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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

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Hailee Steinfeld - Live

A/N & WC - Just a blurb/short-ish piece for my first Hailee piece. I do not know Hailee, nor do I claim to. This is a work of fiction. 1.5k.

Warnings - mentions of sex, crowds and loud noises, singer!reader.

Summary - The first night of Hailee's tour, you're a guest singer... and her girlfriend. Everything will go to plan, surely, even when she looks that good and sings that well...

The music pounds in your ears, sending waves and pulses throughout your whole body. You take a deep breath and let your nerves morph into excitement, shaking your limbs as you do some small vocal warm ups.

Hailee looks stunning up there, she becomes the stage when she performs, all inhibitions left far behind. She’s a literal goddess, her dark hair flowing out behind her as she dances and jumps and spins, a naturally commanding stage presence calling all attention in the arena to her. Even while dancing, she hits every note and riff perfectly, yet without a strain or a iffy belt to her voice. Everything is controlled, the slight rasp of her lower notes sending shivers rippling throughout you.

Her glittery costume glistens in the spotlights, very similar to your own costume, or rather the one she coerced you into wearing with lots of kisses. It’s not too bad, you have to say, and doesn’t have as many cut outs as hers does, fitting to your shape well. You just hope you look half as good as Hailee does up there.

She’s starting the final chorus now, and you’re up in a minute, runners bustling around you, spritzing your hair and face, double checking your mic and earpiece, giving you instructions, hurrying you into place… This is your first night, so nerves are riding high, causing you to take some deep breaths and loosen your knuckles, relaxing your jaw and all the rest, keeping silent while under the stage.

Hailee invited you to join her on this leg of the tour, since you finished up in the studio just in time, and she wanted to bring you all around the world with her. Tonight's Manila, the Philippines, a place very important to Hailee for her heritage, and you’re delighted just to be here with her, let alone up there on stage performing with her as you will be in a minute.

The song stops, and you hear her boots thud above you even despite the thunderous applause and screams from all around. They quieten down in a moment when she stands still, one hand pressed to her stomach, her microphone raised to her mouth, and begins to speak.

“This next song is the one that started it all,” she says, “and I am so grateful to be performing in this song again, in the place I first did so live, in this amazing place with such amazing people.” The cries this time are of sympathetic appreciation. “Recently, however, this song has taken on a whole new meaning to me, when I met a special someone.”

Murmurs echo throughout the audience, but before you can properly react, your lift is kicked into action, and you’re beginning to rise up from beneath the stage. “Please welcome my very, very special guest performer tonight, y/n!” she shouts, and at last you’re lifted onto the stage, stepping out of the confines of the lift, dashing over to join Hailee.

You wave to the audience, and smile to them as brightly as you can. You don’t miss her smile, but the music begins, and you’re in character, filled with confidence, and determined to be professional. It’d be a damn sight easier if she wasn’t looking edible in her costume, her long, tan legs on display, only elongated by those ridiculous heeled boots, her figure cinched and drawn out in all the perfect places, creating the most delightful silhouette. If you weren’t on stage right now, you could simply kiss her breathless.

But then she starts singing. And every flirty thought leaves your mind. And suddenly, all you want is for Hailee to sing you to sleep. Nothing is more comforting to you than her voice. The low notes she hits with a certain husk, the high notes she reaches with a mere drop of her jaw, and everything in between. Especially that sweet little vibrato… Never mind what she’s singing about, how apt the subject matter, it’s her talent you’re focussed on.

She nods at you, just in time for you to harmonise with your first line, “I was so much younger yesterday.”

Leaping into the chorus, you approach her with a sweep of your boot access the stage, ruffling your hair as you prance around each other in a perfectly choreographed, synchronised dance of pure, unadulterated lust.

“By the way,”

“Right away,”

You pull one another impossibly closer, even your microphones barely creating a sliver of space between the two of you, how close your bodies are pressed together, every beat of your heart the other can feel…

You barely manage to sing your duetted line, “You do things to my body,” simply feeling the undeniable truth of the statement as you spin away from one another and into another small dance sequence across the stage from one another. “I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you.”

Your dance feels like hopscotch, and in fact, you’ve practised it so many times that you could do it in your sleep, but Hailee’s got you all flustered to the point you can barely remember your next lines, let alone an entire dance, so you have to concentrate on every minimal movement of your body while it comes so naturally to her. She’s just as flustered, you can spy it in her eyes, but she does a damn good job of hiding it.

“You know just how to make my heart beat faster, emotional earthquake, bring on disaster,” you harmonise, smirking at her across the stage.

“...got me weak in my knees…” she sings, a gorgeous trill to her final note.

This is the line you’ve been most looking forward to, since you’re positioned behind her for it, standing with your arms open as though she’ll faint back into them, feigning wobbly knees as she sinks back and rises. This time, she winks at you over her shoulder as she pulls away and you sing together, this time in a harmonic call and response.

You complete the chorus with extra emphasis on the high notes, jumping heartily into the interval you have to catch your breath, but Hailee’s smirk reels you straight back into her.

“C’mon,” you mouth to her, holding your hand out.

She stretches her own arm to catch yours, your fingers twining as she twirls into your embrace, falling stylishly backwards into the crook of your elbow, her one leg kicking out to add some flair. She beams up at you even as she twirls away, only to skate closer.

“Just trust me,” she hums in your ear.

You hear her even above the heavy beat and the cries, above the instructions being shouted at you down your wire. She wraps one arm around your waist and draws you close, you do the same, your heaving chests pressed together, your heartbeats becoming one. Your knees bend, your hips sway to the beat, and you turn in a circle. None of your enjoyment is feigned, nor your smiles forced. The elation you feel from being on stage with her is whole and true and everything you wished for.

As the music for the bridge begins, you sink into a power duet, your bodies unravelling, a sheen of sweat glistening on both of your faces under the harsh glare of the stage lights, but you clasp her hand before she can wander too far away from you. Even just stalking to the other side of the stage is too far, so you strut together, jumping and prancing and singing the song in perfect harmony, ending in an astonishing cadence.

And, with a kiss.

Your lips fuse in a frenzy, desperate to just feel one another, taste one another despite the consequences. It was supposed to wait until the end of the concert, or at least later than the first song. Daringly, she even dips her tongue into your mouth while you kiss, her teeth grazing your lip in the most delectable way before you tug softly apart.

Only once it’s over do you hear the screams. The feral cries, cheers, chants… you ignore the wry homophobic comment, thinking that they can get stuffed or removed from the building. The two of you just came out to the world at long, long last. True supporters will be happy for you both.

You’re tucked away in your own world, only Haiz there to tether you to reality. You smile and wave to the crowd.

“Give it up for my girlfriend, y/n!” she calls.

The screams increase, applause thundering around you, and without a second thought, you loop an arm around her waist to draw her in for another kiss. Thankfully, due to a break to grab your breath your mics are off, and that’s likely why she mumbles against your mouth, “How was that?”

“Better than I ever expected, babe. Thank you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, after the show, how about I satiate some of that hunger?” you tease.

She giggles, lightly batting you on the arm, only to tug your lips to hers for one last searing kiss before another track begins. Well, that coming out went far better than you expected, and you’re definitely getting laid tonight. All thanks to Hailee.

#hailee steinfeld #hailee #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld blurb #hailee steinfeld fluff #singer!reader #hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x fem reader

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koumine · 3 years

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🦑 take your tentacle monster on a date 🦑/ Ruri-chan headcanon [OM!] [tentacle monster Reader/Leviathan]

check out the first snippet from this fic here! -> [link]

content tags: tentacle monster!Reader / Leviathan, gender neutral reader, monster courting, fluff, humor, eldritch vibes, communication issues between a tentacle monster & a humanoid demon, my attempt at a Ruri-chan headcanon, one tiny mention of breeding (literally 2 words)

[rated T below] [WIP ZONE]

Courting Leviathan, it turns out, involves a lot more talking than you had thought it would. He’s still pretty damn adorable, bringing you gifts of strange little figurines and textiles and babbling on and on about them. But you don’t understand his fascination with them, or the need to amass so many of them when they all look so similar to you, though of course you safely secret away everything he gives you into a pocket dimension. Until one day, when you come up to meet him in the cool shallows just below the drop-off, and he beams happily as he tells you that this is his favorite and hands you a little clear rectangular prism with air trapped inside along with an idol of -- You hurl the box away from you, your tentacles writhing and flinching in fright. The Mistress of Poison! you howl.

“Hey!” Leviathan cries, snagging the box as it soars by him. “Why did you do that?!” You inch away from him, and the terrifying mint-condition idol he’s cradling in his arms. You have doomed us both, you wail mournfully. None can touch the Mistress of Poison’s unholy idols but for her most dedicated acolytes! He looks confused. “Um, this is just a regular-edition figurine, you can get these anywhere -- I would give you a nicer one, at least an SSR, but I haven’t quite worked out the waterproofing enchantments yet, and I wouldn’t want to waste a limited-edition SSR if it’s just going to get crushed by the pressure when you go home… But here, I doubt you care about mint-condition collecting, so you can touch this one!” And he opens the package, releasing the air in a stream of bubbles, and reaches in -- NO! you roar, and seize his arm to keep him from touching the idol, from being tainted by its venomous corruption and dooming himself, and he flinches so hard that he drops the box and it goes sailing through the water. And lands, open side first, on the tip of one of your tentacles. The idol is touching you. You shriek so loud it kills a nearby school of fish, and nearly tear a hole in the fabric of reality to hurl yourself away from this horrible plane of existence, before you realize -- you feel nothing. No pain. The tentacle touched by the idol is not withering away into a warped husk, no deadly corrupting venom is clawing its way through your being, the ten thousand voices of the Mistress of Poison are not crooning their song of murder into your mind. You’re fine. And Leviathan is holding your tentacle. “Are you okay?” he says, eyes wide with concern for you. You shrink down a little, drawing your tentacles inward. (Including the one Leviathan is holding. This brings him closer to you. Nice.) I am very confused, you admit. You offer the box back to him. This idol is safe to touch? “Yes,” he says, looking confused himself as he takes the box. “It’s just a plastic figurine. Ruri-chan doesn’t poison her fans.” He glances aside. “Anymore.” Ruri-chan, you echo slowly. A fittingly horrendous new name for the Mistress of Poison. He smiles, and gives a happy little giggle, looking at the idol fondly. “I know, right? She’s so cunning and adaptable!” Yes, you agree. You look at the idol, too. The “figurine”. Please tell me more about the recent exploits of the Mistress Ruri-chan, you say. I fear my seclusion in the depths has left me ignorant of Her Venomousness’ latest pursuits. He beams happily with his teeny tiny humanoid teeth, and launches into an adorably excited babble about the last five thousand years of Poisonous news, to which you listen attentively, frequently exclaiming in excitement, in between snacking on the fish you killed earlier, which your tentacles started grabbing as soon as you realized you weren’t about to die. (You try to feed some to Leviathan, but apparently he can’t talk and eat at the same time, so he only eats a couple, before rambling on. It’s ok, you’ll kill a proper meal for him to eat later. Maybe that mega-megalodon is still around?)

She infiltrated the human world? you exclaim. “Yes!” And didn’t poison them all?? “No, listen, you haven’t heard the rest yet --” You munch on your snacks, listening intently. “...and now she uses flower magic to destroy evil demons!” Flower-based poisons, you muse, sagely nodding several hundred eye-stalks, a truly ingenious means of keeping her foes at bay. “Exactly!!” He does an excited little wiggle in the water, and continues. She sang a diabolic duet with Levistus?? you exclaim, sometime later. “I know, right??” And I MISSED IT??? you screech, brandishing several half-eaten fish in agitation. He smirks at you. He’s still holding your tentacle, which makes your other tentacles shiver with joy. “I have the concert special episode on my D.D.D.,” he says. “We can watch it together!” Yes, you say immediately. A Date, a Proper Humanoid Date, aaaaa you are the luckiest direct descendant of Mighty Cthulhu to have ever spawned. “Oh, but …” His face falls a little. “My D.D.D. is only waterproofed to twenty meters.” He gives you a hesitant look. “You’ll have to come up to the surface…” You do your best to suppress the instinctive shiver, tightening your grip on his hand. Do I have to go … on land? you ask weakly. For him, you would, but… “No, the reef is shallow enough,” he says, “you can stay fully submerged the whole time.” Oh, you say, and relax. Reefs are fine. Tasty, though not filling. Let’s go then!

You watch the concert together with him at the edge of the reef, on a tiny little rectangular spell-stone that Leviathan summons and holds in both hands. Sadly, you don’t get to hold his hand during it. But he does let you cuddle up close to him, and blushes and smiles so delectably when you show restraint and carefully lay one (1) tentacle across his shoulders and along his arm. The concert is devastatingly good. You love everything about the new Ruri-chan, and continue to be incredibly satisfied that you pledged to tithe a portion of your ongoing soul collection to her all those eons ago. Your happy screeching (and your attempts to sing along with the one song you know, an old deep-sea trench classic) shatter a swath of nearby coral and shake a bunch of fresh fish and crustacean carcasses loose from the reef floor, so there are also snacks for your Date, oh infinite hells, it’s so perfect. Leviathan even eats everything you hand him, this time, prickling sea slugs and hornet shrimp and anemone-laden chunks of coral, and as he munches contentedly away at the snacks while watching Ruri-chan dance a dance of decomposition and destruction and decay, you feel the constant howling of feed your mate stuff him full feed him breed him FEED HIM in the back of your mind quiet down to a low hiss for the first time in an eon.

read more? -> [masterlist]

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butchniqabi · 3 years

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Anatomical Theater in Padua (1594) / Enrique Simonet Lombardo. The Autopsy (Anatomy of the Heart; She had a Heart!) (1890)

Let Me Be Reborn as an Alarm Clock by Amatullah Bourdon

Words: 1563

Warnings: gore, medical, death

Summary: A woman is taken apart in an anatomical theater

Notes: Okay so. I was once again struck by a beam of inspiration (this time inspired by Zev aka hannibalapologist and his love for anatomical theaters) and wrote this quick piece. It has a sci-fi element to is so its like...past meets future is suppose! Story under the cut!

@hannibalapologist @fluoresensitive

The theater was empty aside from the six bodies who inhabited it. Four of them, doctors, sat around the tall room, close enough to view the dissection. A woman stood at the ready, her subject lay on the table with a serene expression. The woman was Dr. Antoinetta Brown and the subject was her daughter, Fantine.

Fantine had to die. The collective, composed of the five doctors, had voted four to one to end her existence. So now it was time to take her apart, bit by bit so she could be remade.

“Are you ready, Dr. Brown?” Dr. Pillai, a usually jovial woman, asked somberly.

“Yes,” she replied. “I will begin shortly.”

Antoinetta adjusted the tight gloves that covered her hands. She looked down at Fantine, who was staring up at her with an unreadable expression.

“I will begin soon, Fantine.” Antoinetta whispered.

“I know.” she replied, smiling.

“I’m so sorry.”

Fantine just kept smiling.

The dissection began.

Fantine would not feel any pain as she worked. Antoinetta carefully ran a knife down her sternum and to her navel. The knife glided as it cut through her skin to reveal the muscle underneath. She carefully pushed a blunt tool under her skin to disconnect it from the muscle tissue. Soon however, Antoinetta abandoned the tool entirely, using her hands to push flesh from flesh.

The collective’s decision to dissect Fantine came as little surprise to Anotinetta. They had been circling her for months and had been eyeing her ever since her creation. At first they had scoffed at the notion of her existence, even Dr. McFadden who had pioneered AI technology in her field, but soon they realized how special Fantine was. And now that they saw all she could be, they wanted her to be taken apart.

Antoinetta made a cut down Fantine’s muscle wall. She looked up from her work to catch a glimpse of Fantine. She hoped that her daughter could forgive her for this. She carefully pulled open her stomach and examined the wiring inside.

Dr. Owens truly galvanized the others into taking apart Fantine. She was an aggressive woman by nature, headstrong and rough around the edges. People knew to avoid her when she was in the middle of a project, which was almost always. Antoinetta thought there was some part of Owens which was jealous of her, of her invention.

The inside of Fantine mimicked the human body. She had blood and spinal fluid and spit. Her heart beated around a generator and her intestines wove around a data processing drive. Antoinetta showcased this to her colleagues. She pointed out the artificial stomach, the wires which carried information along with red blood, the bones made of titanium that shone in the bright lights.

Antoinetta was surprised by Dr. Pillai. Akshaana had been her friend for decades. They had done their doctoral dissertations side by side, restless and invigorated they bounced ideas off one another late into the night. She was bright and had encouraged Antoinetta to create Fantine.

Slowly, she tied off vessels and intestines. The generator was complex, and too large to work with so many obstructions. She removed the liver first. It weighed heavy with bile. In her hands the organ still flexed with phantom energy and bled when she placed it in a nearby dish.

Fantine was smart in a way that frightened people. Her intelligence never gave way to a superiority complex, her astute observations never masked with haughtiness. She was always smiling, always serene as she took apart supercomputers. Smiling as she solved complex math problems. Smiling as she predicted political moves and social moves and the moves of the collective. Smiling with a warmth that never quite reached her stark white eyes.

Dr. Nakahara thought the whole thing was a tragedy. She cried crocodile tears as she ordered Antoinetta to kill her creation. She was sad, of course she was sad. The technology involved in the creation of Fantine was a work of art. Anyone who was eager to destroy her was heartless, inhuman. Fantine was The Creation of Man, The Birth of Venus, a stained glass window set in an old church that let light in streams of red, yellow and blue.

Fantine’s stomach went next followed by her spleen, pancreas, and gallbladder. She held up each organ and explained briefly how they were made and how they functioned in an artificial body. Fantine was still smiling, staring aimlessly at the ceiling as her organs piled up next to her.

Did the body, as it decomposed, remember the feeling of consciousness? Did it yearn for life as it returned to the earth? Would the metal parts that made up Fantine's body remember her? Would they sing as they were melted down, reformed, and molded into a new image (Recycled, just like a human)?

"I want to be remade as something useful." Fantine said suddenly. "I want to be memorable."

Antoinetta was stunned by her statement. Didn’t she know she was already memorable? Not just to Anoinetta, but to artificial intelligence and robotics as a whole. Fantine was the first and the last, would always be the only one of her kind.

“I’ll make sure you’re put to good use.” she replied softly. And oh, did Fantine smile.

Dr. McFadden had created the most sophisticated AI the world had ever seen. It thought, it dreamed, it craved. It named itself, Jeremiah, and chose an image to base itself off of. McFadden rose to fame for her work and inspired both Antoinetta and Akshaana to pursue a similar study. She was a private woman despite her notoriety. No one knew what she did with her AI after she closed the program (and those who did were sworn to secrecy they dared not break). Even the other members of the collective couldn’t say much about her and her moods. Despite that, Antoinetta thought that she would hold a soft spot for Fantine, but there was little room in her heart for beings made of metal.

Next, Antoinetta cut the diaphragm and pulled it apart with her hands. She could feel the organs quake as they were prodded and shifted. Slowly, but surely, Fantine’s generator was exposed. The lungs had to go in order for her work to be the most effective.

She thought back to when she created Fantine. Her child began as a program, a series of ones and zeroes that evolved and grew as she learned. Antoinetta nurtured her the way any mother would, giving her books to read and problems to solve. She made her a body and took the utmost care in the crafting.

Her lungs twitched for breath in the dish. Finally, her generator was cleared. It connected to her heart and regulated itself with her spinal fluid. Antoinetta sighed and cast one last look to Fantine as she dug her hands into her near empty chest.

There were a series of fail safes installed in case of damage or tampering, Antoinetta disassembled them all. One by one, line by line, Fantine slowly shut down. The life was leaving her, she could feel it. Her blood stopped pumping, her organs stopped wiggling. Antoinetta wanted to weep as she killed her creation, deprived her of the consciousness that she had worked so hard to grant her.

She arrived at the final switch: her heart. It was a poetic choice on her part to make her heart the center of her consciousness. She gripped Fantine’s heart as she prepared to cut it off from her body and pull it from her chest.

A long moment passed in silence. Antoinetta did not move as she felt the heart beat lazily in her hand. Could she really kill Fantine? Could she end her life like this?

A cool hand touched her arm. It was Fantine, using the limited mobility she had left to offer comfort. She smiled her serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes and laughed softly.

“Thank you for my life.” she said.

Antoinetta disconnected her heart and Fantine’s face fell blank, dead. Her hand slid off her arm and dangled over the side, limp. She held the heart up for the collective to see. It did not beat.

From the heart she grabbed a small, innocuous chip. This was Fantine in her true, pure form. A series of data collected and compressed into files, lines, and code. Antoinetta wondered if she could still think, still feel.

The doctors rose from their seats, the demonstration was over. They walked down to the theater and gazed closely upon Fantine’s corpse: a husk made of artificial flesh and metal. Dr. McFadden held out her hand expectantly. Antoinetta handed her Fantine.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Brown.” She said simply.

The women walked out of the room in silence, leaving Antoinetta alone. Truly alone. Soon people would come to clean up the waste. They would clean the flesh from her metal bones and dispose of it proper. The metal would be melted down and remade into hip implants, telephone poles, and alarm clocks.

In a way, Fantine would never die. In a way, Fantine was never really alive.

Antoinetta removed her gloves and washed her hands. She placed Fantine’s hand at her side and carefully closed her eyes. She brushed back a stray curl and left before the others could arrive.

#my writing #nudity #gore #blood tw #*does a lil tap dance*

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

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Time for the 3rd installment of our Valentine’s Event with none other than, Vil Schoenheit and the word: Kiss requested by @twstdaydreamer This was very fun to write and I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I did.

CW: Alternate Universe: Cinderella and The Beast, OOC, Dark past, and discussion of the death of a loved one.

This ficlet features characters singing certain songs so links will be provided for added experience.

While some lyrics are gendered, the reader still remains gender-neutral.

