other - and take care of each other, despite their respective hang-ups about feeling loved - in Fillory.
One and the Same by lazarov
“Well, I hope that jackrabbit got eaten! Mashed up and squished right between a killer turtle’s teeth so he can’t call me names ever again.” Still draped over Quentin’s shoulder, Rupert did his turtle impression again. He poked Quentin in the back. “Turn me so I can look at dad.” Dutifully, Quentin spun so that Rupert was level with Eliot’s eyes. “What do you think? About him getting eaten?”
“Well.” Eliot tapped his chin with one finger. “First of all, I don’t think turtles have teeth. Second, I guess whether or not I wish a horrible death upon him depends on exactly what name that rabbit called you, buddy.”
“He called me a…” Rupert frowned, reconsidering, and waved Eliot closer. Eliot dutifully leaned forward so that Rupert could whisper with one hand cupped around his ear: “A two-legged idiot.”
“Well,” Eliot said gravely, rocking back on his heels. Quentin’s shoulders were bobbing with silent laughter and Rupert bounced gently along with them. “That is particularly rude. And I’m glad you chose not to repeat it in front of your dad. We both know he’s very sensitive”—
“Hey!” Quentin protested.
“But, if we’re talking eaten-by-turtles bad? I think I could find it in my heart to let that rabbit go. Mercy is a virtue, no?”
Rupert nodded, pleased with the answer, and Eliot stepped towards them. He pressed his lips against the sun-warmed top of Rupert’s head, before nosing at the soft, stubbled spot below Quentin’s ear. Gently, Quentin leaned into his touch
“Jesus fuck.” Eliot slammed one angry fist on the table and then buried his face in his hands. The sharp pain in his wrist helped to draw him out of the memory, but he was still stuck half-in and half-out: he could still smell Quentin’s hair and the damp of his skin after working on the mosaic in the afternoon heat. He could still feel a tiny hand tugging at his linen shirt. Eliot suppressed the urge to throw his chair backwards and rip himself away from it. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said again, wounded, his lips muffled against his palms.
“Hey,” Quentin said quickly, shooting one hand out to gently grab Eliot’s wrist. “El? You okay?”
He couldn’t answer – paralyzed by the memory, he opened his eyes and slowly blinked before taking stock of himself: they were in a shitty diner in midtown. In front of him, there was a scuffed white plate with a bagel on it. There was lox on the bagel. Quentin was sitting across from him. Quentin was wearing a grey sweater. He could feel Quentin’s foot touching his foot. Quentin’s warm hand was on his wrist.
This is an in-progress series about Eliot and Quentin dealing with their memories of the mosaic timeline. I tend to write what I want to read and, if I could read nothing except fic about Quentin and Eliot emotionally processing flashbacks of that timeline for the rest of my days in this fandom? I would be very lucky indeed.
spring sooner than the lark by greywash
"I love you," Eliot says, very quietly; and Quentin says, "I know."
"I'm in love with you," Eliot says; and Quentin says, "I know," and then lifts up his head.
Straightens. Quentin reaches up. Rubbing a thumb against Eliot's burning cheek: Eliot can't stop looking at him. His lovely serious sweet face.
"I think I've always been in love with you," Eliot says, barely breathing; and Quentin nods, cupping his cheek.
"I know, sweetheart," he says, really gently. "But that's not what I asked."
His big dark, sad eyes.
Eliot swallows. There is an odd, unstable sort of a wobble, buried somewhere under his sternum. "If I said no," he says; and then takes a breath, and corrects: "if. If it doesn't work out."
Quentin closes his eyes, and then touches their foreheads together.
"Then we'll figure it out," he says, very quietly, "that's not what I'm asking."
Eliot closes his eyes; and Quentin takes a breath.
"This is your home," Quentin says, very quietly. "I'm—yours, whatever happens, we're yours, I'm not going to leave, and I'm not going to—to take Teddy away from you, or something"; and Eliot—Eliot can't— "Oh, Christ, El": Quentin slides his arm around Eliot's middle.
Pulling him. Close.
Eliot curls up. Tucking his face into Quentin's throat.
"You know you gave him to me, right?" Quentin says, very quietly. "You're as much his father as I am"; and Eliot presses his eyes to Quentin's warm rough sweat-smelling skin.
Get the FUCK out of here with that intensely gorgeous prose. Talk about setting a mood. Ever since I read it, this gorgeous fic has spurred on my desire to write for the Magicians and my desire to WRITE BETTER.
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mandowh0re · 5 years
Text
Say You Won’t Let Go
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f! Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: Songfic using Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur. I fell in love with this song when I heard it and had to write a songfic using it. I also know this isn’t my best work but I’m a little rusty cut me some slack.
Happy reading!
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I met you in the dark. You lit me up.
Natasha’s eyes immediately fell on you when you walked into the room.
She had met you a few brief times before. You were Pepper’s personal assistant and would sometimes be up on the common floor as the two of you worked on Stark Industry matters.
Pepper had hired you about a year ago, and almost immediately she and Tony all but adopted you as their own.
Natasha was a goner the first time she laid eyes on you. Though she didn’t admit it to anyone, not even herself.
You were in the common room when Natasha walked in. A nightmare had woken her and she decided to take a walk around the Tower.
There you were, in the dim lights of the few lamps on, fussing over the files in front of you.
“Who are you?” Natasha asked, her body preparing for a fight, when you stood abruptly and turned towards her.
Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach did a flip.
“I’m sorry! Sorry! I’m Y/N. I’m Mrs. Potts’ assistant. I was just working on some things and I guess the time just got away from me,” You explained as you hurriedly gathered your things, “I’ll head out now. I’m sorry again for startling you.”
You rushed past her into the elevator, giving her a small smile as the door closed.
You made me feel as though I was enough.
When you started hanging around the Avengers more often, everyone immediately took a liking to you. Pepper and Tony gave you your own floor to live in. It was easier for everyone involved if you just lived in the Tower.
Natasha though, stayed on the outskirts of the group and any conversation when you were around.
The feeling you gave her terrified her to no end. She felt like this only once before, and it didn’t end well.
