#but half the time they get so wrapped up in their elaborate guest story that they forget about the sex part | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Text

Day 7: Free Day / AUs - Lies

To her left was Jade, and to her right was Crowley. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

Awkward “family” dinner time~

jnjadaafiabasd I was not built to do timed prompts... Everything felt rushed or not fully proofread, but I tried my best with what little time I had! 🎉 This last week was a bit of a struggle, but I’m proud of myself for pulling through in the end!

A flurry of footsteps reverberated through the Crowley household. Raven hurtled down a stairwell and practically threw herself at the front door, flinging it open. Beyond the door, a masked man and his suitcases awaited.

“Uncle!! You’re back!!” she cried breathily—tired from the dash from the attic to the front porch.

“Hohoh.” Crowley lowered the golden key in his hand. “You’ve beaten me to the punch, it seems.”

“It helps when I’ve got a big window to spy from.” Raven grimaced as talons wove themselves into her hair and raked along her scalp. Her head was left a mess, hair sticking up at odd angles. “How was your trip?”

“There will be plenty of time for stories—you do so love those, don’t you? Just give me a moment to get settled back and have a bite first, little black bird.”

“Okay!” Raven chirped. She eagerly reached for a suitcase. “Here, I’ll he—”

“Please, allow me.”

Her fingers met only air, for the suitcase was snatched up before she could make contact. The other was claimed just as quickly, ending up in the hands of a slimy, smiling eel.

“... Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster.” Jade lowered his head in mock deference. “It is a pleasure to have you back with us. I do hope your conference fared well.”

Crowley’s mouth tightened into a straight line. “You’ll not hear a single peep from me!”

“My, my. You’ve entrusted me with handling your home and your niece in your absence, but not with casual conversation? Truly, I am hurt.”

(Raven shot Jade a warning look, but it went ignored.)

“Leave my bags, and leave us be. Your services are no longer required,” the headmaster crowed. He dug into his pockets and produced a (wrinkled) checkbook and gold-plated fountain pen. “Name your price.”

“I believe that is a value that would be best negotiated with Azul—but worry not, I am not personally interested in your madol.”

... That’s obviously a sketchy thing to say, especially for Octavinelle. They always collect what they’re owed, Raven noted. What does he have up his sleeve now?

Jade’s shoulders suddenly sagged, and a sad smile made its way onto his face. “It is a shame, though... to be chased out before I was able to share my cooking with our esteemed headmaster. It brings a tear to my eye.”

Crowley’s ears perked up—while Raven’s stomach sank.

“Cooking, you say?”

“U-Uncle, don’t fall for it...! He’s baiting you!!” Raven hissed, tugging harshly on his cape.

“I had plans to prepare an extravagant feast, too,” Jade continued, “to welcome you home. A hearty wild game stew, garnished with garden herbs. Fresh baked bread, with a thick crust, perfect for mopping up excess stew. Braised duck in a bright citrus sauce, so succulent and tender that the meat falls off at the bone. Mint gelée on the side—”

“I’m listening...” Crowley’s beady eyes narrowed with vague suspicion. “And just how much would this hypothetical feast cost me?”

“Don’t listen to him, Uncle!!”

“Fufu. There is no need to concern yourself with such trivial matters. Consider it a gift from myself to you.”

“UNCLE!!” Raven screeched—but her frantic calls no longer reached him.

The headmaster was far gone, lured to the water’s edge by a siren’s song. Plastering a wide grin on his face, Crowley spread his arms.

“Jade Leech-kun, why don’t you join us for dinner?”

Raven slowly lowered her face into her hands.

To her left was Jade, and to her right was Crowley. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

Raven glared into her platter of food, refusing to look at either of them. She poked at a slab of meat with her fork, watching the shine of fat dance. Did that glisten belong to a tasteless poison, or to a savory glaze?

Well, the other meals he prepared were safe. This should be fine too... right? Raven carefully inserted a corner into her mouth and tore off a chunk.

Crowley let out a delighted laugh from his seat. “Delicious! Simply delicious!! You’ve outdone yourself with this meal.”

“I am glad to hear that you enjoy it, headmaster.” Jade was handling his silverware a little too deftly for Raven’s liking, driving a knife into his steak with the skill and precision of a predator digging its teeth into vital arteries. And still, that polite smile remained.

She stared—and it did not go unnoticed.

While the headmaster continued to gush, Jade lifted his eyes to meet Raven’s. His smile turned decidedly less kind for a few moments, taunting her. How easily he had infiltrated the home and gotten her guardian wrapped around his finger. It was maddening.

“Miss Raven, you haven’t touched your food,” Jade pointed out.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I am merely advising that you look after your own health and wellbeing,” Jade insisted. “And to think you were so eager to consume my cooking when it was just the two of us...”

“Sh-Shut up...!! I... I can’t help that I’m not used to unwanted guests at the table!”

“Now, now, Raven-kun!” Crowley waved his fork at his niece. “Jade Leech-kun has provided a number of useful services during my absence. We should be more grateful to to have such a helpful young man with us!”

“Do I need to remind you that this same ‘helpful’ young man also ‘helped’ Azul enslave over 200 students?”

“That was then, this is now!”

... You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Yes, I do believe the headmaster is correct. Let us leave the past in the past.”

“As soon as you leave, I’ll gladly purge the events of last week from my mind.” Raven turned to Crowley. “Uncle! I’m no longer a child. The next time you need to leave, you needn’t call for a babysitter—I can take care of myself!”

“Hmm...” The headmaster glanced helplessly between his half-eaten dinner and his niece’s pleasing eyes. “We shall see what comes, given the circumstances.”

Raven sighed—still not fully satisfied with the answer, but unable to wean anything better out of him.

She jabbed her fork into a cherry tomato and chomped down hard on it. Her fangs pierced the red skin, sending some juice squirting onto her cheek. Raven wiped at it with a napkin, then continued to angrily munch on the tomato to vent her frustration.

The clinking of silverware filled the dining room. The air, stiff as stale bread. Crowley coughed—attempting to alleviate the tense atmosphere, but to little success.

“So,” the headmaster began, “did anything interesting happen while I was at the conference?”

“... We argued a lot,” Raven replied flatly. She tactfully left out several details, knowing that she would turn as red as the cherry tomato if she elaborated.

“I did learn quite a few interesting facts during my stay.”

Crowley glanced up from his plate, arching an eyebrow at the eel. “Such as...?”

“Oh, a great many things. For example, how a glittering object catches Miss Raven’s eye, the messiness of her quarters, her midnight musings, the odd manner in which she sleeps...”

Crowley (who had been peacefully inhaling his dinner up until that point) almost choked on a piece of bread. “E-EXCUSE ME?! I don’t recall granting you permission to enter the attic—”

“Wait, you didn’t?” Raven’s brows furrowed. “Then why...”

... Oh.

Another lie.

All along, it had been a lie.

Crowley’s panic, Raven’s confusion—neither seemed to faze Jade. He simply smiled, as collected as ever. Like he had planned this all along, she realized.

“I’m afraid that Miss Raven allowed me in of her own accord. Fufu. I am pleased that she has grown to trust my presence within her private quarters.”

“Is this true, Raven-kun?!”

“Er...” She shrunk back into her seat, wishing she could vanish into her feathered shawl. “I-It was an honest mistake... I didn’t mean to...”

“You know better than that, young lady!!” Crowley chided. “How many times must I warn you to keep shady characters out of your room?!”

“But Jade said--”

“Headmaster, you cannot blame her entirely,” the eel cut in smoothly. “Part of the fault lies with me, as well.”

He’s... confessing? That’s weird.

“I had to deliver her meal, since she refused to eat at the dining room table. Once I saw the state that the attic was in, I sought to return in the subsequent days to assist with cleaning it up. There were also times when I came to check in on Miss Raven, as she has a habit of staying up late into the night. They were all measures I took to ensure her health and comfort, at the cost of breaking a rule--and for that, I must apologize.”

“Oh?” Crowley rested his chin in a taloned hand. “Rule breaking aside, I must commend you for taking action. Putting others’ wellbeing above your own... Perhaps I initially misjudged your character, Jade Leech-kun!”

“I live to serve.”

“How very admirable of you! Yes, yes,” Crowley nodded enthusiastically, “I can rely on such a responsible youth to look after you in the future, Raven-kun!”

“H-Huh? No, no!! He’s definitely still every bit as shady as you thought he was!!” she protested, leaping to her feet and thrusting an accusing finger at Jade. “He’s just lying again...!! He always lies!!”

“Oya, Miss Raven... It’s not healthy for you to become so worked up.” Jade hid his mouth behind his hand--no doubt that his teeth would otherwise be on full display in a cruel grin. “Here, have some more mashed potatoes--I’ve infused them with garlic. This should help temper your blood pressure.”

“I don’t want your stupid mashed potatoes...!!”

Oblivious to the tension in the room, Crowley lifted his glass up and laughed. “Hohoh! It’s nice to see Raven-kun socializing with her peers.”

#twst #Dire Crowley #Jade Leech #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #disney twisted wonderland #twst oc week #Raven Crowley #my art

85 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

“Get It Out!”

Angel Reyes x Reader (Guest appearance from EZ)

Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: We love a little Injured!Angel having to get taken care of by his girl and his brother. This was technically a Whumptober prompt but I have fallen behind on posting those in order so here’s a little one-shot. 😁 Feel free to make requests!

When you had told Angel that you wanted him to be more honest with you, to let you in on what was going on with the club, this is not the direction that you saw it going in. You just wanted to know why he was gone for days at a time and couldn’t communicate with you. You did not expect to have him turning up on your doorstep, half-draped onto his brother, bleeding.

“What the fuck,” you opened the door all the way and helped EZ pull him inside.

“He got stabbed,” EZ didn’t really know how much he should elaborate—he didn’t know how much you knew.

You scoffed, “Yea I can fucking see that, Ezekiel, the blade is still stuck in his leg.”

The two of you carefully lowered Angel onto the floor. You had so many questions but from the look on EZ’s face you weren’t confident that either of them were going to give you many answers. Blood was trickling down Angel’s leg and it was almost too distracting. It was hard to think about what to do when all you could think about was the fact that your boyfriend was one wrong decision away from bleeding out on your floor.

“What do you want me to do?” you finally managed to ask.

“I don’t know,” EZ replied honestly, “He insisted that we come here because you would know what to do.”

You huffed, “Fucking hell. Alright, um, go grab some towels out of the closet. I’m gonna grab some gauze and other stuff. I’ll see if I can get him patched up enough to take him to a real doctor.”

“No doctor,” it was the first time Angel had spoken.

“Angel,” your voice was firm, “this isn’t a debate. I’m gonna get rid of the evidence of whatever crime was involved here,” you gestured broadly to his whole body, “and then I’m gonna come up with a fake story and get you to an emergency room.”

“But—”

“It wasn’t a question,” you cut him off before he could argue.

You flew up the stairs, heading to the bedroom that you and Angel shared. You looked through his drawers, finally finding an old belt that would do exactly what you needed. You gripped it tight in your hand as you also dug around for an old pair of shorts and a clean shirt for him to wear instead of his now-bloody jeans and his kutte.

Once you found everything that you needed in the bedroom, you made your way to the bathroom. You called out to EZ to put the towels underneath Angel’s leg so he wouldn’t bleed all over the floor. You could hear Angel’s voice but it was muffled and you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Surely is was some sort of sarcastic remark. It was probably better that you didn’t hear it.

You rooted through the cabinet in the bathroom until you found some peroxide and gauze. You also grabbed a wash cloth before making your way back downstairs. You dropped all of your treasures on the couch before proceeding to the kitchen. You grabbed a pot and filled it with warm water. You also got your fabric scissors out of the junk drawer, chuckling to yourself that your random crafting phase a few years ago was paying off in the strangest ways now. You brought them out to the living room and set it on the ground next to where EZ had positioned Angel.

You looked over at EZ, handing him the scissors, “Help him get his pants off while I get all of this set up.”

Angel groaned, “C’mon, Y/N, we don’t gotta do all this.”

“You came to me for help, Angel.”

“Just get it out,” he gestured to the blade jutting out of his leg, “Get it out and slap a band-aid on that shit, Querida. I’ll be fine.”

“I say this with all the love in the world, Angel: shut the fuck up,” you gave a pointed look to EZ, “Scissors, jeans, now.”

Angel might be up for arguing with you but EZ knew better. He had yet to piss you off and today certainly wasn’t going to be the day that he changed that trend. He pulled off his brother’s shoes and set about carefully cutting the fabric above and below the blade that was in Angel’s leg, peeling off the piece that was below. The cut off his leg with no issues.

“What do you want me to do with the fabric that’s cut by the knife?”

“Leave it for now,” you were getting the gauze ready, “that’ll be the last piece we take care of.

EZ helped brace Angel off the ground just enough so that he could push the waistband of his jeans down off his hips. It felt foreign to him to try and get his pants off when there was only full leg left of them. EZ carefully maneuvered the cut piece around the blade without touching it too much, but it still made Angel wince and curse under his breath as he wriggled his other leg out of the fabric.

Once his jeans were off and tossed to the side, you started telling EZ your plan. It wasn’t an elegant plan, and honestly if the blade had gotten one of Angel’s arteries there wasn’t going to be all that much you could do for him anyway. So this was your best shot, you just had to pray that it would work as well as you hoped.

“I’m gonna pull the blade out,” your breath shook just saying it, “Then you’re gonna press the gauze hard against the wound to try and slow the bleeding. Then I’m gonna use this,” you held up the belt, “to wrap around it to try and get some good, consistent pressure on it. Hopefully that’ll all work and then we can get fresh clothes on him and get him to the hospital.”

“What about me?” Angel piped up, “What do I do?”

You looked down at him. His face was pretty neutral given the circumstances, but you could see the fear in his eyes. You placed your hand gently on his cheek, “Try to sit as still as possible. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

You looked over at EZ again to make sure that he was ready. He gave you a small nod and you gently wrapped your fingers around the handle of the knife. It wasn’t your typical little pocket-knife, and you were glad they someone had had the foresight to not just yank it out right away. You let out as steady of a breath as you could manage.

“Just get it out, Y/N,” Angel’s voice was harsh but you couldn’t blame him.

“Sorry,” your voice was soft as you pulled it out in one smooth motion.

“Fuck!” Angel screamed and clenched his fists, fighting the urge to squirm from the pain.

You pulled the last small piece of fabric down away from the cut and EZ immediately placed the gauze onto the wound, stifling the bleeding slightly. You took a breath and tried to reassess for your next step. You were going to have to clean out the cut—god only knows where that knife had been before it got jammed into Angel’s leg.

“This is gonna sting, Angel, I’m sorry,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. You lifted EZ’s hands and poured the peroxide onto the cut, immediately pushing EZ’s hands back down again.

Angel’s eyes were shut tight, fighting the urge to let out another scream. He had the towel balled up in his fists, knuckles white. You tried not to think about that as you grabbed the belt, propping his leg up just enough so that you would be able to loop the belt underneath it. He didn’t have scrawny thighs, so it didn’t loop around as many times as you had originally thought it might, but it seemed like so far your plan was working about as well as could be expected. There was no blood spraying everywhere, and it seemed like you would be able to clean him up a little bit and get him to the hospital without him passing out from blood loss. All of those things were huge wins in your book.

You took a deep breath and looked over to Angel, who was a little paler than usual. You gently ran your thumb across his cheekbone before setting about to clean off his leg. You soaked the wash cloth in the warm water and wiped down his entire leg, trying your best to get as much of the dried blood off as possible.

“EZ,” you looked over at him with pleading eyes, “Can you help him stand up so I can pull on his shorts?”

“I can pull on my own shorts. I’m injured, not unconscious,” he sounded bitter.

“You shouldn’t be bending that leg, Angel, that’s all. I know you’re capable of dressing yourself. Don’t start being a baby about all of this now.”

EZ stifled a laugh as he helped his brother to his feet. Angel leaned more of his weight onto EZ than necessary just to make him pay for finding any humor in this situation. Angel did as he was told, though, and allowed you to pull his shorts up. Changing his shirt went much smoother and soon enough he was ready to be taken to the hospital.

They helped him hobble out of the house. EZ was about to guide him back to the pickup but you steered them towards your car. “Back seat is bigger,” you stated matter-of-factly. You and EZ helped ease Angel into the back seat. You hopped in the driver’s seat and EZ sat shotgun.

“What’re you even gonna tell the doctors?” Angel piped up from the back seat.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, “You work at a scrapyard, can’t you just tell them it was a workplace accident?”

“I mean,” he huffed, “I guess.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and returning your eyes to the road. EZ looked over at you with a smirk, “Not bad for not a doctor, Y/N.”

“You boys and your praise. It’s a wonder I can stay so humble.”

#angel reyes #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #ez reyes fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whumptober #drabblesmc

493 notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 3 years

Text

Home (Part 1)

Summary: Two years ago, you’d left behind your hometown and the love of your life to pursue your dream career, but returning for Christmas really made you start to second-guess that decision.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: A Christmassy one for ya’ll! This story is inspired by the requests above from @shawnie--jo, thank you for those and for the inspo! I couldn’t fit everything into a oneshot, so this may end up being three or four parts.

---

You stuffed your bag into the overhead locker and collapsed into your seat, completely exhausted.

Some chaos was to be expected when travelling so close to Christmas, but still, you really could've done without the three hour check-in queues and the chorus of screaming babies.

Leaning back in your chair and pulling on your headphones, you squeezed your eyes shut and just tried to think about all the things that would make this journey worth it, all the things you’d missed about Christmas with your parents.

The excitement on their faces as they greet you at the airport, your mother’s incredible home-cooking, your father’s insistence on playing charades three or more times a day. It was your first time visiting home since moving away two years ago, and you wanted the whole cosy, corny nine yards.

There was just one teensy little caveat to your relaxing family holiday- two years away from home meant two years since you'd seen Bucky.

You were childhood sweethearts, head over heels in love with each other for as long as you could remember and best friends for even longer. When you were offered a job across the country, you wanted so much for him to move with you, but he’d already promised his father that he’d take over the family car-repair business.

It was the most difficult decision of your life, but eventually the two of you agreed there was no choice but to separate.

Being away from him tore you apart for the first few months, but now you'd finally gotten back on your feet, and you were ready to come face to face with your past again.

Or so you thought.

---

Your parents pulled you into a tight bear-hug as soon as you walked through arrivals, taking your bags, talking your ear off and quickly ushering you to the car.

Amongst all the excited babbling, you just about managed to discern that they’d planned a welcome home party for you that night with half the neighbourhood, an announcement which triggered a mix of dread and excitement to begin churning in your stomach.

You were looking forward to seeing your oldest friend again, you just hoped to god that things wouldn’t be weird or awkward between the two of you.

After a short drive, the car pulled up outside your childhood home. Just seeing it from the outside made you feel all warm and cosy but, as soon as you glanced through the door, those feelings were amplified off the charts.

The place looked incredible. Your mother had obviously put so much effort into making it look cosy and festive, you even felt yourself tearing up a little when you stepped inside. It was so elaborate, you had half a mind to interrogate her about a possible Christmas with the Kranks scenario going down prior to your arrival, but you decided it was probably best to just keep your mouth shut.

After you’d looked around properly and unpacked, it was only a matter of hours before the first guests started arriving.

You downed two beers to loosen yourself up a little. Each time the bell went, your eyes snapped towards the door, the sound making your heart leap out of your chest. It felt like you were waiting to find out whether that hard mass in the bottom of your stocking was a big-ass diamond or a lump of coal.

When Bucky finally appeared in the doorway, your jaw almost hit the shag carpet. The last two years had been unreasonably good to him, he looked like James Dean but somehow even more buff.

The boy you'd left behind had become a man in your absence and sweet Jesus it was really making you feel some kind of way.

His eyes were frantically scanning the room but he hadn't spotted you yet, so you took the opportunity to sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, stranger.’

He swivelled round, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Before he said a word, you were pulled into a tight hug, audibly gasping when you were lifted clean off the ground.

‘Where the hell you been, Lilypad?’

You burst out laughing, remembering falling into a pond on your seventh birthday and him never, ever letting you live down. A wave of happy memories flooded your mind, making you smile widely as he set you down.

‘Still the same old Yucky.’

‘Hey, we agreed you wouldn't call me that anymore.’

‘I'll stop calling you Yucky when you stop calling me Lilypad.’

The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘Never.’

And just like that, it felt as though you'd never left.

You were excited to be with your old friend again, you were happy that there seemed to be no awkwardness between the two of you, and you were really doing your very best to suppress all the other intense feelings that had surfaced as soon as he’d walked through the door.

‘Come on, I'll get you a drink.’ You grabbed his arm and dragged him through to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge while he leant against the counter next to you. ‘Are you still working for your dad?’

‘Yep. He's hoping to retire in the next few years, so I'll finally be taking over.’

‘That's so great, you're pretty much set for life with that place.’

He nodded faintly, burying his hands in his pockets and flicking his gaze down to the floor. ‘So how, uh- how long are you back for?’

‘I'm flying back early on the 31st.’

‘You’re not even staying for New Year?’ The hint of disappointment in his voice made you immediately stop what you were doing and look over to him, his face going a little red as he shifted around awkwardly. ‘Ah, I bet you got loads of invites to big, crazy city parties.’

‘If you call staring at a computer screen until 3am and slowly spiralling into madness a party.’

You passed him a beer, his eyes staying fixed on the bottle as he mumbled. ‘All the work will be worth it one day though, right?’

‘I hope so.’

Your eyes locked, a heavy silence falling between you. This was exactly the kind of uncomfortable atmosphere you were dreading.

Panicking a little, you vaguely gestured towards the living room. ‘I should probably, y’know, mingle.’

‘Sure. I'll find you later though Lilypad, we gotta catch up some more.’

You gave him a warm smile and nodded, turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

The next couple of hours seemed to blur together. You made meaningless small-talk with people you barely knew, all the time just thinking about Bucky, about how quickly things had gone from fun and light-hearted to incredibly tense.

You just hoped you could get things back on a good track before you had to leave, losing him completely was the very last thing you wanted.

Shuffling into the kitchen to grab yourself another drink, you noticed him duck out the back door. He must've hit his socialisation limit. The two of you used to reach that point around the same time at parties, so you'd slink out together and share a cheap cigarette.

Abandoning your freshly opened beer on the counter, you followed him out, finding him tucked away around the side of the house.

‘Right on time.’

His head snapped towards you, the cigarette almost falling from his mouth as he shot you a wide smile. ‘Am I that predictable?’

‘I just know you too well.’

You leant against the wall next to him, hugging your arms tight as you felt yourself start to shiver, cause you were the kind of idiot that went outside in December wearing short-sleeves. Bucky noticed straight away, letting out a gruff chuckle as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it round you.

‘That cushy city life has made you soft.’ He rubbed your arms a little, trying to warm you up, before eventually bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders and fixing his gaze to yours. ‘I'm really glad you're here, Lilypad. I've missed you.’

‘I've missed you too, Buck. I've missed a lot of things about this place.’

‘So why don’t you stay longer?’

‘Believe me, I was lucky to get this much time off.’

His eyes narrowed slightly, a concerned frown spreading over his face as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘Is everything alright? I haven't heard much about this job but so far it's pretty much been all negative.’

‘Oh, I do love it, honestly I-’

‘Why would you even try lying to me? You know I can always tell.’

You couldn’t help cracking a slight smile at his smug expression. He was right, the last time you’d managed to successfully lie to him was in first grade when you told him you didn’t know where his crayon sharpener had gone, knowing full well it was stashed in your pocket.

‘It's just a lot.’ You rubbed your forehead exasperatedly. ‘Apart from the few hours of sleep I get each night, I'm pretty much constantly working. You asked earlier if it was worth it and, to be honest, I really don’t know.’