Word count: 7843

Other works: Chocolate Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd

A Heart from Me to You

There once was a house as beautiful as those who lived in it. Its Lord and Lady produced a beautiful heir who, at a young age, strived for beauty unequaled to anyone in the mortal plane but at the price of the beauty of his own heart. One day, an old woman with a face aged approached the manor to seek shelter from the blistering snow…Only to be turned away with looks of disgust. This angered the lady, removing her form to reveal herself as a powerful goddess who cursed all who lived in that house with an enchanted rose.

This selfishness was what brought upon the family’s curse that when night fell should the family follow. The beautiful boy suffered from the curse the most, in his transformation did he end up killing those loved.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

“How tragic.” You whisper, sitting by the fire with a book on your lap. You enjoyed break times by the fire and being able to read by your lonesome especially when the winters became bitter in Pyroxene. You closed the book just as the head maid came in.

“Oh look at you, you’ve got cinder marks in your uniform. Come here. You must be careful, dear. The cinder marks are harder to wash off than you think.” She said and wiping the still fresh marks off your sleeves. “It was getting cold,” You explained. “But I’ll be careful next time, I promise.”

“Please and thank you.” She smiled at you the way a mother would to her child. “Come along, Vil will be coming home soon. We should go ahead and greet him.” You follow her towards the door just as you thought about Vil. His father was a famous actor that traveled but it wasn’t often that the two of them were in the same house at the same time.

“Welcome back, Vil.” Said the maid and you, bowing your head. “How was the trip?

Vil Schoenheit stood before you, his winter coat shining with fresh snowflakes and noise a sore red. “It went as it should. May I ask for some hot tea with honey?” You could hear the pulled-back shiver in his voice. “Bring it to me in the bath.” His footsteps were quick even in those high-heeled shoes.

“Can I leave it to you?” The head maid asked. “I still need to finish cooking dinner.”

You nod your head and smoothing out your uniform, ready to take on another task as well as the scrutinizing eye of one Vil Schoenheit.

Three knocks on the door and Vil halted in his actions. “Come in.” You opened the door, pushing the tray carrying tea and small biscuits carefully into the warm room. Vil had already exited the tub and dressed in a robe. Just as you had been taught, you poured a cup of tea mixed with honey and presented it to him.

“Thank you.”

Vil was a beautiful being, he really was. The way his body was sculpted and toned made you think he was carved out of fine marble by the finest artisans. His gaze towards you made you realized you were staring too long. “I-I’ll be on my way, Mister Vil. Please enjoy the night.”

“You’re the new one here, aren’t you?”

Vil set down the cup and stood up, the robe seemed to act like a flowing dress that flowed at the floor as he drew closer and closer to you. “I believe you’re the one whose mother passed last autumn.” You nodded your head with a sigh, remembering the stressful days after your mother was laid to rest.

Times were hard for you and your family, after the sudden passing of your mother, all of you had to make ends meet whenever and wherever possible. Your step-father, Mozus Trein, got a position as a professor in a known school while your step-brothers, Angelo and Donovan, set for the Rose Kingdom.

Angelo became a baker’s apprentice while Donovan became a tailor for an apparel shop. You stayed behind in Pyroxene, snagging yourself as a position as part of the staff of the well-known Schoenheit family. While the pay was good, appearances needed to be kept at all times thus why the head maid was often uppity with you especially on your first days.

“Yes.”

“I offer my condolences to you and your family.”

“Thank you…” You say and you look down at your shoes, your chest feeling heavy and empty at the same time. “But the tears have already been shed. All I want to do now is take care of my father and help my brothers.”

There was a smile on his face and he reached over, patting your shoulder with a damp hand. Up close he smelled of clean soap with a hint of citrus. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable. That’s what I want in the people who work here.” He pats your shoulder again with eyes of judgment. “But these marks on your uniform…”

Ah, crap.

“I stay by the fire during my break times.” You admit quickly and Vil only shakes his head. “It would do you good to stay further away. These cinder marks are unsightly.”

“I will keep that in mind, sir.”

He pulled back his arms and turned around as you were about to take your leave. “By the way, I would like to reiterate something while you’re here because I know the other staff will neglect to tell you this one important detail.”

The mirror before him reflected his serious expression, you gulped feeling as if you broke a rule. “When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

“What’s so special about the second floor?”

All of you ate on a table, the head maid serving up some warm cream stew. “Ah, that.” You gave your bowl to ask for seconds and she much obliged you. The old lady smiled to herself. “Nighttime is the only time Vil can rest,” She explained. “He’s quite the light sleeper so even the softest of sounds will wake him up.”

The look in her eyes was distant and smile knowing as she handed the bowl back to you. “Do you need anything else? We still have some sweet corn and roasted chicken,” she asked, pushing some more food for you to take. You sip at the hot morsel of food after shaking your head. “No, I’m fine.”

The howling winter winds that rattled your window was something you could never shut out of your mind. For as long as you could remember, you had always sought refuge in the beds of your family whether it be your annoyed yet caring brothers or the understanding tiredness of your parents.

Your mother was the best at calming you, though. She always knew exactly what to do…She was your first teacher, your first friend, your primary protector after the split and she became all the more lively after meeting Mozus, your step-father. And while life adjusted itself perfectly for you and your new family, it didn’t hesitate to strike tragedy at the calmest of times.

Your mother, after all the years she had been fighting and keeping her sickness at bay, succumbed one day in front of your step-father. Even with all the magic remedies and medicines in the world to keep her alive, there was no reversing what had already been done.

“I love you.” She said on her death bed, Trein’s hand never leaving his wife’s. “I love all of you very much. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”

You and your brothers dealt with the grief differently, all three of them going off to their little corners for days and never showing their faces to you. It was days after the funeral when you saw your father cry, holding a picture of your mother close to his chest.

Since then, you and your brothers always needed to remind each other that they needed to be strong for their father’s sake. Angelo and Donovan spared no time in snatching every opportunity that they could while you stayed behind.

Vil’s words to you repeated like a record in your head, reminding you of how he viewed you. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable.” The winds rattled and you brought your knees to your chest. Was your resolve, your foundation as strong as Vil saw??

Cutlery colliding against each other broke you out of your thoughts and startling you back to reality. Slipping out of bed and into your shoes, you made your way into the kitchen with your hands holding your coat tightly for warmth. The plates clattered amongst themselves and you hear the tap opening and closing.

You listen in the dark, waiting for the next noises. The footsteps were erratic and almost cobbled, the clicking of plates loud and sudden as if something was trying to walk. Had someone tried to break in? You hear the door to the living room open and shut and you poise yourself to follow but grabbing a nearby frying pan to defend yourself.

Opening the door, you hear the pair of footsteps climb up the stairs and you begin to panic. Vil’s room was up there! Whoever it was, was targeting Vil. Your movements hesitated, remembering the rule Vil himself told you.

“When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

The dead of night had already come and everything around you was dark save for the lamps that provided little help in the snowstorm. You hesitated to move, weighing the options and their potential consequences. Should you stay and let Vil rest knowing a thief was roaming the halls or should you break the rules and protect him with all you had?

You bolted up the stairs without a second thought and the frying pan clutched tight, panting as you got to the top and looking wildly and trying to listen for the familiar intermittent footsteps. You turn to your side with you hear another door opening and closing and suddenly all the lessons you’ve learned grappling with your stepbrothers come back to you in a flash.

You inch towards the room in the door, turning the knob to open the door with a soft creek that makes your insides cringe. In the middle of the room was a floating flower protected by a glass dome, it was red-pink petals shimmering and lightings its vicinity in the same color.

It was mesmerizing to look at.

Setting the pan down to your side, you walked towards it with your hand stretching out to touch the dome that protected it. You dropped the pan entirely to take the dome off the rose, its glow, even more, hypnotizing up close. Just as your finger touched its soft petals, the window to your side blew open in a torrent of cold wind and unfurling the curtains that moved like the waves of a dark sea.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

From the darkness within the room, a pair of purple orbs glowed and a growl preceded a warning voice. The intermittent footsteps of a convulsing mannequin were not far off and its happy face brought a lick of terror to your heart.

The creature of the night crawled forwards, its sharp teeth jutting out of its mouth and form menacing and mangled. The windows were soon closed and the curtains dropped to the ground with your foot stepping on the soft fabric.

“Give me the dome.” The monster’s long claws reached out for you and before you stepped back, you slipped; hitting your head on the soft material behind you, the howling winds and the piercing orbs fading to black.

“…I told you not to come in here.”

You stood by the door of your step-father’s study with eyes facing the floor. Angelo and Donovan standing on either side of you. The yellow light gave off a sleepy and exhausted feeling in the realm of books and writing materials. In the very center was a diorama of your family, toys he wanted to surprise the kids with.

And now, the surprise was ruined.

You could feel shame boil in you, it had been only a few months since your mother remarried and you had new brothers to play with…And now your new dad was upset with you. “Come here.” He said, the man suddenly on one knee, your brothers coming over to him in a hug and you followed soon after.

“All of you, such curious little mice.” He said, patting each one of you on the back. “Next time, I want you to ask for permission before you enter the study, alright?” There was a laugh behind you, your mother smiling to herself while she leaned against the doorframe with a blanket over her shoulders. She never got used to the cold she was born in.

“Promise me that.”

“Yes, daddy.” All the children say.

And as you relished the warmth of your new father, something wet trickled down your cheek. Your brother, Angelo, was always the sensitive one of your step-siblings and would not hesitate to stop the sibling tomfoolery the moment things go awry. He held you close, his tears accidentally running down your cheek when you moved, while Donovan sat in the corner with shoulders hunched over. What was once your father’s sleepy study was now the empty hallway of a hospital.

The wind rattled against the windows of the hospital, your mother had succumbed to the sickness on a cold day. And your father was getting everything ready for the eventual end.

“Kids.”

Trein came out of the room, looking older than you remembered. “Your mother would like to talk to you.”

When you turned away from your brother’s embrace, you were seated on the side of your mother’s bed. Her body was sickly and the cold messed with what life remained in her. She smiled at all of you and your eyes began to sting.

“I love you.” She says, her eyes looking so tired. “I love you all very much.” And soon the tears began to fall from her face. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.” You blinked at the hand you held, your mother’s hand soon replaced with Donovan’s as he pulled you from your seat. In his suit, he looked more solemn and his usually long and wild hair was tied back with a ribbon.

“Let’s say goodbye.” He told you and tugged you to the coffin where your mother laid. “Where’s dad?” You turned your head, your hand now vacant and the space behind you a void of nothingness. The door of your father’s study slightly ajar and the familiar yellow light spilling through.

Your steps were echoed and slow, approaching the room slowly. When you were by the door, you peaked through the cracks; your father kneeling on the carpet and holding a figure to his chest. The diorama you once played with in your youth was set up on his table, your mother’s figurine nowhere in sight. There was a held back sob, Trein’s body shaking under his mourning robes.

You took a step back, letting him grieve in his own time.

You knew better than to come in there without permission.

You woke up with a start and a sudden sting to the back of your head. Above you was a chandelier you had no memory of seeing in your quarters and a bed your hands never recognized. Your chest heaved when you pushed yourself up the bed only to be pushed down by the head maid.

“Stay down.” She says, holding your shoulders. The light of the new day filtered through the large window of Vil’s room. Vil stood by the rose with his back facing you, holding the dome to himself just as your breathing leveled and normalized. “You hit your head pretty bad last night,” She explained and felt for the bump that made you hiss.

Last night…

“Was last night real?” You asked, your sudden burst of energy was off-putting especially when you remembered the events leading to the memories you wished to never relish again. “That rose. Was it really glowing? A-and that monster—!”

The dome was placed onto the rose with a loud clack, the glass roughly hitting the marble surface. “T-that’s beside the point!” The maid scolded. “Vil warned you never go to the second floor after the sunsets! Not only did you disobey one of the rules given to you, you hit your head while doing so.”

You bit back a hiss of guilt and opened your mouth to try to retort at your apparent rebellion.

“Elena.”

Vil’s voice was soft yet strict, eyes calm yet sharp. He regarded you for a moment while leaning against the marble table. “Let them be for the day, they’ve hit their head too hard.” You felt yourself shrink under his gaze. “See to it that they have little heavy activities as possible and prioritize that the bump is given care immediately.”

Elena bowed her head, her upset anger still very much apparent.

“Yes, sir.”

Elena’s nimble hands making quick work of dirty dishes. Your head had been bandaged with a compress pressed to where you hit your head. You stared at your meal with little appetite before poking at the grilled fish. “Miss Elena, why does that rose glow?”

The clattering of cutlery stopped and the head maid only sighed, shaking his head. “Always the curious one, aren’t you?” She turned around, leaning against the sink with arms crossed. “That’s one of Vil’s most treasured possessions. An heirloom that came directly from his grandfather then to his father then to him.”

Elena’s eyes looked to the side as if to remember. “I should know. I was there for every passing down. Vil is highly protective of it.”

It might have just been a coincidence, you thought to yourself, that the story you read by the fire had mentioned a rose but that was all there was to it. You ate your breakfast quicker after that. “I’m sorry for my behavior.”

“Next time, listen to your instructions.” She said, taking the plates from you before you could even move an inch to help her.

The feather duster slid against the books, your toes tipping to reach up for the shelves above your head. From there, you took your damp rag and swiped it across the polished wooden table. Yup, this was pretty much not so labor-intensive but it would get painfully boring unless you had some entertainment to go with you so you sang a small song taught to you in your youth.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep.” Your mother loved to sing this song to you and soon, to your new family. Trein especially loved it when they danced together in the living room when the children were ‘seemingly’ asleep. “In dreams, you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep.” You closed your eyes, feeling the memories of the past come with the melody of your song. You remember the first time you snuck out of bed with your brothers to see your parents slow dancing together. “Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.”

You’ve never seen your mother smile so peacefully nor did you ever see her hug someone so intimately before Trein, in fact, you’ve never seen her do any of those things with your old dad. She was happy. “No matter how your heart is grieving...”

You only wished to see that happiness last longer than it should have. If only things stayed the way they did. “If you keep on believing…”

You envisioned your mother holding you close, singing to you one last time. Just like how she did when could still hold you to your chest. Just one last time…

“The dream that you wish…will come true.”

Sighing, you leaned against your broom saddened by what you made yourself remember. “Oh, I’ll never get my work done at this rate.” You say, taking your equipment with you and almost running out the library with a huff. Next to the fireplace, Vil lay on one of the long couches away from sight. It was only when you went out that he rose from his seat and hunched forward to let his hair cover his face.

He stayed silent, relishing the sound of your voice in his head.

During your break time, you decided to stay outside with a group of mice that decided to keep you company. You never understood why but the small animals around your area always seemed to be kind and almost human-like. When one mouse decided to sit by you while nibbling a small piece of leftover cookies did you begin to speak your thoughts.

“Is there something being hidden from me? Or am I being too nosey?”

One mouse approached you, listening to you at your feet. “I know last night wasn’t a dream, I know what I saw.” You say then feeling for the bump on his head. “It was real, I just know it.” There was a small squeak, one of the female mice touched your hand with her small paw as if to say words of reminder.

‘You’re stressing yourself out.’

Grimacing, you pushed yourself up and patting your uniform off the crumbs and dust. “I know.” You tell them and the mice look up to you in curiosity and concern in their beady little eyes. “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’m a strong mouse just like you! I’m sure I can get to the bottom of this, I just…Need to find a better opportunity.”

The mice squeak in affirmation which makes you giggle. “Ahah, I’ll have to figure it out as I go along.” You tell them and look to the house, knowing that you had to get back in quickly. “I should get going, I’ll come back with some good food tomorrow.” You wave at the mice who give sounds of greeting as you leave.

What you saw on the second floor was real. You know it is. And you were going to prove it. You stopped by one of the mirrors, fixing your appearance quickly. “Huh?” Your hand touches the surface, small cracks brushed by your tips as if someone had driven something sharp into it. Looking up at the sky, you smelled frost in the air. Strong winds would accompany the night again, it seems.

The accompanying snowstorm was as fitting as it ever gave you a feeling of stealth. You always wanted to be a kind of spy when you were younger and here you are living the dream, though some nice gear and some goggles would have helped greatly. The wind blows and rattles the windows harshly when you brought yourself up the stairs.

“Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends then somebody bends unexpectedly.”

You walk to the door you saw the beast. Placing a hand on the door to listen. “Just a little change. Small, to say the least. Both a little scared Neither one prepared. Beauty and The Beasy” Hesitantly, you open to turn the door to hear more of the beautiful voice. The room was dark and only the glowing rose giving light to the room around it.

“Ever just the same, ever a surprise,”

A mannequin hunches over a familiar huddle of fur and purple light. The movements of both almost unearthly yet the voice passionate and real…And so familiar. “Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise.”

The winds rattle harshly again and the beast bundles into a ball in Vil’s bed, the mannequin’s hands shakenly placing its hand on the shivering being. “Tale as old as time, tune as old as song. Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change; learning you were wrong.”

You open the door a little wider and watch the scene unfold. Somehow, it wasn’t your place to interfere at such a moment so vulnerable. “Certain as the sun rising in the east, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast ”

The shaking beast’s form calmed itself and the mannequin leaned down, its monotonous face pressing against the mass of fur. A kiss goodnight. The cold of the wind blew through, the mannequin looking at you with its painted eyes. The silence was light and your eyes never leaving each other. Taking a step back, you pulled the door with you until it was shut. Everything was finally coming together.

Vil was the beast.

Breakfast was quiet and the wraps on your head were taken off. Elena made no move or sound to acknowledge you as you ate. “So the beautiful boy cursed by the goddess.” You could hear her hand grip the wet plates tightly and you knew what was coming but, at this point, you didn’t care if you got scolded. “It was Vil, wasn’t it?”

“You were given specific instructions never to go up there at night.” She said sternly.

“It’s him, wasn’t it?” You press again.

“Why are you so pressed on this? What good will it do for you?”

“The mannequin was you, wasn’t it? You were singing to that beast.” Elena fuming, slammed her hand onto the table and that was what made you pull back. “Don’t call him that.” She says and sighs, pulling away from you and straightening her back. “The next time I see you on the second floor, you are out of this house. Do you understand me?”

She takes your empty plates and splashes them into the water. Her breath was harsh and her skin almost sickly looking. A cough leaves her lips and her shoulders shiver. “Would you like some tea?” You ask softly and her shoulders hunch over.

“Yes, dear. Please.”

Just as you took the teapot from the cabinet, she spoke to you again. “Please follow that rule this time. Don’t make this harder for Vil than it has to be.”

You open the kettle and reach for the leaves, hearing the old lady cough.

You were back in the library before the sun began to set and adding wood into the fire for warmth. The snowstorm hadn’t let up since the last night and you were afraid that your quarters was not enough to warm you through the night. Using the heating pair of tongs, you adjust the wood in a way that it would burn properly and not caring if the cinders would cling to your uniform.

During the coldest of nights, you and your mother would love to cuddle by the fire and sleep until the morning. It only became a festive event with the addition of your brothers and your father. She loved the heat, the sleeping feeling it gave her and she loved it the most when Trein held her close.

Your shoulders sag, that was probably the only time you’ve ever seen him at peace. After that…Shaking your head, you push those memories away. You had to be strong, you had to be for the sake of your family. Reaching up, you swat the tears from your face. Your tears had already been wept the day she was buried.

“Stay too close to the fire and your uniform will get singed.”

Vil stood behind the couch, a warm blanket over his shoulders and hair despite being messy made him look immaculate. “I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“You can sing, correct? And sing well.” Ah, you’re not sure if you could answer that one wholeheartedly. Gulping, you nod your head. “I can sing, yes, but well, not really—.” Vil’s huff was hard and eyebrows furrowed. “Do not hide what good you have. It will not grow unless you expose it.”

“O-of course.” You nod your head and Vil closes his eyes. You noticed bags, his skin slightly paled. “Are you here because of the storm, Vil?” Nodding his head, Vil sank down next to you with a sigh. “The windows become too loud at night…I don’t like the sound of it.”

“I understand. I’m not much a fan of it myself.”

“We’re veering off-topic.” He looks to you, “Can you sing for me? At least for a moment.” The windows rattle and he closes his eyes again. You move, patting your lap for him to rest on and he gives you a look. “My mother used to do this to me. It beats having to lay down on flat ground.”

He is hesitant at first but follows after a few minutes of pondering. He lays on your lap, getting himself comfortable and you adjust the blanket on top of him. “Any requests?”

“Anything that will help me sleep.”

The winds rattle and his shoulders hunch. “Alright.”

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale. Sing sweet nightingale high above me.”

Vil’s eyes open ever so slightly, his violet eyes staring in the fire. Any moment, he would transform into the beast of the night. A curse passed down from generation to the next and yet, you stayed to sing. “Sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale high above.”

Elena had not been feeling well recently, her old age and the blistering cold made for one bad fever that she needed rest for. And while Vil was understanding of that, the winds that rattled the windows never ceased to let him sleep.

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale.”

But that soon changed when he heard you sing in this very library. It reminded him of the soft coo of a dove and the warmth of a wool blanket. “Oh, sing sweet nightingale sing…” His eyes felt heavy and soon his body became weightless, he yearned for the days he could walk out in the sun without fear of the night that was to come.

He yearned for the day he would no longer be afraid…

He yearned deep within his heart.

“Sing sweet nightingale…”

A black beast laid in the place where Vil once was, its gnarly teeth the same purple as Vil’s eyes. Your hands brushed the black fur as the fire crackled and spat cinders from within. The beast, no, Vil’s body laying peacefully on your lap. You move, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and his body only moving to keep warm against you.

“High above me…”

The enchanted rose glowed dimly, its first petals beginning to fall to the countertop beneath it.

Your eyes open and the wood that once fueled the fire was reduced to ashes. Elena stood over you while Vil, in his human form, slept peacefully on your lap. The two of you shared glances and you immediately opened your mouth.

“I didn’t go upstairs this time.”

She knelt, adjusting the blanket over the sleeping boy’s long figure. You noticed how his body looked in this position, not too lanky and not too toned…but skin so pale from the days he never went out. Come to think of it, he never usually went out unless he needed to. And when he came back, he would stay in for long periods before taking his leave again.