The Red Room and it’s teachers didn’t take kindly to their students falling in love.
But you persisted. You wouldn’t give up until she finally smiled back at you. It was infuriating to her how you could just bat your eyes or smile her way and she would just lose control over her own thoughts.
Every instinct in her told her to run.
But she couldn’t force herself to move even if she wanted to.
Nobody besides Clint or Fury had made an effort for her before. Not before you.
We danced the night away
Deciding she had had enough of walking on eggshells, Natasha crossed the room until she was standing in front of you.
The dress you had on was a satin green evening gown that dipped just below your breasts and hugged all of your curves in a way that made Natasha’s head spin.
“Dance with me?” Natasha asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question. You didn’t second guess it though, and only smiled in return, taking her hand in yours.
We drank too much.
The sound of your laugh as you threw back another shot had Natasha’s stomach in knots.
While your voice was like sleeping on silk, your laugh was the most radiant thing she’d ever heard. She then made it her personal goal to make you laugh every day.
She downed her own shot, catching a glint in your eyes she hadn’t seen before.
I held your hair back when you were throwing up.
You coughed and spit into the toilet. Your chest was heaving as you attempted to catch your breath.
You felt like shit and you knew you looked like a wreck, but for some reason Natasha was still sitting there with you, holding your hair.
Then you smiled over your shoulder, for a minute I was stone cold sober. I pulled you closer to my chest.
What the hell was wrong with her? Here Natasha was, sitting in a bathroom with a woman she barely knew, holding her hair back while said woman retched into the toilet.
But repulsed didn’t describe her feelings in the slightest.
As you sputtered and fought to catch your breath once more, you looked back at Natasha and offered a weak smile in thanks.
And it was like a train came out of nowhere and slammed into her. All of the alcohol suddenly disappeared from her system and her breath caught in her throat.
Pulling you back from the toilet, Natasha leaned against the your bathroom wall, pulling you with her.
You nestled your head in her neck, your breath tickling her skin as you attempted to keep them even.
And you asked me to stay over. I said, I already told you. I think you should get some rest.
“Stay with me tonight?” You asked, your eyes getting heavy and your quiet voice and even breathing signaling to Natasha that you were falling asleep.
“You really need to sleep. You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.” She said as she rubbed your back, not planning on going anywhere else tonight.
I knew I loved you then. But you’d never know. ‘Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go.
Natasha didn’t talk to you for a week after the Christmas Party.
She knew she was hurting you. But she knew if she let this go any further, it might be more than just your feelings that got hurt.
She convinced herself she had to distance herself from you. Force the feelings away, cast them out.
I knew I needed you, but I never showed.
You weren’t having it. You cornered Natasha one day when she was the only one in the kitchen.
“What the hell, Nat!” You yelled, “I don’t understand! I thought we were finally getting somewhere but all you’ve done since then is ignore me. What did I do? What is so wrong with me that you can’t even stomach talking to me, let alone be in the same room anymore?”
Natasha closed her eyes. This isn’t what she counted on. She thought you’d be mad at her, not questioning yourself.
“I’ll hurt you.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think?” You replied. But there was no heat behind it. There was no heat behind any of your words. The only thing she could hear in your voice was hurt and confusion.
“I’m sorry I thought we had something. I’ll leave you alone for now on.” You turned away from her with tears in your eyes. You got two steps in before she grabbed your wrist and spun you around to her.
You didn’t even have time to question what was happening, because right then she took your face in her hands and kissed you.
She let all of her feelings pour into that kiss. She finally let herself feel.
She didn’t let go until she committed the taste of your lips to memory. Until her head was spinning off her shoulders and she had you reeling with her.
I wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old.
Just say you won’t let go.
The moan that left your lips as Natasha climbed on top of you, biting her way to your lips made her thoughts cloud over even more than they already were.
She caught your wrists and pinned them above your head, kissing you and sinking the both of you into your mattress.
Just say you won’t let go.
When you came down from your climax induced high, Natasha kissed your forehead and laid next to you. She pulled you flush against her body, wrapping her arms tight around you.
“I love you.” She whispered to you as you fell asleep against her.
I’ll wake you up with some breakfast in bed. I’ll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head.
Your eyes opened as light poured into the room. Reaching over, you frowned when you found that the other half of the bed was empty.
“Good morning, beautiful.” You heard Natasha say. Pulling yourself up, you slipped on your glasses to see your wife bringing you a tray of food.
When she set it down, your stomach growled at the sight of your favorite breakfast foods. You also noticed a small card on the corner of the tray that read “Happy Birthday”.
“You didn’t have to, you know.” You smiled up at her as she leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead.
“Of course I did.”
I’ll take the kids to school. Wave them goodbye.
Natasha watched from the classroom door as Lillia hurriedly greeted her friends.
She couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been able to take her daughter to school much lately due to Avengers work, but you never once complained. You took her to pre-K every morning, sending her a picture of Lillia every time.
And I’ll thank my lucky stars for that night.
When you looked over your shoulder. For a minute, I forget that I'm older. I wanna dance with you right now.
When she got back to the car, Natasha leaned head back on the head rest and let her mind wander back to the night she fell in love with you.
She remembered your green dress, your E/C eyes boring into hers, and the way you glided across the floor in her arms.
She remembered how you drank just to keep up with her, which ended up with the two of you on your bathroom floor as you puked your guts out.
She giggled at the memory, remembering how you looked back at her. Your face was pale and tired but you smiled back at her nonetheless.
Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever. And I swear that everyday'll get better. You make me feel this way somehow.
Natasha has just gotten back from a particularly rough mission. You were there waiting for her when she walked through the door.
It was late, so she knew Lillia would be in bed.
She dropped her bag on the ground, staring at you as if to beg you to catch her. Her legs couldn’t take her any farther.
Crossing the room in three strides, you caught her in your arms as she fell to the ground crying.
Both of you stayed that way for a while, her gripping onto you as tight as possible as she calmed down, and you rubbing her back and combing her hair with your fingers.
You sang her her favorite song. The one that reminded her of you. The one that you danced to at your wedding.
I'm so in love with you. And I hope you know. Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold.