He nodded faintly, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his foot, before opening his arms towards you.

‘C'mere.’

You didn't hesitate. Launching yourself towards him, you let him enclose you, squeezing your eyes shut and wrapping your arms around his neck.

‘You'll figure it out.’ He mumbled into your neck. ‘You always do.’

‘Thank you, Buck.’

After a minute or so, you both pulled away slightly, stopping when you came face to face. A lot of things about home had slipped your mind whilst you’d been away, but you’d never forgotten how gazing into Bucky’s piercing blue eyes made you feel.

That feeling had never changed, and you were sure it never would.

You dropped your hands to rest on his shoulders, your eyebrows shooting up when you noticed how rock-hard they were. ‘Jesus, Buck. I’ve only been gone for two years, have you been at the gym that whole time?’

‘Nope, just been working hard at the garage.’ What absolute bullshit. ‘But feel free to keep the compliments coming.’

You smirked and feebly shoved him away, turning to head back inside but stopping suddenly before taking a step. ‘Oh, you better pick that cigarette butt up or my mom will go ape shit.’

‘Good call.’

You slipped through the back door, passing his jacket back when he followed you in. The two of you couldn’t have been out there for more than a few minutes, but it seemed as though the crowd inside had really started thinning out.

Bucky’s parents strolled over when they spotted him, informing him of their intent to leave pretty soon too, so he gave you a long hug goodbye and made you promise that you'd see each other again before the end of the holidays.

The two of you had parted on a good note, which was all you’d wanted going into the party, but now you found that you were pretty keen to squeeze as many more good notes out of these next few days as you could.

It was probably best not to delve too deeply into the feelings behind that sentiment. So you didn’t.

You helped your parents tidy up, your eyelids drooping as the exhaustion from a long day of travelling and socialising finally set in. Just as you were about to head upstairs, your mother piped up, using her expertly crafted trying to appear casual despite being really very invested in what I’m asking tone.

‘It must've been nice seeing Bucky again.’

‘Oh yeah, definitely.’

‘He must've changed quite a bit since you were here last.’

You chuckled to yourself. ‘Physically, yeah, but he's still the same goofy dumbass he's always been.’

‘It's always a treat when he pops round, he's such a nice boy.’ A suspicious eyebrow crept up your forehead. ‘And he's still single y'know, he hasn't-’

‘Alright. That's my cue to go to bed.’

Your dad strolled over and gave you a firm pat on the back. ‘Good idea, sweetheart. Get out while you still can.’

‘Thank you. It's nice having one sane parent.’

‘Although, I do have to say, he has been very good to us since-’

‘Dad!’ He raised his arms in surrender, using one hand to zip up his mouth. ‘Lord help me. Goodnight, crazies.’

You quickly escaped up the stairs. Stumbling into your room and pulling on your pyjamas, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows and letting out a long, exhausted sign.

As you drifted off to sleep, all the stress of the day melted away, leaving a single thought to echo around your mind.

You’d really overestimated how over Bucky you were.

---

Part 2

---

Permanent Taglist: @nnuree @tcc-gizmachine @somewhatasoftbaddie @emmabarnes @juenenfeu @linkpk88 @ddowii

Join my permanent taglist here or let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story

---

169 notes · View notes

honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Here Comes the Bride (and the Boys)

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,039

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

You’re is getting married! But, to get married, you need a dress. And instead of family at the dress appointment, the Reader brings some rather unusual guests. Her fiancé’s three weird best friends.

“First of all, you’re wrong!”

You laughed, bent in half and gripping the dashboard for support as Benny and Will argued in the backseat. You were taking the boys dress shopping, and you hadn’t anticipated the disaster that would be the Miller brothers sitting in the car together.

“Fuck you, a single Twinkie is absolutely bite sized!” Benny said angrily, taking a Twinkie out of his pocket and ripping the package open. “See?” And then he stuffed it in his mouth, proving that it was, in fact, one bite.

Will laughed, punching his brother lightly. “You’re disgusting. We are on our way to a distinguished wedding dress appointment and you’re here stuffing your face with twinkies.”

Santiago, who had the misfortune of driving, sighed. “Lord help me,” he said, turning into the parking lot of the bridal place. “I am surrounded by morons.”

Still smiling, you texted Frankie, who was sitting at home and trying to decide what the wedding’s color scheme would be.

You: Your bffs are fucking idiots

Goldfish: I’m sorry?

You: Benny just ate a whole ass Twinkie in one bite

Goldfish: Wow. Tell him he’s disgusting

You: Will already did. Gtg, we’re there

Goldfish: love you

You: Love you too babe

Getting out of the car, you suddenly rethought your decision to bring the boys to help you choose a wedding dress. But you really didn’t want to do it alone and no one in your family could make it. So you’d grabbed what you hoped was the next best thing. Frankie’s friends.

But it was too late. You pulled the door to the place open and walked in, smiling at the receptionist. “Hello! I’m here for an appointment.”

The receptionist eyed your group and nodded. “Of course. Last name?”

“Morales.” Technically that wasn’t your last name yet, but you’d been engaged for almost a year now and using Frankie’s last name just felt natural.

Once you were checked in, you waited on a couch with the boys.

“So what kind of dress are you getting?” Benny asked, looking at a dress that looked, and this was the nice way of saying it, like an overly decorated pastry.

“Not that,” you said. “I dunno. Maybe A-line? The last fancy thing I wore was when Frankie and I went out to that restaurant last New Years, but that had no back, and I’m not going that slutty for my wedding day.”

Will snorted. “Okay. So the requirements are currently as follows. It must have a back, and it cannot be, in your words, slutty.”

“It has to be white,” you added. “And I want a floor length dress.”

“Well that’s not enough to work off of.”

You shrugged. “It’s what I got.”

Your consultant came in at that point. “Oh! Well, I guess I don’t have to ask who’s the bride!” She said. “I’m Zoe. Who’d you bring with you? Any family?”

“Nope!” You said, looking at the boys. “These are my fiancé’s three best friends, Santiago, Benny, and William.”

Zoe nodded. “Okay. How long have you been engaged?”

You shrugged. “A year, give or take. My fiancé, Frankie, was military until about four months ago, when he went on his last mission.” You could still remember how defeated he’d been coming home, the pain in his eyes as he told you about Tom and everything else. “We’re getting married in September.”

“Awesome!” Zoe said. “So, budget?”

“Frankie and I put aside about two thousand.”

Zoe nodded again. “And are we looking for any specific style of dress?”

You shook your head. “Nope. I just know I want it a bit more conservative, but not something that covers every inch of skin I’ve got.”

“Okay then,” Zoe said. “Let’s go look at some dresses!”

Unsurprisingly, the boys were apprehensive about this part. Benny was the first to recover, happily diving in and pulling a few dresses to ask you about them. Once he found his groove, Will and Santi quickly followed suit.

“What about this?” Santi asked, showing you a dress.

“Eh,” you said, looking over. “I don’t like that feathery bit on the bottom.”

It was interesting, shopping for a wedding dress. You’d only wear it once, but it was so damn important. You passed over dress after dress, dismissing most of them. Eventually, after a fair amount of searching, you and the boys had picked out a few dresses that were all decent contenders.

Trying the dresses on, that was a completely different story. The first dress Zoe brought you, which was one of Santi’s picks, was gorgeous, and actually made your tear up a bit.

“Oh dear, tears already?” Zoe asked, handing you a tissue.

“I just,” you said weakly, wiping your eyes. “I love Frankie so much, and I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through, I’m finally able to officially call him mine.”

Zoe rubbed your back. “I get it hon,” she consoled. “He must be one hell of a man.”

“Oh he definitely is.”

After a few more minutes of admiring the dress and composing yourself, you walked out to show the boys.

Immediately, they went quiet, admiring your dress. You stood on a small pedestal, turning and admiring the dress in the big mirror. “I like it.”

“But?” Santiago prompted.

“I don’t get that big wow feeling,” you finished, almost guilty. “Sorry Santi.”

Santiago shook his head. “It’s okay,” he promised. “But you do like it?”

You nodded, swishing the dress around. “Yeah. It’s got the right amount of pop.”

“Pop?” Benny asked.

“Details,” you elaborated, running a hand along the subtly flowered waistline. “Flair. Call it whatever. And the shape is nice.”

Will nodded. “The sleeves aren’t your thing, are they?”

“Yeah, absolutely not.” You put a finger under the short sleeve. “It’s tight across the shoulders and I feel like I can’t lift my arms.”

“So no short sleeves?” Santiago asked.

“We can eliminate short sleeves,” you decided.

The next few dresses were all like the first. Decent and very pretty, but not your dress. You managed to eliminate a few other things you weren’t too fond of, like the super tight mermaid dresses and the overly poofy princess dresses. Sleeveless was still on the table, but you were hesitant about that. The boys gave amazing criticism, and no one started any drama, which was nice. But still, you found yourself wishing Frankie were here. He’d know exactly what to recommend. You could almost hear him whispering in your ear as you examined yet another not right dress.

“I’m sure you’ll get it eventually, margarita.”

You sighed, deeming the dress a flop and heading back to try something else on.

And then you passed a dress on the way back to the changing room that made you stop in your tracks.

“What is it?” Zoe asked, stopping right behind you.

“What’s that?” You asked, pointing to the dress.

Zoe followed your finger. “Oh. That’s a dress we just got. It’s from a small designer who specializes in unique dresses.”

“Can I try it on?” You asked, still mesmerized.

“Sure.” Zoe grabbed the dress. “It’s not floor length though.”

You shrugged, still watching the dress with nothing short of awe. “I’m willing to bend for this dress.”

The dress fit you perfectly, and when you turned around to look at it for the first time, you were dead silent for a whole minute before starting to cry again.

“Still good tears?” Zoe asked hopefully, helping you step back into your white flats.

“This is my dress,” you said softly. “This is my dress.”

Zoe smiled. “It looks really good on you,” she said. “Shall we show the boys?”

You nodded, smoothing your hands down the textured fabric of the skirt.

Walking out to show the boys was the hardest thing you’d done in a while. The dress was perfect, it was definitely the one, but what if they didn’t agree?

You heard gasps from the group when you stepped onto the pedestal, back facing them.

“So?” Zoe prompted. “What do you think?”

“It’s my dress,” you said yet again. “It’s perfect.”

“It is,” Santiago agreed. “C’mon, turn for us, let us see.”

You turned, facing the boys.

Immediately, Benny, who was smiling, threw his hands up. “Okay, so we threw all the rules out for this dress.”

You laughed, feeling the skirt swish around your calves. “It’s perfect Benny. I had to break the rules for the daisies.”

“I don’t get it,” Benny said, leaning back. “Why daisies?”

“That’s what Frankie calls me,” you said softly. “I’m his margarita. It’s Spanish for daisy.”

You turned to examine the dress again. It was still white, which would placate your mother and gave you that bride feeling in the pit of your stomach. But the thing that sold you was the thin layer of sheer white fabric on top, the layer with the small daisies on it. The sleeves were nice, loose without being a hazard and tight without being too restricting. The V neck was modest enough for a wedding, and the smooth white ribbon around your natural waist really helped define the shape of the dress.

Zoe came out with a matching flower crown and placed it on your head, causing you to tear up when you faced yourself in the mirror again.

“Oh honey,” Santiago said, standing and wrapping you in a hug. “Is it group hug time?”

You nodded, feeling the warm embrace of the boys around you. “Thank you,” you said softly, surrounded by friends. “My mother would’ve had an aneurysm if I tried this on for her.”

Benny laughed, rubbing your back. “We get it,” he said. “And trust us, Fish is gonna adore it.”

Seven months later, you were freaking out, trying not to cry in your small tent, twenty minutes before you were supposed to walk down the aisle.

“What if he doesn’t show up?” You asked one of your bridesmaids, Luca. “What if he doesn’t wanna get married anymore?”

Luca put her hands on your shoulders. “Hey. I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you, and I’m absolutely positive he’s sticking around.”

You took a breath, anxiety spiking again as a knock echoed on the door.

“Can we come in? We have a gift for the bride.”

You eagerly accepted the boys in, embracing them each in turn.

“You look like a goddess,” Will complimented, holding you at arm’s length and smiling. “He’s so nervous.”

“Told you so!” Luca shouted.

Benny laughed. “He told us to give you this.”

You took the small box, opening it hesitantly and pressing a hand to your mouth before the tears bubbled over. It was a necklace, nothing seemingly expensive or fancy. It had a thin silver chain, and on the end of the chain was a circle of resin, no bigger than a quarter, with a beautiful pressed daisy in it.

Luca helped you slip the necklace over your head. The daisy pendant sat on your skin, just above the V neck, barely visible.

“Are you ready?” Santiago asked, placing the necklace box down.

You nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

The next almost half hour of waiting was agony. You texted Frankie, both of you anxious and both of you very ready for the ceremony to be over. Then, Frankie stopped responding, and you heard the music. It was time.

You father took your arm and guided you out of the tent, into the park you’d picked for the venue. Plenty of people were waiting for you, but you only had eyes for one of them.

Frankie turned, his entire face lighting up as he saw you walking towards him. He looked amazing, all clean and neat in a suit with a small daisy tucked into his lapel. He wasn’t wearing his hat, but you almost wished he was. He’d shaved, but that tiny spot where he constantly complained about the lack of facial hair was still there and obvious.

You father smiled, placing your hands in Frankie’s. He squeezed them, and you felt pure joy humming through your veins. You were getting married.

“Ready?” Frankie asked you softly, so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

You didn’t even hesitate to answer. “I’m ready.”

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

88 notes · View notes

prince-toffee · 3 years

Text

Villains

Part One

Hordak’s heavy steps echoed across the hallways as he marched alongside four rows of his personal guards, his most skilled and deadliest warriors, two rows on his left and two on his right. In their hands they firmly gripped stun-batons and stun-staffs. Hordak himself had no weapon except for his own bare hands, enhanced by his exo-skeleton armour, plating coating his chest, cables coiled around his thin weak arms, like a secondary thick layer of muscles, and metal boots enhancing his speed. The symbol of the red wings of the vampire were painted onto every armour of every soldier of the Horde.

The reason why Hordak had gathered his guard and set off to the Black Garnet Chamber was because of an act of treachery, and betrayal. Shadow Weaver had taken up the sword against him, so to speak. The clone lord had employed the sorceress for her professional and prideful knowledge of magic arts and his own lack of such knowledge. He was far more of a man of science, he knew things about space and machinery no one else on Etheria did. Well maybe one person did, this Entrapta seemed to be more of Hordak’s speed. He did not know much about the Princess of Dryl, but she seemed bright, she was a rare blessing among the people of the planet he was trapped on. She was a scientist, a true scientist, very little of those on Etheria. Her language he could understand. She was the only person that could hold a proper conversation with him, that was something he quite enjoyed, even though they had only spoken once or twice.

She was one of the hostages Shadow Weaver was holding in the chamber room. The other hostages frozen in place by her dark magic included both Force-Captain Scorpia, recently assigned to that division for her professional expertise to help increase efficiency, and Force-Captain Catra to whom the ex-Scorpion-Princess was assigned to as Catra seemed easily distracted, unfocused, and strangely obsessed with her archenemy. Hordak remembered appointing the Magicat the new Force-Captain, it was in their first interaction. He remembered Shadow Weaver dragged her ward into his throne room hopeing to embarrass and berate and insult her, Hordak didn’t care about such pettiness. From what he understood they were one Force-Captain down, as one of Weaver’s wards had deserted the Horde. So he simply appointed the second best fitting candidate, the records and grades claimed that even though Catra was the most absent and late person on the team, when she decided to show up she showed she was skilled in combat, strategy-crafting, leading, and thinking outside the box. She seemed right for the pick.

Hordak always had a sneaking suspicion that there would come a day when Shadow Weaver would try to betray him, but he had hoped that their promise of mutual destruction would have prevented the either from crossing the line. Weaver needed to leech off of other sources to survive, she usually resorted to people in her earlier days before bowing in front of the Horde and Hordak, afterwards she only needed the Garnet. Hordak had given Entrapta the go-ahead to study and use the Garnet in any way she wished as her experiments seemed to increase the overall efficiency of the Horde. Shadow Weaver didn’t like that. She choose to fight back.

Hordak and his soldiers reached the door leading to the Garnet Chamber. The young general reached out with his claw hand, his greyish-blue talon pressed a green button, waiting for the button to instruct the metallic door to slide up. Before the door itself could open up the metal slab burst open and peeled back like a banana, a black and crimson shadow claw grabbed him. It’s own talons tightened around him forcing out a scream from him. And he was yanked inward into the chamber, he fell onto the cold floor, or at least it should have been cold, but it was getting hotter, no doubt due to the electrical magic expelled by the dark sorceress.

He growled. Before he could get up onto his own two feet the darkness latched onto him, flinging him up into the ceiling, forcing him to crash against various wiring and cables that dislodged and fell down with him. He began to breath heavily as pain shot throw his body.

The troops moved forward to engage, but were frozen by Weaver’s magic almost immediately, like the two Force-Captains and Princess on the side, all simply looked on in fear as the Mysticore witch overpowered the Lord of the Horde. Tendrils of magic wrapping around his frame, tightening and crushing both him and his suit. He got a few good hits off on the woman, one punch braking a shadow construct, the second punch making contact with the witch and the impact threw her across the room. He knocked the wind out of her, that slowed her down as she tried to catch her breath. Bent over, eyes down, hands on her knees, she didn’t see another fist flying in her direction. The hit shattered her mask, pieces of the mask, spit and a single red droplet flew into the opposite direction of the punch. Luckily all the teeth were intact. That got her real angry.

The dark woman drew back her arm, a small black sphere appeared a few centimetres above her palm, red veins of electricity crackled around her hand and the sphere grew to the size of a bowling ball in seconds. And from it shot out a beam of black that hit Hordak directly in his chest. The pain and sensation it inflicted apon Hordak was indescribable, cold like the vacuum of space, while simultaneously burning like being in a whirlwind of a wildfire. He was pushed up against a wall and the dark beam kept him in place, the black mass spread across his body like a thick dense clay. The cold and the burning spread with it. His deep screams and yells increased in volume. Pain like a thousand knives stabbing his nerves.

“We had a deal! You stay out of my way and I stay out of yours! Simple! The Garnet is mine! No one else will touch it!” The black and red mass coiled and spiked, Hordak screamed so much he ran out of breath. “Watch! All of you!” Shadow Weaver turned to the guard troopers and the trio. “Watch as your leader and ‘Lord’ is defenceless, the conqueror conquered!” The clone general attempted to struggle against her hold, but it was all for nothing. The witch noticed the movement and had enough of this, she clamped her fist closed, tightening around the sphere, stabbing her fingers into it, and then flicked them out from the sphere. Like manipulating a voodoo doll, the black mass tore Hordak’s armour apart like plastic. “You were told to fear the Hordak, made believe that he was powerful, terrifying, a demon among men! And yet, all a lie! Look at him, your frail, weak, and sick ‘Lord’! This is the liar and fraud under whom you kneeled! Reject, banish this pretender! And pledge your loyalty to me!... or else.” She turned to Hordak for the finale time, and she blasted him out of the room through the wall, outside.

The soldiers were freed, and they quickly kneeled to the Shadow Weaver, very obviously out of fear. Catra, Scorpia, and Entrapta did so as well. And Hordak, several metres outside and below the point from which he was launched. His last moments of consciousness were that of the hole he was pushed through, a crowd gathering around him and a faint chant, “All Hail The Shadow Weaver.” And then the darkness took over.

“And how’d you make it out of The Fright Zone? All the way here? To BrightMoon?”

“That, I entirely do not know. I remember passing in and out of consciousness I... they must’ve dragged me out of my fortress and threw me out into the desert, to let the elements claim me. There one of your scouting groups found me, correct?” The trapped clone looked past the She-Ra at the BrightMoon’s angel Queen. Angella confirmed the latter half of the story, past that she had no idea. The moment the lilac skinned, feather winged, immortal Queen was given the report that some of her woman somehow managed to capture her nemesis and the leader of the Evil Horde, that moment ranked as one of the strangest in her life. She practically leaped off her golden throne and sprinted through the halls to the front of the castle. And true enough, there he was, bleeding and chained.

Hordak was thrown into the castle prison, or so they called it, but where the clone expected cold metal bars, hard floor, greys and other dull colours, and small claustrophobic spaces. Instead he was greeted with bright pinks and purples, soft pillows and blankets and armchair. He was confused. The only aspect of the location that suggested its own true function and purpose was the thin transparent glass-like, curtain, veil-like force field, a pretty rainbow effect coated the structure.

He did not know what to think of the ‘cell’. It was... nice. Even though the Queen acted like it wasn’t. He was pretty sure that the room was some sort of guest room, it looked too nice for a basement, but that was BrightMoon, they probably have storage rooms larger and grander than most rooms in The Fright Zone. “It is a prison!” The angel Queen argued. After the Queen’s long elaborate speech about how Hordak was a monster and the Horde was an evil unparalleled by anything in BrightMoon’s history, and how he should have been ashamed of his actions and that if she was like him she would’ve killed him where he stood, after all that the She-Ra entered.

“It’s just Adora.”

“Very well, She-Ra Adora.”

“Ugh.”

She massaged her templates, her very brief irritation was cut even shorter by a sharp ‘HA’ that escaped from the snickering Glimmer. “The Mighty Evil Lord Hordak, King of Horrors, the Baron of Bedlam, and the Master of Mayhem? Really? I’m kinda disappointed. You were our greatest enemy? Hahaha, can you even do one push-up? Let me guess Weaver uses your arms to pick broccoli out of her teeth? HA!” Hordak’s face remained blank, unphased, and unamused.

None of them noticed his pupils shifted as they were covered by crimson red lens, and they shifted to Adora. Curiously the She-Ra didn’t engage or enjoy the roast, even the stoic Queen and the Head-Sorceress both held cheeky smiles, but not this Adora. Her eyes remained fixed on him.

The difference between Adora and everyone else in that room was the fact that she was from the Horde. Adora had been with the Alliance for almost a year, it was only a few months ago she was still living in The Fright Zone, studying war under the symbol of the Horde. For most of her life she perceived Hordak as their leader, as a strong, righteous hero, a saint who sought to quell chaos in the world and install control, order, and peace. Adora and all the other cadets all their lives looked up to Hordak. To look down on him now didn’t come to her naturally. All her life she wanted to impress him and now she was told to insult him.

“Could you leave us?” Adora’s genuine and semi-serious question shocked everyone in the room. Glimmer was the first to argue, and was the most vocal about it. The Princess of BrightMoon found the request outrageous. Even Angella attempted to oppose her choice, placed a hand on her shoulder, told her Hordak was a manipulator and a conqueror, he could try to trick her. When she realised there was no dissuading the young woman she let off. She ended with telling the young She-Ra to be careful. Angella motioned for Casta and Glimmer to move out of the room.

Glimmer was the last individual to leave, she turned around and she stuck her tongue out, “You better watch yourself toothpick-arms! If you touch a single hair on her hair-!”

“I got this Glim! Thanks!” Adora interjected, giving her a thumbs up. Glimmer squinted and walked backwards out of the room. And so Adora and Hordak were the only ones left. A tense silence filled the room. Neither really knowing what to say. Hordak didn’t know why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable, perhaps it was the look the girl gave him. She looked... disapproving, or disappointed. “The war could be over soon. At least that’s what all the others think, but if what you say is true, when I think the end of the war is further away than ever... You know, I don’t know if you know, but I was her ward, I think I was her pet, her favourite. It was hard to tell with her twisted version of ‘love’ if you could call it that. She certainly put everyone else down around me.”

“She certainly felt, in her mind, that you were ‘special’ in some way. She said so when I returned to The Fright Zone with you, and you two met for the fist time. Therefore I can definitely see that sort of favouritism forming.”