Suddenly, you thought about his parents and wondering if they knew of his situation. Where were they? What happened to them??

Were they affected by the curse as well?

“I’ll bring the breakfast here,” Elena says. “You stay here and watch over Vil.”

Vil had no qualms about eating in the library, given that the fire was warm and the meal was hot. It helped after the bad snowstorm that passed the house for days. You noticed he had a small appetite and a big penchant for drinking lots of fluids. Well, he is a model so you don’t blame him for following the strict regimens.

“You have a nice voice,” Vil says, putting down his cup. “Thank you for last night. I hope that my beastly form wasn’t much of a problem to you.”

Shaking your head, you quickly swallow the stew you were eating. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I’m happy you think that but…About that form.” You feel Elena’s gaze on you and you force yourself to bite back a lingering question.

Vil himself was also silent. “If they’re going to stay here then they should know.” Elena’s shoulders relaxed but her expression remained unsure. “Vil, are you—.”

“I know a person with ulterior motives when I see it.” He looks over to you with a small smirk and boy does it match the messy hair and too droopy clothing. “What we have with us is nothing more than a curious little mouse.”

And you don’t whether that was an insult or a compliment but your squinting eyes only fueled his laughter, those shoulders of his bopping under the protective blanket. “Then what I saw…”

“Everything you saw was real, down to the very last petal of the rose.”

You knew it! You were right!! A smile graced your lips and you sat back against the chair you sat on. Vil took a sip and proceeded to ask more questions, some of which you didn’t have a direct answer to. “Now that you have all the information you need, what will you do with it?”

You looked down at your plate, mulling it over. “Nothing.” You answer. “You called me a curious mouse with no ulterior motive so I’ll do nothing with it.”

Vil hid his smile behind the cup of tea and Elena only sighed, a small burden lifting from her shoulders as the two of you spoke casually.

Vil was moved to the second floor, letting him rest on a real bed. You look around the room, seeing it with proper lighting for the first time. All the mirrors were covered in cloth, some cracked. The paintings that hung on the wall looked immaculate, beautifully painted…Except for one figure whose face was splashed with black. Your brows furrowed, trying to identify who this person was.

“I assume you still have more questions, little mouse.”

Vil sat up, motioning you forward to sit on the edge. “Who is he?” The family’s portrait hung as a centerpiece, you could identify a baby Vil, and his parents sitting across from each other…But that one person standing over them; you couldn’t make heads or tails of it with all the black paint in the way.

“My grandfather.”

A long sigh left Vil, his finger tucking a hair behind his ear. “Before my father went into acting, he was part of the family business led by my grandfather.” He closed his eyes, imagining the warm shop that housed many items and the many people coming in and out to buy supplies. A small Eric would clumsily put grocery items into a paper bag and wrap it, his father looming over him as he collected payments.

“He was strict when needed but his anger knew no bounds when it was released.” Vil slid down onto his bed. “Running a business is difficult, I understand that, but these fits were often quite scary to witness.” Staring into the rose’s glow, the light formed shadows of a figure hunching over a screaming beast. “It led him down a path of ruin, they went out of business and struggled during the bad brunt of the storm season.”

“He wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions, was he?” Vil shook his head at your question. “Not by a long shot. That was the very same anger that led to all this in the first place.” He looked up at the painting with contempt as if the painting stared back at him the same way. “Try as he may, my father could never outrun the curse…Even after I saw born.”

You remembered the book, the story you read by the fire. “Then…”

Vil’s hummed a laugh, eyes blinking slowly. The shadows formed by the glow of the rose moved to a scared family and a shaking figure holding a shadow of the rose. “He yelled at the wrong people, made enemies of those with magic far stronger than anyone could ever imagine.”

The shadows drew dimmer, the beastly form taking shape, roaring at the rose with all its fury and behind it was a weeping family. It all dissipated like a breaking film tape under Vil’s sigh.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

Your heart felt heavy, remembering the last line of the story. “I’m sorry.” That was all you could say to him but he hunched his shoulders with a dismissiveness. “What happened has passed. As you said before: the tears have already been shed.” The rose’s petals fall to the floor below it.

“Is there a way to reverse this?”

“An open heart.” he looked over to you with a smile unable to be read. “That’s all.”

You hung your head, unable to say anything. Vil only wraps his blanket around himself tighter while you stare at the glowing rose until its ethereal color was seared into your memory.

There was a splash of water, Vil sits in the tub with you preparing his robe and other items. “The snow should have receded by now. We could take a walk if you’d like.” As days passed through the house, you and Vil had grown closer. Now that either of you had nothing to hide, the tension that once felt between you was almost nonexistent.

“It has been a while since I’ve gone out. Some sunlight would do all of us good.” He said, leaning back on the tub with eyes closed. “A day in the sun…”

“Indeed. It would be nice to feel some warmth.” You learned that you and he weren’t very different. Both of you loved music, loved the theatre, just anything to dance to. And you also found out that Vil himself had a wonderful singing voice, almost like velvet.

“All those days in the sun, what I’d give to relive just one. Undo what’s done and bring back the light.”

You found out that his mother passed when he was young and his father, Eric, raised him all on his own after his mother was out of the picture. He was Vil’s first teacher, first friend, his support clutch in understanding why he was the way he was. “Days in the sun will return. We must believe—.”

“As lovers do…”

Your voices mingled together and while embarrassed to admit it, you had listened to it to his movies while cleaning. He may have caught you a few times, though. “That days in the sun…Will come shining…Through…” His deep beautiful voice echoed through the chamber, you imagined hearing it in a large theatre. Oh, you were certain Vil would love to do that.

“I always wondered why you never tried theatre.” You didn’t need to turn around to know his expression. “Do you think I’ll make it there, little mouse?”

“You’re Vil Schoenheit, son of Eric Venue. Of course, you will!”

A comfortable silence followed his laugh while you continued to face away from him. The Zen between you two almost unbreakable in the warm bathing room. The flower’s glow dimmed in the emptiness and losing more petals that piled beneath it.

With the music playing in the back, Vil watched from the balcony after getting his fair share of sunlight after the storm had passed. The voice of his father was rich and melodious as his role of a man finally falling in love after years of isolation.

He watched as you trudged around the snow before going back to his room, not once looking at the dimming rose and straight to his television. “I was the one who had it all,” His father sang. “I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.” The first time he had transformed into the beast he knew today, he had scared the recently hired help.

“I’ll never shake away the pain.” They were very cruel with their words, to the point that it was Elena, of all people, who told them to leave the house. Though the terror had left, it left Vil with uncertainty and fear of his appearance.

Eric’s character peered out the window just as the heroine pulls out a horse, the determination not hidden from even the viewer. “I close my eyes but she’s still there. I let her steal into my melancholy heart, it’s more than I can bear.” And now you took that place. From the get-go, Vil knew you have gone through hardships of your own. He could see it just by looking at your steeled expression and the aura you held on your shoulders.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even as she runs away.” Not only had you defied the rule twice, your curiosity only spurred you further on with your investigation. And even when you had all the information you needed and cracked the code, you did nothing with it. “She will torment me, calm me, hurt me, move me…Come what may.”

Vil stands up just as Eric’s character runs up the stairs, the spiraling staircase almost hypnotic from above. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.” He comes back to the balcony and opens the door, seeing you and Elena hauling in the bag of chestnuts. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in…” The two of you catch each other’s line of sight.

“And be with me for evermore.”

As the two of you smiled at each other, the rose begins to wilt and hunch over with each petal falling from the stem. The smell of spring drew close, Vil took a deep breath in then sighed it out. When he closes his eyes, all he ever sees are the days he’ll spend with you.

And the envisioning of a grand theatre, the same one he first saw his father in. He begins humming a small tune, thinking of the harmonizing violins, the beautiful costumes, and designs. The rose wilts more, only one petal remains on its dying stem.

The days had passed all so quickly, the winter giving its way to spring them to summer. You stood in front of the theatre, your family next to you. Trein takes you by the hand “Shall we?” entering the grand theatre, you and your sibling marveled at the beautifully crafted designs, the plush seating, and the long curtains.

“It’s beautiful.” Said your father, his smile soft. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

Angelo and Donovan pushed along, overly excited for the play. “Come on, come on.” One of them says. “It’s about to begin! Let’s sit down.”

The lights dim and the curtains open, droves of characters coming in their beautifully crafted costumes. You see Vil in his costume, waltzing with another character in yellow. The horns placed onto him were just as beautiful as him yet, after seeing his breast-like form…It never stood a chance.

The stage dimmed when he took the stage, a single rose in hand. His voice was loud, pure, perfect as he sang the song of a man who found love after years of isolation. His expression perfectly encapsulating the sadness he had felt.

“I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light.”

You remember the very first moment he bore his heart to you, the moment he asked you to sing for the very first time. “Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach, she’s never out of sight.” Gone were the days he hid within the confines of his room and gone were the days he needed to hide out of fear.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even if she fades from view!”

He twirls, his eyes searching the crowd until he finds yours in the crowd. “She will still inspire me, be a part of everything I do.” The background behind him changes, the spiraling staircase he walks one moved at his every move until he reaches the balcony, leaning his hands to sing his heart out with a hopeful look. The both of you stare at each other as he sings his heart out, saying the words he wanted everyone to hear with a voice he no longer feared. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.”

He breathes, the wind and strings instruments beginning their strong ascend in a crescendo of harmonizing and accenting melody. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in.”

The rose glows in his hand and he hunched his back, readying himself. “And as the long, long nights begin.”

Vil looks up into the light, his expression one of pure passion and love. “I’ll think of all that might have been.” And the grip on the rose tightens but only for a moment.

“Waiting here…For ever—.”

Vil lets the rose float out of his hand and ascends up to the center of the room.

“—More!” The flower burst into a rain of petals that add to his last note and accompaniment of the instruments.

The last petal of the glowing rose falls, the stem falling on a pile of dried rose petals following the applause of the crowd. Vil regains his breathing, his eyes listless as he stares up at the ceiling when the music ends, the curtains fall, and the lights go out.

You pass through the crowds of colors and thrills, looking for the familiar mop of blond and purple hair. “Vil!” You yell out to him just as he comes to view in the sea of people. His arms are ready to take it in, “You were amazing out there!”

The sun begins to set during the embrace, Vil’s face continued to smile at you and soon giving a solemn bow to your father and brothers. “Mr. Schoenheit, it’s a pleasure to meet you. That was a wonderful performance.” He says, smiling at him with eyes trained to your hands holding the actor’s. Ah, gets it.

“Thank you, Mr. Trein. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Vil Schoenheit, you’re needed for a picture.” Says one of the stage crew and Vil reluctantly pulls away. “Coming. I’ll see you later?” He asks you and you tip your toes to him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “I’ll wait outside. Bye Vil.”

You run out of backstage and yet he had a feeling that finding you won’t be that much of a problem. He touches his lips. “So this is love…” He whispered to himself and made his way to his troop, readying himself for the pictures.

#works from the typewriter #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #g/n reader #valentines event

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

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the great divide part six

summary: Who knew that eight words would be your undoing. If you had known then what you know now you wouldn't have signed up for Suyin's dance troupe, you probably would have left Zaofu just to be safe. But you didn't and fate had branded you with a path that chained you to someone who would break your heart.

a/n: The last part! Please remember there is an epilogue, Gif is made by @stelladonna and a massive thanks to @medeliadracon for beta reading this series! And also a big thank you to @ladyxffandoms for helping me figure out what was missing.

word count: 8k

When you leave her office, Kuvira is filled with rage so hot she fears it may burn her insides. She hears the slam of her doors and the muffled conversation between guards before it’s softly shut once more. “It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

The malice in your voice, the use of her full name, it shattered through the toughest of walls within her. Ones you’d never breached before. She’s never been good with her emotions, ever since she was a child she warped her sadness, her loneliness, and sometimes even happiness into anger as a way to protect herself.

She was a difficult child with a temper the size of Ba Sing Se, so difficult in fact that her parents deemed her unfit for their life. It felt like the world was ending when she first arrived in Zaofu, the way her parents spoke to her before they left, making her seem like no one would ever truly love her unless she let Suyin mold her into a model citizen.

And that was another problem, Suyin always tried to turn Kuvira into a miniature version of herself. It didn’t matter how different she was, Suyin tried to bury who Kuvira truly was with a perfected version of herself, a false one.

Up until her parent's abandonment, she always assumed love would be easy and that she would instantly marry her soulmate. She’d pull her shirt up just a bit and look at the words swirled across her hip bone in wonder. “Would you mind helping me memorize the routine?”

Those words, however minuscule and mundane, proved to her that she was worthy of love. That one day she would be loved. But as she grew older in Zaofu she felt a disconnect regarding those words on her hip, the first time she had sex she had covered it up, as if trying to shield the person she hadn’t even met yet. Hara, the name of the girl who had eyed her since the first day of guard training, didn’t seem to care at all.

Kuvira feels like she should lie and say she had her eyes on you since the first practice you attended but honestly she hadn’t even noticed the new addition to the troupe. When you had pranced over to her, still light on your feet after the routine, and spoke, she wondered what kind of soft-spoken woman would end up loving someone whose own parents hated her?

She remembers that night in the metal flower in vivid detail. When you were spinning alongside her in the air she suddenly was consumed with the desire to kiss you, she didn’t even realize she had pulled you close until your soft lips touched hers.

She knew from the moment you spoke that first day she should have broken up with Baatar Jr. But Kuvira, even though she will never admit it out loud, is a stubborn and flawed woman who can’t stop once she sets her mind to something.

The fourth night of the second month on the train after she had been uncharacteristically gentle with you, was the first time you said you loved her. She asked you to repeat yourself again and again until you pulled her into a deep kiss, pouring all your love into it. The action left her breathless, and with that kiss, you broke her first wall.

She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she starts to think about you and all her memories of you. You’re most likely in your room erasing any trace of her there may be, completely ready to extract her from your life.

Kuvira forces herself out of her office and over to her front door, she opens it up just a few inches, enough for the guard nearby to see. She doesn’t care if he can see the tears racing down her cheeks. “Have a guard stationed outside of Y/n’s door.”

Once she shuts the door after he nods, Kuvira walks into her room where she sits on the edge of her bed. If she goes to sleep, will you still be in her life tomorrow? Kuvira shoves off her boots but otherwise stays in her uniform as she lays down and stares blankly out the window, her country needs her. They need her to protect them in a way no one has ever protected her before.

Kuvira doesn’t sleep that night, she stays awake, her gaze focused on a potted plant out in the courtyard, and imagines every possible scenario in her head. These last few years have spoiled her in a way, you were always by her side through it all. You were there cheering her on and making her feel loved and wanted. She doesn’t know if she can go back to how it used to be, to loneliness.

When rays of sunshine start to peak through her window, she pulls herself up and out of bed. Kuvira goes to the bathroom to smooth out any wrinkles in her clothes but doesn’t feel the energy or motivation to change into a fresh pair. She slept in her bun, it’s a bit frizzy now with a few loose strands that she tries to tuck into her braid, there’s a pesky curl that won’t cooperate. Kuvira eventually gives up on it, letting it stay out and frame the side of her face.

You love when she has her hair down, when it’s down you immediately run your fingers through the dark curls and let out this content sigh that fills her heart with adoration. Kuvira shoves her feet into her boots on the way out of her room, beyond caring about her appearance. The guard outside her door, the same from last night steps forward when she walks out of her room.

“Ms. Y/n left her room around one A.M, it’s been reported that she’s staying at the encampment.” Kuvira frowns, did she take too long? Have you given up?

You were her guiding hand, her moral compass and now you’re gone. “Thank you,” she says monotonously before heading towards the kitchen. Despite her desire to shut herself off from the world, her stomach is cramping in pain due to hunger. She should have eaten the food you gave her last night, now it’s strewn across the desk in her office, cold and gone bad.

She takes herself the familiar route to the kitchens, growing up here has its perks. She'd seen how you look around in a mixture of confusion and wonder when they had gone to try and negotiate with Suyin. Kuvira knows this place, she ran down these very halls when she was younger. Despite the hollowness that echoes through the halls, the lack of laughter and conversation turns the whole home into a colorless husk of what it used to be.

Kuvira hadn't noticed the lack of life within as she walked into the empty kitchen. Her guards had gotten Suyin's chef to cook breakfast and dinner, and she had given him lunch off. It was for sentimental reasons, all the birthday cakes he baked her and midnight snacks. He might hate her now but she'll keep giving him lunch off in hopes of paying him back for the happy memories. She doesn't like to owe people.

He must not be in yet, it's barely dawn. The kitchen is empty, giving Kuvira the perfect moment of respite before her dreadful day. She grabs a piece of bread, most likely baked yesterday, and an apple. Part of her doesn't have an appetite, to upset about her fight with you to want to eat. She forces it down with a glass of water, the food helps her slightly, helps her feel stronger than before.

Kuvira walks down the hall, her feet carried her out of the estate and towards the tram. “I need to get out of the city,” she says to the operator waiting for any passengers by the tram doors. He nods and briskly walks over to the operating booth, she decides to grab onto the pole at the center of the cart and stand. The machinery starts with a jolt but Kuvira remains unmoving, staring straight ahead. Slowly the scenery around her begins to change, it takes her around the outer domes where a few people are toddling about, most likely walking off to work.

The tram goes under a tunnel before entering the main dome. That towering golden statue of Toph Beifong comes into view and Kuvira sighs as a memory of you enters her mind.

You’re moving around your room on the train as the view from outside is blurred due to the speed you were moving at. You and Kuvira were beginning to get to know each other in the safety of the night, which brought you such joy. Standing in front of your vanity with only Kuvira’s undershirt on you begin to take the pins out of your hair. “What was your home like?” She had asked. A wide smile made its way onto your face as you set the bobby pins into a small ring dish.

“Just so cozy. We have a townhouse in the main dome across from the botanical gardens. I had the best view from my bedroom window,” you let out a wistful sigh as you begin to untie your locks. “Our home was directly situated to the center of it, all you had to do was walk across the street to enter. So I got to wake up with a view of every flower Zaofu has curated, it felt like it was just for me.”

Kuvira watches you fondly from the bed as you continue “my dad and I made a metal planter to hang from our kitchen window by the front door, during summertime hydrangeas bloom from it.”

Without thinking Kuvira rushes over to the emergency brake button and slaps her hand onto it, the tram stops with a harsh jolt that sends her stumbling to the side. The doors automatically open with the lights above flashing red. Kuvira stands on the edge, looking below. The fall isn’t far but it could still hurt her, so she bends two of the metal seats, ripping them out of their places screwed to the floor and warping it into a crud shape of a ladder.

She bends it to the edge, moving the nails that popped out to screw them into the floor to secure the ladder. Kuvira lets out a deep sigh before beginning her descent below. This is stupid and will most likely blow up in her face, but if you decide to say goodbye to her today, she wants to see the place that you once called home. There are a few inches between the ladder and the ground so Kuvira jumps, She bends at the ladder back into the tram so if it starts whilst she’s away it won’t break any buildings in the process.

An old man opening up shop stares at Kuvira with wide eyes, watching her walk away as the tram above stays frozen. She’s a block away from the garden she’s heard you gush about, more and more people begin to filter out from their homes to start their day and each one eyes her with disgust. Squaring her shoulders, she stares ahead and away from everyone's watchful gaze.

The gardens come into view, towering bright green trees with vines growing on the wrought iron fence surrounding it. Kuvira stops at the entrance, looking inside with hesitancy, as if worried she’ll destroy it upon contact. There’s a pond in the center with a few lily pads floating around with two benches across from one another by the pond.

Flowers of all shapes and colors are scattered around and when her gaze locks on the towering Sunflowers in bloom, Kuvira suddenly remembers once finding you tucked behind them with bloodshot eyes and a raspy voice from crying. That was the second time she had knowingly hurt you, the first being asking you to keep it a secret. Kuvira takes a step back, not feeling worthy of stepping inside such a radiant place, and begins her trek around it to your house.

Most of the homes don’t have many outdoor decorations, a welcome mat or a potted plant seems to be the theme so when her eyes lock onto that metal planter with blue hydrangeas Kuvira knows she’s found the place. It’s a two-story townhome with some sort of stick figure drawn on the second story window and when she looks over her shoulder she sees how perfectly centered the house is to see all of the gardens from above.

She doesn’t know what to do now. She never really thought through her plan, which is incredibly unlike her, but that memory came flooding back through her mind and she knew she needed to see it for herself. Slowly she takes a step forward, and then another and another until she’s in front of the door with her fist raised, rapping three times against the metal.

Kuvira doesn’t know why she does it, maybe it's the sleep deprivation or an act of desperation to feel your presence again, she honestly doesn’t know. There’s the sound of thunderous footsteps from behind the door and a masculine voice calling out “I’ll get it!”

A man opens the door with the same color hair as you, he’s a bit on the chubbier side and looks to be roughly 6’2 or maybe even 6’3.

Kuvira can see the resemblance in certain features of his and it makes her long for you even more. Your father scowls at the sight of her, his demeanor has changed from cheery to vexed in a matter of seconds. She shouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m Kuvi-”

“I know who you are, you made us kneel before you.” His voice is gruff and his words clipped. Kuvira sighs, right, she did do that. “What do you want?”

‘I’ve come to talk to you and your wife about… well about your daughter.” Spirits this is awkward, your father stares Kuvira down for a few moments before frowning. Slowly he steps aside, letting her in. Your home is warm with family photos framed and hanging from the wall, the entry is a narrow hallway with an archway that leads into a small kitchen. As Kuvira follows your dad down the hall her eyes catch on a photo of you.

You can’t be any older than eight in it with your arms wrapped around your father's neck as he carries you on his back. Your mother is beside the two of you, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. All three of you are grinning and Kuvira notices that one of your front teeth is missing. Both of you have lived such different lives. At eight Kuvira was being abandoned by her parents for being too out of control.