Natasha sat beside you in the medbay holding your newborn baby boy.
You were sleeping soundly for the first time in months, and she was more than happy to hold Eli while you did so.
The heart monitor’s steady beeping and your even breaths kept her calm. This pregnancy had been high risk for you, and Natasha had been worried sick the entire eight months.
You’d been rushed into an emergency c-section last night after you passed out. Luckily, Steve caught you before you hit the ground.
It was a whirlwind, Natasha caught in it as everyone rushed you down to the medbay. Her thoughts jumbled up as you lay unconscious on the surgical table.
She prayed for the first time in her life that night.
The entire team had been worried, but Natasha felt like she was going to go out of her mind with panic.
Looking down at her son, a tear slipped down her cheek. He was so tiny, born a month early and slightly underdeveloped. But Dr. Cho had reassured the two of you that both mom and baby would be fine.
We've come so far my dear. Look how we've grown. And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old.
The four of you sat on the couch as a family watching Tangled for the umpteenth time, per Lillia’s request.
Natasha looked over to see you with the baby asleep in your arms, Lillia sprawled out across both of your laps.
She couldn’t believe this was her life now. Not once did she ever imagine that she would be a wife, nevermind a mother.
But here she was, with her two kids and beautiful wife, watching Disney movies before bed.
And it all started that night of the Stark Industries Christmas Party.
Just say you won't let go
Natasha was stirred from her thoughts when a hand grabbed hers, and she looked over to see you had grabbed it while smiling at her.
Just say you won't let go.
I wanna live with you, even when we're ghosts. 'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most. I'm gonna love you till my lungs give out. I promise till death we part like in our vows
Natasha opened her eyes, blinking a few times to focus her swimming vision.
“Nat? Oh my God!”
She grunted as she was enveloped in a tight hug. She didn’t even need to see to know who was hugging her.
Slowly she brought an arm around your neck, reveling in your touch.
You pulled back, tears streaming from your face.
“When we said ‘till death do us part’ that wasn’t permission to get yourself killed!”
She chuckled, then immediately regretted it. She grabbed her chest, struggling to pull in deep breaths.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” She spoke softly, her voice thick with emotion and heavy with medication.
“Idiot,” you giggled in reply.
So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows. Finally it's just you and me till we're grey and old.
Just say you won't let go
Just say you won't let go
Just say you won't let go
Oh, just say you won't let go
***
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Rutger Hauer has passed, and is on his way through the stars, toward the shoulder of Orion and the Tannhauser Gate.
He gave himself to the world of film and created characters which will continue to inspire the people lucky enough to share in the dreams he left behind.
I wrote this a couple years ago - and maybe it’s time to look at it again.
Thank you Mr Hauer for leaving this place a little brighter for your having been here.
Good journey, peace at last.....
————————————————————————————————————-
January 8, 2016
It's Roy Batty's birthday.
Ridley Scott's 1982 movie - Blade Runner - cast Rutgers Hauer as the renegade Replicant in search of his maker.
The film was a brilliant adaptation of Philip K Dick's "Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?"
Roy and a small group of Nexus-6 Replicants, have stolen an off-world transport, killed the crew, and returned to earth - in an attempt to coerce their designer to extend their programmed four-year lifespan. January 8, 2016 was the day of Roy's inception, and also the day his genetic coding has scheduled him for death.
He is being hunted by Harrison Ford, as hired-gun Deckard - a Blade Runner - paid to track and kill escaped Replicants.
----------------------------------------------
In 1982 - the idea of the year 2016 was a mind-numbing distance away.
"The Future" was a place where anything was possible, and our wildest dreams would come true.
It seems like yesterday.
And yet, when I started thinking about the world I inhabited in '82, and where I've washed up on the shores of 2016 - it's been quite an extended sea voyage.
I was married to somebody else.
We walked into town to the little movie theater on Central Avenue, and as we moved to our seats, were told by the usher ( yeah, that's right - there were still ushers ) -"You shouldn't even bother with this movie. It stinks. Four people at the last show actually asked for their money back."
We loved it.
Minds were blown - and we went back two more times, bringing friends.
That Christmas Eve - I had a small stroke. I was 26.
At the time, I was more worried about how the news would affect my husband - and did not fully appreciate my own predicament. He overheard the doctor on the phone making arrangements for what was then, the only echocardiogram machine in the New York area.
"Is that about you?" He asked. I nodded.
My husband passed out cold on the waiting room floor.
I survived. Had test after test after test, and slowly got my left side back under my own control.
Time passed.
We tried for the baby - and a series of horrors led to the loss of pregnancy, and culminated with a 3:00 AM visit to the emergency room.
The husband was so upset - he left me by the hospital entrance, and drove home.
When he inevitably decided that he needed "space" and wanted to "take a break" -(clearly, his office-affair had nothing to do with this decision ) - I used the time to take a good long look at the marriage.
When he came back three months later - I was not the girl he had walked out on.
The world had changed, and so had the locks.
-------------------------------------------------
I moved into the West Village with a girlfriend. It was awkward having a roommate after having a husband, home, and mortgage - but I made it work.
An unusual boyfriend followed, and several years of actors, artists, and cabaret performers filled my days and nights.
It was Manhattan in the '80's. There were nights out spent dancing at the clubs til dawn.
The Met was open late on Friday nights, and my group of fellow oddballs wandered the museum halls every week for over a year.
Art and illustration was my livelihood. I knew everyone in the Village ( at least by sight) and was completely comfortable in my element.
But my friends got sick.
And my friends started dying.
AIDS ravaged the world.
The Village was ground zero, and everyone was terrified. We didn't know where it was coming from, didn't know how to cope with the skeletal friend, the friend covered with sarcoma blotches - was it the end of the world?
In many ways - yes. It was.
The best, brightest, most talented people on earth were dying out - and all I could do was hold hands at the bedside, and attend memorial services.
There was a three month period when I went to a service EVERY SINGLE WEEK.
My dearest friend, Bruce - I never even knew when he was well. We were fellow illustrators, and spent hours a day with phone cocked between shoulder and ear - talking while we drew in our separate studios. He was in Chelsea, I was on the corner of Perry and West Fourth.