“...Wait... when ‘you’ first brought me back to The Fright Zone? D- Do you know where I come from?!” That exclamation gave Hordak pause. He wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, he was trained in the art of war, to combat opponents on battlefields of any kind, he could withstand the void of space, and his mind altered to form battle strategies and tactics in milliseconds, of course all of those enhancements have been long lost because of his defect. But this, he was not prepared for. He adjusted his position on the soft fluffy armchair, no matter how he moved he felt his backside sink into it. He awkwardly cleared his voice, that unintentionally brought Adora’s focus back onto him.

“I... well... yes... I” Hordak was not a liar. In fact Hordak himself had no concept of lying, he didn’t know how to, the clone was loyalty personified. It was figuratively and literally beaten into him. So he had to be careful about what he revealed, he may have been truthful, but he wasn’t stupid, arguably. He didn’t want to show all his cards. So he choose to keep his portal secret, same with his origin. So as he replied he choose to leave some key information out, “I was the one who found you, my personal computer picked up an anomaly, a strange, powerful energy surge.” Hordak noticed Adora’s eyes widened, her mouth was gradually opening wider and wider, as she began to lean forward in captivation. “And, uhm, [clears throat] at the time I was not sure what I found, I did not know what you were. But in the middle of a field of quadrant PT5-5-03 in the west region of The Elder Forest, there I found a crying infant and that was you. And so I brought you back with me to The Fright Zone. I had no use for you, and the noises you were making were causing my anxiety levels to rise so I handed you to Shadow Weaver, my Minister of Magicks.”

Adora’s face betrayed the fact that she was disappointed, and the story was quite anti-climatic sooner than her raised volume did. “That’s it?! Not that I wanted you to, but I was expecting you to have stolen me from like a cradle or something. I kinda hoped you’d know where I came from.”

“I do not... I... am sorry?” That was true. He did not. Hordak’s confusion was apparent, he didn’t know how to react to the hero’s theory. And so they stood and sat there for a moment longer, neither saying anything. In that quiet moment Adora realised that the bat lord wasn’t... scary. I mean it was ‘Hordak’, so the name itself was scarier than the actual man, as all her life the name was taught to the cadets as a monstrous horror entity, ‘Hordak’ was a King who sat on top a throne of skulls and he ate hearts and everything died around his step, he had two heads, and he breathed fire. That was ‘Hordak’.

But the man that sat uncomfortably in front of her was no such thing, he wasn’t ‘Hordak’, not ‘The Hordak’ she was told to believe in, all those cadet scary stories they all told each other all kind of seemed non-sensical now, she had to admit. The man she was looking at was thin, slim, in a not healthy way. He looked like a skeleton, like a weak breeze could push him over. He himself looked weak and fragile, sickly even. Now she was getting worried just scanning over him, she thought maybe she should’ve offered him like some mint tea or warm towels or... or something.

“You’re nothing like what we expected.”

Hordak raised his brow ridge, “How do you mean?” He didn’t know why he asked, he shouldn’t have asked.

“I- no offense, but, uh, I thought you’d be a bit scarier, you know ‘a horror of biblical proportions’ something like that?”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He replied awkwardly.

“Yeah, no, no, it’s cool.” She scratched the back of her neck, “Soooo uh... oh did you say you didn’t know ‘what’ I was? I mean I haven’t ever seen your species around, in The Fright Zone or any kingdom I’ve been to while with the Alliance. Do your species n- eh, how do I not make this sound weird, not have babies? Do you guys grow out of cabbages or are delivered by storks, hehehe?” Her attempt at humour flopped as she noticed he didn’t seem to get it.

His eyes darted around the room as if he was thinking of how to articulate something, ”No we... people like me... we are not children, we are in this state all our lives, from gaining consciousness to death.”

“So where do you come from?”

“...That is enough. Leave me.” That was a shame, Adora thought they were getting somewhere, but the cold and the lack of emotion returned. He dropped the eye contact, he stared down at the floor, he turned into a statue, no slight motion betraying the fact he was a real person. Adora tried to start up the conversation again few times, to no avail. Hordak revealed too much already. So Adora left the room.

#hordak #shadow weaver #entrapta #adora #part two coming soon

31 notes · View notes

dangerouscommiesubversive · 3 years

Text

someone behind me was tracing my steps / maybe you’re better off this way

Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki

Characters: Asakura Takeshi, Kido Shinji

Songs: "After the Fall," October Project & "Passive," A Perfect Circle (playlist here)

Takeshi’s sitting against the wall, bleeding out, and the mirror guy—Kanzaki, right—is standing over him, mouth twisted in something he vaguely recognizes as dismay. “I can’t use this, there’s barely any energy left,” he says, not to Takeshi, and there sure as hell isn’t anyone else in the room. “I’ll have to reset.”

“Hang on a second.” Takeshi coughs and feels his mouth fill up with the taste of copper, which isn’t such a bad flavor when you get down to it. “What about my wish?”

Kanzaki doesn’t even look at him, already fucking around with the mirror. “You don’t want anything, there’s no point.”

“Sure I want something.”

“…what on Earth could you want at this point? It’s all going to be reset anyway.”

Takeshi grins up at him, knowing that it’s sure to be an unnerving sight with his teeth all over blood. “Lemme remember.”

“Out of the question. Giving one participant unnecessary foreknowledge would interfere with the procedure.”

“Nah, nah, I’m not gonna interfere with shit. It was just a hell of a time.” Takeshi looks up just as Kanzaki is looking down and grins his bloody grin a little wider. “I like to remember times when I had fun. Looking forward to doing it over again. Let me remember.”

---

It’s not until he graduates university that Shinji realizes that he’s missing something.

Slightly after, really. He graduates, he works some shitty part-time gigs, he does some freelancing, and then Ookubo gets in touch and offers him a job at Ore Journal. That’s all fine, but when he steps through the door of the Ore offices he’s hit with a wave of déjà vu so powerful that he nearly trips and falls face-first into Reiko’s desk. Fortunately he catches himself before anyone notices. It had been bad enough trying to explain to his mother about the girl who lived in his mirror when he was thirteen; he can’t imagine how the people here would react to, “I remember walking into this room for the first time at least eight times over.”

He gets a grip on himself, but the feeling of loss stays. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what. Sometimes he’ll get a glimpse of it, he’ll pass someone on the street or overhear a snatch of conversation and a fragment of memory will overwhelm him, but he never gets everything.

From the bits that he sees, he’s not sure that he wants to get everything. It might be better to be missing something than to remember.

---

Takeshi’s known that he’s missing something for a long time now, and whatever it is, he wants it back.

He’s not exactly an educated guy, but he knows himself pretty well, and the idea that there’s a big chunk of him missing is galling. He can feel its absence. He can’t tell what it is, it hasn’t got any kind of useful shape, no edges that he can detect, but it’s his. And since he wouldn’t just go carving out part of himself, that means he’s been robbed.

He doesn’t take kindly to being robbed.

Mostly, though, he can ignore it, the way you ignore a hole in the wall that you don’t feel like repairing yet. He does what he likes, gets what he wants, eats when there’s food, and doesn’t think about it unless he reaches for something in his mind and finds that it isn’t there.

And then he sees the journalist.

Some sweet-faced kid, he is, showing up at a bar that Takeshi likes and bugging the regulars about a local ghost story that Takeshi knows for a fact is bullshit. He doesn’t try coming over to Takeshi’s corner, because the bartender visibly warns him off, but he’s talking to everyone else. That suits Takeshi fine. He can just sit with his drink and watch and remember, in shards and splinters, tantalizing and incomplete.

Kido Shinji is what’s printed on the business card he swipes from the bartender once the journalist leaves, with the address of a tea shop written on the back in pen.

Now there’s a name that rings a bell.

He stares down at the card for a moment, not sure whether he’s pleased or furious, and then heads out. Guy couldn’t have gone far.

---

Shinji gets through the door and is immediately handed an apron and a bandana for his hair. “Dishes.”

“What—Ren, I just got here.”

“Yeah, and there are dirty dishes. I don’t have time to deal with them, there are customers.” Ren squints at him for a moment, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Shinji pauses in the middle of tying back his hair, uneasy. “I’ll tell you once there aren’t customers. Where’s Miyu—he’s still working, ok.”

Ren rolls his eyes. “Apparently that middle schooler who was here last week told all of her friends about him, he’s been busy all day.”

There are a lot of dishes piled up, and it keeps Shinji busy until Ren’s shooing out the last customers of the day. Atori’s different without the old lady, but it’s not a bad different; hopefully she’s happy in whatever warm place she moved to after she sold the shop to Ren. She’d certainly never seemed happy here.

He’s happy here. In a stable place, with a little bit of stable work apart from Ore, with people who inexplicably love him for reasons that none of them quite remember clearly.

When the last customer is out the door, Ren leans back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and says, “So something’s bothering you, spit it out.”

Shinji frowns down into the dishwater. “I think someone was following me again today.”

“What, again? How long’s this been going on now, two weeks?”

“Three and a half. Ever since that thing I was looking into about the ghost, do you remember that one?” One saucer in the dish rack, start washing the next piece. “Maybe I pissed off the ghost.”

“You said there wasn’t a ghost.”

“Well, yeah, but what if there was and now it’s following me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not being chased by a ghost.”

Shinji glances nervously over his shoulder, as if he’ll see his ghost reflected in the tea shop window. “How can we be sure, though?” He picks up another dirty cup and starts to wash it. “Some of the things I remember…”

Ren’s arms wrap around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “They aren’t here,” more softly and gently than he usually speaks. “No ghosts. Just you, me, and Miyuki.”

“No ghosts.” Shinji takes a deep breath. “You’re right. No ghosts.”

---

The place isn’t tough to break into. Decent locks, but nothing Takeshi can’t get past with a crowbar. He lets himself in and looks around the vaguely-familiar tea shop with interest before heading past the counter and to the back. Stairs lead up to the apartment above, and sure, they creak a little, but that’s nothing to worry about. After all, he’s still got the crowbar if he really needs it.

Upstairs, the place is chaotic in sort of a cute way, decorated as it is by three people with clearly pretty different sensibilities, fragments of three very different lives on display. It smells faintly of frying oil, too. Someone made something good for dinner tonight. On a whim, he checks the fridge, finds a container of leftover gyoza, and eats them absently as he contemplates the shopping list stuck to the freezer door. Eggs, rice, sliced pork belly, in neat handwriting that definitely isn’t Kido’s.

He finishes the gyoza and the tail-end of a carton of milk, leaving the empty containers behind on the counter and picking up his crowbar again as he heads toward the back of the apartment.

There are three bedrooms, and none of them are marked, doors closed against the darkened hallway. Checking each one would be a hassle, and might lead to more trouble than Takeshi feels like getting in right now. Instead he just remembers how jumpy Kido seemed even before Takeshi started following him and lets intuition lead him to the room closest to the fire escape.

The door swings open, and the first thing he sees is a cloth square on the wall. A covered mirror.

There we go.

Kido’s asleep, sprawled across the bed with his head tossed back and his hair spread out on his pillow, throat pale and exposed. Alone, which makes things a little easier. There’s a computer desk set up in the corner of the room; Takeshi grabs the chair from it, drags it over next to the bed, and sits, resting the end of the crowbar on the floor as he’s saying, softly and cheerfully, “Hey, Kido. Wake up.”

A shift, an irritated mumble, “Not time to—” and then one eye opening halfway and the jolt, Kido scrambling upright in the bed, one hand flung out to the side reaching for something that isn’t there.

What isn’t there?

Splinters reform into another regained memory: a deck of cards in an elaborate case, gleaming purple metal smooth and cool in Takeshi’s hands. There’s a name that goes with it, or maybe more than one, faint and still lost but centimeters from the tip of his tongue.

Kido’s gone white as a pan of milk, hand still empty because they’re in a world with no decks, now, no monsters that Takeshi suddenly remembers with fondness, not nearly as much fun, and Takeshi leans forward on his crowbar and smiles, friendly, like, and says, “Come on, Kido, I remember you being more interesting.”

---

Shinji can hear his heart beating over the ringing in his ears. There’s a bit of light coming in from between the mostly-closed curtains, just enough to see by, and with his hand coming up empty and his unwelcome guest illuminated so that only golden hair and white teeth are visible, he is assailed by memory.

He knows this man.

From the corner of the bar where he’d been looking into that ghost story, sure, the one the bartender had told him not to bother, but also from before, from ten befores or more. A killer, vicious and cheerfully so, dangerous to be around, but beneath the adrenaline thrum Shinji can feel another pulse, pity, pity, pity, perhaps misplaced but still there.

He fights to get his breathing under control and says, “Asakura. What are you doing here?”

“You took something of mine.” Asakura’s head tilts slowly to the side, semi-friendly grin still visibly. “I came to get it back.”

“I don’t have anything of yours.”

“Never said you did. I said you took it. Didn’t say I thought you had it.”

“That…you know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“None of this makes sense, Kido. We live in a world that revolves around a guy like you.” Asakura leans forward, one hand darting out to grab Shinji’s chin, ragged nails digging into his skin. In the dim light his eyes are flat and dark and predatory as their gazes lock, only taking on any gleam as he drinks in…something, whatever he’s getting from looking at Shinji like this. Shinji nearly asks, in fact, but he can’t quite speak, and anyway Asakura’s talking again, still as cheery and conversational as he has been. “Used to be, I got the deck in my hands and I’d remember all of it. That was the deal. Don’t know how the mirror guy finally bit it, but whatever happened, you’re the key to everything now.”

Shinji’s considering shouting for Ren, because even if he did have a dragon at his beck and call, the mirror is covered. Then, of course, he notices the crowbar. And Asakura continues to look at him, searching for something that Shinji is apparently giving him.

“Pathetic.” Abruptly, Asakura lets go again. “You used to be fun, Kido.” He stands, shouldering the crowbar like a baseball bat, and heads for the open bedroom door, only pausing briefly to say, “Call me if you ever decide to get the band back together, yeah?”

Shinji remains frozen for what seems like a long time after he’s gone, dizzy with memory and his heartbeat noisy in his own ears.

He doesn’t remember the end of things. None of the ends of things, actually, and he’s not sure if the others know that it happened more than once, how many times they were put through the same wringer. Whatever it was, though, whatever he or they finally did, it was permanent.

He never would have expected someone to resent him for it.

Finally he finds the focus to move, raising a hand to rub at the sore spots on his jaw before getting out of bed.

Miyuki’s bed is disturbed by unoccupied, and this fills him with a banked and indistinct dread until he comes to Ren’s room and finds them both there, Miyuki sprawled as inelegantly as always and snoring lightly at Ren’s side. Ren is awake, barely. “Bad dreams all around tonight, I guess,” he slurs as Shinji closes the door, and moves over to make space. “Wha’ was yours about?”

Shinji curls up beside him and says, softly, “Just ghosts.”

---

Takeshi strolls down the middle of the empty street, crowbar on his shoulder, in such a good mood now that he’s very nearly whistling. It’s a damp night; the streetlights make shadows in the fog that look like old friends he now remembers, any number of enormous beasts stalking him as he walks. Which makes him want to laugh, and so he laughs, and the sound bounces off the buildings and the fog in an echo that could go on forever.

“Goddamn,” he says to a fog-reflection that shifts and changes with every step he takes, now a vast snake, now a rhino, now a stingray. “That was a good time, wasn’t it.”

The fog makes no reply, but the shadow continues to follow him down the street as the echoes of his laughter die away, and after a moment, feeling almost jaunty, he starts to whistle.

#kido shinji #asakura takeshi #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

13 notes · View notes

dprwolfgang · 3 years

Text

Sin Ti // Angel Reyes ft. Dominic Lee Part 2

Angel Reyes x Solana Losa (OC)

Dominic Lee (OC) x Solana Losa

2.45k

This took a bit of a 360 turn.A lil angst, a lil drama and because I couldn’t stop typing once I started...there’s a part 3 to this but it’ll come out after Ez’s part drops. Angel is a bit of an asshole, Dominic is a bit smug and Solana is no longer the woman Angel thought she was or maybe she’d always been that way?

Enjoy! Feedback is welcomed and please reblog, like y’all don’t understand how much that means to creators on here.

Unedited.

Four months later

Angel stared at the ultrasound pictures laid out on his coffee table. It has been a total of seven months since everything blew up in his face and to say he wasn’t coping well was an understatement. Angel had reverted to his shallow fuck- anything- with- a -pulse self with everyone walking on eggshells around him. Even as he sat staring at the pictures, there was a woman in his bed fast asleep.

Angel had tried talking to Solana but she had Vega playing bodyguard and Angel knew better than to mess with Vega because even though she could handle herself, her big brother Rio was another story by himself. He had no idea when Solana had left Santo Padre but he knew that his heart had left right along with her.

This was the second set of ultrasound pictures he’d gotten and if he was being honest, they were the only thing giving him hope that Solana would come back to him.

Adelita had shown up out of the blue, caught him in a rather compromising position and then proceeded to tell him that the baby had died. He didn’t know whether to believe her or not because Potter had told him something completely different including the fact that her baby was a Reyes. Maybe Solana had lied to him but he could see past that and forgive her because she’d done the same for him numerous times.

If only she would just come home.

Solana smiled as she took in the scene before her, it had been a year and six months since she had left Santo Padre and quite honestly she didn’t feel like going back. Her uncle had told her that it was best for her to stay on the other side for a bit while things blew over but what was supposed to be five months had become more.

In that time she’d given birth to a healthy baby girl who she had named Cataleya Marísol Reyes. She had also met a man who made her feel love and happiness to an extent she didn’t think was possible. Sol had come to realize that while she had love for Angel, she was no longer in love with him. She had given so much of herself to Angel without the same effort being reciprocated that she didn’t know what to do with herself when she got a man who did.

Dominic Lee was the man Bishop had entrusted his niece’s safety to while she was on the other side. Their families had a long history and Bishop knew that if anyone would keep her and her baby safe it would be the Lee’s. The Lee’s were an immigrant family from China, how they ended up in Santo Padre, Bishop didn’t have a clue but Dominic’s grandfather was the first Asian man to be a part of the Santo Padre charter. His father, much like Ez, had a lot of book and street smarts. He had gotten into a school on the other side, started a successful business and would occasionally help the charters getting shipments in and out of Mexico.

Dominic had continued his father's legacy in both aspects of business and as much as Bishop respected and cared for Angel, he never liked the relationship that had bloomed between him and Sol. He had warned her on numerous occasions that even if Angel cared about her it would end in heartbreak. Seeing his niece happy was the only thing that mattered most to Bishop and if that meant encouraging Dominic to make a move on Solana…then maybe that's exactly what he did.

"So…you and Dominic? How'd that happen?" Vega questions as they both look on at Dominic, Ez and Rio playing with baby Leya who already had them all wrapped around her little fingers.

"Honestly V, I don't fucking know. It feels like it all happened so fast, like one minute he's showing me to the guest room and the next he's rearranging my insides cause my hormones were off the wall. He makes it easy…"

Vega gives her a look that says to elaborate what she was talking about because Vega had always thought that her best friend would forever be whipped for Ignacio.

"I never have to question whether he loves me because it shows in everything he does. I never have to ask him to make time for me, to take me out or to treat Leya the way he does but he does it anyways because that's the kind of person he is. I'm not saying he's perfect, neither am I but we're imperfectly perfect for each other, I don't know what it is but he just makes me feel whole." she smiles looking at the man who had managed to steal her heart in more ways than one over the past eleven months.

Vega smiles at the way her best friend glows and even though she's still hesitant on Dominic, she can tell that he makes Solana happy. She wasn't Angel's biggest fan but a part of her had hoped that maybe they could work things out if Angel would just get his shit together. She didn't send him all those pictures for nothing but Angel never got the clue and never came around asking for the information that she would've eventually given to him after pulling his leg a little bit first. Instead, the asshole had chosen to fuck his way through Vicky's girls and even had a run in with Adelita that Ez had briefly mentioned.

"What are you going to do about Angel? You know he's not going to be happy."

"Yo Stanford, we gotta go." Angel's voice sounds from outside the front door followed by a series of knocks.

"Speak of devil." Vega mumbles as she gets up to open the door.

Solana had moved to where Dominic and Rio were playing with Leya out of Angel's view. Ez went to grab his keys and kutte as Vega dealt with Angel. Solana wasn't ready to face him yet, she knew she'd have to sooner or later. She sees Angel's figure rush pass Vega and Ez before the bathroom door slams. Still tucked away in the corner of Vega's living room, she prays Angel just leaves as soon as he's done in the bathroom but those prayers fall on deaf ears as Leya screams out loudly just as he's walking by. Solana quickly takes her from Rio trying to calm her down but it's too late as Angel rounds the corner with Ez and Vega hot on his tail.

"What the fuck?" Angel looks around at everyone before him before settling on Ez. "So this what we doing now?"

"Angel, don't blow this out of proportion. They only got here today, nobody's hiding anything from your dumbass. If I find out you put your hands on my man the moment y'all leave from here, I won't hesitate to take my switch to your dick asshole. Now get out before Bishop calls." Vega speaks up trying to diffuse the situation.

Cataleya refused to stop screaming so Solana stands in an attempt to get her outside for some fresh air only for Angel to grab onto her upper arm. Rio sits back watching the shit storm unfold before him. Dominic is on his feet the moment Angel reaches for Sol and grabs onto her. He knew exactly who Angel was, they had never met personally but from everything Solana and Bishop had mentioned he had developed quite a dislike for the man.

"Suéltame Ignacio.”

“We need to talk.” Angel says pulling her closer to him.

“I know you heard her say to let go. I’d let go if I were you.” Dominic says stepping into their space. The edge in his voice told Sol that this wouldn’t end well for Angel if he kept pushing his boundaries.

“Who the fuck is this clown?” Angel questions looking around the room. Vega shakes her head because honestly, could he get anymore stupid?

It took a lot to piss Dominic off but when it came to the things or people he cared deeply for, it's like a switch flipped inside him. Angel grapping onto his woman and refusing to let go while she held on to their daughter was something he refused to sit by idly and watch. Cataleya may not have been his child biologically but she was his nonetheless and he'd protect her at all costs even if it meant from her own father.

"He's my fiancé." Sol grits out glaring at Angel who drops her hand like he's been burned. She hands Leya to Vega asking her to take her for a walk, both Ez and Rio following behind her. Dominic takes his previous seat because the look in Solana's eyes told him she could handle the situation and that he didn't need to intervene at the moment.

"What the hell is your problem?" she questions poking at Angel's chest.

"You're the one who left and then show up here a year and a half later with another man who's apparently raising MY child! You don't get to ask me what's wrong with me when something is clearly fucking wrong with you. I thought I knew you Sol but it's clear that I don't." Angel spits out at her.

"I gave you six months to get your shit together Ignacio, you didn't. I gave you all of me for fifteen years and you didn't give two fucks because you got comfortable. What, you thought that if you kept slanging me dick I'd stick around? Everything I said to you that night you decided you wanted to believe some woman you'd been fucking over me, I meant it. Everything I said to you that night in the hospital, I meant it. I still gave you six months hoping you'd take the fucking hint and come sort shit out but fucking your way through Vicky's girls was way more important than being there the night your daughter was born. So much more important that you signed away your rights as her father over a fucking phone call while you were deep in one of those bitches hungover and high out your fucking mind. You don't get to tell me something is wrong with me when you can't get your shit together Angel. You're the one who fucked us up, you made your decision and I made mine. I have love for you and I'll forever be thankful that you gave me that amazing baby girl but that's it Angel."