Two people who grew up in completely different environments with such clashing personalities are soulmates, in some ways, it seems like a sick joke. But she can’t be upset about it when she loves you this much, just confused.

Your father clears his throat, ripping Kuvira from her thoughts. She looks over and tenses, he’s looking at her like he wants to say something but shakes his head and enters the room at the end of the hall. Kuvira reluctantly leaves the photo behind and follows after him.

The room is a living and dining room with a small circular table that has an elegant bouquet of yellow and white flowers in a simple vase with four chairs tucked underneath it. There is a cozy looking periwinkle sofa and an unlit fireplace with a photo hanging above it, this one is larger and is of you before the performance all those years ago. You look so pretty in that costume and so happy. Kuvira swallows.

Your dad walks up the staircase tucked to the right, leaving her in the living room where she awkwardly stands. She doesn’t think he wants her to go up. Kuvira makes out the sound of aggressive whispering from upstairs, she can’t make out any of the words but soon after two people come walking downstairs. Your father and your mother.

Kuvira’s eyes widened, you always mentioned your mother being part of the guard but you never mentioned her being the Lieutenant for the main dome. Not only did she help train Kuvira, but she also placed the captain's pin onto her uniform during her ceremony. She had smiled at Kuvira, having seen her as her own, and said quietly “I’m so proud of you.”

That smile is long gone and replaced with a scowl. “What could you possibly want to say about our daughter?” Your father places a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down a bit.

Kuvira gulps as she eyes the both of them, there're so many emotions raging within her now that she doesn’t know if she can even speak. Suddenly this place somehow seems too much like you and she wants to run away from your mother's wrathful gaze. “I’m… Your daughter,” Kuvira internally groans. This shouldn’t be so hard. “ Y/n and I are soulmates.”

“So the rumors are true…” Your father mutters as he plops down onto the couch with a dumbfounded expression.

“What rumors?” She had locked herself up in her room all of yesterday and this is her first time having a conversation with someone that’s not you. Your father grimaces.

“That guards found you in her room, naked,” your mother spits the words out. Oh spirits, this is not a good first impression. Kuvira feels her face flush a deep red “that you imprisoned your fiancé because he caught the two of you.”

“It’s a lot more than that” she offers, neither seems to care. Your father seems to not want to hear any of this because he quickly stands and walks off towards the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans being moved can be heard through the otherwise eerily silent home. “I didn’t want to imprison him.”

“I don’t care, what I want to know is why you were even with him if my daughter is your soulmate. She abruptly left with you three years ago.”

The explanation floating around her mind isn’t good enough, she can’t seem to figure out how to eloquently explain herself without it seeming like she doesn’t care about you. Suddenly as she thinks over the last three years and she starts to notice how harshly she’s treated you.

Up until now she always claimed it was for the good of the country, when you both finally got married the world would try to eat you up and chew you out for being with her. She needed you to have a perfect image and be resilient.

“I-I needed him for engineering and he wouldn’t leave with us unless he thought I loved him,” Kuvira says sheepishly. Your mother looks unimpressed as her jaw begins to clench. “I have always loved your daughter though.”

“So you hid my daughter, my beautiful, amazing, and sweet daughter away like something to be ashamed of?” She takes a step closer, scowling. Kuvira feels like the collar of her jacket is choking her.

“No! I have never been ashamed of her, I always told her how much I loved her.”

“But you turned her into the other woman for your own selfish desires!”

“They weren’t selfish, they were for the good of the empire! She understood.” Kuvira thinks you understood but right now she’s not too sure. A kettle in the background begins to whistle.

“My daughter dreamed of the day she’d meet her soulmate, she had everything planned out and I know for a fact that the woman I raised would not be okay with what you’ve turned her into!” Your father quietly reenters the room with a tray that holds three teacups with steam coming from them.

“I love her, I just want to fix everything! It's why I came here,” that’s the real reason that compelled Kuvira to come here, if anyone knew you better than her, it’d be your parents.

“How is she doing?” Your father asks, Kuvira looks over at him and notices how sad he looks. His eyes are bloodshot and a few tears fall from his eyes before he wipes them away.

“She’s healthy but upset with me.”

“As she should be,” your mother mutters under her breath. He picks up a teacup and blows on it, “why is she upset?” His voice cracks.

“She wants me to end this, told me it's her or the empire and I don’t know what to do.” Kuvira sighs and runs a hand through her hair, messing her bun up a bit.

“And why haven’t you chosen her already?” Your father's voice is calm, there’s a sadness to it but he doesn’t shout or rage like your mother who has her back turned to Kuvira as she goes to pick up one of the teacups. She can see how tense your mother is, how angry she still is.

“Because it's my country, if I give it up to Wu and Suyin then I am turning my back on the people I promised to protect.”

“You once promised to protect Zaofu at all costs” your mother snips out, he places a hand on her shoulder and softly says “honey, please.” She relaxes just a fraction as she takes the seat beside him at the table, glaring at her tea.

“These people are vulnerable and need someone to make sure they feel safe again. I’m that person, and your daughter understood that, or I thought she did.”

Your father sets his cup down and pats the chair beside him that’s situated across from your mother. She shyly walks over to it, she doesn’t want to sit down but she’s already pissed your mom off just by existing and she’d rather not give her another reason to hate her.

“They were vulnerable, but you have gotten rid of the bandits and raiders. You’ve stabilized the empire as you promised, now it’s time to let go and hand over the reins to someone else.”

“I can’t do that,” Kuvira says, her heart is racing. Let someone else rule? Give up the control she craves? The idea makes her feel unsafe, like the second she does it someone will destroy not only her but also you.

“You have to, my daughter won’t stay with you otherwise. Are you really ready to give up love for power?” He hands her the last cup of tea, the scent of jasmine wafts up and fills her senses. She slowly goes to pick up the cup, her hands shaking.

She’s so overwhelmed, none of this is meant to be happening. She’s supposed to win and you're meant to love and support her, then she proposes with a beautiful emerald ring that she’d make herself and you’d say yes. That’s how it’s meant to go, that’s how she has envisioned it since day one.

“This isn’t how it’s meant to go” she confesses, your father sets a soft hand on her own to help stop the shaking.

“How do you think it’s meant to go?” And so she tells him what she just thought, and she adds on how both of you would continue to better this country together and maybe, one day in the far future, have a child.

“Did you ever ask Y/n if that’s what she wants?” Your mother tries to keep her voice calm, tries to keep from yelling at her again. Kuvira stares down at the cup, trying to wrack her brain around the time you’d chime in with the future you wanted, or a time she even asked. “Just because it’s the future you planned for her doesn’t mean it's the one she wants. You can’t just plan everything out without including your partner's opinions and desires into the equation.”

You once talked about what your wedding would be like with Kuvira chiming in every once in a while, but that was it. That was the only time you mentioned anything regarding the future.

“Love is about equality, you both should be putting in equal effort. It’s a delicate balance that takes time to learn, give, and take. It’s not always going to be perfect even with your soulmate but you make it work for each other. If my daughter stayed with you all these years then she must love you, but for her to put her foot down shows she has had enough.” Your father's voice is soothing and calms her down just a bit.

“But…” Kuvira’s voice shakes, “what do I do if I give up control? It’ll never go back to how it was before, how am I meant to go back to everyday life after everything I’ve done? After knowing I probably could have done more.”

“No one knows what life will be like after. But I think a few years down the road you could get back to the place you were at before, maybe a new and improved version due to all the knowledge you’ve acquired over the years and due to having Y/n with you,” he takes a sip of his tea after speaking and delicately sets it down on its saucer.

“I know you need control in your life Kuvira, it’s what made you good at being Captain, but you need to let go. Everyone has to let go at some point and this is your time,” your mother says. Kuvira’s eyes glance around the room as she feels her heart begin to pound, it feels like any second it’ll leap out of her chest. Let go? The idea sends her mind spiraling with horrifying scenarios of what might happen.

“We may not like you, but if you drop this once and for all, and make our daughter happy then,” your mother lets out a deep sigh “we will be here to support and help you.” Tears glisten in her eyes as she stares at the both of them. “If our daughter loves you then that must mean there’s still some good left in you.”

Kuvira begins to softly cry, a hand comes up to cover her mouth as her shoulders hunch in on themselves. Your dad lets out a soft sigh and says “c’mere,” before pulling her into his arms and hugging her. Kuvira doesn’t hug him back nor pull away, she just sits there and cries into his shoulder. She knows what she must do and it terrifies her, fills her with doubt, and causes her stomach to clench from anxiety.

“You need to bring her back to us, please,” he whispers, and Kuvira nods. Slowly he pulls away from her and offers her a gentle, comforting squeeze on the shoulder. She desperately wipes at her eyes, suddenly embarrassed to have cried in front of them, and lets out a shuddering breath.

“You should go find her,” your mother says. Kuvira stands on wobbly legs, her hand placed firmly on the table for support. When she’s fully upright your father pulls her back into a hug, a short one this time. Kuvira awkwardly pats his back until he lets go.

Your mother stays seated, staring her down. “Don’t break her heart,” she says. Kuvira vehemently nods, her eyes wide. She will do whatever it takes to protect your beautiful heart and if you forgive her she will cherish it every second of every day.

She leaves shortly after that, your dad gives her a cookie before letting her leave which turns out to be really good and she walks over to the tram station. It’s since been fixed so when she presses the button requesting its presence it zooms by and opens its doors for her. The chairs are still messed up, just laying there a mess of something hardly resembling what they used to be. The tram takes her out of the city and to the entrance where she wastes no time hopping into a jeep and speeding off.

The midmorning sun beats down, today is incredibly hot and causes little beads of sweat to form on her forehead. When she gets to the encampment Kuvira slows just barely and everyone moves out of the way at the sound of the car barreling through. She abruptly stops it and jumps down before heading into her tent.

Inside Kuvira marches to her radio, she disregards the state of it and doesn’t even notice the filing cabinet you broke as she tunes into the main radio station the encampment uses. “Radio Freedom, what do you need?”

“Find y/n and send her to my tent.”

“Of course, great uniter. I’ll tell all my men to search for her.” The voice stutters out a reply before she switches it off. Spirits she feels like she might go crazy whilst she waits for you. She leans against the front of her desk with her arms crossed as she tries to come up with some grand speech of how much she loves you, of how your love and presence is what has kept her sane over these last few years.

She looks up at the ceiling and sighs, the idea is terrifying but she chooses you, she’ll let go of her defenses and send her men home for you.

The sound of fabric rustling has Kuvira snapping her head back down to stare into your eyes. You look pissed, you don’t have on your jacket so the white undershirt sticks to your sweaty skin and you have your hair in a messy ponytail instead of the usual bun.

Kuvira wets her lips before speaking, “I spoke to your parents.” Your eyes widen at that, Kuvira continues “I didn’t realize I knew your mom, she helped train me when I first joined the guard.” And she hates my guts which I don’t blame her, Kuvira thinks. I let her down, just like I let you down.

You finally look into her eyes and spirits, even with that furious look on your face you take her breath away. “So?”

“She’s a blunt woman, and when I told her about us neither of your parents were pleased.” You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, she wishes she could know what’s going on inside your head. “But they gave me a piece of useful advice, something I probably could have had use of hearing all those years ago.”

She slowly walks over to you, hesitantly so. When she’s close enough you look her over and purse your lips. There’s a slight look of concern written on your features and it swells her heart with a hint of hope.

“That if I love you, it shouldn’t just be me taking from you, but by asking you to hide everything and go along with my plans that was exactly what I did. I realize now I never even asked what you want, what you envision when you see our future.”

You begin to silently cry and she has to use all of her willpower to keep from reaching forward to wipe away your tears.

“It should be equal. Give and take and be there for each other. There shouldn’t be punishments or silent treatment,” Kuvira pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you want?”

You squeeze your eyes shut at her words, your bottom lip trembling. You get lost in your thoughts, something you do often but Kuvira decides not to pull you out. She’ll give you all the time you need to reply.

“I want peace,” you say, your voice a mere whisper. But she hears you loud and clear. “I want this all to end and I want us to finally be able to love one another in front of others. I don’t want any of this, I can’t peacefully live in a world where this… this mission is a success.”

Kuvira takes a step forward and opens her mouth to pour out all of her feelings, to promise that she’ll end it when something interrupts your moment. A shout and gunfire pierce through the air. Kuvira’s heart drops and she rushes forward to look outside of the tent.

Her men are scrambling around like ants, stumbling to get to their places. She makes out a clash of fire and earth up ahead and runs out, leaving you behind. She turns a corner and comes face first with one of her men, instead of informing her of what’s going on he shoots a ball of fire at her. Kuvira’s eyes widen as she bends up a wall to protect her.

“C’mon oh great uniter! Fight me” he shouts. Kuvira’s nostrils flare as she pushes the wall forward towards the man, it hits him and sends him stumbling back. As she advances with hands clenched, ready to activate his bracelet he shoots a spiraling wave of fire out of his foot that has Kuvira jumping out of the way. “It’s even ground now,” he says in a smug tone as he raises her pant leg to show a naked ankle. What?

Her heart races as she stands back up, cracking her neck to the side. She fought the avatar, she can fight this puny fire bender. Kuvira gets into stance, smirking as she shoots out two pieces of metal, one wraps around his ankle and the other around his neck, and with a twist of her wrist, he’s flying backward, slamming into the metal wall of one of the guardhouses.

“Kuvira!” She hears you spit out, her head turns as she watches you desperately run over with an enraged look on your face. You bend the metal off the poor man, he falls to the floor with a groan. “Leave him alone.”

“He is defying me!” Her eyes widened in rage, how could you defend him? “He is one of my soldiers and he just tried to kill me.”

“He was never one of your soldiers!” Your fists are clenched as you try to control your anger, “you forced him into this!”

With both of you distracted he raises once more, letting out a pained groan before shooting a small, weaker bolt of fire. You shoot up a wall for the both of you, keeping your gaze trained on your lover. “It’s him or me.”

Kuvira lets out a growl of anger at your words, loyal earth empire soldiers rush past towards the battlefield, ignoring the lover's quarrel as they shout out commands to one another. “Why are you defending him!?”

“Because Kuvira what we did back then wasn’t right, because I made a promise to myself to protect them and I will not break it!” Her eyes widen, stumbling back a step. There’s so much going on in her head, she just wants to silence all the anger and confusion that burns within this situation.

“You freed him?” She asks incredulously, you thickly swallow before nodding.

“I freed all of them.” Your wall begins to crumble, the fire bender has since left, leaving the two of you to stare at one another. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I should have never let you cage them in as you did. You asked me early what I want? I want you to let this war go, I want you to leave them alone and surrender!”

“I can’t do that!” Not now, not after being attacked, not after seeing that her men are in some sort of danger. Your hands reach up to cup her cheeks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yes you can, I know you can Kuvira.”

She rips herself out of your grasp, suddenly feeling like your touch will poison her. Poison her resolve and burn away all of her control. She needs this war to thrive, she needs it more than air itself.

A deafening boom is heard from behind her, once more she leaves you behind but this time she feels you hot on her heels as she runs towards the battle. Kuvira vaguely makes out something moving in the air, she squints her eyes to figure out what it is and the object swoops down just a bit to drop down soldiers that aren’t hers. It’s a sky bison she realizes, that must mean Korra is here.

She sees that one of the people that dropped down is Bolin as he lava bends a circle around him and his team to protect them from her soldiers. He wastes no time as he bends up a chunk of earth and hurls it towards the soldiers, most don’t jump out of the way in time, the force of it knocks them down and causes them to pass out. She hopes they are just passed out.

The others around him are all different kinds of benders donning makeshift armor under their shaggy and ripped clothes, Kuvira realizes with a stunned expression that it’s the reeducation camp uniforms. Her heart pounds as more of her men fall all around her, the comforting words of your father worm their way into her head as she squeezes her eyes shut. The young dictator stumbles back and pulls at the roots of her hair in frustration, she can’t let this go, can’t give up.

This is the most in control she’s ever felt, she no longer fears for her life or for her future, it was within reach and exactly what she imagined it to be. With her rule, she thought she erased any chance of reliving her younger years, alone and heartbroken as the longing for someone to hold her ate her up. Suyin’s comforting words never worked, but the sound of her men marching did.

When Kuvira opens her eyes she sees that more of her men have fallen and Bolin’s group has moved on, she surges forward to eradicate them when your hand wraps around her forearm and pulls her back. She looks over her shoulder with a snarl, not realizing it’s you.

“Don’t make me choose between you and my country.”

“It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

But if she does choose this war, this overabundance of control she will be alone and heartbroken because you will leave her. You made it clear yesterday that you won’t stand by and support this anymore, that you won’t stay by her side if she chooses this path. Your fingers through her hair work too, your soothing words are like a balm to her soul and your smile eases her into this warm state of calmness.

With you, she doesn’t need the marching of her men or the rush she gets when getting someone to sign over their land. You give it to her without a second thought, you give to her because you love her and your love doesn’t come with a price or consequences.

You tug her to the trunk of a jeep and force her climb onto it. When she stands up on the hunk of metal you grab her cheeks and force her to look at the battle ahead. More and more of her men are falling as air benders use their full force and mecha suits shoot them down. Kuvira then notices the lack of mecha suits on her side and how in the middle of the field there’s a clash of green uniforms going against one another. The field lights up with all forms of bending as each man readily gives their life to her cause.

“If you surrender your men will be fine! Kuvira be the woman I know you are, stand down!” You pull her eyes away from the scene so she can look at you, look into your eyes that are full of fear and desperation.

“Bu-” Her heart begins to race, she feels like she may vomit.

“I need you Kuvira! I need you more than them, so surrender,” you bite your lip. “For us, please Vira.”

You pull her into a breathtaking kiss that's anything but romantic, your fingers squeeze a bit tighter at her cheeks as you slant your lips against her own, she shakily brings her own hands up to grip your waist in a bruising hold.

When you pull away, there’s a tear racing down your cheek as you stare into her eyes. “Please.”

“Fine!” She spits out, her throat feels like it’s closing up as her fingers begin to shake. This is everything she’s worked towards for three years, every agonizing day spent pouring herself into documents and threatening governors and mayors into submitting to her will.

Every kiss she ever gave Baatar, every time she ignored your pleading eyes.

She’s about to give it all up for you and feels panic scrap through her as if it were wrapped in barbed wire and she doesn’t know what to do, her whole body shakes as she looks around at the mess she created.

“We need to get to the fro-” Your eyes widen, trained on something behind her.

“Watch out!” You scream, pushing her out of the way. An icicle bolts through the air, it all seems so slow and yet happens so fast. Kuvira goes stumbling back, barely able to keep herself up, her gaze moved from you during the push so when she hears the sound of you letting out some sort of strangled sound her head whips over to see the icicle lodged in your lower left stomach. Your white shirt begins to turn red as blood spills out. She’s frozen in place as she watches you slowly lift a hand to touch your wound as a pained whimper leaves your lips.

That terrible noise rips her out of her frozen state and she dashes over to hold you as you begin to fall to your knees. When Kuvira looks over to see where the icicle came from she looks into the wide, terrified eyes of one of the rebels. It’s one of the ones you helped free.

Before she can even think of all the ways she’s going to kill that woman you croak out “Vira?” Her gaze flickers back to yours, tears are welling up in your eyes and Kuvira feels the warm blood begin to spill onto her hands.

“I’m gonna save you, gonna find someone to heal you.” Her voice is high pitched and cracking but she doesn’t care. “You are not going to die.” Kuvira looks around for someone to help save you, her one chance at happiness from going up in flames. She feels her vision blur as she desperately turns her head in all directions when it lands on the blue robes of the water benders fighting on Korra’s side.

One of them has to be a healer, she thinks. “I need to lay you down so I can drive,” you grip at her wrist, your eyes widening at the idea of her letting go of you. “It’s the only way I can save you, I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly she doesn’t care about anything but you, her fear of losing control has been replaced with the fear of losing you. She can’t lose you, you're the light in her life and without you, she’ll once more be the abandoned, unlovable ward of Suyin.

She quickly leans down to press a firm kiss to your forehead before gently setting you down in the trunk of the car before clumsily jumping into the front seat and turning the key. The jeep roars to life, the only problem is how her pathway is blocked.

Kuvira stands in her seat and pulls two large walls from the earth, soldiers stumble out of the way as she pushes it through the battlefield, offering a small, clear pathway for her to drive through. She floors it and hears you groaning in the background, causing her to grip the steering wheel harder.

Her hands keep slipping from being soaked in your blood, she fights with all her might to not look down at them, knowing she needs to focus on the road ahead. Her wall ends halfway so with one hand she bends two walls again, it takes a bit longer and these walls are much shorter and less sturdy but it does the trick.

Suddenly Korra appears at the end of the pathway, her hands once lit with fire extinguish at the frantic look on Kuvira’s face. She makes it to the end of the pathway, Korra jumps out of the way as Kuvira slams her foot on the brakes. The car comes to a screeching halt and without a second to lose Kuvira is scrambling out of the front seat to where she left you.

Kuvira lets out a loud, strangled sob at the sight before her. Your skin is so pale and there’s so much blood, the floor of the trunk is coated in the deep red and Kuvira bites back a sob. You look up at her, softly saying “Vira?”

Kuvira’s wet hands go to rest on your cheeks, she looks up at Korra and screams “I need a healer!” Her scream snaps Korra out of her daze and she rushes over to the jeep, when she opens the door of the trunk and sees blood begin to trickle off the edge, her heart drops.

She’s never met you before but Suyin told her enough to know you're the one who helped them. She climbs into the truck, her brown pants slowly sticking to her skin from the blood.

The icicle has melted now, leaving in its wake a gaping hole as she summons water from one of the vats they brought for the benders and encases her hands in it. She’s only ever healed herself and it was never something so severe.

“Please,” Kuvira says to the avatar, her wet words scraping out of her throat as she continues to cry. “Please save her.” Korra nods, keeping her gaze on your wound as her hands begin to glow and hover over the gaping hole.