We brought children's books to life, and loved the work.
As AIDS ravaged his body, he needed to take long naps in the afternoons. His fever would spike uncontrollably - he called it "Shake and Bakes."
He fussed over the ugly sarcoma lesions which appeared on his arms and hands - he found a theatrical makeup which he swore would cover them up so that nobody would know.
Everybody pretended that it worked.
"Well, my sweet darling angel - I took a shower this morning, and guess what? I watched all my hair go down the drain."
Some medication he was taking, combined with what may have been a chemotherapy cocktail - took every hair on his head.
He entered the shower - with.
Exited - without.
He had been told this might be a possibility, and had already purchased a wig from a professional Broadway wig-maker.
It was awful looking, but we continued to pretend.
He slipped farther away, and was hospitalized on a closed floor reserved for AIDS patients.
I visited every single day.
I brought tiny gifts, saved up stories to make him laugh - and built my day around spending time with him.
His family wouldn't come and see him. Friends did their best, but simply couldn't be with him when push had finally come down to shove.
I remember shouting at his brother on the pay phone in the hospital hallway "I can't make this better. I'm not allowed to make decisions for his care, because I'm not a family member. He is dying, and you need to be here."
He wasn't.
I held Bru's hand, and wiped his forehead. I asked the nurse to turn up his oxygen because he was struggling and begging for air. "It's as high as it will go." she said - and even though it was time for all visitors to leave, she said I could stay.
The day before, he had spent time with a priest who had given him what I now believe was last rites. He seemed comforted, and we said what needed to be said.
"You know Bru....I will ALWAYS love you."
He smiled and said. "I know. And I will always love you too."
He took his last breath a little before midnight.
I closed his eyes.
Twenty seven years have passed since that night.
-----------------------------------------------
The unusual boyfriend fell victim to his own silliness. He convinced himself that another woman was sending him messages about being attracted to him - and he needed "some space" to explore the magic.
He did.
She didn't
And I was magically single again.
As 1990 dawned - the Internet had not been invented.
The cell phone - wasn't.
Video rental stores were visited daily, and made money hand-over-fist.
Blonde, Madonna, and all that wonderful 80's music that my kids now think is divine - were the sounds of the decade.
And I didn't quite trust CD's.....
Times Square was just beginning to shed the peep shows and adult movie houses.
It was gritty, and how I loved it.
July 4th of 1990 I found myself eating in the diner downstairs from my apartment on the corner of 14th St and Seventh Avenue.
It was empty.
I ate my bluefish dinner and went back upstairs to the drawing board.
One single red rocket cleared the rooftops and the stars rained down.
I was bored.
Decided to place a personal ad in The Village Voice. "Looking for an interesting conversation over a cup of coffee....." and some other minor nonsense.
Over 350 people responded in the three days I checked the answering machine.
"I've never answered a personal ad," said the voice on the phone."I live with a grey cat. And I'm reading DUNE. Maybe you could call me, and we'll get a cup of coffee?"
On our third date, he never went back home.
"You know what? It's getting kind of silly to keep paying for an apartment to keep my cat in...."
"So what are you saying?" I asked. "Are you asking to officIally move in here?"
" Nope. Let's get married. It'll be fun. I'm not exactly getting younger - either are you. Why not?"
"It'll either work - or it won't. What's the reason that we shouldn't at least TRY?"
He talked me into it.
Brian and I were married in the Cathedral of St John the Divine, three months after our first date. Twenty five years ago, last October.
Babies happened. Three in a row. "Irish triplets" as my obstetrician called them.
Quinn.
Morgan.
Maddie.
They were (and are ) the three finest people I have ever known - and are the center of my soul.
Brian and I survived critical fulcrum points where the smallest waver would have plunged all of us into hell.
We stared death in the face - death blinked, and looked away,
more than once.
We walked away from alcoholism.
Left cigarettes behind,
Did battle with depression,
and kept walking....
We've skated on the thinnest of financial ice for YEARS.
We've worked and worked and worked some more - and it was never going to be enough to keep the ship afloat.
The kids, as we've laughed over the years have "Never missed a meal."
Nothing was easy, but our youngest will be the third to graduate from college in the Spring. Yes, there are loans to be paid - and we'll do everything we can to help them gain traction in their lives.
About a year and a half ago we took a good hard look at where the road was leading us. Our ability to maintain the income necessary to support our lives in Westchester county, in a big house with a big mortgage - huge utility bills, and a dwindling job market - we came up with a plan.
The bank was unhappy with our syncopated mortgage payment schedule - and really wanted their house back. Things were sliding downhill, and we simply couldn't stop it.
"Let's take the money from my last free-lance job, and buy a house in Ireland."
Found one.
And did.
Sold the house in Westchester.
Packed up everything we could.
Got on the plane.
And here we are.
January 8th, 2016, and it's 1982 all over again.
The Replicant is out of time.
He sits high on the rooftops above the city, rain is pouring from the black skies - and Roy Batty,- in his last moment of life - knows what it is to be fully human.
"I've seen things, you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain."
We all go through the motions. We get out of bed every day, and do our best to keep our lives and our families moving forward.
We work.
And plan.
And strive for happiness.
I'm no Roy - but I too, have seen things that will pass away with me when I go.
I, too, have learned what it is to be fully, and completely - human.
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The headless horseman in Detroit
For the halloween special from @sdavid09 's tale tellers fright night 2018.
Warnings: mentions of blood and death, mention of violence, drugs
Connor stands in front of a large apartment complex. It was a dirty grey beton building with accurate divided windows. Every apartment was exactly designed like the other. He had the blue prints downloaded and knew exactly in which apartment he has to go.
Connors destination was the 13th apartment on the 26th floor. There lived the young Detective Natalie Williams from the Detroit Police Department.
It was 2 in the morning and Natalie was still asleep so Connor had the ungrateful task to wake her up. He knocked at her door and waited for Nat to answer.
Natalie lies in her warm soft bed and heard a loud sound from her door. Grumbling and muttering she turns and tossed, trying to ignore the disturbing noise. Sighing Nat gets out of her bed and pads sleepily towards the door. As she answered the door the red haired woman sees Connor standing there blushing in a light blue.