It hurt, Angel couldn't lie and say that it didn't. The look in her eyes told him a lot but also a little at the same time. She was no longer the woman he knew. He could no longer read her emotions but that one look in her eyes told him that she was permanently done with him. He didn't remember the phone call she was referring to but he wondered just how fucked up he was for fucking up not one but two of his kids lives. They'd never know him, he'd never get to watch them grow and it's simply because he was selfish and wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He had everything with Sol, he was happy and so was she even if they didn't have a label but shit changed when he met Adelita.

"I was under the influence, how the fuck does that count as me signing my rights away? I already lost one child, I'm not losing another. My child will not call that clown dad." he says pointing over to Dominic.

"You might be her father biologically but that's not what it says on paper and until you get your shit together, you won't be coming anywhere near my daughter." Dominic states smugly. He wasn't on her birth certificate yet but he knew that shit would knock Angel of his high horse a bit.

"The fuck are you even doing here? This doesn't concern you." Angel says pointing between him and Sol. "As far as I'm concerned,you're just a rebound fuck. Sooner or later she's gonna come right back where she belongs and I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your skull."

Dominic stands and walks over to the both of them. "And yet still…I'm the one who put a ring on her finger and the one your daughter's gonna call dad. I already won,thanks to you." he smirks before turning to Solana and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'll be outside, don't hesitate to break his nose if he gets out of line."

Angel waits for Dominic to exit the front door before he speaks. "Are you seriously going to marry him?"

"Si."

"Why querida? And don't tell me it's because you love him."

"Loving him is not the only reason why I agreed to marry him Angel."

"Then why?!" he shouts. "Did you even love me or was that all a lie just like you lied about Adelita's baby not being mine?" Once again Angel isn't expecting the slap that he collects as soon as he finishes his sentence.

"I'm a lot of things but a liar isn't one of them and you know it Ignacio. I get it, you're looking for someone to blame but I refuse to let you use me as your punching bag. Get your shit together before you lose everyone around you the way you did with me. Potter may have told you that Adelita's baby is a Reyes but that baby is not your Angel and it's not Ez's so don't even go there. Don't look at me like that either."

"Then which Reyes is it huh? My pops?"

"That's not my story to tell but what I'll say is, once the truth comes to light…you're gonna look back and regret this very moment. I guess love really does make you blind. Look what it did to me." she chuckles lightly. "you never loved me Angel, you loved the thought of me because I was easily accessible to you. That man out there," she points towards the front door walking closer to Angel leaning in close to his ear. "…he loves me unconditionally, always puts my daughter and I first. I never have to question where his loyalty lies and while we've had our unpretty moments…I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your skull the next time you threaten my husband." Solana pats his cheek and fixes his kutte before picking her baby bag up and walking to the front door where she stops and turns to look at him.

"Don't make me your enemy Ignacio."

#angel reyes #lewis tan #mayans mc #sin ti #dominic lee #angel reyes x oc #lewis tan x oc #solana losa #wolfgang writes #crossover masterlist

26 notes · View notes

sevsnapeposts · 3 years

Text

Snapetober Day 3: Pumpkin carving.

hello everyone. this took more than it should've, honestly, but here it is. i feel like a made a mistake somewhere on the translation but oh well. Sev POV btw. feel free to read it over in ao3 if you'd like, and also if you'd be kind enough, go give me some kudos over there. thanks, hope you enjoy~.

Day 3 - Pumpkin craving.

Severus had an incredible ability to carve pumpkins. Where it came from, he had no idea, but he was capable of making all kinds of faces and figures, from a classic malevolent pumpkin to minimal landscapes and human faces. The most impressive thing is that he did it without the use of a wand: Armed with a good knife and an occasional extra object, he carved the pumpkin in the most traditional way possible.

He knew of the existence of his gift since he was a child. He was 8, on the first Halloween for which his mother had gotten some money to decorate his room, in an attempt to give him some happiness. The woman had done this after they passed one of the most beautiful houses on the street, which had a lot of little lights and scary decorations, and she noticed the glint of longing in her little son's eyes.

So, Eileen had managed to get some pumpkins at the fruit stand a few blocks away. There were three of them, a bit ugly and old, as well as small, but that would be more than enough for her and her child.

Severus clearly remembered the expression of his mother, who had marveled when he, using the razor with great care, had perfectly copied the face of the largest pumpkin in that house. Eileen's face had lit up like never before, the usual melancholy and weariness of her fading completely. She had laughed, and hugged him, and she let him carve the other two pumpkins, keeping a close eye to avoid any accidents, even though Severus was more than capable of doing it without a hitch.

The little pumpkins didn’t make it to Halloween though, because three days later (and two days before that date), Tobias found them and smashed them in half, shouting in his drunkenness that in his house no one was going to celebrate those stupid festivities, nor have decorations, nor spend money or time on them.

Severus had cried himself to sleep.

When he met Lily, however, he again had the opportunity to demonstrate his art. Lily took all of the pumpkins to her house, and they all adorned the Evans' yard even after Halloween, only being removed when Christmas got close enough. She had been fascinated, and during her years at Hogwarts, when the time came, she would always get one or two for him to carve out some pretty ornaments and then take them to her bedroom. Even after the end of their friendship, as a kind of apology, tribute, or torture (he didn't know which of the three, honestly), Severus would make pumpkins with flowers and leave them lying around, never close enough to any of them.

After Lily's death, Severus hadn't carved one again.

At least until that day. October had just begun, and he was stuck in Malfoy Manor keeping Lucius company, who since the divorce complained that the mansion was "too big and empty." Severus thought he well deserved it, but he still appreciated him too much to refuse an explicit invitation to stay with him for that month, as a more than special guest.

Of course, Prue was there too. Severus couldn't understand how she had gotten through things so easily, how she was able to sit at the same table as the man who had caused her so much fear and so many nightmares; but if she was comfortable enough with him to agree to stay at his house, then he had no say in it.

In any case, Lucius hadn’t invited them just because he could: He also knew that this was the now young woman's favorite month, and therefore, he couldn’t give her a better gift than to let her spend all those dates without lifting a finger, with elves attending all her wishes and without any responsibility beyond taking one side or the other between the "very mature" arguments the two men had all the time.

Prue always sided with Severus, unless Lucius bribed her with chocolates.

Be that as it may, at the time, the trio were in the back garden of the mansion, where a heap of pumpkins of all sorts of sizes and shapes were being arranged by a couple of elves.

"Overdone as always", Severus said, sighing through his nose and rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. Lucius smiled at him, pleased as always to show off his ability to do whatever he pleased.

"I thought you might need a few to practice first", the blond replied.

"There are more than fifty", commented Prue, who was standing between them, holding hands with Severus.

Happens that, during breakfast, Lucius had brought up Severus' old custom with pumpkins. Prue proved she was very interested in it, as she had never imagined that he would have any artistic ability, and she had asked him to see some of his work. He was saying that it was not a big deal, and that he hadn’t touched a pumpkin for more than 19 years, and that there wasn’t even one there, when Lucius called his elves and sent them to buy "a few", declaring that he wouldn’t escape giving them a show and, incidentally, decorating the mansion.

Lucius was undoubtedly still fulfilling Prue's whims.

"Well, I suppose we can sit here whilst you slaughter a few vegetables”, purred the master of the manor. Just after he pronounced those words, one of the elves snapped its fingers, three chairs and two tall benches appearing near the trio. Lucius invited Prue to sit down while he handed Severus the "pumpkin killing tools," as the youngest of the three had called them. In return, he asked for his wand. “To avoid cheating. You always said it was manual”.

"And it is", Severus replied with annoyance, though he still held out his wand, which Lucius tucked into his coat. Then he went to sit in the chair next to Prue, who was watching them intently with those pretty eyes. Severus noticed that she was smiling slightly at him, and returned the gesture.

"I think an average pumpkin would be a good start", Lucius commented, crossing one leg over the other. Prue nodded, and the blond drew his own wand, pointing at a medium pumpkin, which floated up to the trio, hovering in the air in front of him. He used a simple incantation to empty the inside of the fruit, and Severus took it at last.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous, but he still got to work on it.

Half an hour later, the first pumpkin was ready. It had a normal face, not very elaborate, and it smiled wickedly. Lucius scored it with a "not bad at all," as he stared at the fruit, head laying on Prue's shoulder (who had only stiffened a bit). Then they both asked him to do another.

And so, by the end of the day, almost all of the pumpkins had been carved. Severus had done most of them, his designs the prettiest and most striking for obvious reasons. He had even made a special one for his two companions: For Lucius, a pumpkin with a snake that wrapped itself around it and finally looked straight ahead with its fangs poking out; and for Prue, a pumpkin-cat of Lucifer.

The rest had been done mainly by Prue, who was encouraged to try after the fifth one. She had just carved funny and cute faces, although one of the pumpkins had been hidden away from everyone and she didn’t let them see it. Lucius scoffed saying that she sure had fucked it up and she didn't want to be humiliated, to which Prue threw an unused pumpkin at his head, making Severus laugh.

The blond ended up using the one that had been thrown at him to carve it himself, although halfway there he got despaired and used his wand to finish it. Severus called him a sore, dirty cheater.

In any case, by the time they went to bed a long time later, after having dinner and entertaining Prue with ghost stories, the entire mansion was already illuminated with the dim light emerging from within the pumpkins. Severus was proud of his creations, and terribly flattered that something he had made was displayed like a trophy for all to see.

His feeling of happiness increased much more when, coming out of the bathroom after taking a shower, he found the sweet scene that was seeing Prue asleep in the bed they shared, covered up to her nose and with her beautiful face totally relaxed, as it was only when she had a day that she had fully enjoyed. Next to her, leaning against the pillow that belonged to the man, was the pumpkin that she hadn’t let anyone see. Severus took it delicately and turned it, finding a carving of a cauldron from which a heart was emerging. Looking between the openings, he noticed that there was a piece of parchment inside of it, which he pulled out with the help of his long fingers.

"Thank you for teaching me how to carve pumpkins. I made this with you in mind. I love you."

That night, for the first time in over 30 years, Severus Snape slept not only with decorations in his room, but with a smile that persisted until dawn.

#snapetober #snapedom #snapetober 2021 #severus snape #severus x oc #snape x oc #pro snape #lucius malfoy #oc #original character #harry potter original character #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic

6 notes · View notes

simpingforthisonedeer · 3 years

Link

Chapter 10: Storge I

SFW Version Here

Summary: There is some discussion of Kabbhalic lore in the beginning but this chapter and the next focuses mainly on the parental relationships Julius and Aika present. They certainly feel their age.

Notes:

- Ive split another massive chapter in half sighhhh. This is 5279 words and I’ve written 7.3k already but I still haven’t reached the ending I wanted so I just split it. 

- I know Yami and William haven’t made an appearance yet but they will. This chapter will shed some light on how Julius and Marx’s relationship and how proud he is that Marx grew up from an antsy young boy in his squad to a dependable young man by his side. -There’s like 2-3 sentences where its NSFW but besides that, nothing much sorry folks ajskjlk

Tagging: @thoughtfullyrainynightmare

Aika observed the dirty grimoire with one part apprehension and one part excitement. It was the first time she encountered a devil-possessed item without any supervision. A weg magic user that had come to Spade Nation War College as a guest speaker to her class had shown her how to recognize and deal with Devils. They were often best left alone in their sealed states whether they were friendly or not unless you wanted to make a pact. Though Aika’s curiosity was piqued, she had no interest in any other Devil except for one specific one, but he wasn’t heeding her calls or summons so she had lost any interest in becoming a host, especially considering the downsides.

There was no doubt there was a devil in there. She could feel the familiar mana from the Underworld. Aika cracked open the spine and stared in shock at the familiar writing. It was the same runic scripture from her own grimoire. She flipped through pages, skimming them. They all spoke of multiple different swords. Now, she had lightly studied grimoire magic over the years for fun because she found it fascinating how the countries in the Four Suits continent determined their borders purely based on the symbol on the grimoires. So she knew the basics such as checking the grimoire to see if anyone’s mana was connected to it and it wasn’t. This means that she could keep it and study it. If she took off her gloves, she could even make contact with the devil if she wanted to, but this was neither the time nor the place.

Aika looked up at her protégés as they stared warily at the book in her hand.

“What are your thoughts on this grimoire? What is so unusual and exciting about it?” She asked testingly. They needed to discern what it was from their own knowledge.

“Well, according to Clover Kingdom mythos,” Ellie began. “The three leaves symbolize hope, faith, and love. In the fourth leaf, a formation which occurred 500 years ago with the first Wizard King’s grimoire, contains luck. But according to legend,” she paused as she took a deep breath. “In the fifth leaf, there is a demon.”

“Do you think there is a demon in this grimoire?” Aika asked lightly.

Evan shivered before he answered, “There is definitely a devil in it. It reeks of the Underworld.”

She snapped the book shut and squinted at the anti-bird. Still strange how it was still here.

“Yes, you are right there is a devil in here,” she confirmed. They all tensed.

“What should we do? Should we kill it?” Jayce asked, his voice slightly shaking.

“No,” Aika shook her head and she crossed her legs again. “You don’t kill devils unless absolutely necessary.” She opened her backpack and stuck the grimoire carefully in it, willing it to be placed on top of her research table in her not-so-little study space in her loft.

“What?! Why?!”

“Because the very existence of devils obscures most of God’s Light and allows reality to exist. Killing them is counter-intuitive. You only kill them when they are unshackled and out in the human realm. This devil is very neatly sealed in this grimoire so no worries,” Aika explained as she smiled demurely. Their panic was quite amusing, especially when they are noticeably frustrated with her nonchalant attitude.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” Ellie asked carefully.

“Very.” She put the tea set away. “Now, if that is all, you may stand at ease.”

Their shoulders slackened and Ellie slinked over to her side and sat down next to her with a sigh.

“I can’t believe we are still brushing over the devil,” she murmured as she rested her head on Aika’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. When I have recovered, I will make sure the devil is safe before I take you guys to interact with it.” She carefully patted Ellie’s mass of white curls.

Evan sat in the armchair to her right as Jayce picked up a book from the stacks around them and flipped through it.

“I’m in no hurry to talk to a devil, ” he began as he absentmindedly traced the pages in the book. He snapped it shut with a wicked grin. “But I do want to know everything about you and the Wizard King.”

They all rolled their eyes at his theatrics. Aika shifted in her seat, quickly categorizing information that she was willing to share and details that were better left to herself. She found that this method was better than completely shutting herself out from people as per her first instinct.

“What exactly do you want to know about the Wizard King and I?” She asked as she wrapped her arm around Ellie. “There’s a lot to know.”

“Ooooooh,” Jayce plopped down in front of her like a kid at storytime and gave her his brightest smile. “How did you two meet? How did you get so close? ” He winked. Even Evan, who was usually understanding of Aika’s reluctance to share information, leaned forward as she braced herself to tell them the barest details at the very least.

She told them about her first encounter with him that night and the captain’s meeting and the assassination attempt at her home.

The three listened to her story and watched in great interest as Aika grew more and more animated, an easy smile gracing her face and a twinkle in her eye as she spoke of the Wizard King. It was fascinating to see their boss grow less and less reserved as time went by and what little time she had spent with the King had sped the process up. The more she smiled, the younger she seemed, happier, more carefree, and very undoubtedly in love.

Aika grew more somber when she talked of today. They knew of her condition and how it was dangerous to spend too much time around her. It was why they valued the time they spent with her so much. It saddened them to hear about how she had to reject him so many times when she wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“But if it truly doesn’t affect him…” Aika’s gaze fell to the side. “Then I may have a chance.”

At love. She left unsaid, but they knew. They knew her well.

“There’s always an exception,” Ellie whispered soberly. “And if his words are to be believed, then he may be it.”

They all stayed quietly for a moment, and as if to herald the end of the storytime, Evan, Ellie and Jayce’s stomachs growled in unison.

Aika was the first to laugh. A tinkling kind of sound like windchimes swaying in the summer wind. They quickly joined in after the momentary shock, a sort of happiness bubbling in their chests to see her smile so freely after all these years.

“I’ve made flat bread and curry for dinner. Would you two like so—”

“Yes!”

Aika chuckled and opened her backpack. Ellie dove headfirst without warning and Jayce soon followed. She carefully helped Evan step into it as the anti-bird perched on top of him again. As he disappeared into the void, Aika set her backpack down next to the sofa in an innocuous spot. Satisfied, she climbed in and closed the flap above her. Light brighter than the study flooded her vision. She kept her loft well-lit and tidy for the most part so she was fine having guests today. Aika heard a faint “wheeee” as Jayce slid down the pole to get to the bottom floor.

When you walk further into the living room that first greets you, there was a L-shaped railing that overlooked a spacious opening to the bottom floor. There was a break in the railing for a spiral staircase and a pole which Jayce had always loved to use.

The anti-bird she had allowed into her home flitted around, exploring the open kitchen to her right and the rooms in the hallway adjacent to the railing. Evan and Ellie were already setting up plates and utensils on the table in the dining area.

Aika walked past them with a tired smile and quickly heated up curry and bread with the firestone on hand and a touch of her Time magic. She placed them carefully on the table just as Jayce launched himself into his seat. It may be rather late in the night, but he was still full of boundless energy.

Ellie helped serve the food and Aika muttered a small prayer before they dug in.

“There was something off about the Wizard King, wasn’t there?” Ellie remarked innocuously. Aika looked at her curiously. She motioned her to elaborate as she spooned some curry.

“I stood where you two were, er, standing and the remnants of your mana felt like they were the same yet completely different.”

“Well, he doesn’t have a heartbeat, if that information means anything to you.”

“He’s not the undead. He certainly has a lot of mana,” Evan added.

“Is that why you are pursuing him while still keeping him at an arm’s length, Miss?” Jayce asked suddenly. They all looked at him in shock. He looked uncharacteristically serious. “You could never resist a mystery after all.”

Aika stared at him evenly and his gaze never wavered from hers. Anger initially shot through her at his words but she held her tongue. She couldn’t be mad at him for discerning part of the truth. She was known for her lack of patience but she had lately been trying to better herself and she asked for the three infront of her to help her in this. Ellie and Evan were patient with her when she lost her temper while Jayce was the only one with the courage to test her, keep her on her toes so she wouldn’t one day explode.

“That’s not completely true,” she finally answered. Julius’ smile replayed in her head and she felt a lot calmer, a little happy even.

“I do genuinely like him.” She looked down at her plate. Her breath stuttered when she remembered his laugh, his eyes, the way his soft hair threaded between her fingers. Aika couldn’t help the smile that crept up her face.

“I must admit, he is the only one that makes me laugh and smile like that.”

“And what are we for doing all that too? Chopped liver?” Jayce snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest childishly. She rolled her eyes at that.

“You guys make me smile in a way mother smiles when her children do stupid things,” she quickly retorted. “Or when they make her proud—”

“You think of us as your children?” Ellie interrupted breathlessly.

Aika gaped at her for a moment. She had accidentally let it slip hadn’t she? It’s been too long since she had to be so careful and alert and she was losing practice. And she was especially close with these three so her guard was completely down.

She hesitated before she answered, “Well, yes—” Ellie hugged her arm tight and Jayce was suddenly behind her, arms wrapped around her neck. Evan stayed put in his spot but his shoulders were hunched as he smiled shyly at the plate in front of him, a pleased blush high on his tanned cheek.

“We’re glad you think so.”

Aika stiffened at the sudden touch. Did they really want to be that close to her? Then it hit her. Of course they thought of her as a mother. They were orphans, she had rescued them from their various dangerous situations, taught them valuable lessons, protected them, gave them means to better themselves.

Oh.

She relaxed in their hold. She had more than one child, didn’t she? “I—” I love you guys. She wanted to say, but the words were lodged in her throat. She had a severe aversion to that particular sentiment. It saddened her that she couldn’t comfortably say the words she wanted to say.

Jayce slinked back into his seat and they continued eating.

“If he makes you happy in a way nobody else does,” Evan spoke first, changing the subject for her sake. “Be as careful as you want to be before you get together.”

Ellie hummed in agreement with him. “But you also have to make it clear that while you are keeping him at an arm’s length, that you still like him, or he would take your distance as disinterest.”

“We want you to be happy, but we just hope you just don’t get hurt like last time.” Aika smiled gratefully at all three of them. They were no longer children. They were wise beyond their years and people she could depend on.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely and cleared her throat with a blush as they giggled.

They thanked her for the food and helped wash the dishes before they all climbed out, ready to turn in for the night.

Ellie, Evan and Jayce wrapped Aika in a group hug, coaxing a joyful laugh out of her.

“Good night!” They exclaimed in unison before they shut the door to study behind them.

When they left, Aika grinned and buried her face in her hands. Her whole family died when she was just sixteen and she had wandered this plane of existence for decades, making friends along the way but they all had their own lives. She forcefully planted her feet in Clover Kingdom to protect it but along the way, she had found a family again. Her uncle, aunt, her daughter, whatever Arthur meant to her, Ellie, Evan and Jayce.

She felt an indescribable giddiness as she activated her Mana Hands spell to rearrange the stacks of books around her back into their places on the shelves. This was what she was looking for all these years. She didn’t even need Julius. This was all that she needed. –

Julius closed the door behind him and shifted the painting back into place so it was covered. He leaned his head against the canvas as he exhaled.

There was an unmistakable force pulling them towards each other every single time. First, that night, then the Captain’s meeting, that moment on the battlefield, then today again.

What in the world was wrong with him? Never in his life had he felt so lost. His whole life that he only ever needed magic and the power to do good in this world but what was this squeezing sensation in his chest?

“One month,” she said. One whole month. He thought about the way her eyes lit up at the Captain’s meeting, the palpable relief when she realized there were no hard feelings, the intent way she looked at him when she slipped off her blindfold.

Julius pressed his hand to his mouth as a blush suffused through his cheeks.

Oh, he was down bad.

He had always kept these sorts of interactions at an arms-length. One-offs were fine but what was so different about her? He just became Wizard King yet she consumed his thoughts. He was supposed to be thinking about the future of his kingdom not—

‘She held you like no other.’ His voice whispered in his head. ‘You have always protected others but you felt warmth and safety for the first time in the crook of her neck and her tight embrace.’ No one had ever dared to hug him and touch him like that. No one had ever kissed him so sweetly, and with that same mouth called him a “good boy” and made him see stars.

His hand clawed at the painting behind him as he pressed his legs together.

Julius let out a breathy laugh.

This was not the time.

He stared at the voluminous stack of papers on his new desk. His desk as Wizard King. He felt the crushing weight of that title again for the second time that day. He walked up to it, his fingers lightly tracing the edges as he stepped onto the side where he had rarely ever been.

He was here now, wasn’t he? He looked around the corner less office, cold and empty in every way. There was no fireplace, only torches that lined the walls.

Why was the room so big anyways? It should have a few couches at the very least to have comfortable conversations over tea instead of the vast barrier that the desk was sure to put up.

Julius turned around and faced the view he used to envy as a Captain. The giant, arched windows looked out over the Clover Kingdom from its highest peak. The sun had set hours ago but the bright, purple glow of the wisteria trees at the base of the tower was both exhilarating and calming.

He took a deep breath and faced his desk. He ought to finish at least one stack of papers. He filled up the fountain pen with ink and sat down heavily. Julius began with the paper on the top. It was a report from the Crimson Lion Kings.

Well, that piqued his curiosity.

He had always dealt with his own squad’s affairs and some collaborative missions with other squads but he didn’t know the specifics of the internal affairs in each squad.

The report wasn’t from Leonardo, it was in fact from his son and the new captain, Fuegoleon. From the lengthy conversation he had with the Vermillion during the banquet, he could tell that he was a hardworking, young man who was eager to do his job. He also inferred from their talk that he didn’t particularly care for anyone’s class or background unlike his father so he had high hopes for the Crimson Lions to set a good example for the rest of the squads. The most recent reports were all about how the battlefield was being cleaned up and about the dead. He genuinely focused on his work for half an hour before slowing down.