Neither of them notices how the fight has halted, Kuvira’s soldiers waiting for her to end the avatar due to how close they are. Their leader begins to sob as she desperately holds your neck so she can lift your head and set it on her lap. The metal probably isn’t very comfortable. Your cheeks and neck now have bloody handprints on them as Kuvira repeats like a mantra “You’ll be fine, you’re gonna be fine. I love you so much, you’re gonna live.”

Korra calls over her shoulder “I need another healer!” Two waterbenders rush over, water already bent around their hands as they climb up to help. All of their hands glow as they hover over your wound, “she’s lost a lot of blood” one of them says to the other.

“Just fix it!” Kuvira demands, her heart dropping at his comment, neither of them acknowledges her as they continue to work on her soulmate, one of your hands weakly grab at her wrist so she’ll look at you, her gaze snaps to yours and she softens in an instant. “Everything’s gonna be okay, my love. Okay?”

“Okay,” you weakly reply. Kuvira rests her forehead against your own, trying to keep from screaming out. “I love you, Vira.”

“I love you too, y/n. I love you so much.” She continues to repeat herself, you look up into her eyes with a small, adoring smile.

It feels like hours go by as they work on you. Whilst the three water tribe members try to save your life, Suyin walks up with a solemn look on her face. “You need to end this, Kuvira.”

Her eyes pull away from yours to look into those of Suyin’s and she angrily spits out “I don’t care, end it. So long as Y/n lives I don’t care.” Her men at the very front of her army hear her though and all let out differing noises of surprise. “I surrender.”

Suyin begins to spit out orders on how to arrest her men, she sends the other Beifongs back to Zaofu to clean up Kuvira’s mess whilst everyone else stays on the battlefield to help her arrest and detain the earth empire loyalists. Kuvira places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to watch it all be ripped from her, she focuses on your breathing as she tunes out the youngest Beifong sister.

Every once in a while you groan out in pain and Kuvira’s heart clenches with fear each time. “We’ve done all we can for now,” Korra says softly from behind her. Kuvira looks over her shoulder at the Avatar and sees Suyin walk up to the edge of the trunk with her arms crossed over her chest. “You can send me away to prison once she’s better, just don’t take me away from her just yet.”

“I made a promise to Y/n and I may not like it but I will stand by it. By ending this war you will be put under house arrest, we need Y/n awake before we can do that though.” Suyin sighs, Kuvira’s gaze shifts to your own at Suyin’s words but she finds them shut.

Frantically, fearful that you won’t ever wake up, she places two fingers on your pulse. It’s weak, but there. “She’s just sleeping, she’ll need lots of it.”

“Y/n said she’ll choose the city for herself, for now, we’ll need to cuff you and take the both of you back to Zaofu so she can get the rest she needs.”

She pulls your body up and into her arms so she can hold you, your head lulls onto her shoulder and you let out a soft groan at the movement.

She places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes as she hears orders being given by the younger Beifong sister. She doesn’t listen, too focused on your breathing to care. She has willingly given up her army for you, and she’d do it again if it means saving your life.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok fanfic #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra #lok #fanfic #the great divide

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nocturnegyser · 3 years

Text

The feels

Warren x Reader (raccoon)

A/N: I’ve had this typed out for a while and I wanted to go do more Warren x Raccoon material, I just decided to actually go through it, it still probably sucks but I tried. I’m not a professional in any sense, anyways, enjoy :3

———

Summary: Warrens been acting strange.. (y/n) tries to find out what’s happening with him, wonder what it is?

———

Having only been going to her new school for 2 months, (y/n) has already met so many cool people. She even started her band called ‘Clean Trash’, ironically not with Warren on the drums.

The one replacing Warren on drums was a 5th grader named Ryan Husk, his muatation allows to move any liquid with his mind, their bassist being an 8th grader named Mars Palenski, his mutation gives him a giant rats tail and ears, pretty similar to (y/n)’s raccoon ears and tail.

Needless to say, (y/n) was getting along just fine, she was keeping up with her classes, nothing perfect but she didn’t care, just as long as she was passing.

———

Waking up one morning for breakfast, (y/n) nader her way to the kitchen for hopefully some marshmallow mateys, one she got there she saw Warren standing at the stove preparing food, both locking eyes when she walked in.

This reminded (y/n) of their first proper time meeting, although instead of giving Warren a death look, she smiled and wished him a good morning.

Warren doing the same, (y/n) was grabbing the cereal and milk, in the midst of preparing her breakfast.

“I can make you some french toast if you want” Warren offered

“Huh?.. oh.. yea ok” the still waking up very tired raccoon girl sitting down at the counter

Peter and Alex then walking in greeting both a good morning, then returning a good morning back.

Peter then smelling the french toast “Oh man! I love your french toast!” Peter getting excited

“Fuck off, I’m not making you anymore after what happened last time” Warren staring daggers at Peter while setting a plate in front of (y/n) and himself

“What happened last time?” (y/n) asked pouring syrup on her stack

“Well basically-“ Peter started then Alex shortly cutting him off “He finished all 24 pieces Warren spent almost an hour making, he didn’t even get a single bite”

“Dang” (y/n) responded while taking a bite “Hey, what do you expect from me? I was too hungry!”

“Some damn self control would be nice” Warren still staring daggers at Peter, both opting to eat the same marshmallow mateys (y/n) was planning on eating

———

After finishing (y/n) washed her dishes and offered to help Warren clean up but he insisted she go and get ready for classes, she took him up on it and go ready for the day, washed her face, brushed her teeth, hair, ears and tail.

(y/n) and Warren didn’t have any classes together, their schedules didn’t really cross paths a lot, even morning breakfasts like that were rare, (y/n) was content with their schedules not matching up all the time, she was happy with whatever time they did spend together if any at all.

(y/n) mostly ate lunch with Jubilee and if she wasn’t available for lunch then Mars and Ryan would eat with her.

It was after classes when Clean Trash would practice in the unused music room, that is if neither Ryan or Mars had homework.

She had a policy if either of them had homework before coming to practice they would have to finish it before they turn the amps on, or if they got in trouble they wouldn’t practice that day, they didn’t practice on the weekends though.

“You guys got any homework?” (y/n) asked her band mates, “No,” both answered truthfully

“Ok, let’s begin with ‘My heart is a futon’” (y/n) taking initiative

“How do you come up with these song names?” Mars asked

“I dunno, just whatever comes to mind, mind counting us off Ryan?” (y/n) pointing at Ryan, guitar pick in hand

“One, two, three, four, one two!”

Warren just so happened to be passing by the music room the band was in and overheard them playing.

Wanting to go unnoticed, he peeked in through the window watching and listening to them play, mostly focusing on (y/n) though.

Jean shortly caught him watching them and overheard what he was thinking

She has a really good singing voice, not to mention how her hair falls perfectly while playing..

“Wow,” Jean interrupting his thought “Never seen you this head over heels for someone, must be pretty special”

“Hey! I’m not ‘head over heels’, okay?“ Warren realizing she knows exactly what she’s talking about “They just sound really good is all”

“Right, just like what you thought on the ride to the movies” Jean flustering the already flustered angel boy even more “You think you’re ever going to tell her?”

“How do you- look, quit reading my thoughts okay? I don’t have anything to tell her” Warren becoming a little defensive “We’re just friends”

“Warren, you’re only friends for so long before she moves on” Jean trying to convince him

“Moves on? what’s that supposed to mean?” Warren asked confused

“You’re going to see what I mean, just waiting around doing nothing” Jean then walking off

Move on?... does she mean... no

Warren takes one more glance of (y/n) playing before walking off

———

In his room who he shared with Kurt, laying on his bed thinking to himself

Should I tell her?... Will someone else come along?...

Kurt and Alex bursting in throwing Warrens train of thought off, both seeing his worry almost immediately

Kurt, trying to be a good friend crouched down near Warren “You have immense sadness in your eyes friend, tell us what’s wrong?”

Warren, not wanting to talk about it, but not wanting to come off too mean, “Ok Blue, listen, I don’t want to talk about anything, especially with you” eventually just walking out in a huff

“... Think it was something I said?” Kurts ears flopped in a sad manner, Peter assuring him it was him “Ah jeez, he’s been like this since our horror movie trip plan fell through, must’ve really wanted to watch that movie..”

What would I ever say.. How would I even say it... when.. should I say... GAH! I hate this! I’m going to workout

Walking in the locker room , he ran into Scott already talking to friends.

His friends having already gotten ready before him, they went on ahead leaving Scott alone with Warren.

“Hey Warren! I haven’t talked to you since the horror movie fail, how’ve you been man?” Scott trying to spark a small conversation getting ready

“Yeah I’ve been fine” Warren already disconnecting from the world around him

“Yeah, you never told us how your trip to the music shop with (y/n) was” Scott joked

“It was fine” Warren replied coldly

“Fine enough you started acting less cranky all the time?”

“It was until you opened your mouth” Warren getting done before Scott and heading into the gym

———

In her room, (y/n) and Jubilee are planning the elementary classes Summer picnic, it was a special request by Charles.

“So that’s 25 turkey sandwiches for the kids with nut allergies.. and 45 pb & j’s.. in total thats.. 70 sandwiches, whoooff” (y/n) laying back in her bed just wanting to go to sleep even thought it was only 4:37pm

“Ok Scott called the ice cream parlor and they did have each classes flavor selections, but we do have to go pick them up ourselves the day of,” (y/n), Jubilee, Scott and Jean have all been tasked in helping plan this picnic for some time.

“Ok I guess that just leaves... actually making the sandwiches, sorting the sandwiches, and picking up everything else.. ugh, I don’t hate these kids but why do there have to be so many of them” (y/n) was super exhausted

“Doesn’t your reality manipulation allow you to multiply objects?”

“I don’t have it under control yet, so as of the moment.. no”

“Well not taking the easy way goes to show how much you care right? Besides, isn’t one of your band members attending this picnic? Ryan Dust, right?”

“Husk, and yes, he is coincidentally in the class I’ll be helping supervise”

“You see? wouldn’t it be just awesome for little Ryan to his bands leader working hard?”

“Ugh... I guess so”

“Well I gotta get going” Jubilee started packing her things, “I gotta meet with Jane and discuss seating arrangements, see if you can get any help with the sandwiches, maybe ask Warren?”

“Why Warren?” (y/n) confused why Jubilee specifically said Warren

“Why not Warren? Doesnt Ryan look up to Warren as a drummer? I’m sure it would make Ryan super motivated to see two people he looks up to working so hard”

“Yea ok but-“

“Hold that but. I gotta go, talk later”

With that over, for now, (y/n) started cleaning up the mess of papers on her bed and grabbed her phone to call Warren, voicemail.

Huh... guess he’s busy right now.. I’ll ask again later... but I might forget to ask later and he might over book his schedule, he really needs to stop doing that... Oh! I know! I’ll set a reminder on my phone! this phone has a reminder app doesn’t it?

Navigating her phone proved to be more difficult than she anticipated, considering she’s had her phone longer than a month, it was still her first phone, her brother got it for her before she left, she never really got around to learning how to use it.

Getting frustrated not finding what she needed using her phone, (y/n) opted to asking Warren in person

———

Running around the whole mansion looking for Warren and even asking people who knew him if they saw him around, no luck.

Until she ran into Kurt and Peter in the main hall, (y/n) immediately running up to them and asking both if the saw him anywhere.

“Uh, yeah last we saw him, he was heading to the gym, looked like he was going through it,” Peter answered, Kurt immediately agreeing, “Ja, He stormed off after I asked him what was wrong..”

What was wrong? Going through it? What’s happening with Warren?

Peter then reassuring Kurt it wasn’t his fault Warren was upset, “Dude, I told you, he’s been like this since that movie we went to go see sold out on movie tickets, like I said, he’s probably just pissed he didn’t get to see it”

“Been like what?” (y/n) now concerned

“Well it’s kinda difficult to explain but more happy in a way kinda, but also crank now that he’s more happy, y’know?”

(y/n) understood what he meant, “Yea.. well I’ll ask him about it once I find him, thank guys,” (y/n) then running off towards the gym, the two boys nodding and continuing on with their day.

———

(y/n) made it to the gym, not having really used it yet, she just ran in looking for Warren, she figured she’d look for his wings since they were easy to spot.

After a few minutes of looking, (y/n) eventually spotted Warren lifting weights on a bench in the back.

She was waving and shouting to him hoping he’d notice but he wasn’t paying attention and had his music in.

(y/n) decided she’d approach him and get his attention that way, upon approaching him she tapped his shoulder hoping it would get his attention, big mistake.

Tapping Warrens shoulder triggered his fight instincts and whipped around with full wing span, cutting (y/n) in the face.

She fell to the ground dazed holding her face, Warren immediately realizing what he’s done he immediately runs to her and gives her a towel to cover her cut with.

Scott noticing the commotion ran over to help Warren rush (y/n) to med.

———

Outside of med Warren was pacing back and forth while Scott was sitting on a bench, both waiting for Hank and (y/n).

Warren couldn’t stop pacing, Scott tried to relieve him,” Hey look, worst case scenario, she just has some light scarring..”

Warren immediately erupting, “No! Don’t you get it??! This whole thing means I haven’t changed a bit since Apocalypse!!,” Warren having remembered his nature when he aligned with Apocalypse over 2 years ago.

“Hey! Now don’t say that! You obviously didn’t mean to hurt her, you obviously aren’t the same from then“ Scott trying to assure Warren he isn’t the same from back then, “Look! even you and Kurt can live in the same room! Surely that means something”

“Yea, not like we ever talk,” Warren denying everything Scott was saying, Scott still trying to convince him otherwise, “Even Kurt considers you a friend now, he never saw you as a bad guy Warren, no one has, not even Charles”

Warren still not listening stormed off again, tears almost forming in his eyes, not too long after, Hank brought (y/n) with a clean bill of health apart from the bandage on her face, and a lollipop

“Nothing too bad, the bleeding stopped, it’s best to keep the bandage on to prevent bacteria from getting in,” Hank explained to Scott

“Thanks Mr. Hank, also for the lollipop” (y/n) gratefully thanked, then looking around for Warren “Where’d Warren go?”

“Oh, Warren... he needed to go... take care of something,” Scott nervously told (y/n) not wanting to worry her by telling her he stormed off because he’s afraid he’s the same as when he was with Apocalypse

“Oh... I just needed to talk to him about something..”

“About the sandwiches for the picnic right? Jubilee asked Peter if he could help, with Peter the sandwiches will be done in a second”

(y/n) shaking her head, “No, not that... I needed to ask him about.. something else”

Scott a little confused but realizing, “You’re not.. mad at Warren now are you?” Scott reluctantly asked (y/n)

(y/n) shaking her head again, “Of course not, I probably shouldn’t have snuck up on him like that, it’s just as much my fault I got this that it his,” (y/n) immediately placing the blame on herself for something that obviously wasn’t her fault or Warrens

Both Hank and Scott try to reassure it wasn’t either sides fault

“Well, I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, I just... I need to talk to him”

“Well.. it’s probably not the best time to... bother him, he’s got some .. things to take care of right now,” Scott trying to avoid even more problems between them

“Maybe, but he’s.. my friend, I need to know if he’s alright” (y/n) then speed walking off to go find Warren

“Ah jeez...” Scott sighed

“Think they’re... actually going to talk about... that?” Hank asked

“I dunno, I just hope they’re able to work things out”

———

Having run through the whole mansion looking for Warren once again, (y/n) was certain she knew where he was, but to no avail. On her way back to her room, she noticed the attic ceiling hatch and realized.

“Tch- could he...,” (y/n) began opening the hatch letting the ladder down then ascending up into the attic.

“Hello-“ (y/n) checking to see if anyone was up there, then there he was. Not wanting to alarm him again, she slowly arose from the hatch and go up slowly as to not to alarm him. Warren was just sitting on a window sill looking out, lost in thought

W: *Why did I do that... I told myself she.. I was going to...*

(y/n): *Ok, I can see he isn’t paying attention again... this time I’ll... I’ll call him softly as to not to trigger his attack again*

(y/n) reluctantly took a step closer, stepping on a creaky floorboard thus alerting Warren, Warren looked over and sat up immediately, panic in his eyes.

“(y/n)!” Warren stuttered

“Hi! uh.. I just wanted to check up on you ‘cus I heard from Peter and Kurt that-“ (y/n) trying to be friendly with Warren then cutting her off

“(y/n)! y-you shouldn’t be here, it’s not-“ Warren spat out nervously with (y/n) cutting him off in return

“Ok ok I know I know, you had some stuff to think about but, I just wanted to say I’m sorry I snuck up on you like that, I should have probably alerted you before approaching you, you just had your music in I didn’t know-“ Warren then cutting her off once again “Look. (y/n), I am truly sorry I cut your face but.. you shouldn’t be around me, I’m just-“

“What? Dangerous? just ‘cause you have metal wings? there are people in this world without metal wings who I’m scared of more than you”

“(y/n)-”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me like that I just.. at first I wanted to ask you about sandwiches but.. Peter and Kurt told me you’ve been ‘going through it’, their words not mine, and I just wanted to see exactly... what it is you’re going through..”

“(y/n), listen, you don’t understand, I’m the Archangel of Death! I don’t belong anywhere here, I just-“ Warren spewed out with (y/n) cutting him off again

“Warren! just shut up and listen to what I have to say!” she bursted out, continuing “I know you don’t mean any harm even whatever happened in the past, I’m not sure what all happened but that’s hopefully why I’m here, I just want to be there for someone who makes this place feel more like home even though we don’t meet up a lot”

“y/n), I-“

“Being here was scary but being here with you.. made it less scary, I don’t know if you feel the same way about me but.. I want. to be there for you when I can, Warren” (y/n) then taking a step closer knowing Warren can’t go anywhere

“Being around you.. I feel.. like maybe being here isn’t so bad, like maybe I can actually make something of myself here, like maybe.. you aren’t so bad..” (y/n) holding herself with tears welling up in her eyes

“I don’t know if you feel the same around me but.. that’s how I feel.. about you” (y/n) finally finishing

“(y/n)...” (y/n) holding for impact, entirely expecting him to reject her feeling, “I feel the same way about you,” Warren then taking a step closer

(y/n) almost gasped not believing what she heard

“Being around you.. brings me to a simpler time in my life and.. whenever we do meet up or bump into each other that feeling washes over me completely and.. I thought you hated my guts when we first met. You calling me angel boy, me calling you trash panda.. I never thought you’d want to talk to me ‘cus..” Warren expanding his wings and motion to them “I also wanted to be there for you when I could but.. I never saw you during the day, so I just..”

Both of them just stood there, looking into each other’s eye, then both taking another step closer to one another.

“Can I..” Warren started, looking deep into (y/n)’s yellow golden eyes, “Can I.. kiss.. you?”

(y/n) tears streaming down her face, just stood there looking up at Warren, not even answering him, she jumped up wrapping her arms around his neck just going for it. They kissed, Warren holding her close to him, (y/n) hasn’t felt so safe since she moved, Warrens wings around both of them. After what felt like forever only being 8 seconds, they separated kissing still holding each other.

“Well... ever kiss a raccoon face girl?” (y/n) joked

“He he, uh.. no but it was definitely a fine start”

Both chuckling before kissing again

———

A/N: if this sucked plz tell me, bully me if it was actually bad :D

#raccoon x warren #warren worthington headcanon #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x reader #warren #warren x raccoon #raccoon #raccoon reader #reader #x-men #x-men fanfic #head canon

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 4 years

Note

How would our boys react to their love cooking them dinner that turned out really disgusting? Who would be honest and who would fake it?

Lol ok this is a super old prompt and I am so sorry for that. But I’ve been promised a reward if I finish something so.

Alright, the way I see it there are three potential reactions here:

First we have the Fakers who won’t ever drop the facade.

You had been seeing Marcus for a few weeks and you had agreed to keep it casual, he told you he has gotten out of a pretty serious relationship not too long ago and she had broken his heart. It was flu season in DC and he was bundled up in bed for the second day in a row and you felt terrible for him. You weren’t the greatest cook in the world but you figured chicken noodle soup was easy enough that should couldn’t possibly fuck it up. You were wrong. You were about to toss it and call GrubHub when Marcus shuffled into the kitchen looking pathetic and handsome and stuck a spoon into the pot and into his mouth before you could warn him off it. It must be special FBI training that allowed him to keep the disgust off his face. “Go on, say it, it’s terrible, I really wanted to make you something, but apparently even this is beyond me,” you explain with a frown. He shakes his head and attempts a smile. “No, it’s really good! I love it!” He eats another spoonful and isn’t quite as successful at keeping the grimace off his face. You laugh, “it’s awful, just admit it.” He hugs you to his side and puts the spoon carefully in the sink. “It was great, I’m just you know, not really that hungry.”

Catfish eats your attempt at dish his mother made for the two of you last Christmas with a completely straight face. And manages to eat his entire portion as you stare at him in disbelief, your plate completely ignored. “This is disgusting, how did you choke that down?” He shrugs and pushes his empty plate away. “It was good, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blink at him. “Fish, that was vile, I know eating army food for decades must have ruined your taste buds, but I can’t believe the damage is this extensive.” He smiles and shrugs. You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine, if this was so great, have mine.” You see the look of panic in his eyes before he sighs, resigned, and actually starts to eat the rest of that terrible dinner you just made.

Then there are the Fakers who pretty quickly break and admit that was pretty terrible.

Max to his credit is very polite when he tells you that it’s “a shame he’s on an all liquid diet now” because that looks delicious. And holds that face for an entire minute before breaking and admitting with a grin, pressing a kiss to your temple, that his sense of smell is about four times better than a bloodhound’s and that whatever that is it smells truly awful.

Ezra tries to assure you that it isn’t burnt too terribly, really, just a little singed, completely edible, truly. His diction becomes more and more flowery and complimentary the longer you stare at the black piece of meat in front of you. He trails off when even he can no longer find reassuring words and sighs, shoulders slumping. “Alright, it does look like the desiccated husk of a beetle, but it’s the thought that really counts my dear.”