Her sleep clothes were made of a long shirt that reaches nearly to the middle of her thighs and the collar was so wide it slids down her right shoulder to her elbow.
Connor feels his cooling system heating and his Thirium pump to speed up. He has never seen his female Colleague like this. In fact in this moment he thinks that she really looked sexy and this thought made him nervous. They just started a friendship a few days ago when they found the little dog on the mall. The whole night Natalie had helped him to take care of the white puppy and Connor and they had talked until he convinced her to sleep on Hanks Couch.
"Connor, whats going on", she asked worriedly. Maybe it was something with Hank or a new case. Behind her appeared her android friend Samantha and waved shortly.
"We have a new case and it appears to be a quite difficult one", the android detective said and tried to not let his sight wander down her body.
Growling Natalie turned and get back in the apartment. Seeing that she let the door wide open Connor understand it as a gesture to come in. He gets in and closed the door behind him. As curiosity get the best of him he looked around the small domicile. The walls were white, but everywhere pictures are hanging on the wall. Different photographies of landscapes, beaches and riffs or animals in various sizes and forms. The furniture was a mixture of new and old cupboards the only thing they have in common is that they are beech-wooden. Connor doen't want to be rude, so he stayed in the little floor and waited for Natalies return.
"So, is it a deviant", asked Sam and led him in the kitchen. The room was sparely decorated and as he knows from the blue prints fully furnished in every apartment. They take a seat at the chairs who were standing around a small table.
"I don't know. Hank and I were called about half an hour ago that we should pick Natalie up and come to the crime scene", Connor explained.
"Then lets go", Natalie calls from the door. Connor and she bid Samantha farewell for the night and make their way to Hanks car.
As Natalie climbs into his car she watches Hanks tired face with more eyebags than usual.
"Hank, whats up with you?"
"Little Cole has still problems to sleep. When he doesn't run around the house he lies in Connors bed whimpering and then Sumo barks and ran to him", Hank explained. This led to a lot sleepless nights in the past few days.
"I'm really sorry, Hank. I thought this was gonna be easier", Connor apologized.
"It's not your fault, kid. The poor guy was threaten badly and this will take some time to get well. And Sumo seems to help him a lot. Maybe it is good, that we are away for now. He could be less nervous without us constantly around him. That means less peeing on the floor, too", Hank murmured into his beard. Giggling Natalie leans back in the seat and watches out the car window. Hank shot her a glare through the driving-mirror which she decide to ignore with a huge grin on her face.
The crime scene was an abandoned warehouse in the east district of Detroit.
"Detective Anderson, this way please", said one of the police officers and led the way to a little rusty door.
Inside the warehouse was a real nightmare. Three bodies laid in there but no clue where the heads were. On the wall was a message saying: 'The Hessian is awoken.'
The scripture was written in blue blood, though the bodies definitively are humans.
"Who the heck is 'the Hessian'", asks Hank.
"'The Hessian is awoken' is a quotation from the gothic horror novel 'Sleepy Hollow' written by Washington Irving. The story is based on the tale of the headless horseman, who supposedly was an Hessian soldier in the Civil War who lost his head during a battle. In the novel his ghost returns to search for his head. Thereby he beheaded everyone who stands in his way", explained Connor in every detail.
"He is better than Wikipedia, don't you think Hank", Natalie giggled.
"As long as he isn't licking something", was the only answer she received.
"I don't think that I need to 'lick something', Detective", the android stated nearly offended.
"But I have to admit that we don't have much evidence. The bodies are all male, around thirty and Red Ice dealer. Their names are Michael McNeil, Frank White and George Irving. When they were beheaded they were probably alive and running from their murder."
Hank, Natalie and Connor went silent and looked around the warehouse. No signs of any traces from horses or other evidences on how the victims were murdered.
"The font implies that the message was written by a human", Connor proceeded listening the evidences.
"That means we are searching for a human that kills three people and what the hell did he do with the heads?"
Hank was really confused. For the next week they found five more headless bodies. Every 'victim' was a well known Red Ice dealer and the newspaper were full of theories about the headless horseman and his vendetta.
But one night the murder made a mistake. He ripped one of his gloves and leaves a fingerprint in the blood font.
"The fingerprint led us to a deliverer working for Cyberlife. That explains where he get that huge amount of Thirium. His name is Victor Gunn, he is 28 and a month before the first murders his wife died was shot during a failed Red Ice deal", Natalie reads from the file.
"We got his address but I doubt that we will find him there. Short after the day we found the second crime scene he was fired due to the fact that he was absent for a few weeks and Thirium disappeared from his deliveries", Hank added to the report.
"Where do we find Victor? If he is not at home or at work he could be everywhere", Natalie sighs. She slumps on Hanks desk and base her head in her hands.
"Unless he makes another mistake, it will be hard to find him."
Connor lays a hand on her shoulder and smiles.
"When nothing happens today we should go home. We had way too much overtime the last days. Hey, how about you come to us. Sumo and Cole would be happy to see you again. And honestly, girl, you need to relax", Hank stated. Smiling Natalie agreed to come over. It was quite some time since she last seen Sumo and Cole and it would be fun to visit the two dogs again.
But unfortunately it shouldn't be tonight.
"Detective Anderson, a suspect was seen who looks like your wanted person", an android officer called for Hank and the others. Immediately the three of them jumped from their seats and rushed the female android. Connor connected and get the informations they needed. As quickly as they can the three headed to the old warehouse where tonight should be a big deal for Red Ice. Two big dealer and their henchmen are supposed to appear. It has to do with a huge amount of money and drugs.
The team and a swat union surrounded the warehouse and Hank entered together with Connor the building while Natalie waits outside to coordinate the clutch of the swat.
Meanwhile Hank tried to calm down Gunn so that they don't need to hurt him.
"Victor hear me out. I know how you feel about these scum. They risk lifes to make money and other people have to suffer because of them. We keep loosing family because of them, but do you think Margot wants for you to kill and end up being not better as they are?"