He was so tired. So much had happened today and the words in front of him began to look like scribbles. Perhaps he shouldn’t have exhausted himself so much…

A knock sounded on his door, jolting him from his thoughts.

Julius cleared his throat and asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Marx, Lord Julius,” he called out, a little surprised he was actually in there.

“Come in.”

Marx stepped into the room, eyes alert as he examined the big office. When his eyes landed on Julius, they softened, happy that he seemed to be working.

“Are you working, sir?” He asked as he moved closer.

“Yes, Marx.” He smiled lightly. “May I help you with something?”

“No, sir,” He shifted his new cloak. “I was just making sure you were working, sir, and offer my congratulations once again.”

Julius set his quill down as he sat up straighter.

“Thank you.”

“You’ve worked so hard to get here and I am so grateful you chose me of all people to be your advisor, sir.”

A smile grew on Julius’s face as he regarded the young man in front of him. He was only 20 years old and Julius had only known him for the last 5 but he had a special place in his heart. He may not be a superb fighter but Julius saw his value in other places. He took Marx into his squad for his brilliant memory magic, his work ethic, and his unique ability to be the only person who could stand up to him and keep him in line. And now, he couldn’t think of a better person to make sure he didn’t stray his path.

“Of course, Marx. I know you will be the one to make sure I do my job right,” He added with a laugh.

Outside of family, Marx was one of the handful of people who was truly close to him and could stand up to him. Even as a 15-year-old magic knight, whenever Marx would find him trying to sneak away, he never hesitated to berate his captain and made sure he worked. With time, Julius had come to see that he was also a hard worker and was one of the few people who could successfully curb his propensity to slack off. If it wasn’t for Marx, he would’ve neglected his paperwork all together.

Yet, there was one more person who began to worm his way into his heart.

“Though, I have to say, there is one more person who you may see often as you work whom you haven’t met yet.”

“Sir?”

“She is a private consultant who used to work for the previous Wizard King and she had offered to work for me as well,” Julius explained as he laced his hands together.

“She?”

He raised an eyebrow at that. That was an unexpected remark. “Yes, Marx. She’s a woman. I hope you don’t have any issues with that.”

He threw his hands up as he shook his head. “No, sir. That’s not the issue. I just never heard of any women in particular that could be a consultant for the Wizard King.”

Julius laughed, slightly relieved that Marx wasn’t that kind of a person.

“You wouldn’t know her. She likes her privacy and used to only work in the shadows,” he explained as he cast his eyes down.

Marx observed his melancholic demeanor. Why does speaking of her make him feel so down?

“What’s her name, sir?” Julius’s eyes flicked up. “Her name?” He steeled himself for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on. “It’s Aika Tolliver.”

His eyes immediately widened in recognition.

“M-Madam Tolliver?”

Julius cocked his head at him. Madam?

“Yes? Do you know her?”

“Yes, my older brother used to be the head of communications in her company.” His voice wavered as he clenched his fists. “He was recently promoted to president. But why would she be a consultant to the Wizard King?!”

Julius was taken aback by all that he had just told him. Marx spoke very rarely of his estranged brother, Karl, and he never knew that Aika knew him. And what exactly does he mean why she was a consultant to him?

“What do you mean by that, Marx?”

“Sir, she has a bad reputation for using forbidden magic,” He whispered urgently.

Julius stared at him blankly.

“Yes, I knew that.”

“Y-you did?”

“Yes. A Wizard King sometimes needs a licensed forbidden-magic user to deal with some unsavory things. She is also an amazing strategist and has experience in warfare for reasons I am still unaware. ” He added quietly as he picked at his quill. “We’ve talked for hours about a lot of things.” A lot of things indeed. “And I know she will be crucial in the future.”

Marx was about to object again but quieted at the stern look Julius gave him. He sighed as he clenched his fists by his sides, his light blue hair tickling his cheeks as he bowed his head in acquiescence.

“I will try to keep an open mind, sir.”

“Thank you, Marx.” He looked down at the papers, his smile falling. “I will see if I could introduce you tomorrow. I’m assuming you haven’t met her properly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then that’s settled.”

He stood there quietly as he watched Julius sign a paper with a flourish. Marx knew the man a lot better than most people and he knew that Julius would be ecstatic that he was finally the Wizard King and maybe even goof off a bit but right now, he was much too somber.

“Sir, are you alright?”

Julius looked up, surprised he was still here. He was far too lost in his thoughts. He opened his mouth and stopped. Marx didn’t need to know about Aika. He rubbed the back of his head as he forced his best natural laugh.

“Yeah, of course I’m fine, Marx! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you would usually be more excited on finally achieving your ambitions and…you wouldn’t be working…”

…He’s right.

“Well, I have simply realized the weight of my new title and I suppose that is what is making me more serious.” That technically wasn’t a lie. Julius mentally patted himself on the back for that.

Marx grinned, a giddy sort of feeling washing over him.

“Does this mean you will finally be serious about your paperwork, sir?!”

That was not what he meant.

“Wait, no!” Marx’s expression fell. “I mean yes! Of course I will do my paperwork!” His advisor’s face could not look any more disappointed. He quickly needed to change the subject before he got lectured again. “Speaking of paperwork, I think I will feel motivated to do it if I’m in a better setting like a study, you know? There’s a Wizard King’s study and it’s desk is longer and faces the windows so I would have an amazing view to keep me energized. And I would also be surrounded by a lot of books and I would feel so studious and motivated!”

That seemed to have caught Marx’s attention. He had never heard of study. “I would like to show it to you tomorrow and we could both explore it. Does that sound good?”

“But sir, you have to tour the squad bases and then you have to hold your first meeting with all the Captains—”

“We will explore the study after that, okay?”

“But then, there’s a lot of paperwork that—”

“Marx,” Julius addressed him patiently as he held his gaze. “Taking breaks is important, you know?”

“And all you want to take are breaks, sir,” Marx replied with an imperceptible roll of his eyes.

Julius laughed.

“I promise I will be productive!” – Aika threw her crimson cloak on, a cloak she had worn since her days with Mereoleona. She quickly examined her trousers for any odd wrinkles and stacked the needed papers for a meeting she had in 20 minutes.

She felt much, much better after speaking to Ellie, Evan and Jayce and Julius seemed like the type to be more casual about such things and not let them get in the way of work. She was rather worried it might because her Uncle told her that Julius gets distracted easily. She couldn’t meet up with him and talk today because she would be occupied, especially since she accepted Lord Silva’s invitation for tea.

Aika reached for her communicator to call for Ellie, but she tensed and quickly pointed her daggers at the person who teleported into the study.

“Mom!”

Her shoulders slackened and a tired smile softened her face as she dropped to crouch. Aika enveloped Holly in a tight hug as she giggled. She loved how her daughter smelled like roses and apples, though they smell the same. She pulled back and pressed light kisses on her cheeks and smiled indulgently.

“Hello, Holly. You are here to spend time at the CLK base right?”

“Yeah! Uncle Fueggy said I could play with the lions and I thought I should congratulate him for becoming captain too! I made biscuits and wore my crimson cloak.” She spun on her heel, showing it off.

“That’s really nice of you dear.” Holly led her mother to the sofas and motioned her to sit down. “Did you make any for me?” She murmured, amused as Holly climbed into her lap and made her wrap her arms around her tiny frame.

“I hoped to give you the leftovers if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine but what if there are no leftovers,” Aika asked, fake hurt lacing her voice.

“I have a plan to make sure there’s leftovers. Don’t worry, Mom,” Holly grinned and sighed contentedly into her mother’s chest. Aika looked down at her curiously, gently rubbing her hair.

“May I know what the plan is?”

“You really want to know?”

Aika let out a short laugh. Only her children could ever sass her like this and get away with it and she must admit, it was very refreshing.

“Yes, I really want to know.”

“Okay, so if Uncle Fueggy didn’t like them too much, you will have some left over. Obviously. But if he liked them and wanted to keep them, and give them to his squad or something, I’ll be like ‘I was going to save some for my mom, but oh well. I’m glad you liked them.’ And then he would feel really guilty and leave some anyways,” she finished with a proud smile.

Aika pursed her lips, tamping down the laughter bubbling in her chest. Holly caught this and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Is something wrong, Mom?”

“No…” She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Have you simply thought of maybe just giving me one biscuit to taste or maybe simply telling Fuegoleon to save some for me?”

“What.”

“Yes, I mean it doesn’t have to be that convoluted because Fuegoleon is polite and wouldn’t say no to that and even simpler, giving me one biscuit now would be the simplest solution,” she explained with a laugh.

“Oh.” Holly buried her face in the crook of her neck in embarrassment. “You’re right.”

Aika laughed quietly as she rubbed Holly’s back. No one could make her feel as young and light as her daughter could and she absolutely loved her for it.

Holly peeked at the window between her mother’s arms to check the time. The moment she saw or felt the sun, she could instantly tell what the time was. But she let her jaw fall slightly when she saw an anti-bird perched on the lap. She had never seen one so close.

“Mom, is that a…” She pointed at the bird. Aika followed her gaze and found that the little bird from last night still here.

“Yes, that’s an anti-bird, but it also seems to be an anomaly.”

“Oh, you mean it doesn’t run away from us like other anti-birds?”

“I mean that bird is still avoiding me but seems perfectly fine with others.”

“Isn’t this a perfect opportunity to study how an anti-bird reacts to magic then?”

“What? No! It’s an anomaly so it doesn’t behave like other birds so it’s useless to study it, Holly”

“What about studying the anti-bird for its biology through the possession technique?”

The possession technique is a forbidden magic spell used in the study of animals to possess them and view how the world was from their perspective including the five senses and what instincts activate in any given situation etc. Possession magic only works on other species so a human cannot possess another human unless an attribute explicitly allows that.

People have tried to use a possession spell on an anti-bird before but like the North and South repel each other, anti-birds have shown to dodge magic at abnormal speeds when magic was thrown at them even in containment. The ongoing theory was that anti-birds actually feel some measure of pain, most probably a lot, the presence of or when in contact with magic.

“An anti-bird’s biology was already studied by people with less magic and it’s no different than a normal bird’s. You don’t have to worry about it—”

The door leading from the Wizard King’s office clicked open. Aika paused as her heart skipped a few beats when she glimpsed the blond hair before the door revealed to the Wizard King in all his glory. She could never get used to that strange yet commanding-looking cloak he wore.

Julius met her gaze and they were lost for words for a few moments. Last night seemed like a fever dream compared to the clarity brought by the daylight. His eyes flickered down to Holly who broke the silence. “Good Morning, Julius!”

Notes: Holly actually plays a bigger role than intended👀👀

#demons run #julius novachrono #marx francois #oc: aika tolliver #julius x reader #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono x oc #demons run chapter 10

31 notes · View notes

floral-and-fine · 4 years

Text

La Doular Exquise

Greg Lestrade x female reader

Mycroft Holmes x female reader (but one sided)

A/n: Suddenly had this idea even though I haven’t written anything for Sherlock before, but since I’ve been spending so much time at home, I’ve been re-watching a lot of shows! Anyways, I really like the direction this story ended up going, I may write a part 2 :) (Also think it’s been a long time since I’ve played Charades so sorry in advance)

Thank you @luna-xial for the help with the title!

Summary: Greg Lestrade is in a new relationship with y/n, and to everyone, they appear very happy together and very much in love. Surprisingly, Mycroft finds himself longing for something similar.

“What’s wrong with Lestrade?” Sherlock questioned, staring at the inspector instead of scrutinizing the crime scene for clues.

“What do you mean what’s wrong with him?” John asked looking up from the dead body.

“He’s happy, very happy…” Sherlock muttered, narrowing his eyes. Slowly, he stood from his crouched position, no longer interested in the case.

“And that’s a problem?” John questioned in disbelief, he didn’t quite understand what Sherlock was getting at. “Also, shouldn’t we be focusing on what happened here?”

“Already figured it out,” Sherlock stated, stepping over the body, trying to get closer to Lestrade. “Isn’t it obvious?”

John looked at the scene before him, dead body on the ground dressed in a mascot costume, the man had somehow managed to drown despite not being anywhere near water and his costume was still completely dry.

“No it’s not,” he said, throwing his arms up in frustration.

For a few brief seconds, Sherlock observed Lestrade closely, before a smirk formed on his lips. “Aha!” He laughed triumphantly. “Gordon’s been dating someone… a woman… considerably younger as well.”

John shook his head, “how can you tell?”

“Well, for one the dramatic change in attitude, plus telling by his clothes and hair he’s taken a new interest in his appearance, typical of those in a budding relationship.”

“And how do you know she’s younger?” John pressed.

“See how he keeps checking his phone,” Sherlock pointed out. “He’s using a messaging app used by young adults, rather than middle-aged men.”

“So?”

“So,” Sherlock elaborated, with an eye roll, “he smiles like an idiot every time he gets a new message, hence, that's how he and his new girlfriend are communicating.”

John watched as Lestrade checked his phone again, pulling it out from his jacket pocket when he assumed no one was looking. He really did smile like an idiot, grinning from ear to ear as he quickly typed his reply.

“Good for him,” he said sincerely, John knew how difficult it could be trying to date, especially with a job like his. He deserved to be happy, especially after that nasty divorce he went through.

Tucking his phone back into his jacket, Greg noticed the pair watching him.

“Any ideas as to what happened here?” He asked, approaching them.

“Yes,” Sherlock said spiritlessly. “But it’s rather boring and dull, I’d rather talk about the woman you’re seeing.”

“Oh, you already noticed that?” Greg rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “We’ve only been out a few times, we’re not exactly official yet.”

“Are you concerned about the age difference?” Sherlock interrogated, not caring how rude it sounded.

“Sherlock,” John muttered trying to urge his friend to shut up.

Greg just laughed lightly and shrugged, “honestly, I thought I would be, but I’m not.” Another big grin appeared on his face just at the thought of her. “I’m quite surprised by it all.”

“Well, why don’t you bring her for Christmas, so we can properly meet her?” John suddenly suggested.

Sherlock groaned loudly, he had forgotten all about the holidays, completely forgetting that his parents would be visiting. . . .

Mycroft stood outside of his brother’s flat, enjoying a quick smoke, before joining in on the festivities. He could barely keep himself from rolling his eyes, if it weren’t for the fact his parents were expecting him, he wouldn’t have bothered to come at all.

He sighed, knowing that he couldn’t postpone this much longer. Eventually, his mother would track him down and he’d be scolded like a child for making everyone wait.

Just as he was about to put out his cigarette, a taxi pulled up to the curb, and a woman, who Mycroft didn’t recognize, stepped out of the vehicle.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, he knew everyone, and he literally meant everyone, his little brother was acquainted with. Rapidly, Mycroft assessed the stranger, she appeared relatively harmless, worked as a daycare worker or teacher perhaps. She dressed quite nicely and sensibly for the weather. Telling by the hair stuck to her jumper, she either had a cat or dog at home.

“Merry Christmas!” She greeted, waving at him cheerfully.

Mycroft nodded his head in acknowledgment, saying Merry Christmas back in rather bleak fashion. His eyes darted back towards the taxi as another person got out.

“Merry Christmas!” Inspector Lestrade waved.

The couple approached him, and Lestrade made quick introductions, “Mycroft, this is y/n.”

She extended her hand out, “Nice to meet, Mycroft.”

Mycroft took in several more details, before finally accepting her hand, like the shade of her nail polish to the choice of her shoes.

“Heard you’re smarter than your brother,” she complimented. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“I suppose,” Mycroft commented dryly.

“Well, we better go say hello to everyone else,” Lestrade said, nodding at Mycroft before taking y/n by the hand and leading her towards the door. The poor fool was smiling so big that it made him look completely mad.

“Aren’t you coming?” Y/n called out to Mycroft, her eyes filled with excitement before Lestrade knocked on the door.

“I’ll be up in a moment,” Mycroft said, taking out another cigarette and lighting it. . . .

As Mycroft entered the flat he noted that Mrs. Hudson and his parents were in the kitchen chatting away and preparing food. Molly sat watching Sherlock play violin awestruck. John and his date stood close by whispering to each other. And then there was y/n and Lestrade standing by the fireplace completely in their own world.

After saying a quick Merry Christmas to his parents, Mycroft sat alone on the couch. He wasn’t planning on staying long, just long enough that his mother wouldn’t complain about him leaving so early.

From the other side of the room, Lestrade groaned as his phone started ringing, giving his date a quick kiss, he excused himself taking the call in the hallway.

Y/n stood by the fireplace, her nails anxiously tapping against the side of her glass. Her eyes scanned the room until she spotted Mycroft sitting alone on the couch. “Mind if I join you?”

Mycroft nodded, scooting over a bit. He sat with his legs crossed, elbow resting on the arm of the couch with an umbrella in hand.

“Not planning on staying long?” She joked, gesturing to the umbrella.

Mycroft half smiled, “Just prepared to leave early, should things go awry.”

Y/n chuckled and continued to sip on her drink. They sat next to one another, in comfortable silence, while she patiently waited for Greg to return.

“Your brother plays very well,” she whispered, watching Sherlock who seemed like he was elsewhere mentally.

Mycroft was about to respond until he was suddenly interrupted.

“Sorry, love,” Greg said, abruptly re-entering the room walking towards y/n. “That was work, afraid I have to go in.”

“That’s alright,” she reassured him, standing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. “It can’t be helped.”

With that she pressed her lips against his, Lestrade was quick to return the kiss, placing his hands on her waist.

Mycroft found himself looking the other way, uncharacteristically bothered by the display of affection taking place before him.

“I’ll call you tonight,” Greg murmured quietly, before he reluctantly pulled away from her, and grabbed his coat. “Merry Christmas, everyone!” He shouted as he rushed out the door.

Y/n clasped her hands together, looking around the room, “Well, I suppose I should go too.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” Mrs. Hudson tutted, waltzing into the living area carrying a tray with tea. “At least stay long enough to have something to eat.”

“Guess I could keep Mycroft company awhile longer,” she smiled, taking her seat back on the couch next to him. “If that’s alright with you?” She asked him.

“Be my guest.”

The rest of the evening progressed full of merriment, food, drinking, and Christmas carols.

At some point, Mrs. Holmes started sharing stories about Mycroft and Sherlock from when they were children. Which everyone found quite amusing with the exception of her sons, who shared an unamused look as she continued to describe the time she found them covered in some type of slime after a failed experiment.

Mycroft risked a quick glance at y/n who was hiding her laughter behind her hand. Watching her react so lively made him smile to himself, not that it lasted long. As soon as he noticed, he returned to grimacing as his mother started another story, this one was about when. Sherlock had borrowed his clothes and pretended to be his big brother for a whole week. . . .

“Why don’t we play a game,” John’s date suggested.

After some debate, the group finally settled on playing Charades. Somehow Mycroft had been roped into being y/n’s partner. Although She seemed rather pleased by it.

“Merry go round!” Sherlock shouted, staring at Molly, and becoming more irate by the second. “Ferris wheel! Clock!”

“Times up!” John announced, sounding rather pleased.

“Well, what was it?” Sherlock demanded.

“The solar system,” Molly muttered quietly, handing him the card.

Sherlock scoffed, “Who needs to know anything about the solar system! This game is ridiculous! Utter waste of time!”

“Stop being such a rotten sport!” His mother reprimanded from the kitchen, where she was helping Mrs. Hudson tidy up.

“Well, Mycroft and y/n it’s your turn,” John said, holding out the cards to y/n.

Mycroft watched her movements intently, “a book, two words…” he furrowed his brow slightly as he watched y/n imitate the action of stabbing or perhaps using a spear? Then a subtle smile appeared on his face. “Moby Dick.”

Y/n bounced up and down clapping excitedly, “you got it!”

Mycroft chuckled, feeling rather pleased with himself, and for a brief moment, he had forgotten that you weren’t with him. That y/n wasn’t in fact his date. He had been having such a good time that it had seemed to have slipped his mind.

His smile faltered, feeling rather odd about whatever he was feeling, but he hid it well, especially as she showered him with praise.

As John and his date took their turns, the game seemed to fade into the background. In his own head, Mycroft was having a rather difficult time trying to process what he was feeling.

He didn’t understand at all what he found so agreeable about her, why her company didn’t aggravate him. Typically, he became at least moderately annoyed being around anyone for such a long period of time.

Y/n gently placed her hand on Mycroft knee, “are you alright?”

Mycroft quirked an eyebrow in response, caught off guard that she noticed a change in his behavior.

“You’re just somehow quieter,” she explained, tilting her head.

“It’s nothing,” Mycroft replied with a small smile. Even despite all the confusion he felt, he managed to enjoy the rest of his time with y/n.

Finally, the night was coming to an end. Being the gentleman that he was, he stood outside with y/n as she waited for a cab.

“I had lots of fun tonight,” she shared suddenly. “Thank you for including me.”

“Of course,” he nodded, once again smiling all of a sudden.

Soon the taxi approached, and Mycroft got the door for her. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut, he wanted her to stay just a little longer, or he wanted to join her on her ride home. However, neither option was appropriate.

“Good night, Mycroft,” she said, as she climbed into the backseat.“And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, y/n.”

...

Walking into his large home, Mycroft removed his coat hanging it up on the rack and placed his umbrella by the door.

He didn’t understand why this bothered him so much. Mycroft had encountered plenty of other happy couples before, but none of them had ever left him with this feeling of jealousy and loneliness.

As much as he tried to deny it, he knew deep down he envied Lestrade, which for Mycroft, was a hard pill to swallow. Before y/n, he practically pitied the detective. But now the inspector had something that Mycroft wanted.

What was so bewildering about it, was that he had never wanted something like that before. He never cared for or wanted any type of companionship or relationship. It seemed so frivolous,

But now his mind wandered to the what if’s, such as, what would it be like to not come home alone.

Despite his better judgment, Mycroft gave into his imagination. The downside of having a mind like his is that was how he could picture things so clearly in his head.

He could practically see her now, slightly tipsy, clinging to his arm with one hand for stability as she removes her shoes. Then, he would hear the soft pitter-patter of her bare feet as she made her way to the bedroom.

Mycroft started to loosen his tie as he walked towards his room.

As he would enter, he would find her jumper and leggings strewn about on the floor. But instead of making it an issue now, he’d ask her to pick them up in the morning.

Mycroft headed towards his closet, undressing and putting on his pajamas.

As he would step back into the room, y/n would pop her head through the door of the master bathroom, with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She’d smile widely at him before finishing. “Almost done!” She would call out to him.

Mycroft turned out the light and climbed into bed. Despite having such a large bed to himself, he always slept on one side, never really spreading out.

He pictured what it would be like for y/n to join him in bed. She’d gently kiss him good night, before resting her head against his chest. He imagined what it would be like to hold her, feel the warmth radiating off her form, to caress her back in a soothing manner until she fell asleep.

Mycroft groaned loudly, rolling over and burying his face against his pillow. There was no point in indulging himself with these fantasies any longer. No matter how clearly he could picture it, this alternate life, there was nothing he could do to change his reality. She simply wasn’t his.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #mycroft holmes #mycroft x reader #lestrade x reader #greg lestrade #mycroft fanfic #lestrade fanfic #reader insert #Female reader #bbc sherlock fanfic #mycroft holmes x reader #greg lestrade x reader

193 notes · View notes

yuta-nakamots · 4 years

Text

Groove - k.ji

Pairing - Idol!Jongin x Choreographer!Reader

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - None

Summary - You are a choreographer chosen to work with Jongin for his upcoming solo album. He’s an idol and you’re not, it’s as simple as that until you find yourselves dancing between the lines of business and something more intimate.

Word Count - 6k

A/N - This is the reworked version of ‘a dance to remember’ which I wrote when I was about 15 years old. That piece itself is based on a dream I had about EXO. This essentially is a fic written about a fic written about a dream so I’m sorry if it seems kinda disjointed.