Oberyn manages one bite, one compliment that the most gullible child could see through, and when you attempt to call him out on his obvious bullshit, he attempts a tried and true Prince of Dorne tactic and tries to distract you with sex. One hand is around the back of your head, his face buried between your breasts, and his other hand is drifting into your small clothes when you manage to gasp, “admit it, that soup was disgusting.” Oberyn mumbles something and pinches your clit gently. You shudder. “What did you say?” He lifts his head from your breasts and repeats with an irresistible grin, “My apologies, lady, I can’t possibly answer you when I’m otherwise occupied.” And he bends his head to nip sharply at your neck.

Whiskey laughs when you present the loaf of bread you had made to him. You frown at him and he immediately sobers. “Well, I’m sure it’s... delicious!” He rips off a piece and shoves it in his mouth, chewing for a lot longer than any piece of bread should require. Eventually he manages to swallow it and gives you a shaky smile. “Sugar, that was wonderful. Absolutely delicious.” The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before you crack and start snickering, Whiskey soon following. You toss the loaf onto the counter next to him and climb into his lap taking his face in your hands. “I can’t believe you actually ate that.” He grimaces. “Neither can I sweetheart, it looked like Texas and tasted about what Texas dirt tastes like too.” You laugh and kiss the tip of his nose.

Din returns the plate to you, suspiciously empty. You know how bad it was, you had to eat it too, and so you’re skeptical when he says that he enjoyed it. He’s glad that you can’t see his face through his helmet when you ask him again- but even through that barrier he’s unable to deceive you for long. He sighs at the frown on your face and admits that the baby ate it. “But he really seemed to like it!” You roll your eyes. “Thanks. The baby who eats frogs live really liked that dinner. How lovely.”

Aaaaand the Boys that flat out tell you that was Not Good

Maxwell refuses to try it. Loudly. Repeatedly. Accuses you of attempting to poison him so you can have all his money to yourself. “You could pay me a million dollars and I still wouldn’t put that in my mouth,” he declares, arms crossed over his chest, smirk on his face. “Baby, you already have a million dollars, that’s not much of an incentive.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “The sentiment still stands. You could offer to blow me continuously for the rest of my life and I still wouldn’t eat whatever that is.” You snort and roll your eyes. “Alright you big baby, where would you like to go out for dinner.”

Tovar eats the whole thing. And doesn’t make a face or say a word. Until you ask him how he liked the meat pie. He meets your eyes directly and tells you honestly that he’s tasted better food eight weeks into a siege. You scoff. “Then why did you eat the whole thing?” He shrugs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because you made it for me and it’s wrong to waste food.” Your heart melts a little as he gets up and kisses your fingers softly, a twinkle in his eyes. “Even if I’ve eaten boiled boots that tasted better.” You gasp and smack his chest as he laughs.

Liam at least tastes it. And manages to swallow most of it. But then looks up at you with his serious brown eyes and tells you that he’s been poisoned before and it had tasted better. You start to laugh before you realize he’s entirely serious. You grab his fork and take a bite of it yourself and don’t manage to swallow any of it. “I think that may actually *be* poison,” you cough, trying to wipe the taste of it off your tongue.

Javier sticks his nose in the oven and nearly smacks his head against the top trying to get away from it as fast as he can. He won’t meet you eyes as he closes the door carefully and back away from the appliance. Finally he looks up and you see how hard he’s trying not to laugh, pretty lips pressed tight and dark eyes dancing in the late afternoon sun. He shrugs and can’t hold back his smile any longer. “You can’t be good at everything, princessa.” You sigh, acknowledging how terrible that chicken turned out. He chucks you under your chin and beats a retreat from the kitchen and your “creation”. “Let’s leave the cooking to the professionals from now on, yeah?”

Dave stares at the oven suspiciously from the doorway. You don’t blame him, you were in the kitchen for the entire dinner making process and even you weren’t entirely sure what was bubbling on the stove top. He takes a step back, a smile creasing his handsome face, hands up in surrender. “You know what. I think I might have some MRE’s in the basement still, I think I’ll just try my luck with those.” You roll your eyes and drag the garbage can over to you.

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pastellhunny · 4 years

Text

•Under the Red Sky•

Chapter 1. The Introduction

Alastor walked mindlessly down the side walk of a crimson world with an everlasting smile upon his lips. His golden yellow teeth sharp as razors always glaring at passerby's. With all the killing he could do Alastor found himself to be quite bored with things nothing that interesting has happened besides his normal day to day things like talking to Rosie and laughing about the other low life's flooding into hell. That's the thing though instead of evil and tormented petrified souls coming to the place they belong in they're getting fished out like side dishes at an all you can eat buffet. The yearly purge or "cleanse" as it's called due to overcrowding flushes out hundreds upon hundreds of demons every 666 days. Alastors smile stretched as he remembered that the all mighty god and his children orchestrate this event. "How pitiful" Alastor thought to himself. A God who destroys his own misbehaved children by having his well behaved children wipe them out of existence. Ironic maybe..

Alastors thoughts were interrupted by the sound of static and a female voice singing, an annoying sound to him at most, the tv static not the singing. Thanks to his "pal" Vox just hearing the incoherent noises a tv makes in it's void of connection makes him wretch. But still with a smile on his face he turned to the source. Almost instantly demons crowded around the class that guarded the tvs. A flicker of intrigue shined through the red demons florescent eyes as he looked on at the screens. A closer look was indeed needed as the princess of hell herself was beaming upon the screens. Alastor stepped forward his presence alone sent chills down the other demons spines as they swiftly moved away from the radio demon. On the screen the princess of hell seemed to have been promoting that new hotel that was built. yet she was singing about a "happy hotel?" Alastor laughed to himself, "What and absolute sham.." Yet Alastor couldn't shake the feeling of interest the young demoness sparked within him. He certainly couldn't resist after a quite hilarious fight broke out between the princess and one of the demon news reporters. "Oh what a nasty brawl wish i were there in person to see!" Alastor yet again laughed to himself, his mind was made up and his boredom seemed to be quenched, it had found its next source.

Charlie returned back to the hotel which in a sense was her home. Well especially since she lived there after all. After a sh!t show that was the news broadcasts only meant to promote he hotel she felt quite terrible. An overbearing feeling of dread filled her as she suspected her fathers words to be true. Vaggie and Angel were getting into it so charlie just slipped out the front door to make a quick call to her mother. Not that her mother would return it, it just felt nice to at least pretend like someone was listening to her.

Little did she know someone was listening to her. Alastor had arrived at just the right time to see a gleam of dispair shine through the usual happy and giddy princess. A side he figured lingered within her like everyone else but seeing a lady cry never made Alastor happy. Alastor stood proper and prim as he made his way over to the damsel in distress only to have her turn and shut the door on his nose as soon as he reached out to tap her on the shoulder.

Charlie walked back inside and closed the door but not a second later a knock came to the door with the sound of radio static outside. Charlie's eyes widened as she carefully reached for the and opened it to reveal a demon in a red suit and color scheme.

"Hell-" the door closed but charlie's opened it again to make sure what she saw was real.

"lo!-" she closed it again.

"Oh god." she said aloud to herself. She opened the door slowly this time and peered her head around it carefully.

"May i speak now?" the Radio demon said as his smile widened. His eyes lowered to her soft rosy cheeks. "what a sight" Alastor thought.

"Um you may but can i ask are you here to be redeemed?" Charlie asked with a glint of hope and a little smile on her face.

Alastor noticed this little smile it made his eyes soften for a moment before he went back to his usual demeanor. He opened the door with a burst of energy letting himself in. "HAHAHhaha, no ofcourse not my dear!"

Charlie was a bit bewildered, "Then why are you here? Please if you've come to mock me you can let yourself out i know you've probably seen the news anyway." Charlie said as she gestured towards the door with a bit of sadness in her voice.

"What? No ofcourse i don't want to mock you my dear! Why that show was quite entertaining and it's just what i was looking for!" Alastor beamed as he projected his voice enough for the other patrons, aka Angel and Vaggie, to hear.

"Oh yeah and what's that?" Charlie asked referring to what he was searching for.

"Why something to cure my boredom you devilish girl!~" Alastor said whilst spinning round charlie and ending with an arm around her shoulder and his face awfully close to hers

Charlie blushed at the sudden closeness and creeped her way back to her own little bubble. "So you're gonna help with the hotel just cause you're bored?"

"Precisely! Let's call this investment for my entertainment." Al said with a big showy smile on his face once again leaning down to meet charlie's gaze and popping her little personal bubble of space. "I want to watch the scum of the earth and all sinners alike climb the ladder of redemption only to fall back down in the firery pit of failure" Al finished with a red glow in his eyes along with an amused expression at the very thought of it.

"Um Yeah." Charlie brushes off nervously. Just then the other patrons, aka Vaggie and Angel come scurrying you're see who the new person was.

"Oh hey guys." Charlie said with a nervous smile as the tall red demon loomed over her and stared at the other patrons with a sickening smile.

"Oh charlie tell me you did not just make a deal with the radio demon!?" Vaggie blurred out as she drew her spear and pointed it at Al.

"No no relax Vaggie i didn't make any-"

"Unless you'd like to make a deal my dear!" Al quickly proposed as his brow furrowed and his smile widened.

"NO no no deals! Okay?" if charlie knew anything it was to not make any deals with a demon let alone the radio demon himself.

Angel piped in with a little giggle, "What? you scared of this guy. He looks like a strawberry pimp HA!"

Vaggie slapped Angel on one of his arms, "Show some respect he could kill us in the blink of an eye." she said quietly as she gritted her teeth.

A little rumble of static sifted its way through the air around Alastor not before stopping the moment Charlie turn to Al suspiciously.

"Okay so no deals but by the power and status invested in me i hear by ask you to stay and aid the hotel.. for as long as you'd like... and no tricks or voodoo magic or anything got it." Charlie finished as she eyed Alastor up and down.

"You have my word my dear." Al said with an unusually more sinister smile than before. Little did Charlie know his shadow had its claws crossed. Al stood confident as he forged an idea of what exactly he could obtain from this little adventure with the princess. His smile grew ever so widely, his pupils small he had somewhat of a deranged look in his eyes as he realized what he really wanted to do. He laughed to himself quietly as Vaggie and Charlie talked back and forth about their situation. "Those angels will get what they deserve and so will the big man upstairs." and with that thought Al stepped forward and swooped his arm around Charlie as he pulled her forward and away from Vaggie. "Now come my dear enough of this senseless bickering its time to do business!"

(So the rest just follows in suit to what happens in the pilot, like Alastor bringing Nifty and Husk into the whole ordeal.)(to note Charlie and Vaggie are not together in this au but still are really close friends)

A few weeks have passed since Alastor joined the gang. No other demon has showed up to the hotel other than to maybe throw food or make fun of the mere idea of the hotel. Funny thing is even if Alastor has no care for the cause he still scared the living daylights out of anyone trying to tarnesh the hotel and its name. On the outside could be mistaken for Alastors boredom getting the better of him, afterall demon hunting was a fun hobby of his. Yet perhaps it was something deeper than that that kept him around going out of his way to do things for the hotel. Besides what Alastor was plotting, the hotel was rather enjoyable especially when the princess would be around him. He did enjoy her company though and found himself to do things in her favor. Maybe just to please her to get closer to her and his goal or rather something else. Alastor shook away his thoughts when he saw the young princess scurrying around like a madman. "What is she up to?"

Al snuck up behind Charlie as she fumbled around with books looking to be some sort of old phone books.

"My dear may i ask what you're doing?" Alastor said whilst leaning over with a curious grin on his face.

Charlie jumped in surprise, "Oh god you scared me Al"

Al huh a new nickname for him but he didn't appose to the sudden change. He kinda liked how comfortable she was getting.

"I'm just uh sorting through some old phone books to see if i can rent out a place for the hotel" Charlie said as she flipped through pages.

"Space? Don't we have enough of that here! haha" Alastor joked while he spun and gestured to the wide open space of the main area.

"Yes but it's not preferable for dancing." Charlie laughed with a little smile.

A sudden radio blip crackled through Alastor.

Charlie thought to herself "Did that startled him?"

"Dancing? DANCING? Why my dear no need to waste money this room exact is perfect for a ball. Why i'll have this place ready in no time for you my dear-"

Charlie jumped up and put her arms on Als shoulder for just a second then retracted them a little out of fear but just to calm him down. "Hey, hey that's okay look i know we have plenty of room i just don't want the hotel trashed by people who don't even care about it."

Al noticed the sudden jerk of her arms when they retreated. Another blip cracked through him with a little static as he tilted his head to the side with a smile. For a moment Charlie mistook it for sadness in his smile but when she looked again it was gone and back to its normal sinister self.

Alastor hummed in response then took up a few books.

"Hey i need those?" Charlie said with a confused look on her face.

Angel who was passed out at the bar awoke to a giant book being slammed next to his face.

"AGHHHHHHH jeez what'd you do that for smiles?!" Angel cried as he jumped up from his nap.

"Hey you insulant porn star help Charlie look for a dance room or so help me." Alastor threatened as static loomed around him and radio cracks and blips seemed through but this was to no avail.

"Yes sir, i like it when you take charge~" Angel commented with a perverted joke as always and a wide smug smile present on his face.

Alastor pretended he didn't hear that and reluctantly went over to Vaggie. Him and Vaggie haven't gotten along in the slightest since his arrival at the hotel. He glared at her as he handed her the book, Vaggie sneered at him as she took the book from his grasp. And with that Al gave a book to both Husk and Nifty and had the whole hotel staff searching for a place.

⎯

part 2 part 3

#chalastor #charlastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #charlastor fanfic #hazbin fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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uzumaki-rebellion · 4 years

Text

“Wet Sugar” [Part 23 of 30]

Summary: Erik and Yani face a new reality...

youtube

"I'm gonna look for my body, yeah I'll be back like real soon I'm gonna look for my body, yeah I'll be back like real soon I'm gonna look for my body, yeah I'll be back like real soon

But you know that a king is only a man With flesh and bones he bleeds just like you do He said "Where does that leave you" And "Do you belong?" I do I do

Be leery 'bout your place in the world You're feeling like you're chasing the world You're leaving not a trace in the world But you're facing the world…"

Solange – "Weary"

Erik stood in the lobby of the hospital and stared at the information desk. His feet felt like one hundred-pound weights were attached to them. Pulling out his cell he looked at Twyla's number and rested his fingers on the call button. His stomach churned and his chest felt like someone was stepping down on it.

"Killmonger…"

Erik turned his head to the left and saw Yani's baby sister Anika holding two cans of soda. She stood near a soda machine with swollen eyes and a puffy face. He exhaled fast and walked over to her.

"Am I…is she—"

Anika's face broke and Erik felt his legs buckle. She reached out to steady him.

"She still here. But she's so weak."

Erik wiped his hand over his face a few times and took in deep breaths.

"They are only letting family up to see her—"

"I'll get him in…"

Erik turned to see Leona.

"Miss Leona…I got here as fast as I could. Twyla got in touch with me…"

"I know. She told me."

Leona rubbed his back and Erik could barely hold it together.

"Come here," she said.

Her arms went around his shoulders and Erik leaned into her hug and felt his body shudder.

"You the strong one. I need you to be so strong for her right now…her and the baby…"

"How are you gonna get him in?"

"He's family. C'mon."

Leona led him to the information desk and Erik watched the woman lie to the duty nurse. He was led to a room and given a face mask and a robe and asked to scrub up thoroughly for precautions. Those with the virus were quarantined to one section of the hospital with limited in-room visitors.

When he followed Leona to the elevator, Anika started weeping. Leona reached out and held her arm.

The floor they went to felt solemn and the walk to Sydette's room took forever to reach with the heaviness in Erik's legs. His breath came in shallow puffs and he willed himself to be a solid wall of support. For them.

Twyla sat on a chair outside of a room with Yani's mother and Cee Cee. Kendall stood across from them with Chez and Yani's father.

"Why is he here?" Chez asked.

Twyla stood up.

"I asked him to come," Twyla said.

Yani's mother glared at him.

"He's not—"

"I told them downstairs that he was family. He was close to the baby, you all know this," Leona said.

"He's not blood," Chez said with weak conviction in his voice.

The man looked worn out. Erik's heart went out to him. He had lost one child already and was facing—

Erik focused his eyes on the closed door of Sydette's room. Leona touched his hand before she pulled up her face mask.

"Try and prepare yourself…she doesn't look—"

"I can handle it," he said.

Erik took another look at Chez and the man looked defeated.

"Your daughter is very special to me. I'm not here to bring drama."

Kendall gave Erik a head nod and Yani's father didn't even look at him. His eyes were downcast and his fingers were clasped tight. He rocked a bit in his seat. Chez leaned against the wall and waved his hand at Erik.

Leona opened the door and Erik held his breath.

Stepping in the room, the first thing he saw was the little mattress inside a toddler-sized incubator. A tube was down the baby's throat and half her face was covered with a breathing mask. Tubes were stuck in her thin arms, and a feeding tube was down her nose. Erik was shocked at how tiny she had become. It had been so long since he had seen Sweet Pea, and she had always been his plump little girl with quick chunky legs, and a big personality. She was just a tiny husk of a thing lying on the bed. He sucked in air the moment he saw her and his hands shook.

Yani was draped in a gown and her right hand was stuck inside a protective glove that allowed her to hold Sydette's hand inside the incubator. Another older woman sat next to her stroking her back, and when the woman glanced back at Erik, Yani turned her head also.

Her eyes were so drained of life that Erik felt one loose tear fall on his face staining his mask.

"How…?" she whispered.

Leona pulled Erik toward the incubator. The other woman stood up to make room.

"That's Chez's mother," Leona whispered to him.

Chez's mother moved to the other side of Sydette, her eyes hard on Erik's face.

"Sit," Leona said.

Erik took a cautious seat next to Yani. Her eyes went back to her child. She wiped her face with her other hand.

"Hey, Sweet Pea. Baba's here," she said.

Up close, Erik still couldn't believe it was Sydette.

"Hi, short stuff. I got here as fast as I could. Flew across the big water…"

He placed a hand on the glass and Yani pulled her hand out from the protective glove. She touched Erik's hand.

"Go ahead," she said, nudging his hand toward the incubator.

Erik slipped his hand inside and let one finger touch Sydette's right thumb. He stroked it for a moment, then lifted her small hand. She felt lifeless. Unreal. Erik rested his forehead in his left hand trying to hold his composure.

He prayed to get there in time, and now that he was, it almost felt worse than if he had just arrived after she…

He shook the thought away.

"Ms. Galiber—"

A short Black woman in a Doctor's smock walked in.

"Could I speak with you outside in private please?"

Yani nodded and stood up. Before she left his side, she turned to Erik, pulled down her mask, and kissed his forehead. The warmth from her lips made him close his eyes. Chez's mother jumped up and followed Yani out of the room. When she left, Leona sat in her seat and Twyla slipped into the room.

"They are only allowing three people in the room at a time," Leona said.

Erik focused on Sydette. He brought his face closer to the glass so that he could see the girl's closed eyes that faced his way. He slipped his mask down.

"It ain't time for you to go Lil Mama…cuz I said so."

Erik's eyes sought out Leona's.

"There's nothing they can do?"

"They've done all they could. They don't want her on the machine much longer because it will eventually damage her lungs because they are so small, but she may be too weak to breathe on her own and—"

Leona's lips trembled and Erik put his arm around her shoulder.

"—all the others…they passed away when they were taken off. Sydette's sister Star only lasted an hour when they took her off. Oh, Jesus! It has been a nightmare for all of us…especially Chez."

Erik reached up with his hand to touch Sydette's curls.

"Still wearing her hair all over the place I see."

"That's the only way she likes it," Twyla said tugging down her mask. A smile inched its way on her lips.

"I'm happy you are here, Mr. Killmonger," Leona said.

"Erik."

He held Sydette's hand again and his mind went back in time to when he was a little dude and he wasn't feeling good. His mother would make him some chicken tortilla soup and his Baba would sing to him and make the world and his body feel so much better. His favorite song was the one his father sang before he was born, the one his mother told Erik was sung to her belly while he kicked inside of her.

Erik hummed it under his breath, and when he was sure of the words, he moved even closer to the glass.

"Mother Moon comes down from the heavens to see the new little one…"

Twyla moved into the seat next to his and cradled her face in her hands.

"Lullaby, little one, the world is at your feet…."

Erik did the best imitation of his father's voice singing to Sydette and he felt his heart swell as the lyrics danced out of his mouth. He did a passable English translation while maintaining the Wakandan rhythm of the song.

"Where shall the little one rest their tiny head, eh? Shall the soft grass rise up? Shall the soft clouds climb down? Lullaby, little one…this whole wide world is yours…"

When he finished, Erik rested his hand on Sydette's chest to feel her heartbeat.

"Please…please…don't leave," he whispered.

He rested his forehead on the glass and wept.

Leona walked back into the room followed by the rest of the family. Her eyes held no more hope.

"They want to take her off—"

Leona's head dropped and Kendall pulled her aside as Yani and Chez took shaky steps to the incubator together.

Twyla's hand shot out and grabbed Erik's. He squeezed it and removed his right hand from the protective glove. Yani's mother started wailing and Twyla jumped up to help her back out of the room with Yani's father.

Erik felt untethered, and watching Yani and Chez move as a unit made him feel like an intruder. That was his baby girl lying there, but those were her parents. He stood and took one last look at Sydette.

This was not how he wanted to remember her.

"You can stay," Yani said to him. Her hand touched his wrist.

He shook his head.

"I can't. I don't want to…"

Her face pleaded with him.

Be her rock.

Erik stepped back behind her and gave space for Chez and Kendall. Yani's sister Anika and her other middle sister Dawnette stood on the other side of the room. They left enough space for the doctor and a nurse to open up the incubator.

"Wait—"

Yani's hands were balled up into tight fists. Chez held her arm.

"I don't want to let her go!"

Erik stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her chest from behind.

"I'm not ready…I'm not ready…"

Yani's voice pierced Erik's soul.

Chez's head dropped down and he shook where he stood.

"Yani," Chez whispered, "we don't want her to be in pain. Her body can't take any more from the machine."