As Hanks words started to get through Victor he starts shaking and drops the gun. Connor give the signal for Natalie and the swat for the clutch. Quickly the team rushes in and detained the dealers. Victor gave up and goes along freely. He would be arrested for a very long time though he was the actual victim.
The story of the little pup can be read in my prompt 'sleepsong - Bastille' for @tea-with-loki's 2k follower challenge #wolfys2k.
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Riverdale request!!: something with Jughead having a bad Bad cold and sneezes all over betty while she takes care of him and she ends up getting Sick. Thank you!! Idk if you're taking requests so I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you!!
(Yo anon! Since my Jughead is aro/ace, or maybe gray aro, this is platonic Bughead!! :)) Hope that’s cool with you!! Anyway, thanks so much for the prompt, it was fun writing it! I absolutely love Jughead and Betty interactions and I think they work so well together!! Also anon ur not disturbing me, silly! I loved it!! I’m always up for your requests!)
Jughead sneezed harshly into his t-shirt for what was probably the hundredth time that morning. The process of sneezing over and over again was exhausting and he felt so drained from the repeated process.
Archie winced  as he watched the boy weakly muster out his sneezes, despite how weak he clearly was his sneezes still came out with brute force, which clearly didn’t help his weakened state.
Jughead had been sick for about two days at this stage. He had given off the odd extra sneeze and cough here in there to begin with, then his voice became a little stuffy and Jughead initially blamed it on allergies, then went to bed. The next day he had a full blown cold, and had gone to school. Archie found him standing outside his history classroom when he had gone to the bathroom sneezing his lungs out, and then learned that he was kicked out of the test because of how much he was disrupting the class.
“I don’t want to leave him alone like this, dad,” Archie expressed to Fred who was standing a few feet away from him.
“Neither do I, Archie. Maybe we can postpone–”
Jughead shook his head violently, “No! Don’t! I know how much seeing your mom means to you, Arch–trust me, I would know–and it’s honestly just a bad cold. Nothing that can kill me.”
Archie did not look convinced whatsoever, “Still! You look dreadful, Jug.”
Jughead shot him a thumbs up, “Thanks dude.”
Fred raised an eyebrow, “Jughead, you know what he means. But still, it doesn’t feel right to be leaving you here..”
Jughead groaned loudly, “Guys, honestly, I’m fine.”
“What if you died?!”
Jughead grinned, “Then I’d be the first person to die of a cold! Wouldn’t that record look great on the mantle??”
Archie looked genuinely terrified.
Jughead rolled his eyes, “Oh my god, Archie. It’s a joke. I’ll be fine–if anything goes wrong, I’ll call the Coopers who are literally next door.”
Archie nodded, while obviously still anxious, “Okay, fine.”
Fred nodded as well and whipped his car keys out, “Okay, so we’ve left you more than enough money for the weekend, money for food, medicine and some snacks..but there is enough soup and other easy to heat up food, and enough medicine and Archie loaded you up on snacks. And I think you’re okay on refills.  Uh, yeah, ring us if there’s anything wrong.”
Jughead shrugged and smiled, “Honestly, I’ll be fi–” he was cut off by an abrupt, loud sneeze he barely managed to turn to the side, and grinned sheepishly, “fine. I’ll be fine. Have a good weekend, you guys.”
Archie gave him a smile, but the congestion laced in his hoarse, baritone voice as opposed to his usual tenor got him super worried so he ran to him and gave him a huge hug, for good measure.
Jughead pretended to vomit, “Eugh, I’m going to get the Andrews disease.”
“Please don’t die, Jug,” Archie laughed and gave his hair a ruffle and followed his dad to the doorway.
“Yeah kid, look after yourself, okay?” Fred smiled as he left the house and unlocked the car.
Once they took off and were out of his sight, Jughead leaned back and slumped against the cough, pulling the fleece blanket tighter around his shivering frame. As he rummaged around, he accidentally hit the remote and switched the channel to a Transformers film, and instantly, his nose began to twitch and an extremely intense tickle began to brew in his nose.
Now that he was alone, he really didn’t care about how stupid his pre-sneeze expression was, and how ridiculous his twitchy nose looked, and how loud he was hitching. He also didn’t care about how explosive and loud his release was, the fit lasting for about 5 sneezes. He didn’t bother covering either. He made a face at the mist he saw forming before him and shrugged.
He glared at the shitty movie before him, “I’m fucking allergic to your bullshit, Michael Bay.”
Jughead hadn’t even realised he had been dozing off–he didn’t realise he could, the Big Lebowski was on–until the doorbell rung out. He jolted awake and sniffled, wondering who it could have been. He figured it was some advertiser dude or someone trying to get him to convert to some religion, and he really wasn’t up to that. Hopefully he would scare them away with how awful he looked.
Jughead padded over to the front door and opened, only to be surprised to see the bright and bubbly Betty Cooper, holding a pink bag that resembled a Children’s Nursing Kit.
“..Betty?” Jughead stammered, not even sure if what he was seeing was real or if this was some weird fever illusion.
“Jughead! You look worse than I thought,” She frowned as she took in his sickly appearance.
Jughead sniffled, wiping his nose quickly on the back of his hand, “Hm, didn’t think I could possibly downgrade even more, thought I was already at rock bottom in terms of the look department.”
Betty looked shocked, “Juggie! Don’t say that about yourself–”
Jughead laughed at her softly, “Betty–I don’t care about that sorta thing, it’s cool. Just a joke.”
“Anyway, how did you know I was–Archie,” Jughead growled, groaning loudly at the very thought of Ginger Judas himself.
“Well I’m glad he told me, Juggie! I wouldn’t want you all sick by yourself,” Betty exclaimed, taking in his features and pressing the back of her hand against his cheek, frowning.
Jughead rubbed at his nose, his eyes growing hazy as he turned away from Betty and sneezed harshly twice into the crook of his arm and turned back to see her worried eyes. “M'fine,” He said stuffily, not sounding very convincing.
Jughead stepped back to let her in and flopped back at the couch, resting his head on one of the pillows. Betty walked into the house and put her bag down.