When you were younger, you had discovered that you had an immense passion for dance and you had begged your parents to let you join the small dance studio near your school. Even if it was just an average dance school it wasn’t uncommon for the bigger entertainment companies to recruit backup dancers or choreographers from studios like yours, which is how you had met a handful of idols before. Each month, you had to go in and perform a short piece that you created in order to keep track of your progress. Normally, the room these progress videos were shot in are empty aside from you, the company director, and a couple of cameras set up to catch multiple angles.

However, this time around, there was a man standing next to your director. As you entered, you quickly greeted and bowed to your director and did the same to the guest. He was wearing a chocolate brown hoodie and light blue jeans along with a pair of rounded glasses and a face mask. He was quite tall and looked almost intimidating until you met his eyes that were warm and inviting but awfully familiar. Not wanting to be weird, you quickly turned around and made your way to the stereo equipment to plug in your phone and start the music. You finish your recording quickly and respectfully thank your director before leaving the studio to head home, your thoughts still preoccupied with the stranger who you were confident you had met somewhere before.

A week later, you received an email from the director: Good evening Y/n, From your video we recorded earlier this week, you’ve been recruited to work with EXO member Kai as a choreographer for his upcoming solo album. Congratulations on this achievement! We are looking forward to what you will create this time around. I will give you more details on this after your regularly scheduled class today.

The warm brown eyes that were all too familiar flashed inside your mind as you thought about all of his performances that you had watched before, wanting to learn from him and his style. The eyes of the stranger that had stood next to your director the day you recorded your video. No, it couldn’t have been him, you thought to yourself, there’s no way an idol would come to our dance studio. You shook your head to break yourself out of your imagination as you got ready to head over to the studio and teach your class.

You were going through your text message as you entered the room your class was in and walked right into your director. You immediately back up and profusely apologize, freezing once you recognize the person he was previously talking to. “Oh, y/n, this is Kai from EXO! I was just telling him how he should stay to watch you teach this class so he can get a taste of what your style is like.”

Kai looked from your director to you, offering you one of his signature smiles that have been known to melt hearts. “I’d love to” was all he had to say to make your stomach drop to the floor and your hands start sweating.

As you taught your class, you felt an intense stare on you the entire time, glancing over at Kai only a few times, finding him looking right back at you, causing you to suddenly jerk your head away only to hear Kai let out a quiet giggle from the corner he was sitting in. Eventually, you learn to ignore his presence and you continue teaching your class and wrapping up as you normally would. As your students begin filing out the door, Kai eagerly gets up and strides over to you. “Hey, y/n, I really liked the energy of that class and the genre of the piece you taught, I’m looking forward to working with you!” he said, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at you, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to get your number so we can talk more about the album” and he offered you his phone, already open to a blank contact page.

You quickly wipe your hands on your shirt before grabbing his phone, entering your number and handing it back to him with a shy “thank you, I look forward to working with you too”.

Later that night, you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown > y/n 10:15pm: hi y/n, this is Jongin! ^^

You type a simple greeting back to him as you add him to your contact list and slip into bed. He immediately responds and starts asking questions about you, which you brushed off as him just being friendly. Your conversation continues for another half hour, consisting of mostly him asking about you and your interests accompanied by various cute emoticons until you finally grow tired of it.

y/n > EXO Kai 10:49pm: Why do you keep asking about me? What if I want to hear more about you?

EXO Kai > y/n 10:51pm: because I want to get to know you better （⌒_⌒）

10:51pm: I like to have a connection with the people I’m working with. even more so now, since this solo album is something new and special to me

10:52pm: besides, you can hear about me all the time from the fansites and media

His response makes you pause and set your phone down for a bit as you realize that there’s more depth to Kai and his personality than you thought. Wow, not only is he an amazing performer, he has a kind heart and values his relationships, even if they’re only for work purposes. You were shocked, to say the least. From your experience working with idols, yes, you did get to know each other but they didn’t ask you about your hobbies or favorite foods like how Kai did. This just added to your list of reasons why this man is out of your league. No, he is not out of my league. We are not even in the same sport. He is an idol, he will not date you, stop it, you thought as you reprimanded yourself. However, you picked up your phone to message him back and continue your conversation, even though you dozed off not even five minutes later, failing to see the new texts you received from Kai.

EXO Kai > y/n 11:03pm: y/nnnnnn

11:03pm: where did you gooooo >.<

11:04pm: ah, you must have fallen asleep

11:04pm: rest well y/n, goodnight (￣ε￣)

The rest of your week passes by uneventfully with you going to university and teaching your classes as usual. The only new addition to your schedule was a sort of ‘date’ with Kai on Thursday afternoon, your free day during the week, and also the day you were scheduled to meet with the other staff working on his album to get a sense of what kind of image they wanted. He had texted you asking if he could treat you to lunch at the SM Cafe after your meeting which you agreed to.

By the time Thursday comes around, you’re already feeling worn out from school, barely even able to put together an outfit and settling for a simple black t-shirt and jeans. You took the bus to the company building since you didn’t know where to park and you figured it would save gas anyways. The meeting was a nice refresher, as you were interested in the ideas the staff was putting out and you left the meeting feeling reenergized with tons of ideas flying through your head. You met Kai at the cafe as you had promised, finding him easily due to his large frame. “You look nice, y/n” he commented, as you sat down opposite to him. You said a shy ‘thank you’ back while turning and looking out the window, hoping he didn’t notice the blush that had begun to show up on your cheeks.

Lunch goes smoothly as he allows you to ask him questions this time around and he tells you about his hobby of playing with legos and putting elaborate things together to give to his nieces and nephews or how he has given up learning how to bake. You don’t miss the way his hands brush yours when you pass him a napkin after some of the coffee he was drinking spills out the side of this mouth or when both of you reach for your phone before it falls off the table. Maybe it’s because of all the times you’ve daydreamed about him after learning one of the dances he’s done, but to you, this ‘casual lunch’ is beginning to feel more and more like a date. Luckily, you two finish eating quickly and he asks if you’d be willing to show him some of the ideas you have so far. You eagerly told him yes along with a few details from the meeting and how you’re really excited to further refine them.

Once both of you are in a practice room upstairs, you and Kai decide to sit in the middle of the room and talk about possible concepts and stories that could be portrayed, however, the conversation quickly strays off-topic due to Kai and his seemingly never-ending curiosity when it comes to you. “What do you do besides dancing and teaching your own classes?” he asks, looking more like a troublesome toddler than the idol you were supposed to be working with.

You push that thought aside before responding, “I’m currently in university, majoring in business since I’m set to take over the dance school from the director.”

Kai keeps his eyes glued to you while you speak, the only movement coming from his fidgeting hands. After you finish speaking, he looks down in his lap before shyly speaking, “sometimes I like to think about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t an idol, you know? Would I have joined a dance studio like yours? Would I be in college right now? Would I have a girlfriend? Would I maybe even have a child?” He paused for a bit and ran a hand through his hair while moving to lie down. “I genuinely think that if I weren’t an idol, I’d still be in school. Being with animals and kids gives me so much joy, I’ve often thought about being a veterinarian or an elementary school teacher. Though they are drastically different, I find both of them to be so appealing” he said, letting out a sigh at the end of his sentence.

“Do you ever think that you’d be happier doing those things rather than where you are now?”

Kai looked over at you, not noticing you had laid down next to him as if both of you were outside looking at clouds. “Maybe...however, I’m still satisfied with the path my life took. Yes, there are drawbacks to being a public figure but I’m happy with all the experiences it has given me.” Sensing how the mood has become a little too serious for his liking, Kai decides to ask you another question. “Who’s your favorite member in my group?”

You let out a laugh, dumbfounded by his sudden question. “I’m not saying this just because you’re here, but it’s you and has been for a while now” you said sheepishly, keeping your eyes locked on the ceiling to keep yourself from looking at Kai and showing him your now pink-tinted cheeks.

“For a while now?” he asked, quoting your words. “How long have you been a fan of us?”

“Since your debut,” you said, throwing your hands on your face to hide your embarrassment before exclaiming, “ah, this is so awkward, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” Fortunately, your embarrassment didn’t last long thanks to your roommate who had just sent you a text. You gladly moved away from Kai to check your phone, inwardly thanking your roommate for saving you from what could have become a shameful memory. Oh shit it’s already past 10? you thought to yourself, shocked at how quickly time passed while you were with Kai. “My roommate was just asking where I was since it’s getting kinda late,” you told him, “normally I don’t stay out this late since I have class tomorrow morning so I should probably get going now, especially since I have to catch the last bus which comes in a bit, I think.”

You stood up, but before you could so much as take a step towards the door, Kai stopped you. “I can drive you home” he offered, to which you vehemently refused, “you’re my choreographer and I’d hate for anything to happen to you when you haven’t even taught me the dance to my own song yet” he said, giving you the puppy eyes you’ve seen countless times through videos of him.

You can tell that he’s being sincere so eventually you accept his offer, but something about his words doesn’t sit quite right. You had told each other so much about yourselves and shown such an embarrassing side of yourself to him, yet he only regarded you as his choreographer. Because that’s what I am, you thought, trying to shove those thoughts out of your head, I’m nothing more than just his choreographer, a work acquaintance. This is simply a relationship based on our work together. He is an idol and I am his choreographer. Nothing more, nothing less. You internally slapped yourself for getting riled up over his words when he was only trying to be nice.

Once you were in his car, you told him your address as you put your seatbelt on. The ride home is mostly silent aside from little side comments made between the two of you, like when he tells you about how he and the members once went to the samgyeopsal restaurant you passed earlier and how Chanyeol proceeded to get absolutely wasted to the point where the members played rock paper scissors to decide who would be taking care of him for the night.

Time, again, seemed to pass a little faster than normal when you were talking to Kai and laughing with him. When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, you unbuckle your seatbelt and began to thank him, “Kai-”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Calling you what?”

“Kai.”

“...Because it’s your name?” At this point, you were beyond confused as to what Kai was getting at.

“It’s one of my names, but it’s not MY name. My name is Jongin. Yes, Kai is my name as well but that’s who I am on stage...please, just call me Jongin from now on” he let out, sitting further back into his seat once he realized how aggressive he sounded.

“O-oh, okay. Goodnight Jongin.” Though you were used to saying that name while talking to your friends about his dancing or when they showed you pictures of him, this time it sounded foreign. Almost even forced, as if you shouldn’t be saying it.

Once you unlock the door and walk into your apartment, you receive a text from him.

EXO Kai > y/n 10:36pm: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, it’s just that being called Kai all the time makes me feel disconnected from people, you know? It’s like people see me only as Kai the idol and not Jongin, a regular person.

10:37pm: Kai is the side the fans and the media see and want while Jongin is just the sad guy behind the mask

10:37pm: Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that either. I’m just making this worse aren’t I?

You see the bubble pop up again, showing you that he was typing but before he can send you another message, you text him back.

y/n > EXO Kai 10:38pm: Jongin, it’s fine. I may not be an idol but I get what you mean

10:39pm: I didn’t know that even something like your stage name could have such a restraining feeling for you, and I’m sorry about that. But thank you for opening up to me

You see that he read your message but you don’t see him typing a response so you lock your phone and start your night routine, eventually forgetting to check your phone.

When you woke up the next morning, you saw that Kai, no, Jongin, you reminded yourself, texted you around midnight but you didn’t open his message until lunch when you were done with most of your classes for the day.

Jongin > y/n 12:16am: Goodnight y/n. I’m sorry I’m not the idol you always looked up to, but thank you for listening to me and respecting me as a person. Thank you, see you next week. I can’t wait to see what you have choreographed for me (⌒ω⌒)

And there it was again, the way he speaks so fondly towards you yet he still brings it back to work. You had to remind yourself that the relationship between the two of you is only because of work and that no matter what, you cannot develop feelings for him. It’s not like he’d have time for me anyways, I’m nothing special compared to those other girls he’s dated, you thought to yourself.

You spend the rest of the week doing your usual activities along with choreographing for the title track of Jongin’s album. Though the company sent you just the demo of the track, you could already tell that this sort of song was definitely his style. Sexy yet sweet. Hot but undeniably cool.

A month had passed since Jongin first confided in you about his idol dilemma. After teaching Jongin and the rest of the dancers the choreo you made for the title track, you were no longer needed quite as often in the practice room, which resulted in you seeing Jongin less as his preparations started to stack up in his schedule. He still made it a point to take you out for lunch or dinner, which surprised you since he didn’t necessarily need to keep up a relationship with you now that your part in the album production was over. It was at those times when you were reminded of the instance when he was dropping you off, that he’s human and has friends he hangs out with, you just might have gotten lucky and become one of them.

Your text message chat with him went back and forth between you two talking about the choreo and the comeback to deep late-night conversations like how Sehun saw a cockroach in the shower one night and ran out butt-naked, screaming. Just like your chat, your relationship with Jongin became more confusing as the line between business and friendship blurred even further. Jongin texts you late on a Wednesday night to come to the ‘cloud’ room, which you had mistakenly called it once after watching one too many of the old SM dance practice videos, tomorrow around noon. Similar to when the incident with his name occurred, his message didn’t have the cute emoticons you were used to him sending. You wondered if something in the choreo needed to be changed last minute and sent him a simple thumbs up to let him know you’d be there.

You spent the rest of your Wednesday night reanalyzing the choreo you made, trying to find any flaws that would have resulted in Jongin texting you so seriously and asking you to come in person instead of sending a video along with his questions as usual. By Thursday afternoon, you had a few things in mind that you could easily smooth over and your mind was flooded with different combos and formations to use as you walked through the building to the practice room you told Jongin you’d meet him at.

You entered without knocking since usually the whole team is at work and you don’t want to disrupt whatever they’re working on, so you quietly stepped in and closed the door but you yelped when you heard a loud bang from the area near the sound equipment. Glancing over, you spot Jongin with his balled-up fists on the table and realized the rest of the team wasn’t here. It was just you and him, which led to you being even more confused as to why he had asked you to come in. After hearing the noise you made, Jongin’s head perked up and found you, “oh, y/n, you came.” His tense features immediately relaxing into a loose half-smile where you could see just how tired he was. “I need help on the main part of the chorus. No matter how many times I do it, there just isn’t the right feeling with it and I don’t get it” he said, almost whining.

You sat against the mirror, watching him do it a few times until you got up and stood next to him, facing the mirror. “Jongin you’re treating it way too strictly. This is the chorus, not a dance break, just groove with it, have fun with it, you know?” You danced the part to further show your point.

“Groove with it? What do you mean ‘groove with it?’” He asked, confusion clearly evident on his face and in his voice.

“Relax and think about the song itself. Think about the meaning, the style of it, not the choreography” you responded. He did as you showed him and looked at you for approval. “Good, but keep that same intensity in your eyes from earlier.” He did it again, staring straight into your eyes through your reflection in the mirror, almost sending shivers down your body. You smiled to acknowledge that you liked it and Jongin’s face lit up, seeing as he finally perfected what he deemed to be the ‘killing point’ of the dance, as he had said when you first showed it to him.

After another hour, you and Jongin had gone over the entire dance and worked out any remaining questions he had for you. Just as the two of you were getting ready to leave and head over to the cafe, Jongin called out your name, coming to stand next to where you were packing up your bag.

“Hey Y/N...I-uh-wanted to tell you that I-um-I think-” he began, before you interrupted him, not wanting to hear him stuttering anymore.

“Jongin, do you want to go over something again? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“N-no, it’s just that I think, uh, I think I really like you...r dance...yeah...I really like your dance, the one you made for me in my album, uh haha yeah thank you.” His cheeks and ears started turning pink as he quickly turned around to go gather his things.

Did he just say what I thought he said, you asked yourself, no, he couldn’t have. There’s no way he’d say that. All it would do is hurt his career anyway, he wouldn’t do that. You silenced your thoughts and left the practice room with him to get dinner.

You ate with him at the cafe but your conversation didn’t seem to flow as naturally as it normally did. He kept looking at you like he wanted to say something but never did. The normal playful touches you usually shared weren’t there either and you hated yourself for noticing these things. This was probably just his way of nicely ending our relationship since he probably won’t be working with me again in the future.

As you both made your way down to your cars in the parking lot, Jongin stepped in front of you right after exiting the elevator, looking down at his feet like a little kid would when they’re being scolded.

“Y/N I’d like to thank you for working with me for my solo debut, it really means a lot to me,” this is where you think he’s going to just thank you and say goodnight, but he doesn’t, “I’d like to ask you if you’d come to the first broadcast next week Monday. I know you have class but I won’t be going on until later. You don’t have to if you don’t want to because I know you’re really busy being a student and all but-”

“Jongin, please, I would love to.” You said, saving the both of you from his endless ramblings.

When he finally meets your eyes he gives you a look full of cuteness and adoration be exclaiming, “Really?!”

“Yes, really.”

“Promise?!”

“Yes, Jongin. I promise I will be there.” He hugged you so tight you thought you were going to suffocate but before you could, he released you and skipped off in the direction of his car while happily giggling to himself, “goodnight y/n” he yelled, “see you on Monday.”

You slapped yourself for blushing at his cute outburst. He’s an idol, you’re not supposed to feel this warmth in your heart that yearned for him to hug you again, yet your mind constantly wandered to him during your whole drive back to your apartment.

As you were lying in bed, just about falling asleep, you got a text from Jongin.

Jongin > y/n 9:08pm: SHE SAID YES! (＠＾◡＾)

9:08pm: oh shit

9:08pm: sorry, that was meant for Baekhyun hyung

9:09pm: we were talking about a special girl (＃＞＜)

Your heart immediately dropped. It’s probably another girl he’s dating, seeing as how he’s dated other girl idols before. You knew that you shouldn’t be upset but you just were. It was at that moment that you realized your feelings towards Jongin. You quickly sent a simple ‘haha okay’ back, but his message left you wondering about the lucky girl he was talking about, hurt that you didn’t know who it was. He has no obligation to tell me anything, I’m only his choreographer, you told yourself, probably for the millionth time now.

Ever since that night, you hadn’t initiated a conversation with him though he still texted you occasionally. Sometimes it would be a goodnight message, other times it was just his late-night thoughts about how dogs would wear pants or what kind of sounds a koala makes. You didn’t want to admit it but that one text bothered you for the rest of the week, and as it got closer and closer to his first performance, the more you didn’t want to go. Almost as if Jongin was reading your mind, you received a text message from him.

Jongin > y/n 7:45pm: y/nnnnnn I can’t wait to see you tomorrow -\\3\\-

You were going to send another thumbs up again, but opted for a more cheerful ‘good luck!’ since you knew how much this meant to him and how hard he worked for this and you didn’t want to let your own feelings get in the way of his achievements. It’s not like you were going to be involved in his work much longer once his promotions ended. Maybe it was for the best if you just kept your feelings to yourself so he could go back to being just Kai, the idol, to you, and not the sweet and playful Jongin you had gotten to know and the one you had, unfortunately, fell for. Going to sleep that night was a huge struggle for you, constantly asking yourself if you were going to see him tomorrow or not. Eventually, you fell asleep before reaching a clear answer but knowing you’d have to decide tomorrow anyways

The next morning, you woke up to the sight of sunlight already filling your room, which was not a good sing. You quickly checked your phone and saw that you were already half an hour late to your first class along with noticing Jongin had sent you another message around 6AM though you didn’t read it since your first priority was to get to school. You turned your phone to Do Not Disturb mode and rushed through your morning routine, getting to school just as your second class was starting. After running in five minutes late and profusely apologizing to your professor, you took your normal seat in the back of the room, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.

Your lecture ended faster than you expected and as you waited in the line at the cafeteria you finally pulled out your phone to go through your notifications and saw that Jongin had sent you two more messages.

Jongin > y/n 6:13am: I’m so excited, i could barely even sleep! Good morning y/n, today’s the day! ＼(≧▽≦)／

Jongin > y/n 10:20am: We’re in the cafe ordering sandwiches to eat at the recording studio later. What do you want to drink? I can’t remember if it was the honey lemon tea or the honeydew milk tea (>_<)

10:25am: y/nnnnn please answer meeeeee (╥_╥)

You couldn’t resist his cuteness and texted him back.

y/n > Jongin 10:27am: honey lemon :)

As soon as you hit send, you froze, realizing you had dug yourself into a hole, ultimately forcing yourself into going to the studio he would be performing at later. You were brought out of your dazed state when the person in the back of you cleared their throat loudly and you noticed it was your turn to order.

After you had ordered and received your food, you sat down and ate your lunch quickly, wanting to go to class and get your mind off of Jongin who was walking around up there as if he owned it.

The rest of your day went by quickly and as you got into your car, you let out a long sigh, not wanting to believe that you’d be going to the recording studio to support the man who not only held your heart in his hands but also unknowingly crushed it.

Once inside the studio, it was quite easy to find Jongin’s room, seeing all the staff rushing around with their SM lanyards on, similar to the one you had on. You walked into his room, expecting to be greeted by a loud Jongin, but instead, you were met with the blank stares of his fellow members, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Sehun. Baekhyun was the only one who acknowledged you while the other two simply looked back down at their phones, thinking you were another staff member. “Ah, so you must be the wonderful y/n that our Jonginnie is always talking about! That idiot is always telling us about you, we were just wondering when we’d be able to meet him. He may fall in love quickly but he does have good judgment if you know what I mean.”

Both of the other members immediately perked up upon realizing who you were as your cheeks turned a bright shade of pink after hearing Baekhyun’s words. “J-Jongin talks about me?”

Baekhyun let out one of his big laughs before responding, “All the time! I can’t believe it took him this long to ask you out.”

If it was even humanly possible, you swear you turned even more pink. “Oh, we’re not dating. I think you’ve got me confused with another girl.” Your mind flew back to the text Jongin had accidentally sent you and all your emotions were about to come flooding back to you.

At that moment, Jongin entered the room and walked right into you. Baekhyun caught you, preventing you from what would’ve been an embarrassing fall, however, he only took it as an opportunity to push you right back into Jongin’s arms while yelling, “Ya! Kim Jongin, you idiot! I didn’t raise you to be such a coward, just ask her out already!” He then proceeded to bulldoze both of you out of the room and close the door while Chanyeol and Sehun only laughed while recording the whole thing, probably to send in their group chat later for the others to see.

Once both of you processed what just happened, you and Jongin looked at each other and he immediately released you from his hold and looked at the ground. You took this moment to appreciate his stylists for doing such a good job. He was wearing a full navy blue suit, similar to the legendary red one he wore in the Love Shot music video, further accentuating the light brown contacts he had in his eyes. He brought his hands to your shoulders before taking a deep breath and meeting your eyes.

“Y/n-”

“Jongin-” you both said, at the same time.

“Oh, sorry, you go first.” You blurted out, your heart already racing.

He lightly squeezed your shoulders before saying, “I don’t know how much they told you in there but I suppose you probably already know that I...like you.”

The look on your face told him otherwise. “Weren’t you texting Baekhyun about another girl? A ‘special girl?’ That text you accidentally sent me instead of Baekhyun...” You trailed off at the end, thinking about how stupid you must look.

Jongin dropped his hands to your waist as he threw his head back in laughter before looking back at you. “No, you silly, we were talking about you. You told me you’d come to my first performance, remember?” Everything began to come together for you and you couldn’t believe that Jongin, the perfect man in front of you, had been talking about you to his members and that he likes you. Jongin saved you from further embarrassment when his hands trailed off your waist to find your own hands as he intertwined your fingers and pulled you closer “I’ve tried so many times to do this but I was always too scared of what would happen.” Your eyes locked with his gorgeous hazel masked ones that made it even harder to look away. “I really like you but I didn’t know if you liked me back which is why I never had the strength to ask you out. I was afraid of rejection, but at this point, I don’t think I have much else to lose with what Baekhyun hyung just did. It’s okay if you don’t like me back, I just want-”

As usual, you had to stop his endless rambling, but this time you did it with a quick kiss on his cheek. “I like you too, Jongin.”