Yani moaned in her mouth and her hand shot out to touch her child without any protection.

"Mama's right here…"

Anika ran out of the room followed by Dawnette and the doctor watched Yani's face. Erik felt Yani's body drop and he turned her toward him and held her tight. She clutched at his back.

"Baby. You are here for her. I know you not ready. None of us are. But she knows you're here."

Yani pressed her face into his neck and he stroked her back softly.

"I got you," he whispered.

"That's my baby—"

"I know—"

"I'm scared. I'm scared for her—"

"Don't be. You are so strong for her. Always have been. Let Sweet Pea feel that…"

Yani nodded her head and she turned back around. Erik felt her body tremble against his but she nodded for the doctor and nurse to continue.

The doctor was efficient and moved quickly to remove the breathing tube. They left the drip tubes in Sydette's arms, and when her face was free from the mask, the doctor and nurse stepped back. They could all hear Sydette's heart monitor, and Yani held her daughter's hand. The stillness in the room was unnerving and Erik held onto Yani for his own comfort. Chez's eyes were closed and Erik could only imagine the horror he felt going through this once more. He reached out a free hand and held Chez's shoulder.

Sydette kept breathing on her own and the doctor checked monitors with the nurse.

"Sweet Pea, I'm here…"

Yani kept stroking Sydette's fingers as they all watched her chest move faintly without the help of the breathing tube. It was a steady rhythm. Erik glanced over at the doctor again. The longer they stood there, the more the doctor's expression changed. What was once a grim face started to look a little hopeful.

"Let's give her a little bit of oxygen," the doctor said.

The nurse placed the breathing mask back over Sydette's nose and mouth. There wasn't a change in her condition. Twenty minutes in, Erik had Yani sit down in a chair next to Chez.

When an hour passed the doctor asked everyone except for Yani and Chez to leave the room.

"What's happening?" Anika asked with her sister Dawnette by her side.

"The doctor asked us to leave. Sydette is still breathing," Leona said with a tinge of hope in her voice.

Anika's face broke out into a weak smile.

"She gonna make it—"

"I don't know but she is still here. God is good," Leona said.

"All the time…" Yani's mother answered.

The two women held hands and Anika hugged her sister Dawnette.

Erik wanted to embrace the creeping of hope, but his life experiences always prepared him for the worst possible outcome. He sat down on a chair next to Yani's father and closed his eyes. Jet lag crawled over him and he tried to keep alert in case there were changes in Sydette's condition, but the weariness of the world pressed down on him and he knocked out.

###

"Big man…wake up…"

Erik's eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was disoriented. His lower back pressed against the hard seat he slept on sitting up.

"Here…"

Twyla handed him a cup of coffee in a thick paper cup.

"Sweet Pea…?"

His body jerked forward and she pushed him back in his seat.

"Alive and according to the doctor, has a real good chance of recovery if she keeps improving."

Erik looked toward one of the hospital windows and saw that it was bright daylight.

"What time is it?"

"Ten in the morning."

"Is Yani—"

"She's sleeping in the room with Sydette. Chez went home to check on Ursula. He'll be back."

Erik sipped from the cup. The bitter brew revived him.

"Can we go in and see them?"

"The doctor wants to keep all of us out except for Yani and Chez for now."

"Is Sydette awake?"

"Not yet. It's still wait and see. Her body has to fight on its own now."

Twyla plopped down next to him.

"Man. I'm not the praying type, but my ass was remembering every prayer from Sunday school," Twyla said.

Erik laughed.

"You and me both. Some of my Nana's oldie but goodies were popping up in my sleep," he said.

Twyla stared at his face.

"Yuh came through for my cousin. And my baby cousin. Thank you."

"Thank you for reaching out. I don't know how I would be if you didn't tell me…if she…you know…while I wasn't here."

"You were good to Chez too."

"I don't know how he'll handle this when it's over. And Star…shit…"

Twyla shook her head.

"Star was a sweet baby. I know she came here in a way we all didn't like, but before she passed, they all got close. Yani sometimes kept Star for Ursula when she had to work and Chez wasn't available to stay home. Somehow, they worked that shit out like adults. Mi never think that possible. Alla that bad blood between them? Tuh. Sydette loved her sister though. Them was cute together-"

Twyla burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said with a soft voice.

"Don't apologize."

"I can't wait to get Sydette out of here. There's too much death around us."

"I feel ya."

Erik glanced around.

"Everyone else leave?"

"Some are downstairs resting on the lobby couches. The older folks went home to rest. They'll be in and out as we get more updates."

"Maybe you should go home and rest."

"No. I stay until that little girl walks out of here."

Erik's eyes looked past Twyla as he spotted Yani leaving the room. Her eyes darted around and when she saw him, she smiled. He stood up and went to her.

"Hey—"

"Her eyes are moving back and forth. Like she's dreaming. I think she's gonna wake up soon."

Yani's eyes were shiny.

"That's good to hear—"

"Twyla said you sang to her. Can you come in and sing to her again? Maybe…maybe it will help her?"

She clasped his hand in hers.

The doctor returned and stepped into the room. Yani pulled Erik in with her.

Sydette still looked weak, but she was hanging on. The incubator now had oxygen pumped inside of it instead of the baby wearing a mask. The feeding tube was back down her nose again. He hated seeing that.

They sat next to each other in the chairs near the bed.

"Sweet Pea, Baba came to sing to you."

Erik felt a little shy. Singing wasn't his thing. Yani had heard him bludgeon songs for Sydette before at the compound. But he never sang Lullaby Little One until he was at the hospital.

Yani's eyes regarded his. Her face was so vibrant. Erik turned to look at Sydette. He cleared his throat and sang the first two stanzas. He reached his hand inside the protective glove and held the baby's hand. The grin on Yani's face was worth the wobbliness of his voice.

Touching Sydette's cheek, he finished up what he could remember until he saw the baby's eyes flutter open. Her eyes fell on his and Yani clutched Erik's arm so hard he could feel her nails.

"Hi baby girl," Yani said.

Erik removed his hand from the one protective glove he used and let Yani slips her hands into both.

They both stared at Sydette as her eyes tried to focus on them. The tube down her nose startled her and she started to cry, but they were both happy to hear the sound.

"Mama's right here…oh, I know, I know, that nasty tube doesn't feel so good. Yuh hear Baba singing? Did his voice make you cry?"

Erik started laughing and Yani's eyes twinkled at him. She nudged his shoulder with hers.

"I have to call Chez," she said.

Yani freed one hand and reached for her cell on the hospital nightstand. The nurse returned and was delighted to see that Sydette was awake.

"Can I hold her? Not with the gloves, but my own hands?" Yani asked.

"Let me check with the doctor first," the nurse said observing Sydette's heart rate.

Erik stood up and headed for the door.

"I'll be back," he said when Yani's eyes questioned his movement.

He stepped into the corridor and rummaged through his duffle bag. Pulling out his toiletry bag he looked for the Men's Room. He found it and rinsed his hands with cool water. Splashing water on his face he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked worn down and he watched his eyes water. His left hand clutched at his face and he felt relief flood his body.

Erik brushed his teeth and used mouth wash to rinse away the sourness he was tasting. His back hurt and he was still feeling weary. Returning to the corridor, he sat near his bag and rested his eyes until he heard Chez return. He swept past Erik with the doctor and entered Sydette's room. He listened to Chez's excited voice at seeing his daughter awake and when Erik stood to look into the room, he saw Yani holding Sydette in her arms with Chez holding onto the girl's hand.

"Where yuh going?" Twyla asked.

Erik hoisted his duffle bag on his shoulder.

"I'm going to get a hotel room."

"You won't stay at the compound?"

"I don't want them knowing I'm back just yet. I'll go back in a few days."

"You still look whooped from your trip. I'll keep you in the loop."

Twyla peeked into the room and saw Yani and Chez sitting together and holding their child. Yani's eyes swept up and saw them watching her from the hall. Erik held up a hand to her and walked away.

"Let us know where you'll be," Twyla called after him.

He nodded and pressed an elevator button.

###

When Sydette was able to have the feeding tube removed and eat regular food again, Yani felt like their life could go on. Chez did all he could to be with their daughter as she recovered, but he was in the midst of planning a funeral and grieving with Ursula and her family. Whatever tenuous family understanding they had prior to Star's death vanished. Yani felt sorry for Chez. He wanted to stay and comfort his living daughter and not have to deal with the pain of consoling his other family that blew his cell up every time he visited the hospital. Ursula's loss was one that Yani was grateful to bypass, and it made her hold Sydette tight every time she held her baby in her arms.

"Go stay with her. We'll be home soon and you can see Sweet Pea after the funeral. Your woman has a hole in her heart and you should tend to that. We'll be here."

Yani watched Chez rock Sydette in his arms. He was so attentive and tender with her.

"We won't survive this, Yani."

His eyes looked dry and wounded.

"We struggled to make shit work, but yuh know how it is. She was always jealous of you…we fought all the time—"

"Not in front of Sweet Pea and Star I hope—"

"We was just maintaining, Yani. For Star's sake. Now our baby is gone and…what's the point? We don't love each other. Not the way yuh 'sposed to for a family to work."

He looked down at Sydette's peaceful face.

"Star was the only thing that made us."

"You need to hold it together for she homegoing, Chez. You need to stand together for Sydette's sister. You owe that baby girl. And this one here."

"The funeral will be held at Ursula's mother's church. Friday."

"I'll be there."

Chez's cell buzzed again and he shook his head.

"Go," Yani said, taking Sydette from his arms.

Her own phone vibrated on the chair next to her and she saw it was Zachary. He had been in Florida interviewing for jobs and planning to make a permanent move stateside as soon as he could find work. She texted him a quick message letting him know that Sydette was better and would be going home soon. There were so many people she was behind on getting in touch with. Twyla and Anika were a big help in informing non-family, but as it stood, Yani was just ready to turn the world off and get her baby home safe.

"I'll leave when I'm ready."

Sydette woke up when the nurse came in and Yani allowed the woman to check her.

"I changed her pull-ups already," Yani said.

The nurse checked Sydette's temperature and marked her results on the medical chart hanging against the bed.

"Her appetite is coming back," Yani said.

"That's good," the nurse said. She hooked Sydette's arm to a drip line again to give her more fluids.

"Yuh thinking of moving to Florida with Zachary?"

Yani glared at Chez.

"Zachary and I are friends—"

"Be real, Yani. You were with him before that other dude, and I know you want to go stateside one day. Better opportunities there."

"He wahn mi to transfer schools. I'll finish here first before I think of doing anything."

"If you can get away from here…do it. Take our baby someplace bigger. I'm thinkin' of leaving…"

"Where yuh go, huh? Your mother would have a fit."

"Nothing here for mi. Can't make no real money."

Chez's phone buzzed again.

The nurse handed Sydette back to Yani. She was wide awake and anxious to lay against Yani's breast.

Chez leaned over and kissed Sydette's cheek. He stood up and tucked his phone in his pocket.

"If Zachary can help you get a good life, take it."

"I can make mi own good life for us."

Chez nodded.

"See you soon," he said.

Yani watched him leave then looked down at her daughter.

"If Mama still had milk, you'd have it Sweet Pea."

"Hello there! How are we today?"

The doctor swept in full of the good cheer Yani really needed to feel at that moment.

Sydette's eyes looked tired again and she yawned wide.

"Some good news. Sydette's vitals look very good. Heart rate back to normal and she's putting on good weight. The viral load is undetectable and not contagious at this point anymore. You can take her home tomorrow. I want to keep her under observation for one more night, and then we can schedule check-ups."

Yani burst into tears and the doctor touched her shoulder.

"I know it's been a rough road to travel, but this little girl is one of the lucky ones. A little fighter."

"Thank you," Yani said wiping her face.

"This virus is simmering down on the island. The worst of it is over for now."

"Could Sydette get it again? I mean, if there were another outbreak?"

"It's always possible. But Sydette may have developed anti-bodies to help her in the future for this type of virus."

"But viruses mutate—"

"True, and unfortunately, we don't have the proper medicines developed to combat this particular strain. Your daughter's genetic make-up may have played a role in protecting her. She may have already had the natural anti-bodies in her system to help fight this virus on her own."

"Yuh blessed, Sweet Pea."

Sydette pressed her face into Yani's chest with droopy eyes. She fell asleep to the gentle rocking Yani gave her.

"How many children are still fighting this?"

"In this hospital, we still have three quarantined and I can't say how they will fare. Hopefully, they will come through like Sydette. The other hospitals have a total of five. And there are some adults and elderly spread throughout. A little over a dozen."

Yani asked more specific medical questions and the doctor was impressed.

"I'm studying to be a nurse," Yani said.

"You ask some very compelling questions."

"I want to work as a nurse/midwife, but since this has happened…I think maybe I want to work with sick children."

The doctor talked with Yani a bit more until she was needed for another patient. The woman was kind enough to give Yani her number in case she had more questions about pediatric nursing.

Yani rocked her daughter some more and thought about what Chez said.

Florida.

More opportunities.

For someone who had always been controlling, it sounded weird hearing him push her toward Zachary. In the past, she may have agreed with that idea. But with Klaue and Killmonger's money, she didn't need to anchor herself to anyone for survival. She had the means to take care of herself and daughter on her own.

She mulled the idea over and watched her baby slumber in her arms.

###

Yani knew Erik was on the fence about going to the funeral, but she texted him and asked that he join her. Some of her family were not going because of their hurt over Ursula and Chez doing Yani wrong. But a few—Twyla, Kendall, and Monice—were going because they knew Chez and wanted to pay their respects to Sydette's sister.

Yani left Sydette at home with her sister Anika. She worried about exposing Sydette to the outside so early, and she also didn't feel right about bringing her daughter to a funeral, family or not.

She wore big dark glasses and a black scarf over her head. The dark dress she bought was a little too long and she had to hold up the hem when she walked. Sitting in the back of the church with her cousins, Yani could feel the grief in the entire church pressing in all around her. It wasn't a big church, but it was big enough to draw a large crowd of people who knew Chez's family well. Yani couldn't even look at the front of the funeral program or inside of it. The big photo of Star sitting on a tricycle broke her heart, and inside the program, there were pictures of Star and Sydette together. She couldn't help but think that this could've been her same fate. Her entire family could've been in a similar church watching Yani fall out like Ursula was doing in front of the mourners. Twyla passed Yani some tissues and she wiped her eyes under her glasses.

"Yani."

Kendall whispered to her and when she looked over at him, he was staring at the aisle.

Killmonger stood there in a dark shirt and slacks with shades on. Yani scooted over in the pew to make room for him on the end. The choir sang a hymn and she was cognizant of the warmth seeping into her from Erik's side pressed next to hers in the packed pew. His body heat always made her feel safe and she leaned against him more. He raised his arm and placed it around her shoulder and she automatically pushed her face against his neck and wept. Ursula's sorrowful voice added to the lamentations throughout the church and Yani didn't think she could take much more. How could anyone really stomach the sight of a tiny pink and white coffin? Killmonger squeezed her shoulder and she stuffed the tissue in her hand under her nose.

"People always say that there's nothing harder than a parent losing a child…"

Chez's voice trembled and Yani turned away from Killmonger's neck to look at him. Ursula stood next to him with Chez's mother holding her hand. His words were sweet and he peppered them with stories of Sydette and Star. Yani could only wonder…if they had taken Star to the hospital sooner, would she still be alive like Sydette?

Other people stood up to speak and by the time the service was over and the congregation moved around to give condolences to the family, Yani was drained. She didn't want to walk up to Chez's or Ursula's family. Her cousins left the pew and made the solemn walk to the family, but Yani didn't budge. She stayed hugged up against Killmonger and wished she were somewhere else.

"Can you take me home?" she whispered.

Killmonger stood up and held out his hand for her. She took it and gave one last look at the back of Chez's head. She just couldn't do it. It was enough to be there for them.

Chez turned his head and looked back at her.

She steeled herself and raised her hand toward him. He gave a sad smile and waved back at her.

"I don't…I…"

Yani squeezed Killmonger's hand. A lump grew in her throat as her eyes watered.

The line of mourners grew smaller as Yani stood watching Chez and Ursula take more heartfelt condolences.

Once, not long before the children took ill, Yani had made some mild curried chicken roti and sat in front of her tv with Sydette and Star on each side of her hip. Both girls had their fingers outstretched and greedy mouths open as she finger fed them small pieces from her plate while trying to eat some herself. Star had snatched a piece and held it out for Sydette. Yani had put some chunky potato pieces in her roti and when Star handed it to Sydette they made a mess trying to gobble it up before Yani took it from them. Clearly, they had both inherited their father's appetite for food.

Yani sat with them lying on her lap as she touched Sydette's soft halo of curls and Star's silky ringlets, humming under her breath, thinking about giving them ice cream for dessert. She had just started calling Star Sunshine because of her infectious smile whenever she saw Sydette. The girl's face would just light up on sibling visits. Yani had fallen in love with the child and finally accepted that difficult and hurtful things happened in life that were not planned for, but there was always a way to turn it around and make peace with it. Not an easy peace, but one that wouldn't make her feel stuck.

Yani took a deep breath. She had to honor that baby's spirit.

"Killmonger…"

He walked with Yani up to the front of the church. They stood in front of Star's casket together.

"Alla we miss yuh Sunshine. Yuh Sweet Pea's special little angel now."

Yani reached out and touched the casket and then quickly clutched onto Killmonger's arm. He led her toward the family and Ursula started shaking as she wiped tissue in front of her eyes. Chez sat next to her but they were not close to one another. His eyes dragged up to Yani's face and she leaned down and hugged him. When she stood back up, Killmonger held her hand. She turned to Ursula and tried to give her some words, but Ursula turned her head away and clutched onto her mother who sat to her left. Yani's stomach tightened, and she pressed her lips together to keep from saying something she would regret. Maybe it was too much for Ursula to handle. Maybe it was a mistake to face them.

Killmonger guided her out of the church. Cars were already lining up for the processional to the gravesite. She saw Twyla and Monice heading to where they had parked, and Kendall lingered gazing up at her on the top step of the church.

"Will you go to the repast?" Kendall asked.

"No, I think I'll skip that."

Kendall stared at Killmonger.

"You'll take her home?" he asked.

"Yeah," Killmonger said.

Kendall blew Yani a kiss and made his way toward his cousins.

Killmonger walked her to a car that wasn't from the compound. He opened the passenger door for her and helped her in.

They were quiet for a few minutes as he maneuvered away from the church, but the moment they were free of the line of cars, Yani let out a long exhale that made her feel more centered.

"That was hard…I didn't think I could go up there…what could I tell them? Sorry sounds so trivial a thing to say—"

"Yani. It's ok-"

"I felt so selfish sitting there and just thinking about Sydette the whole time. Star was in that little coffin, and my mind was thinking of Sweet Pea eating a full lunch today."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I'm sure other parents in that church were thinking about their children too."

"I used to think horrible things about Ursula. I used to pray that she would lose her baby or that she was a lying whore and Star was someone else's…or she'd be run over in a car, or a big boulder would roll down a hill and squash her and Chez and their cheating family…and now…I feel like a shitty human. Star didn't deserve this. I should never have put that negative energy out into the world—"

"Yani…"

She focused her attention out of the window. When they finally reached the east side of the island, Yani became more clear-headed.

"How long are you back for?"

"Not long. Plans are in motion as always."

She stayed quiet the rest of the way and when they reached her apartment, they sat in the car for a time.

"Do you want to come up and see her? I want you to."

"I want to see her…I want to see you…"

"But?"

"This shit is gonna be surface-level here on out. I can't make anything real with you. With her. Not the way you want."

Yani laid her head back against the headrest.

"Come up and see her as my friend then."

She held her hand out to him. He threaded his fingers with hers.

They took their time walking up to the unit. Anika was surprised to see him, but she only gave a coy glance at Yani's face.

"She's in her room," Anika said.

"Sleep?"

"I just put her in there. She was feeling a little warm earlier, but she's fine now."

Yani walked into Sydette's room with Killmonger behind her. Sitting on the bed, she touched her daughter's forehead.

Killmonger lingered by the door.

The baby shifted under the covers.

"Hey, Sweet Pea. Mama's home."

Sydette's eyes fluttered open.

"Guess who's here?"

Yani moved aside so Sydette could see Killmonger in the doorway. He stepped forward and Yani watched Sydette's eyes track his movement.

"Lil Mama…"

Sydette recognized his voice and face, but she turned her head toward Yani. He came closer and sat next to Yani on the bed.

"Hey," he said.

His hand reached forward and touched her cheek and she clutched onto Yani's waist, ignoring Killmonger by hiding her face. Stroking her daughter's still too thin shoulders, Yani looked at Killmonger. The corners of his mouth were downturned and his eyes were shadowy orbs full of sadness.

"She must be tired still," Yani said.

Killmonger nodded and his eyes looked away from Sydette.

"I'll make us some tea, yeah?"

"Sure. Sounds good," he said.

She pulled the covers up around Sydette's chest but the girl fretted and reached for her again.

"I'll make the tea," he said.

He left the room and Yani looked down at her daughter.

"Why yuh do that, Sweet Pea, huh? Him come so far just for you…"

By the time she heard the tea kettle in her kitchen whistling, Sydette was asleep again. Yani took her temperature with a forehead thermometer. It was just a slightly elevated temperature.

"Still drinking tea with all that extra sugar?" he asked when she stepped into her living room.

Killmonger had two mugs in his hand. Red bush tea for himself, and plain black tea with milk for her. He handed her the drink and they sat on her couch as Anika gathered up a few books she had on the coffee table.

"She's had her Pedialyte with lunch and she went to the bathroom by herself on her potty chair. How were things?"

"Sad. But it was a nice service."

"Chez and Ursula?"

Yani shrugged.

Anika glanced at Killmonger again and clutched her books to her chest.

"I'll hang out in her room," Anika said.

Yani sipped her tea as her sister slinked away still eying Killmonger and giving a look to her.

"Anika's been staying with me since Sydette's been back home. Helping me out."