“Archie called me like 10 minutes after I saw him and Mr Andrews leave the house panicking because he was so worried about you. He thinks you’re going to drown yourself in your own snot,” Betty explained, taking off her jacket.
Jughead raised his eyebrow at his friend’s antics, “..Well, I’m flattered.”
Betty shrugged as she pulled a container of homemade soup out of her bag, “He’s only worried about you, Jug. So am I, actually. But hey listen, I’m here to make it all better!”
Jughead gave her a small smile, “Your everlasting sunshine and youthful glow is seriously withering my dark and gloomy aesthetic, Betty but I–is that soup?! Did you make me soup?! Jesus, you didn’t have to!”
Betty tutted, “Don’t raise your voice! That’s not good for your throat. But I know you love my soup when you have a cold, with my secret formula and things! That’s why it took me a little bit to get here.”
Jughead chuckled lowly, “What’s the secret ingredient? Mr Krabs’ secret formula?”
Betty simply rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to retrieve a spoon, “I’ve got to text Archie that I’m here, he’s probably making Mr Andrews’ brain burst at this stage!”
Jughead could picture that perfectly–Archie spluttering and spitting out nonsense and gibberish at his dad, making Fred seriously reconsider his choices. Hopefully Betty would text him soon, for Fred’s own sanity, of course.
Betty came back with a spoon and gave Jughead the bowl with the spoon, throwing another blanket around him as she noticed his shivering, and how the bowl seemed to rattle when she placed them in his shaking hands.
“Are you warm enough?” She asked gently, for Jughead to nod in response.
Jughead dipped the spoon into the soup and placed it into his mouth, despite his congestion and impaired taste sense, he could taste the signature creamy, flavourful goodness of Betty’s soup.
He smiled at her, “Betts, you never cease to amaze me.”
Betty shrugged, opening up a packet of chips she had taken from the kitchen ,“It might just be because all you eat is fast food junk so this is a nice change for you.”
Jughead rolled his eyes and continued to eat his soup, and changed the channel as Ratatouille came on.
Betty raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know that film noir, art house film loving Jughead Jones would be into Pixar.”
Jughead huffed, “They’re particularly good on sick days! I don’t want to spend my sick day trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind some Nicolas Winding Refn film.”
Jughead’s breath began to hitch and he turned his head to the side, away from Betty and raised an arm to his face. He pitched forward twice and caught two explosive, wet sneezes into his arm.
Betty jumped, “Jesus! That was..quite a sneeze.”
Jughead sniffled and laughed softly, “They’re the absolute worst and I hate them. I can’t for the life of me control them–it’s awful when you’re someone like me who doesn’t want attention. I try to stifle sometimes–but then I just can’t stop!”
Betty smiled fondly at him and reached over to ruffle his hair, only noticing that he was without the signature grey beanie. It was still a little odd to see him without it.
“They’re fine, Jughead. No one really pays attention half the time,” She reassured.
Jughead’s eyes grew distant once again and his breath hitched once again, inhaling sharply, but found that the sneeze just wouldn’t come out and he was left continuously gasping for breath and nose twitching like a rabbits. He let out a tiny groan before looking up at a window, and once the light hit his eyes the next two sneezes came out.
Betty looked oddly impressed, “You’re one of those sun people!”
Jughead laughed a little at her excitement and rolled his eyes, “Yes, I’m an alien from the Sun. I come in peace–I only wish to learn about the human’s odd, odd ways.”
Betty hissed playfully and whacked his arm, “Ugh! You know what I mean!”
Jughead laughed at her, “Yeah yeah, one of those sun people. My body hates me, we’ve all established.”
Betty munched on her chips and watched as Remy the rat began to roam Paris, “Uh, I know this is a little awkward but..are you okay?”
Jughead grinned, “My entire body is consumed by what appears to be a plague but otherwise, yes, I appear to be functioning and not on the brink of death.”
Betty sighed, “No, Jug. You know what I mean.”
Jughead laughed, “Oh, you mean that my best friend has gone off to see his mother who loves him with his father who is stable enough with said mother that they can be in the same room as each other?? And I can’t have that? Y'know because my mom hates me and my dad loves me but is still deadbeat and also in jail?”
Betty bit her lip, knowing that Jughead used humour as a coping mechanism and that it was probably the fever talking. Jughead was also known for his darker humour, but one thing she couldn’t ever know despite knowing him since childhood was wether things were affecting him or not.
“..Jughead, you know that none of these things are your fault?”
“Yeah, I know that. I genuinely do Betty.”
She still looked concerned.
Jughead sighed, “Betty, I’m doing better than I’ve been in a while. Yeah it sucks and sometimes it makes me really anxious and sad but today..everything’s fine. Well, I have an awful fucking cold but aside from that, I’m fine.”
“like meds help–like I was so against it to begin with because Fred is paying for it and I hate the fact he’s spending on me, but it helps, Betts,” Jughead said, a lot more genuine and slow.
Betty smiled at him, relieved and more relaxed, “I’m glad Jug. We’ve all been so worried about you these past few weeks..”
Jughead chuckled, “You and Archie, you mean?”
Betty shook her head, “No! Veronica and Kev too. Honestly Jug, your self esteem is almost as low as..as..Veronica’s height.”
Jughead burst into laughter, “Fuck! I wish I had recorded that! I’d kill to see her face if she knew you called her that.”
Betty flushed red, “You wouldn’t tell her, would you?!”
Jughead raised an eyebrow teasingly, “To blackmail you, maybe.”
Betty groaned loudly and smacked Jughead on the head playfully, ending up grabbing at a curl and twiddling it around her finger. She seemed a little impressed.
“I didn’t expect your hair to be so soft?” Betty commented.
“Makes up for my cold hard, stoic exterior,” Jughead replied.
Betty scoffed and chuckled lightly, “You are a massive softie at heart, Jughead Jones. Who went to Kevin’s little cousin’s birthday party and bought her a present because she had a crush on you?”
Jughead went slightly red, not wanting to admit how soft he genuinely was, “It was just..uh..Kevin pressured me.”
Betty laughed, knowing full well that was not the story. The gang had all gone to Kevin’s house, who was surprised by his little cousin and aunt being at his house. His little cousin clearly took a liking to Jughead and drew him a picture. Jughead’s heart burst but when confronted by his friends, he pretended he didn’t care.