Your eyes briefly met his before he enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug. His lips next to your ear, whispering the words he never thought he’d be able to say to you. “Will you be mine?”

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

He let you go only briefly so he could cup your cheeks and land a light kiss on your lips, both of your eyes fluttering closed, only to reopen suddenly at the sound of the other three members cheering from the doorway, all of them holding their phones up and recording the scene in front of them. You tried to pull away from Jongin but he only grabbed your waist and pulled you even closer.

“Jongin what are you-” you began, already having experienced enough embarrassment for a whole lifetime.

“Shhhh, just follow my lead,” he muttered before kissing you again “come on, just ‘groove’ with it” he said, between kisses, imitating your own words, igniting a fire in you as you remember teasing him with it during one of your most intimate practicing sessions together and you started kissing him back, moving your lips with his, much to the members’ disgust.

“Ewww” Sehun whined, right before Baekhyun and Chanyeol made simultaneous coughing and gagging sounds.

Hearing their reactions, Jongin’s lips finally left yours, a playful smile on his face before pulling you into another hug, this one full of warmth and affection. “Thank you y/n, thank you for giving me this chance. I’ll make you happy, I promise.”

You pulled back to face him, “thank you too, Jongin. Maybe it’s just our thing to ‘groove’ together” you said, bringing a finger up and playfully booping his nose.

He rolled his eyes at you before pushing your head back into his shoulder and letting you both enjoy the feeling of each other’s embrace, momentarily forgetting about the other three men standing in the doorway until they started making repulsive noises again.

140 notes · View notes

lollercakesff · 3 years

Text

Home Bound

Survive. Escape. Go home? To what home?

Jyn and Cassian escape from Scarif and settle on a small planet in the outer rim where the traditions are vibrant and the Rebellion barely scratches at their front door. Years pass, they live. But then the scratching at their door gets heavier, and heavier, and soon there’s a knock that calls them back into the service. They go because to say no would go against their very fiber, but when everything they’ve come to know disappears, how do they remember what they’re fighting for?

Survive. Escape. Go home. Right?

A gift for the Rebelcaptain Secret Santa gift exchange for @youareiron-andyouarestrong!

Read it all on AO3!

Part One:

Step 1: Survive.

Step 2: Get off Scarif

Step 3: Get back to Yavin V

Step 4: …. Step 4?

They make it through steps one through three and he doesn’t understand how exactly it happens. One second he’s on a beach and the sky's alight and the heat is almost unbearable but for her body wrapped around his… Next, he’s tucked in a medbay bed on a ship with his hand wrapped up in Jyn’s, her grip tight despite the soft breaths filling his room. He doesn’t know what’s supposed to come next and for once, maybe he’s okay with that.

And so he pulls her hand closer and ignores the twinge in his spine as he wraps himself around her, unwilling to let the heat from before eat him alive like his mind is convinced it will.

---

They settle on Calabriana, a small planet in the Outer Rim where nobody knows their names. The anonymity was a requirement after Scarif, after the desolation of Yavin V, after Hoth.

Cassian and Jyn had stuck around the Rebellion after Scarif to fight and it had been years of it, endless days of missions that had picked at their open wounds until one day - a day like any other - Cassian had come back to his bunk to find Jyn curled up in his cot, shivering and vacant.

“Jyn?” Cassian breathes, hesitating at his door. It wasn’t that she was here, in his room, which made him pause. Nor was it finding her in his bed, even though they never explicitly talked about that . No, the panic in his chest wasn’t any of those things. It was the look on her face, the way it didn’t flicker to life like it normally would. Something was wrong. “Are you alright?”

She doesn’t respond, not verbally at least. All she does do is close her eyes until her brow furrows and her breathing seems to stop under his inspection. It's enough to bring him to her side, his hand coming to her cheek as he drops to his knees beside her.

“Come back to me,” he whispers softly, the words unfamiliar on his lips.

They had always been her words, murmured into his temple after a bad dream, after a mission went sideways and she had to come find him. Her fingers on his chin, her cheek pressed to his brow so he didn’t have to hide his pained expression.

“Jyn, come back,” he repeats and her eyes blink open, flickering up to meet his. He exhales a shaky breath and slides his thumb along her jaw. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shakes her head and he follows as she pulls him into the bed, her small frame tucking into his chest as though she was set to disappear into him.

An hour passes. Then two. It’s late when she whispers what she needs, the feeling resonating within him like a ricocheted gunshot.

“I can’t be here anymore. I need to leave. Come with me?”

He doesn’t think before he utters his reply: “Yes.”

It’s two days later that they’re boarding their ship, the half-repaired K2SO droid packed away and their small bag of worldly possessions fastened in the hold.

Leia had come to say goodbye, as had Draven and Bodhi and Kes. Their small farewell had gone mostly unannounced. The heroes of Scarif disappeared into the sky, almost as though their lives in the Rebellion after Scarif were but ghosts haunting hallways. Maybe they had been.

---

Life on Calabriana was hard. Not in the sense of working themselves to death or being required to go on high risk missions every day like an endless rotation of pain and misery. No. It was hard in the way that living a quiet life after so much suffering was hard. It was the silence, and the calm way that life moved like a snake in the grass, weaving and slithering through time until it rounded in and tried to consume itself.

At first, Cassian was sure they’d made a mistake. His hours helping build a home were well spent, yes, but the nights were almost unbearable. There was no intel to keep his mind occupied when the nightmares wouldn’t cease, no halls to endlessly walk until he fell asleep on a crate or in a corner hidden from view. On Calabriana, there was only silence and the creak of the floors under his feet, Jyn’s bedroom door always closed as he debated raising his fist and disturbing her sleep. He doesn’t, at least not until one day she pulls it open and reaches for his hand, drawing him into her room and into her bed.

Neither of them say it out loud but every sleepless night from that night on - and even some in between - ends with finding solace in one another’s arms. And then one night, as Cassian hovers in her doorway as she readies for sleep, he straightens and finally pulls himself together.

“I don’t want to sleep in my own bed anymore,” he admits, cautious and low.

“I thought we already gave up on that idea,” Jyn answers evenly, pulling her work top over her head and tugging one of his old shirts from her drawer to use as a nightshirt. The hem hovers mid-thigh and he forces himself not to stare even though his whole body lights with the familiar draw of her.

“Really?” He counters and she lifts a brow in reply. In another second she’s standing before him, hands on her hips in challenge.

“Really. I asked you to leave the Rebellion with me and you did. I never really understood why you thought you needed to sleep in another room but I wasn’t going to push you. Figured you’d come around eventually.”

“You mean you were already at this point and I’ve been the one holding back?” The thought surprises him, all of the signals for the reality of their arrangement finally falling into place. Oh .

“Maybe,” she smirks and he sighs, reaching for her hips and drawing her close to his chest. The kiss is anything but chaste and in the morning when they wake - wrapped around one another like vines on a lush jungle planet - they don’t talk about how things have changed and what it means, instead choosing to simply share a room like it was a practical merging of resources.

---

Sharing a room becomes sharing a life. They work the fields together, go to town together, and when the nights are particularly cold with the seasonal change they cling and make their own heat together.

Their first few months on Calabriana pass uninterrupted by guests until one night there’s a knock on their door, a stricken look passing over Jyn’s face as Cassian gets up from where he’s settled with a story and his tea. He hesitates at the door, sucking in a breath, before he pulls it open to see a small crowd of humanoid beings huddled outside in elaborate colourful costumes. The sight makes him uneasy until one takes a breath.

And then they start to sing.

It’s maybe only five minutes. Maybe ten. Before the group nods and bids their farewells, walking off into the night as Cassian shuts the door and turns back to face Jyn who looks just as confused.

“Local greeting committee?” Jyn offers with a shrug. Cassian nods and returns to his seat, picking up his reading and trying not to think about the odd encounter.

A few days later and Jyn and Cassian venture to town, their eyes wide as they come upon the village now lit with endless flickering lights and colours all strewn about the streets. All around them people are rushing from shop to shop, arms loaded with bags and bright smiles on their faces.

“What's going on?” He asks the supply clerk nonchalantly, his attention turned towards his chip card as he swipes it across the reader.

“It’s the season of Jule. A time of gathering and well-wishing. Have you never experienced a Calabrianan Jule before?” Cassian shakes his head and glances over to where Jyn is running her fingers along a scarf on display, her lips quirked up in a small smile. “Well, it is a wonderful time to be here. You must attend the feast. Three days from now in the market - bring your partner and gift her that lovely piece she’s admiring - it’s tradition.”

“How much for it?” Cassian asks by way of thanks. The man adds the cost to his bill and promises to wrap the gift up ahead of the festival.

Cassian doesn’t know what he’s promised to attend - was the feast a sacrificial ceremony or truly a happy occasion, he wasn't sure - but he isn’t concerned. None of the research he’d managed to dig up on this planet had talked about ritual sacrifice, so they’d probably be fine.

He hoped, at least.

---

The day of the feast, Cassian has to challenge Jyn to a competition to get her out of the house. She's too busy lounging like a Lothkat, curled up under a blanket as she enjoys her tea and hides away from the chill that has settled outside.

"I'll do the dishes for a week if you win. If I win, you have to come with me to town later," he offers, tweaking her toes with his fingers until she grins and pulls them out of his grip.

"Fine. Get the dice."

He wins by sheer luck, or at least that's what he tells himself as she rolls another snake-eyes. Two hours later and they're back in town, coming upon the small community at dusk. The lights flicker across the growing darkness and Cassian swears he can see stars in Jyn's eyes, her look of awe beautiful and serene and so far from the haunted look she'd worn the day she asked him to leave with her.

"They say there's a feast," Cassian says easily, starting to lead them forward and through the small alleys towards the market. Jyn sticks to his side and keeps her hand curled in the fabric of his pocket, holding on as they weave between groups of people, little families sprawling across swaths of space.

"A feast of what, exactly?" Jyn counters evenly, though there's no harshness to her words.

"Not sure. But the guy at the shop said we should come and I figured… if we're going to settle here we might as well try to follow some of their customs to blend in. Unless - "

"No, you're right. We can keep to ourselves but I think eventually we need to engage a bit. Good call," she adds. Cassian laughs tightly and reaches for her hand, pulling it into his own.

"Don't congratulate me yet, we've still got to survive tonight."

They arrive into the bustle of the market and are stopped short by the sight they come upon. It's like Home Base after a victory, the crowd thriving and music filling the space around the shouts of excitement. A giant tree fills the center of the square, its bows filled with lights and ornaments that sparkle and glint in the changing light. Around them, children chase each other and adults fill tables with food and drink and laughter. It feels foreign to stand on the edge, looking in at a community that wasn't theirs.

"You made it!" The clerk greets, lifting himself from his table and beckoning them over. Cassian clutches tightly to Jyn's hand and seeks her approval with a glance, her returning squeeze urging them forward. "And you've brought your lovely partner. Sit! Join us!"

They're settled into seats at the crowded table and handed cups and a bottle of something tangy. Jyn seems to evaluate the substance before pouring herself some and dipping a finger in for a taste. Cassian watches as she frowns and then softens to an easy smile, eventually lifting to take a sip. With her approval, Cassian pours himself a cup and let's the man - Hinar, as he introduces himself - bring them up to speed on the celebration.

Twelve nights of celebration. Food, family, friends as a theme with occasional gifts given to each other on the last night. An ancient tradition brought from across the universe and combined into one massive festival celebrated around the small planet.

The whole thing awed Cassian, the joy and the brightness and the welcoming nature of everyone around them. He'd never seen Jyn laugh so freely and the lightness of it was contagious, filling him too and loosening his tension for the first time in months. This was a planet still untouched by war, its few resources and minimal population making it unattractive to those looking to bleed a planet dry. They would be safe here, he was sure of it, or at least that's what he told Jyn as they wandered home a bit tipsy and a bit light on their feet.

"I think we could build something here," he murmurs as she leans into his side, the navy scarf he'd gifted her wrapped loosely around her neck.

"What do you mean?" It's not accusatory and he thinks that's good, right?

"If… if you wanted to make something out of the rest of this life. Together. I think we could do it here."

She slows her pace as they linger in the yard, her gaze finding his in the low light.

"Are you asking me to - "

"Yes. Whatever we want it to be. But I want to build it. With you."

Her eyes stay locked onto his, the colours swirling in the low light as she chews the inside of her cheek. The silence is almost deafening and he nearly takes it back, the proposal burning the back of his throat.

But then she lifts up on her toes and reaches her arms around his neck, drawing him down towards her waiting lips.

"Yes," she whispers later into his chest, her body perched over his as he slowly comes down from his release. Her sweaty sticky skin slides across his and she wraps herself around him, their breathing coming into sync. “I want to build something. With you.”

He thinks maybe this was what Step Four was about, all those months ago.

#youareiron andyouarestrong #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #lollercakes tries to write

21 notes · View notes

eclecticanalyst · 3 years

Text

We’re Expecting You...To Boldly Go [part 2]

In my last post, I expounded on the similarities in the general premise and structure of The Love Boat and Star Trek: The Next Generation, two shows that on the surface seem not to have much in common but on closer examination have some unexpected similarities. In my follow-up post on this theme, I will be drawing parallels between the main/regular characters of both shows. The crew lineup on each ship can be broken down into six character functions/profiles: The Captain, The Captain’s Confidant, The Big Brother, The Two Buds, The Chick, and The Kid.

The Captain

Star Trek TNG: Captain Jean-Luc Picard

The Love Boat: Captain Merrill Stubing

“The Captain” is...the captain! Beyond his role as the primary authority figure, he can be characterized in the following ways. Being the one to whom the rest of the crew reports, he is a bit socially removed from the rest of the main characters. While they can pal around with each other, they still treat him with a bit more deference even as he comes to be just as integral a part of their found family as the rest of them. The Captain can be rather intimidating at times—especially in the early days, when he had a tendency to be overly gruff with his crew. Part of that gruffness is the fact that he has very high standards for the people who serve under him. At the same time, however, he cares deeply for those people and is willing to put himself on the line for them, even bending the rules a bit in order to help them out of a difficult spot. He’s full of thoughtful advice should one of his crew ask for it, and is the most likely of the crew to give speeches about moral responsibility. He also has a playful streak, which he keeps under wraps but uses to mess with his crew from time to time. In terms of appearance, he’s older than the rest of the cast and he is bald(ing). He’s played by the best actor of the cast—Patrick Stewart is, of course, Patrick Stewart, I don’t think I really need to say more there, and Gavin MacLeod was a veteran actor (probably best known at that point for his role as Murray on The Mary Tyler Moore Show), able to handle both the comic and the dramatic whenever needed.

The Captain’s Confidant

Star Trek TNG: Dr. Beverly Crusher

The Love Boat: Dr. Adam “Doc” Bricker

I could have called this character profile “The Doctor,” following the same pattern as “The Captain,” but there was another aspect to Beverly and Doc that I wanted to draw attention to, beyond their being the respective healers of their crews. Both Beverly and Doc have a slightly different relationship with the Captain than the other members of the crew. They are a bit closer to the Captain, able to address him easily as a friend instead of as a superior officer if the situation calls for it. Notice that when working, Beverly will address Picard as “Captain” and “sir,” but when it’s just the two of them chatting in a more intimate setting she calls him “Jean-Luc.” Beverly is also one of the few people on board that Picard is comfortable with opening up to regarding his own insecurities or worries, while he takes more care to maintain his “self-assured captain” persona with everyone else. The same dynamic plays out between Stubing and Doc: there are several instances of Doc addressing his friend as “Merrill”—which none of the other members of the crew would even consider doing—and the power difference between the two is not as pronounced as it is between the captain and the other crew members. Whenever Captain Stubing has a personal problem, he goes to Doc for advice, and vice versa. Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard have a history, having been friends long before he took command of the Enterprise. In the same vein, Doc seems to know Captain Stubing’s past more intimately than the rest of the crew, as there are a few episodes in which the two of them discuss Captain Stubing’s alcohol addiction and current status as a teetotaler as if this is something Doc has always known about Merrill.

The Big Brother

Star Trek TNG: William Riker

The Love Boat: Adam “Doc” Bricker

So this is cheating a bit because I already have Doc listed under a character profile above, but TNG’s main cast has more people than that of TLB, so a one-to-one mapping wasn’t going to happen anyway. Doc’s “Captain’s Confidant” role deals with his relationship with the captain, and his “Big Brother” role deals with his relationship with the rest of the regulars. The fact that Doc is a bit older than Julie, Isaac, and Gopher means that even though he, like the rest of them, is under the supervision of the captain, he has a slight position of seniority over the other three. He balances the by-turns mischievous and responsible aspects of an older brother figure—he’ll tease Julie about her latest infatuation, and set up elaborate pranks to mess with Gopher, yet whenever Gopher and Isaac get swept up in some not-well-thought-out scheme, he’s the level-headed one who tries to point out that they’ve gotten carried away—or sometimes refuses to get involved altogether. William Riker is, of course, first officer of the Enterprise, and therefore has the same seniority-among-underlings position (in a more official chain of command capacity than Doc does). His big-brother-ness manifests as the poker-playing, jazz-loving guy who will do things like give Worf’s son music recordings that he knows Worf will hate one day but get actively upset and almost personally offended at the idea of Data getting hurt the next.

Not necessarily related to the “Big Brother” role, but another little parallel between Doc and Riker that I would like to point out—they are each the designated ladies’ man of their ships, yet both are able to completely switch to focusing solely on their job responsibilities the moment it is called for. (Honestly, Doc always struck me as going beyond “ladies’ man” and skirting dangerously close to “creep” territory at times, but I did appreciate how he would always drop everything the instant there was any sort of medical issue on the Princess.)

The Two Buds

Star Trek TNG: Geordi La Forge and Data

The Love Boat: Isaac Washington and Burl “Gopher” Smith

Although both the TNG and TLB crews form a group of close friends, The Two Buds are best friends. They are the two most likely people to hang out together in their down time, the two who understand each other the best, the two most sympathetic to each other’s problems and most likely to indulge the other long after everyone else would have put their foot down. When Gopher gets some conspiracy theory into his head about a passenger, Isaac will hear him out and sometimes even help him investigate. When Data wants to do some questionable experimentation on his positronic net, Geordi is there with a tricorder making sure the whole thing doesn’t go completely haywire. Data once said that he didn’t know what a friend was until he met Geordi, and Isaac once told Gopher that he (Gopher) is the only one Isaac would resign in solidarity for. All four men/androids have a tendency to get a little too wrapped up in their obsession of the week—see Isaac’s novel-writing attempts, Geordi’s holographic Leah Brahms, Gopher’s conspiracy theories, and about half of anything Data does.

Each pair also consists of one white guy and one Black guy. (Obviously, Data is an android and therefore is not technically any human race or ethnicity, but he’s played by a white guy and his artificial skin is paler than anyone else’s skin on the senior staff.) The white guy representatives, Gopher and Data, are almost polar opposites—Data is calm and logical, and Captain Picard trusts him implicitly, while Gopher is a goof who freaks out easily and who is often upset with the way Captain Stubing dismisses him (those dismissals are especially prominent in the first few seasons—Gopher does mellow out later on). But they do have some similarities, one of the most striking being that they both struggle with appropriate social behavior as well as their own emotions. This is more readily apparent with Data, of course, who is literally not human and is trying his best to understand the nuances of things like humor and love, constantly asking his friends to explain behaviors they take for granted. Gopher’s struggles are more understated—he has a tendency to make comments and observations that the rest of the crew find slightly tasteless, he goes into several anxious tailspins over the course of the show, and he at one point believes his emotional attachments to his friends compromise his ability to fulfill his job duties. Both Data and Gopher use their respective best friends—each of whom are the more level-headed of the pair—as a steadying force.

Now for the characteristics shared by those respective best friends. The Black guy’s job responsibilities root him in a specific place and often set him slightly apart from the main action. While Geordi can and does go up to the bridge on several occasions, as Chief of Engineering he spends most of his time hanging around the warp core, communicating with the bridge over the com system. Meanwhile, Isaac can be seen wandering hallways and so forth, but he spends most of his time behind the bar, whether that’s in the Acapulco Lounge, on the Lido Deck, or in Pirate’s Cove. The rest of the crew, despite having nominal work stations like the Enterprise bridge or the Pacific Princess purser’s lobby, are seen to roam more extensively. (I’m pretty sure we never see Julie’s office.) Isaac is busy serving drinks in pretty much every episode while Doc and Gopher are chatting and dancing with passengers on the dance floor of the Acapulco Lounge. The Black guy also gets the short end of the stick in the romance department. When you see a Black guest actor on the opening credits of The Love Boat, it’s a good bet that Isaac will be involved in their storyline. If it’s just one Black woman, there’s a 99% chance that Isaac will be involved in her story, and his involvement will be as her love interest. I remember one particularly glaring example of the show going to extreme lengths to avoid even hinting that Isaac could potentially do something vaguely romantic or sexual with a white woman—Julie’s hosting her high school reunion on the ship, and there are a few scenes where everyone is discoing in the Acapulco Lounge. Isaac gets out on the dance floor, and conveniently some random Black woman appears out of nowhere as his dance partner. This woman is not named or acknowledged at any other point in the episode. Over on the Enterprise, Geordi isn’t restricted along race lines like Isaac, but I find it highly suspicious that the one Black guy is the least successful in romance out of everyone on the senior staff. Geordi struggles to even start up a conversation with women he’s attracted to, let alone flirt with them. Data has a better romance track record than Geordi does, and Data usually ends up in a romantic entanglement by accident! It’s as if the show was afraid to let Geordi enjoy those kinds of relationships to the same degree as the rest of the crew, which is a different kind of restriction than Isaac’s, but still a restriction nonetheless.

The Chick

Star Trek TNG: Deanna Troi

The Love Boat: Julie McCoy

The standard lineup for both TNG and The Love Boat consisted two female main characters, thus allowing the ladies to gossip about “girly” things in keeping with gender stereotypes, but Vicki was a preteen/teenager and Beverly had a sort of matron vibe going on, which left Julie and Troi to be the respective sex appeal characters out of the main cast. The Chick has non-standard dress that sets her apart from the others and their status as officers. While Doc, Gopher, and Captain Stubing wore nautical stripes and white uniforms (and Isaac usually had a variation on this outfit, wearing a red or blue jacket), with very little in the way of costume changes whether they were greeting boarding passengers, chatting on the Lido deck, or dancing in the Acapulco Lounge, Julie had no stripes to speak of. She would wear a (feminine) uniform at boarding, switch to a casual outfit during the rest of the day, and was always wearing a gown of some sort in the evenings. Deanna Troi for her part cycled through purple jumpsuits and asymmetrical dresses, her Starfleet badge precariously pinned to her neckline. We didn’t even get to see the pips indicating her rank until she was finally given (in story, ordered into) a normal uniform in season six.

The Chick gets saddled with way too many romance plots, some creepier than others. Giving Troi something substantial to do in an episode usually consisted of making her the love interest of whoever happened to be boarding the Enterprise that week, like the ambassador with the telepathic interpreters or the quarter-Betazoid interplanetary negotiator. Deanna also got her mind invaded by a man who was interested in her, prematurely aged by a man who took advantage of her, and kidnapped by Ferengi (who have a disturbing species-wide infatuation with non-Ferengi women). I’m not as upset about Julie having several romance-related plots, as romance was the name of the game on The Love Boat and the men on the crew had their own share of romantic entanglements—but I do find issue with the fact that when Julie was in love she always seemed on the verge of getting married and leaving the ship, which was a vibe we didn’t really get from, say, Doc or Gopher when their love lives turned particularly intense. In terms of creepiness, Julie had to deal with fending off the extremely aggressive advances of Captain Stubing’s uncle, a computer programmer who rigged his dating algorithm to ensure he matched with her, and a college acquaintance of Gopher who actually came to her door to badger her as she was getting dressed.

The Kid

Star Trek TNG: Wesley Crusher

The Love Boat: Vicki Stubing

For some reason, both of these shows thought it necessary to have a preteen/teenager in the cast whose character has way more responsibility than is realistic for either a cruise ship or a pseudomilitary starship. Instead of Vicki wearing a uniform and checking in guests on the Pacific Princess, we really should have seen Julie’s or Gopher’s staff fulfilling check-in duty (Doc and Isaac were also too often seen checking in passengers, which I will say again is a duty that on a real cruise ship would definitely not fall to either the ship’s doctor or chief bartender, but we’re talking about Vicki at the moment). Wesley, meanwhile, was made Acting Ensign on the Enterprise, saving the ship way more than he should have and probably earning the ire of all the official ensigns who actually went to Starfleet Academy and were losing precious time at the conn due to Picard’s favoritism.

Speaking of Picard, The Captain has a paternal relationship with The Kid—literally in Vicki Stubing’s case, emotionally in Wesley Crusher’s. He is very concerned with imbuing The Kid with strong morals, and has a vested interest in The Kid’s upbringing and making sure The Kid has a bright future. Meanwhile, the rest of the main crew are like an assortment of aunts and uncles, being the cool, approachable sources of advice when The Captain’s not around. In fact, The Kid hardly seems to have any friends their own age. Instead, they hang out with the adult crew members and get involved in their social drama, which may or may not have always been appropriate.

Isn’t there someone you forgot?

The TNG fans among you may now be thinking to yourselves, “What about Worf?” Alas, there seems to be no satisfactory Worf counterpart on The Love Boat. After all, there isn’t really any need for a tactical officer on a cruise ship, so a warrior-type personality is not represented on the Pacific Princess crew. Other Worf characteristics would be that of an outsider, or one who is occasionally not sure if they truly belong on the ship, but everyone on the Princess seems pretty happy to be there. I guess in a pinch I could say Ace, the late-addition ship’s photographer, might serve as Worf’s counterpart, but other than the fact that Ace’s family is rich and it is established that he doesn’t really need a job on the ship to get by, I’m not sure there’s much of an “outsider” status brought to the table here. I also haven’t watched enough Ace episodes to have a really good read on his character.

Thus ends my Love Boat/TNG comparison! It was nice to finally get this analysis out of my head and onto the page.

#the love boat #star trek #tng #comparison

2 notes · View notes

goldgalaxytea-fanfics · 4 years

Text

The Little Jellyfish (Asra) - Chapter 1: So hold my hand

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Multi, Other

Fandom: The Arcana

Relationship: Asra Alnazar x Reader

Characters: Asra Alnazar, Reader, You

Additional Tags: MerMay, MerMay 2020, Mer AU, mermaid au, Alternate Universe, AU, Mer Asra, Jellyfish Asra, Merperson Asra (The Arcana), human reader, Reader-Insert, x Reader, gender neutral reader, male reader - Freeform, Female Reader, no specific pronouns used for reader, Frozen (Disney Movies) References, First Meetings, Movie Night, Frozen movie marathon, Sleepy Cuddles, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, One (1) forehead kiss, Mer Asra learns about the human world, Little Mermaid Elements, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex

Words: 1,949

Summary:

Notes:

This is the first part of a series for MerMay 2020! Each part will be a separate story featuring a mer!love interest x human!reader. There will be 6 stories in total, one for each LI! Full disclosure, each one will end in fishy horizontal tangos👀

(Chapter title from "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men)

Chapter 2 ▶️

Series Masterlist

Merpeople weren’t real, they were simply stories told throughout the centuries to entertain people. They were myths, legends, folklore, or at least, that’s what you thought. So when you saw a person in his birthday suit stumbling around the beach near your house, your first thought wasn’t omg what if that’s a merperson that just got legs and that’s why he’s falling over like a toddler? No, it was holy shit is he drunk out of his mind? Though since it was the middle of the day and there hadn’t been any parties nearby last night it quickly shifted to oh my god he’s either on drugs or bat shit crazy. You tried ignoring him, but it was difficult watching him stumble around like a newborn foal, especially with the adorable pout he had every time he tumbled back down onto the sand. You sighed, grabbing a towel and heading outside, silently praying that you wouldn’t grow to regret this decision.

“Hey…” Vibrant purple eyes snapped to yours, the pure wonder and awe swimming in them surprised you, he looked like a kid set loose in a candy shop. If this was a cartoon he’d have literal stars in his eyes. Seriously what the hell is up with this person? You took in the rest of his appearance, pointedly avoiding anywhere below his waist. A white tattoo of an unfamiliar symbol rested right above his heart, a stark contrast to his golden brown skin. The sun shining favorably upon him almost gave him the illusion of actual gold. White fluffy curls danced around his head in every direction, almost like a cloud had descended from the sky just to rest upon his head. He was so gorgeous he couldn’t possibly be real. What the literal fuck. This was just getting weirder and weirder.

“Um… are you okay?” Your eyes finally drifted back to his, shocked to find he had been checking you out as well. Your cheeks grew warm, but you couldn’t blame it on the warm weather. Clearing your throat and avoiding his intense gaze you hold the towel out to him. He tilted his head curiously. “You, uh, you should cover yourself. This isn’t a nude beach so you’ll probably get in trouble.” His soft lips parted as he finally spoke.

“Oh, right, forgot about that.” His voice itself sounded like the world’s most beautiful song, yet what he said was the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. Who in their right mind forgets they can’t be nude in public? Your heart sank. Maybe he wasn’t in his right mind… You swept your doubt under the rug, he obviously needed assistance and you were determined to see this through. Besides he seemed harmless. He took the towel, long slender fingers brushing against yours. You jumped, his fingers were freezing. Worry settled heavily in your chest. You were no doctor, but it was definitely not a good sign he was cold in the middle of one of the hottest days of the summer. “Would you like to go to my house?” You spoke before you could even weigh the pros and cons of that kind of offer. He blinked. “I could give you some proper clothes to wear until you can get your own.” You offered your hand to him. He stared at you for a moment, thinking over your offer. His curious expression broke into a wide smile as he took your hand. You helped him up but refused to let go of his hand, trying your best to transfer some heat into the icy limb. He did his confused little head tilt again and your heart skipped a beat. It's not fair that he's so other worldly hot and so goddamn adorable. “Your hands are cold, I’m just trying to warm them up.”

“Thank you.” He flashed his blinding smile again. Yeah, he’s definitely going to be the death of you. The both of you walked in silence, it was quite peaceful really. Until cold arms wrapped around you. You shrieked and jumped away from him. His eyes were wide, but he refused to look at you. Instead choosing to stare sadly at his hands, like they were at fault. “I apologize-”

“It’s okay!” You quickly cut him off, not being able to stand him looking like a kicked puppy for another second. “You just surprised me.” You opened your arms in invitation. It only took a second for him to throw himself into your arms, practically tackling you. The force nearly toppled you over but you managed to keep the both of you on your feet. He nuzzled his head against yours.

“So warm…” He whispered. You laughed, trying to suppress your shivers. It felt like hugging a block of ice, this definitely isn’t normal. You speed walked back to your home as fast as you could with a half naked person clinging to you. As soon as you got in the door you freed yourself from the handsome stranger’s embrace, a soft whine escaping him as you hurried to get him clothes and blankets. You returned to him with the large pile, dumping it on the couch as he watched you with curious eyes. He hadn’t moved from where you left him. You gestured him over and he came immediately, nearly tripping over the end table.

“I got some warm pajamas for you and some blankets so you can keep warm. Do you feel sick?” You inquired. He merely shook his head and went to grab the clothes from the couch. “Wait! You’re still covered in sand.” You smacked your head, how could you forget that so easily? “My bathroom’s down the hall so you can rinse off.” You pointed in the direction. He didn’t move, just staring at you. “Do you... do you need help with the shower?”

“Yes…” He sheepishly mumbled. You grabbed the pjs and then his wrist, guiding him down the hallway.

“It’s okay! I’ll show you how to work it.” You set the clothes on the counter and showed him the shower, demonstrating how to turn it on and off and how to change the temperature. He paid full attention to your mini lesson, very interested in the shower and how it worked. Once you felt confident he knew what he was doing you left him to his own devices. Making your way back to the couch you took a glance at the time. Oh it was 6 PM already. You headed towards the kitchen, deciding to make some Chicken Noodle Soup. It would quickly warm the mysterious stranger up and hopefully help with whatever was wrong with him.

As soon as you poured the soup into two bowls soft footsteps came down the hallway. You turned to smile at him as he entered the kitchen, trying to hold back a laugh. His hair was somehow even puffier now. Without thinking you reached out to feel how soft it was. Your hand gently drifted through what you swore could’ve been a real life cloud. A pleased sigh broke you from your trance. Embarrassed you pulled your hand back as if you'd been burned. He pouted while you quickly changed subjects.

“I made us some lunch." You carried the bowls over to the couch, setting them down on the table. You patted the other side of the couch, motioning him to sit next to you. As he sat down you realized the irony of what he was wearing. You had grabbed the first pajamas you could reach, which just so happened to be Frozen themed pajamas. You laughed, earning another curious stare from your beautiful companion.

"Why are you laughing?" He was confused but your good mood must have been infectious, for he was smiling along with you.

"Your skin is ice cold and I gave you Frozen themed pajamas." You snorted at the sight of blue snowflakes and Olaf scattered all over the white fabric while his brows furrowed.

"But… those clothes are not made of ice?" He questioned. He can't be serious. You observed his lost expression. Holy shit he's serious.

"Frozen is a movie about-"

"What's a movie?" He asked. You blinked, processing what he had said.

"You're… you're not from around here are you?" You wondered aloud. That would explain why he didn't seem to understand anything. It was a flimsy excuse but it was the best you could think of. A musical laugh brought your attention back to your guest. His eyes were mischievous, like he knew something you didn't.

"That is correct. I'm from a very different place than here." He didn't elaborate.

"Okay. Well it's probably better to just show you instead then." You turned on the TV and put the movie on. His violet eyes were glued to the screen as soon as the opening sequence started playing. He paid no mind to you as you wrapped the both of you up in a large fluffy blanket. His eyes only strayed when you handed him his bowl of soup. His eyes stayed on you, observing how you ate your soup before copying what you did. He hummed pleasantly as he devoured the warm food. You tried your best to focus on the movie but it was honestly more entertaining to watch him and his reactions to it instead.

The farther you got into the film, the closer the two of you got. By the end he was pressed up against your side as he cried onto your shoulder. You held him and patted his curls in comfort. As the credits rolled you were both practically cuddling.

"It's over?" He asked, disappointment laced through his voice.

"Yeah it's over. But there's a second movie!" He perked up at that.

"Can we watch that movie too?" He gave you puppy eyes. Even if you wanted to it felt impossible to say no to that face.

"Of course! It wouldn't be a Frozen marathon without the second one!" He happily hugged you. You hid your blush by starting the next film. His attention immediately focused back on the screen, but his arms stayed wrapped around you. You didn't complain, settling your head on his shoulder. You noticed he had grown warmer. He wasn't as warm as a person normally should be, but he wasn't freezing anymore. He felt more lukewarm than anything. Despite that though he felt so comfy. You imagined this is what cuddling a cloud felt like. The softness of him against you was like a siren's song lulling you to sleep. The events of the movie faded away as you succumbed to the gentle lullaby. Soft white locks tickled your face as you realized you were hearing a lullaby. Your new friend was quietly singing along to the movie, voice soft and sweet as you felt his song pull you deeper into the inky abyss of sleep. The last thing you could recall was something soft pressing gently against your forehead.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿🐚‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You awoke slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you remembered the events of yesterday. You searched for the gorgeous stranger but he was nowhere to be found. The only trace of him was a conch shell left where he had been sitting the night before. It was as white as his hair with the same strange symbol as his tattoo carved into the smooth surface. You examined the shell’s beauty, wondering if you'd ever see him again. Your heart sank as you realized you never got his name, let alone a way to contact him. So it was not likely. It seemed that the movie night would be your only encounter with the mysterious person.

Oh how wrong you were.

Notes:

Fun fact! The Frozen pjammies in the fic are based on pjs I have irl😂

Also Frozen is one of my favorite movies so ofc I'm going to put it in a fic if given the opportunity🥰

Chapter 2 ▶️

Series Masterlist

77 notes · View notes

yikeswtfmate · 4 years

Text

Strange Times || Ch. 2

previous part // Strange Times Series Masterlist // next part

Summary: Now that Y/N Pearson is in town, Mickey wants to spend time with his little sister, or at least, you know, keep an eye on her. However, she has other plans and Ray is still not sure how he was convinced into helping her out.

Pairing: Raymond (Charlie Hunnam - The Gentlemen, 2020) x Reader

Warnings: swearing; alcohol consumption; drug consumption; sexual themes

A/N: hello sweethearts, this has been sitting in my drafts for far too long while i’ve been going back and forth trying to decide whether i should keep posting this or not, but it’s too much fun to write and it seems there are some of you who seem to enjoy the story so here it is!

The moment the car pulls in front of the entrance, Y/N bounds out of the door. She’s been quiet during the car ride, humming a vaguely familiar tune under her breath, while scribbling away in her planner. Raymond wondered what her plans might be in a country she’s only visited once more than a decade ago, but he took his phone out, deciding it’s better to tend to his own responsibilities, rather than try to taunt her again.

Now, he instructs David to bring the suitcases in the house, taking a deep breath before stepping in. He finds Y/N in Rosalind’s arms, as Mickey fusses around them, taking her coat and bag, and it shocks Ray into realising that for all of his boss’ might, he’s entirely wrapped around both of their fingers. Y/N just laughs at him, bumps their shoulders together and flicks his forehead, even though the man’s practically towering over her.

There’s a moment when he makes eye contact with Mickey, but Raymond’s had more than his share of Y/N by this point. Not to mention that he would rather avoid thinking about her bent over the back of the couch when her brother is standing right there. He raises his phone and ducks to the office with a nod from Mickey.

Four hours later, Raymond steps back down into the living room, having finished all his duties for the day. He hears Y/N’s laugh as he’s about to take the corner and into the living room, but the sound makes him stop in his tracks. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, shocked by the musical tones in it which plays in direct contrast to the snort that follows it. Shaking himself out of his trance, he enters the room where Mickey is laying in an armchair, whiskey tumbler in a hand, while Rosalind offers Y/N a glass of gin. He follows the curve of her bare thigh, splayed over the armrest of the recliner, now that her boots are thrown under the coffee table. He catches her gaze and the glint in her eye tells him that she’s seen him staring. There’s a barely noticeable wink, concealed as she takes a sip of her drink, but her other hand pulls the hem of her skirt an inch higher, seemingly unconsciously to the uninterested eye.

“Right, I’ll be heading out.” Raymond clears his throat, trying to shake the dangerous road his thoughts would like to take by turning his attention to his boss.

“Have a drink with us, Ray.” Mickey offers. “I wanted to talk to you about some things I need to be brought in from the apartment. I’m not sure when I’ll be back in London this week.”

“Wait a minute. We’re not staying in London? I thought the countryside was just for the weekend.” The expression on Y/N’s face turns from confused to dubious. Raymond’s starting to learn her tells and he wonders whether this might turn into a confrontation.

“The apartment’s being redecorated. We’ll be staying here for a couple of months.”

“Oh no. No, no, no. I’m not staying here in the middle of nowhere, I’m going to London.”

“It’s not the middle of nowhere, Y/N. Oxford is 10 minutes by car.” Mickey’s tone holds an edge of desperation, which might only mean he was fully prepared for this discussion and knew exactly how it would go.

“As I was saying, in the middle of nowhere.” She nods. “I’m going to stay in London and I’ll see you when you come to work.”

“I’m not paying for you to stay in a hotel for two months just because you’re throwing a tantrum and can’t sit still.” Mickey snaps harshly, slamming his tumbler on the glass table.

Rosalind lets out a long sigh, and with a shake of her head, she makes her way out of the living room, patting her husband on the shoulder just as a precaution. It seems she was well aware of how this conversation would unfold before it even started. As for Raymond, although he’s a man that has seen nearly it all in his line of work and doesn’t get uncomfortable easily, he’d rather have taken his leave a while ago. Instead, he just takes a sit on the couch facing his boss, close enough to Y/N that he can smell the faint cherry scent of her skin. There are arguments thrown around, a familial fight that he mostly tunes out, in favour of thinking about that whiskey he recently bought at an auction.

“Fine, then I’ll stay at Raymond’s.” Y/N’s voice sharply cuts through his thoughts, snapping him to attention. “I’m sure he won’t mind.” She adds, an inquiry that would sound more like a statement, save for the expectant eyebrow.

Mickey smacks his lips, and sighs heavily, but he does turn to look at Ray. There’s a silent exchange between the boss and his righthand man, and Y/N idly wonders whether her brother would give in just to get out of this fight; he never was one to argue, especially because, for all his protectiveness, he’d also give her anything she’d want. Would she take advantage of that? Of course, she would, if just to not be stuck in the countryside, she thinks. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he won’t know every single thing that she’ll be up to, and she’s more than sure she can persuade Ray to keep quiet.

Her gaze shifts from her brother to Raymond, whose jaw is set and expression unreadable. She swings her feet on the floor, making sure to inch her skirt even higher. She’s more than aware that if she’d stand up her butt would nearly come out of the leather, but she doesn’t miss the almost imperceptible tick in his eye or how his hand slowly tightens on his glass.

“I have enough rooms. She can stay if she wants to.”

“See? Problem sorted.” That Cheshire smile she’s perfected makes another appearance, more than unsettling in the long shadows of the old mansion.

Raymond has the sense he’s either made the biggest mistake of his life, or just stepped into something he won’t be able to handle. Either way, judging by Mickey’s sigh, he would’ve preferred to have her under his own roof. However, they both know he can trust Raymond with her safety, if not with dampening her chaos a little.

“Don’t worry, Mickey.” She says, but she’s still looking at Ray. “I’m going to be a very good girl.” And with that promise, Raymond knows he’s in deep shit.

The heavy smoke that hangs in the air should be indication enough of what Y/N has been up to for the past half an hour while he was preparing the guest room and taking a quick shower. Raymond goes to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water while carefully inspecting her stance. She’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, her eyes glazed, yet fixed onto an unknown thought swirling through her mind. Her fingers unconsciously tap on the joint above the ashtray, before her head falls slowly on the backrest.

Raymond takes a sit next to her, ready to snap her out of it if need be, but she seems to have a quiet one, lazy and fuzzy, enough to mellow her out her typical vibrancy. He hands her the water and she takes it with her free hand, while the other one brings the joint to her lips once more. A slow inhale and then the release of smoke in one swift circle. She watches it expand, lose its tight form until it evaporates above them. She passes him the spliff without a word in his direction, without as much as a cursory glance. While he inhales, she takes a long sip of water and wets her lips, tongue darting out, pink in the dim light of the lamp in the corner.

“That’s some good shit.” She declares with evident satisfaction.

“Didn’t think you’d find it that fast.”

“Ray, Mickey is my brother. Do you really think I don’t have a sixth sense when it comes to it?” Her head lolls towards him and she blinks lazily at him. “Plus, the tea box? Really? I know we Americans don’t usually drink tea, but come on. I thought you’d put more effort in hiding that shit from me. I know it only took me 10 minutes to come back down, but still, are your expectations that low when it comes to me?”

“Oh, trust me, Y/N. You’ve exceeded any expectation I might have had of you.”

“Oh yeah?” Her smile spreads, turning into a smirk, but there isn’t much energy into it and it rather looks like a lopsided grin. “Care to elaborate on that?”

Raymond takes another puff, eyes narrowing in concentration. He can’t say whether it’s the relaxing effect taking a hold of his body, or just that she’s finally quiet, dimmed down somehow, less intimidating in a large t-shirt that looks suspiciously familiar, but he allows himself to stop trying to predict her responses.

“For some reason I thought you’d be a messy teenager who’s too shy to even make eye contact.”

“Which I was ten years ago.” She points out and he nods once in acknowledgement.

“But I was faced with this grown woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer. You’re still the spoiled prick I imagined though, just somehow differently.”

“You’re too sweet to me, babe.” Y/N smiles mockingly and with that, she closes her eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about or do I have to stroke your ego a little bit more?” Ray places his feet on the coffee table, inspecting his slippers this way and that, realising that this would be the first time a woman would spend more than one night in his house. He finds that oddly enough he doesn’t mind.

“Already demanding, huh?” Y/N takes back the joint, which gives him the opportunity to notice just how smooth her fingers are between his. “I have some meetings to attend to, and I’d rather my brother wouldn’t know. I was aware of the situation with the apartment and knew I’d get my way in the end, but I have to admit, bunking with you is an entirely added bonus.”

“Meetings?” Ray waits for more details, but she just hums. “Do you even know anyone in London?”

“Oh, Raymond, sweetheart.” Her eyes open and her head tilts to one side again so he can fully see the pout on her face. His train of thought is derailed for a second by his imagination that just offers him a flash of teeth biting into soft lips, erasing the mockery and delving into deeper depths. “I see your brother has kept you completely in the dark if you really don’t know what I’ve been up to. Truth be told, I’m not sure how much he knows.” She adds as an afterthought.

“And are you going to illuminate me?”

“I’m here to find him a new buyer. You all fucked up pretty badly last time, so I came to sort your shit out.”

Raymond smiles, although he can’t say he’s not intrigued. Here she is, an American woman who’s just graduated college, barely having stepped foot in this country, thinking she’ll do a better job than Mickey’s entire network system, combined with the entire expertise of their business.

“Big words coming from a little girl.”

“You think I’m joking?” It sounds more like a statement, than a question, and she looks at him, a tone of genuine surprise. “I’ve already warned you not to underestimate me, Ray.”

“Fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt then. But if you’ll fuck some shit up somehow, I’ll send you packing myself.”

“Aw, babe, you’re super cute when you’re acting all tough and mean.” Her hand finds his knee again, and he can feel the warmth through his joggers as she trails her fingers over his thigh. “I’d love it if you could show me what all those girls have been telling me you can do.”

“What girls?” He flexes his leg involuntarily, as a grunt escapes his lips, suddenly unable to form words.

“Raymond, I’ll tell you this one more time.” She stands up, stretching her arms and legs slowly like a cat, allowing Ray to see that that is indeed one of his t-shirts that she must’ve stolen when he let her wander through the house. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought that she was in his bedroom. “Don’t underestimate me. I know more than you think.”

And with that she scrunches his face in one of her hands and kisses him with a loud smack. Underneath the taste of weed, he can still smell the whiskey she’d nicked earlier, but most importantly one small part of his brain warns him that if he moves one inch there’ll be no coming back. So he clenches his jaw and closes his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself, trying with all his might not to throw his arms around her and pin her underneath him in an instant.

One of his legs is trapped between hers, but to keep his hand from gripping the back of her bare thigh would be more likely a titan’s strength, than a mere mortal’s like him. His fingers trace the muscles under the silky skin and she pushes her tongue out, demanding entrance. He pulls his head back, hand tightening on her leg but she’s too distracted to notice the pressure.

“Y/N, no.”

“Buzzkill.” She rolls her eyes, but straightens up again, grabbing the water bottle on the way out of the living room. “You’ll come around eventually.” She yells over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs to her bedroom.

“I have a feeling you’re right.” He mutters and starts rolling another joint.

#charlie hunnam x reader #raymond x reader #ray x reader #the gentlemen #raymond the gentlemen #the gentlemen 2020 #the gentlemen fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfic #charlie hunnam fic

183 notes · View notes