Betty left it for now, and took the bowl from Jughead who had finished his soup and took it to the dishwasher. Once that was done with, they spent the remainder of the movie in a comfortable silence, with a few interruptions from Jughead’s coughing and sneezing, as well as a few funny comments here and there.
As the two moved on to Inside Out, Betty pulled out her bag to retrieve a bag of chamomile tea.
Jughead raised an eyebrow, “Since when have you become Nurse Joy?”
Betty laughed, “I figured we should do the thing when we were kids and we played sick and I always took care of you. In fairness, you were sickly then, so chances were you probably were actually sick.”
She left the room to make the tea in the kitchen and by the time Riley had acquired all of her emotions, she returned with the tea and the medicine Fred had left.
“Don’t dry swallow these, it’s why I made you the tea,” Betty warned, and passed him the two objects. Jughead obliged.
Jughead reached for the toilet roll to blow his nose when Betty slapped his hand.
“No way are you using that! That’s awful for your nose, here, I brought you the nice lotion ones,” Betty explained as she pulled out her pink bag and passed them over to Jughead.
Jughead raised an eyebrow, “Is that Mary Poppins’ bag? What else do you have in there?”
He then proceeded to pluck one out and blow his nose, wincing at the sound and chucked the tissue into the bin. He then took the tea back and continued to sip at it.
“Speaking of bad tissues, look at your nose, Jughead. It’s literally bright red and chapped! Here, I’ve got something that can help..” She pulled out some ointment out of magic bag.
Jughead looked impressed and also shocked, and hadn’t had time to react until Betty was standing before him and applying ointment onto his already tender, sensitive nostrils.
His nose reacted quickly, his nostrils beginning to twitch as a result of the rubbing. His nose tickled so bad but he couldn’t quite cover his nose because he was holding onto the rather large tea mug and couldn’t put it down anywhere without spilling it everywhere.
“B-Betty..please..I’m gonna..hhh..!! I really need to..hehh!!snn..” He hitched breathlessly, trying to scrunch up his nose and withhold his sneeze. His disobedient nostrils kept twitching with desperation, desperate to sneeze.
Betty laughed softly, “Jug! You look like a little bunny..”
“B..be..betty..p..p-please!! hhh..” Jughead pleaded but alas was too late, his body fully committing onto the sneeze, inhaling sharply, eyes shutting as he let out a loud, harsh sneeze that caused the tea to rattle and spill a little bit on his lap. The worst thing is that he knew that that sneeze certainly was not dry in any sense of the word.
“Fuck–Betty im so–” This time Betty did move to the side so he could aim his sneezes elsewhere and sneezed three more times, so harsh and powerful they completely drained him of energy. He was exhausted when he finished.
“Bless you!” Betty exclaimed, competely unfazed by the entire debacle.
“Betty, I’m so so sorry, that was so gross and horrible! I’m so sorry, you’re gonna get sick now, I’m really–”
“Oh my god Jug, stop. It’s fine, honestly. Honestly it was my fault, I didn’t move out of the way, but your pre-sneeze face is just so cute??”
Jughead gagged, “Eugh, how can any aspect of sneezing be cute? But now you’re going to get sick and–”
Betty shrugged, “I was destined to get sick the moment I stepped into this house. It’s fine, Jughead, really. I want to help you.”
Jughead sighed, “I just don’t like it when people are nice to me at their own expense, it makes me feel awful.”
Betty tutted, “Hey, c'mon Jug. You’d do this for me. You’re always such a giver, sometimes you have to be a taker! And stop with this I don’t deserve kindness bullshit, you deserve it just as much as any of us. Now shut your emo ass and let’s watch Inside Out, okay?”
Needless to say, Jughead was right. Betty had done Jughead a good at her own expense, and about three days later Betty had come down with what he had. Granted, her better immune system made the illness not quite as bad as he had it, but the illness was dreadful, so of course it was still miserable.
Jughead made his way up the stairs, still at complete disbelief on how he was even allowed onto the Cooper household. As a child he had never been able to step in, on very few occasions he was, but rarely. Alice didn’t want FP Jones’ son in her house. However, Hal was the only one home, so perhaps that would explain it.
He knocked gently before walking in to see Betty curled up in bed, blankets strewn about as she watched a rom com on her laptop. The room smelled of tea. She was pale and sick looking, but Jughead didn’t really care. He really wasn’t one for appearances anyway.
“Hey, I’m so sorry about this, this cold sucked,” Jughead expressed guiltily.
Betty looked up and when she saw it was him she smiled, “Really, Jughead. It’s not a problem. Actually..as awful and dreadful as this is..My Mom wanted to bring me to some lecture about Good Behaviour and Respect today, and I would actually die if I had to go. Now I have an excuse.”
Jughead scrunched up his nose, “..Yeah..I’m sure this cold isn’t as miserable as that.”
Betty laughed hoarsely and gestured towards her bed, “Here, sit over here. We can continue our Pixar Marathon. You were right, Pixar is great for sick days.”
Jughead grinned, “What are we watching?”
“All the Toy Story’s. Wait, what’s that,” She asked, pointing at Jughead’s hands.
Jughead turned a little red, “..Uh..it’s soup. I figured that it was only right since you got me soup. Um, it’s not that special or as nice as your soup. I-it’s Campbell’s, actually, but uh..”
“Its soup,” Betty chuckled and took the bowl from him and dug in. She coughed softly, and moved over a little to give Jughead some space.
“It’s not bad,” Betty commented.
Jughead shrugged, “You’re just saying that so I don’t tell Veronica you said she was short.”
Betty laughed, “But she is. She’s like a little cupcake, adorable, but tiny! She can try all she wants to be tall with killer heels, but there’s no escaping the fact she’s a tiny little fairy!”
As she finished her sentence, Jughead pressed ‘stop recording’ on his phone.
“Jug..oh my god, Jug! Delete that!” She squealed.
“No way, Josè!” Jughead laughed, as the two began to play fight and ended up a giggling pile of mess.
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