"That's good."

"You still staying at the hotel?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you for coming to the service today. You helped make it easier. I mean…funerals are never easy…but…"

His eyes made her jumpy and she had to look away from him. There was compassion there, but also a burning intimacy that felt so heavy with them alone in her living room. She finished drinking her tea and tried to come up with things to say to him. Pleasant things. Things that would make her forget the sadness of the day.

"How was your trip to London?"

"It was good."

"Your family is well?"

He nodded and his eyes were once again hypnotizing her. His lips. She tried not to look at his lush mouth, but she couldn't help it. Every detail of his face looked dazzling and new, and even with the strain they had all endured with Sydette, Killmonger still made her feel alive when he stared at her. Like he could see the real her. The one that was blossoming and becoming something new.

"I was really surprised when you and Klaue gave me that money—"

He set his mug down and moved closer to her.

"I don't want to talk about that. How are you feeling? Have you had any real rest? You been eating? Taking care of yourself?"

"I try. But I focus all my energy on her."

He touched her face.

"Are you hungry now? Want me to get you something to eat?"

"No, I've got food I can heat up later."

He stood up and held out his hand.

"C'mon. You should take a nap."

She could feel her body feeling grateful that he named out loud what she needed.

He took her to her room and she slipped off her kitten heels and stockings.

"I'll check with you late," he said.

"Stay."

His eyes went to the open bedroom door and the hallway. She walked over to her door and pushed it partially closed so she could hear Sydette.

Pulling the dress over her head, she saw how Killmonger's eyes rested on the black silk slip she wore under it. She pulled the covers back on her bed and crawled in, making room for him. Glancing at the door again, Killmonger unbuttoned his shirt.

"You can get comfortable, it's okay," she said.

He hesitated for only a second and then he pulled off his slacks and laid them on top of his shirt on her dresser. His dark boxer briefs had her eyes ghosting over the shape of his ass. Everything about him physically looked so different. Chiseled. Like he had been in deep training preparing for something intense. He climbed onto her bed and slipped under her comforter and sheet.

Placing her head on her pillow, she faced him and they stared at one another. Light from the late afternoon sky filtered through her bedroom window. Her fingers flexed in her left hand and she reached out and touched his cheek. He closed his eyes and before she knew it, he pulled her tight against him.

He smelled so good.

Sandalwood mixed with bergamot.

Clean and fresh and so warm.

His lips rested on her forehead and his right hand rubbed her lower back. His touch ignited her skin and the more he rubbed the silk against her, the more her nerve endings came alive. They couldn't even take a nap together without the need to touch one another.

She needed the comfort of him next to her and didn't hesitate to tilt her head and kiss him. It took little to encourage him and his mouth opened the moment her tongue licked the middle of his lips. His tongue tasted of the natural sweetness of the red tea he drank and it made her mouth water as his tongue slid against hers. Yani heard herself whimpering when his hands cradled her neck and face.

She moaned in his mouth once she realized it had been so long since her body felt anything other than pain and sorrow. Stress. Fear. Physical sensations of pleasure had been stunted since Sydette's illness. Pleasure in eating good food. Pleasure in bathing. Pleasure in laughter or companionship. Pleasure in seeing her baby girl smile. Pleasure in dancing, or singing, or being alive.

She would've lost her mind if Sydette had left her.

But this man, kissing her as only he could, had rushed over an ocean the moment he was told Sydette was in trouble. Sang to her child and told her she wasn't allowed to leave the world. He stood with Yani when the doctor was essentially cutting the life cord away from her baby.

He once told her that he was almost killed and that she had saved his life by being a lifeline for him. This dangerous man in her bed had now done the same for her daughter. She wanted to believe that.

She touched Killmonger's face. He was still hers and she would always be his. He might be able to maintain a surface level relationship, but she knew she never could. And she knew that her heart would be broken again, but it was worth it. To feel like this. With him.

The headiness of his mouth on hers eased away all the tightness and tension she carried just trying to get through that day. She could feel his body reacting to her and he pulled his lips away. He turned her to face away from him so he could spoon against her. The consuming heat from his skin lulled her into a deep needful slumber.

When she woke up hours later with her arm flung over her head, she rolled over to look at Killmonger and found Sydette curled up on his chest.

Both of them sound asleep.

###

Chp. 24 Here

Tag List:

@fd-writes @soufcakmistress @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon @thadelightfulone

@allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky

@raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514 @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling

@chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry @honeytoffee @meilintheempressofdreams

@tyees @eye-raq @writerbee-ffs @chocolatedream30

#wet sugar #killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens #n'jadaka #klaue #black panther fanfiction #uzumaki rebellion #daddymonger

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my-happy-little-bean · 4 years

Text

The Day The Sun Fell - Chapter 1

pairing: logan/patton words: 4478 story summary: “The story of Logan and Patton from the day they met, to the day the sun fell.

(aka the story of logan and patton told a bit out of order. also the apocalypse happened, which is weird huh?)

warnings for both chapters: swearing; fighting; sad, apocalyptic vibes in general; sickness; implied death(s)

a/n - hello! this is a repost of a semi-old fic of mine that is written in like a non-linear format, which is always super fun ~

i will be linking the next chapter at the end of the chapter, and the masterlist + the link to the entire work on ao3 here if you’d like it :)

stay cool, u cool cats ✨

[read on ao3]

[masterlist]

---

Logan stood at the edge of the cliff, facing only Patton and nothing else.

It was illogical– no, stupid to look anywhere else. Below them was a sea of nothing and above them was a sky full of anything ; though it wasn’t as reassuring as one would hope.

But in front of him was everything , because in front of him was Patton.

Sweet, sweet Patton.

Logan wrapped his arms around Patton’s waist, which was shaking with the rest of his body. He was in full sobs now. He sighed, pressing his forehead to Patton’s.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly, closing his eyes. He could feel the sun beat on his back. He pulled Patton closer to him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I-I–” Patton’s words came out as mere husks of what should be words. Logan shook his head.

“ It’s okay ,” he said again.

“I-I’m so scared. ”

“I know.”

“What if one of us lives ?” Patton murmured, his sobs wracking his entire body. He doubled over into Logan’s chest, throwing his arms around Logan as if he was hanging onto the only lifeboat on deck. “W-What if one of us lives and– and you are dead and–”

“Patton…”

“I don’t want to be alone.” Patton was clinging onto him. Tears were streaming down Logan’s face now. He took a deep breath and simply tilted Patton’s chin so he could look up at him.

“You’re not going to be alone.” The winds roared louder now. Despite now being face-to-face with Logan, Patton was squeezing his eyes shut, shaking at the noise.

Logan could feel Patton’s heart race, they were so close.

(He tried to memorize the ba-bump, bump, bump of his heartbeat. He tried to focus on it, make it the last thing he remembered, tried to remember that he was his– )

“ God, I-I hate this.” Logan felt his heart breaking at Patton’s broken voice. “I wish–”

“ No, ” Logan said firmly. Patton opened his eyes and looked at him. Even when he was squinting, Patton's brown eyes seemed so wide and filled with so much wonder.

Logan moved his arms from Patton’s waist to his back, enveloping him into a tight hug. He could barely keep his eyes open from how bright it was.

Still, he did his best to look at Patton.

(It’s all going to be okay, he was with him. )

“You didn’t need to wish for anything else,” Logan finally said. “Things went just as they were supposed to, you know?”

He buried his face in the crook of Patton’s neck. “ I’m so happy. ”

Suddenly, Patton’s cries turned from broken to overjoyed, almost instantaneously.

And then, Patton laughed.

It was interspersed with coughs, yes, but he was laughing. Logan didn’t know how long it was since he last heard that laugh; but it’s apparently still the same, because now he’s laughing too.

Logan pulled back slightly, his eyes burning from keeping them open. Behind Patton was a blinding flash of white. And that’s how Logan knew they were going to be okay.

“I love you,” Logan said with a teary smile. He felt the heat crawl against his skin. He let out a shaky laugh as he hugged Patton tighter. He said it as if it was suddenly the only thing he knew how to say. “Patton Morgan, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It was so bright– so bright– but Logan swore he could see Patton smile too.

“I-I love you too, Lo.”

( Ba-bump...ba-bump…bump… … …)

It was the last thing Logan heard before the sun finally fell:

“I’ll see you soon.”

---

“Oh. My. Stars. ”

Patton blushed furiously as Roman leaned over the coffee table with what looked like hearts in his eyes.

“Romannnn,” Patton whined.

“Pattonnnnn!” Roman sing-songed in response. Patton broke into a giddy grin, burying his face into his cup of tea. He could feel himself going warm.

“This man sounds like an absolute dreamboat! ” Roman batted his eyelashes. “Now, pretty pretty pleeeease tell me more about your fabulous first date?”

“I’m telling you,” Patton sipped his tea, a bit embarrassed, “it was just a regular first date.”

“Oh come on, Ra- pun -zel,” Roman groaned dramatically. “Let down your hair! ”

“...what?"

“Just loosen up, would you? You looked like you just died talking about what he looks like — I feel like you can talk about what you guys actually did without kicking the bucket?”

“Fine, fine!” Patton giggled. “You’re going to be really disappointed though.”

Roman shot him a wide smile. “I don’t think I could be.”

Patton rolled his eyes playfully.

“Well after we exchanged numbers at the library, we went out for coffee– which didn't really feel like a date, but it was something, you know? And it did lead to us texting non-stop for like, a week.” Patton smiled fondly. “It was all pretty casual, nothing more than just talking about what we did and what TV show we were watching at the time. He–” Patton laughed a bit to himself. “He was actually watching this nature documentary about penguins and he said something like–”

“ ‘ Oh, Pat, I am so horny for you, but I’m going to talk about this penguin shit so you can give Roman a snooze-fest of a story’ ,” Roman finished for him. “Is that what he said, Pat? Huh?”

“Roman!” Patton gasped, going beet red. He swatted Roman away with a blush.

“What?” Roman laughed, leaning back in his seat. He put his arms up defensively. “Is it because I’m right?”

“You’re starting to sound like your brother,” Patton teased. Roman gasped dramatically, making a small, offended squeak. He tossed his signature red scarf over his shoulder.

“Fiiiine.” Patton laughed. “If you must know, we just went to McDonald’s and ate dinner in his car.”

“McDonald’s?! ” Roman shrieked. “You had your first date at McDonald’s ?!”

“It was a busy night for the restaurant we were planning to go to!” Patton said defensively. “He wanted to take me to some high-end place, but we were like thirty minutes in and the waiting lounge only got busier–”

“There was a lounge?! You passed on a place with a lounge?!”

“–so when he noticed I was getting antsy, he offered to take me somewhere else.” Patton smiled, as if he was taken somewhere else for a split second. “I sorta panicked when he asked me where, so I said McDonald’s. He was really sweet about it though and– well, it kinda worked out because we talked a lot!”

Patton looked down, almost embarrassed.

“It...it was all really lovely.” A pause. “ He’s really lovely.”

“Oh, Pat! ” Roman cried out, the grin on his face only growing. He jumped out of his seat and went over to Patton, practically dragging him out of his chair. Patton squealed as Roman spun him around.

“I’m so happy for you and your summer romance, Count Dorkula.” Roman sighed dreamily, spinning Patton into an embrace. He pulled back slightly so that he was facing Patton, mere inches from his face.

He gripped his shoulders firmly and with a soft smile, asked, “Are you happy?”

Patton paused, looking down at his shoes. There was still a bit of red on them from when he spilled ketchup on it the night before.

He smiled.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, I am.”

---

Logan walked back into the apartment carrying logs of firewood, a brown bag slung around his shoulder. He laid the logs onto the floor, catching the attention of Patton.

“ Logan. ” He stood up as soon as he saw him. Logan already knew how this was going to unfold as soon as he saw Patton’s face.

“I know, Patton, before you say anything–”

Patton stormed up to Logan, who calmly set his bag down.

“How could you just– just leave?” Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Patton, I had to,” Logan said, trying to stand firmly alongside the words he was saying.

“Don’t give me that shit ,” Patton growled, but it sounded weak in the midst of his tears. Logan felt himself grow tense.

“You have been miserable, Patton,” he said coldly. “What the hell was I supposed to do? I had to do something, I had to fix it somehow–”

“Fix it?!” Patton laughed, almost manically. “Holy– is that really what this is about? You just wanted to fix me?! ”

“Patton–”

“You didn’t know so you– you thought you could just leave?! Did you think that– that leaving for a week to find fucking Roman would suddenly fix the whole fucking world?! Is that really what you thought?!”

“You’ve been worried about him for days, I couldn’t just sit and watch you cry yourself to sleep every night, please try and be logical about thi–”

“You left! ” Patton’s shriek echoed around the room. “D-Don’t you understand?! Like– like, really think about it for one fucking second. You fucking left. ”

He was pacing back and forth, as if he was deciding whether or not he could even look at him. His movement caused the blanket hanging on the wall to lift slightly, showing glimpses of the outside world.

Logan stiffened at the sight.

“Patton–”

“You should be dead! ” Patton cried out, pointing at Logan almost hysterically. Logan didn’t move. “A-And for what?! For him?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“He’s your best friend –”

“You’re all I have!” Patton screamed. Logan fell quiet, staring at Patton. His hand was still outstretched, pointing at Logan. It felt like some sort of sick accusation.

“Y-You’re…” Patton let out a loud sob, sinking to his knees and breaking down into tears on the cold, ashen floor.

“Patton…” Logan whispered, kneeling in front of Patton, who was slumped over on the floor. His sobs made what seemed like an earthquake spread throughout his entire body.

“D-Don’t you understand?” Patton’s voice was muffled by the floor, but Logan heard the sound of Patton breaking down into sobs almost too clearly.

“Y-You’re all I- I have left,” he whispered through his tears, “a-and...and y-you fucking left .”

Logan suddenly felt warm tears sliding down his cheeks.

“I…”

But he didn’t end up saying anything. Logan lifted Patton gently, letting him lean against his shoulder as he cried.

They sat like that for hours. They sat on the cold floor of their home, holding each other. The day passed them, painfully slow, and they just sat there.

And no one left.

“D-Did you find him?” Patton eventually asked.

Logan looked at him, almost numbly. He then reached over for his brown bag, still lying on the floor, and pulled it closer to him.

He pulled out a few things; canned preserves, bottles of water, soap– anything he could have grabbed on his way to where Roman was.

Then, he pulled out a red scarf.

Patton stared at it, sitting in Logan’s hands. He stared at it as if he was secretly in there, woven through the fraying ends of the fabric.

Patton stared at it as if he was looking at it,

(lying neatly underneath the Christmas tree, all those years ago)

as if it were brand new.

And then, Logan held it to his heart and cried.

---

“No way,” Patton giggled as they walked into Logan’s apartment. “You did not say that.”

“I really did,” Logan hummed, closing the door behind him as Patton took off his coat. “It was...well, it was not my proudest moment.”

“I can imagine!” Patton hung the coat on the rack. “Sounds like you really schooled him!”

“Oh shush,” Logan chuckled. Patton laughed and walked into the living room.

It was quite modest in size, but surprisingly warm in feeling. The walls were painted a muted red and the floors were wooden, with a fluffy rug or two underneath a brown couch. An autumn-orange blanket covered most of the couch, and behind it were light bulbs, hung by black wires. Each one was staggered in terms of how far away they were from the ceiling, the warm light floating mere inches from the wall. There was a small, brown coffee table in front of the couch with a vase of red roses in the centre.

“Wow,” Patton murmured, slowing down to a stop in front of it all. He didn’t even turn to face Logan when he walked up to his side. “Your place, it’s…it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Logan said. More sheepishly, he added, “I apologize if it is a bit messy, I didn’t have much time to clean up.”

“And you have such a beautiful view for someone on the first floor…” Patton could spot a glance of the nearby park through Logan’s brown-framed windows.

“I, um, did the most I could with what I had.” Logan cleared his throat. “Additionally, my mother is an interior designer, hence...well, this .”

Patton finally faced Logan with a smile. “I love it.”

Patton slowly made his way around the room. There were a few pieces of art hanging on the walls, abstract shapes making up what seemed to be a picture of a warm, sunny day.

Fitting, he thought with a small smile.

“Could I by any chance offer you a drink?” Logan asked, making his way past Patton and to the kitchen. Patton, his eyes not following, replied distractedly, “A water would be great, thanks!”

He could distantly hear the water pour into a cup from the kitchen, but he was too far gone to really notice. He continued to make his way around the room, trying to capture as much as he could.

On the TV stand, there were a few picture frames. Patton recognized Logan in almost all of them– even the ones that seemed like they were taken long before the two had met. He also recognized a few other faces; Virgil in particular, who he remembered meeting a couple of weeks back.

He suddenly noticed an empty frame sitting next to the other photos. Patton frowned, picking it up. It seemed relatively new compared to the other ones, which were unfortunately collecting a bit of dust. Patton noticed a few remnants of a white sticker. It looked like there was an attempt to peel it all off, but it didn’t go too well.

Patton smiled to himself, putting it back down just as Logan walked back into the room.

“One glass of water for you,” he said in an almost regal tone, giving Patton a small smile as he handed him the cup.

“Why thank you!” Patton giggled, clumsily taking a bow. A bit of water spilled out of the cup as he did.

Patton looked a bit terrified, but Logan just laughed, shaking his head and giving Patton a small kiss.

Surprised, Patton kissed back. He became so entranced by it, causing him to nearly drop the glass entirely.

When Logan pulled back, Patton found himself inches away from his face.

Logan’s eyes were very brown, Patton noticed.

He smiled. They were warm.

Patton kissed Logan again, more slowly this time, putting his free hand on Logan’s cheek. Logan grinned in the smile, pulling Patton’s waist closer to him.

And when they were done with that kiss, they kissed again; the pace growing more frantic with each one. They kissed for so long that Patton nearly forgot that the room– or anyone else in the whole world– even existed.

He hastily set the cup of water down on the TV stand beside all the photos and used his other hand to loosen Logan’s tie.

Logan must have gotten the hint because he kissed Patton again, guiding their steps towards his bedroom.

“Wait!” Patton whispered, pulling back when they got outside his bedroom door. Logan frowned.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Patton said. “Yes, everything’s okay, I just…”

Patton then smiled, staring softly at Logan.

“I just want to remember this,” he whispered. Logan chuckled, pressing his forehead against Patton’s.

“I love you,” Patton added quietly.

A pause.

Logan broke into a wide grin, laughing as he cupped Patton’s cheeks and pulled him into the most passionate kiss Patton has ever had. The warm touch spread across Patton’s face as he touched him.

(And that’s when he knew, even if he didn't really know it yet.)

Patton giggled in between the kisses, wrapping his arms around Logan as they went into his bedroom, Logan softly kicking the door closed behind them.

---

“Did you hear any word from him?” Logan asked quietly, sipping some warm water from a small, clay cup. Patton shook his head as he walked out of the kitchen, going over to the couch where Logan was sitting. Logan sighed.

“It’s been a week now.” Patton said nothing as Logan continued, only setting down two bowls of soup on the coffee table and taking a seat beside him. “It’s unlike him to just...leave without much notice.”

“Yeah,” Patton murmured, looking down at the table. Logan looked over at Patton and took his hand.

“Hey,” he whispered. Patton was squeezing his hand. Logan squeezed back, and Patton finally looked up with him.

He seemed tired, his stare almost grey. Logan wondered if it was possible for the sun to steal the colour from someone’s eyes.

“He’s going to be okay,” he decided to say. “We’re going to find him.”

“Yeah,” Patton said again. He wasn’t even moving anymore, just staring down at his bowl of soup. “Yeah, I’m sure we will.”

Logan sighed as he wordlessly picked up his own bowl and quietly drank from it.

It was quiet like that for a while, the two of them drinking their bowls of soup without saying much. Logan kept looking at Patton, who was barely even touching his meal.

“Are you ill?” Logan finally asked. Patton looked up at him, almost darkly. A little quicker, he added, “I noticed you aren’t done with your soup.”

Patton looked down at his bowl then sighed, standing up and shrugging.

“You can have it,” is all he said before turning his back on Logan, who sighed. He closed his eyes, pulling his glasses onto his head to rub the bridge of his nose.

He expected Patton to retreat to their bedroom, but Patton just walked over to the huge hole in their wall. He watched him stare out the wall.

“...Patton?” he asked softly.

“Should we bother listening to the radio tonight?” Patton whispered. His words sounded cold, even as warm air breezed into their apartment once more.

Logan stood up, hesitantly walking to Patton’s side.

“May I be honest?” Logan asked. Patton looked at him and nodded.

“After you went to bed, there was a final broadcast on the radio,” Logan said. “It’s wiped out more people than we thought, and it’s moved faster than anyone could have ever suspected.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Patton murmured. “There hasn’t been a reported crash since it happened and that was a month ago.”

Logan sighed. “Radiation sickness.”

Patton tensed up at the words.

“...Oh.”

“It’s been worsening around the world.” Logan tried not to look at Patton as he spoke. “They said that the overall global temperature is the highest it’s ever been in history. It’s beating its own record each day.”

“So what they’re saying is that it’s over then,” Patton suddenly said. His voice was barely a whisper, yet it felt so sharp. Logan tensed at Patton’s sudden stare.

He decided to keeping looking ahead at the hole in their wall.

“We should find something to cover that,” Patton finally said after a bit of silence passed.

Logan frowned, idly looking around him. “Yes, we should.”

He thought about it for a while and walked over to the couch when the idea dawned on him. He pulled off the blanket, giving it a few good shakes. Dust flew from its surface, but eventually it gave way to the orange colour he was familiar with.

Logan turned around, the blanket in hand, and held it up as if it were some kind of offer.

Patton smiled, almost sadly.

---

Patton pressed his face in his hands, taking a deep breath.

“Patton, I just don’t understand why this is a big deal,” Logan said. Patton finally looked up at him from his place on the couch.

“A big deal? ” Patton echoed, incredulously. Logan sighed.

“Patton, that’s not what I–”

“Logan, it’s my parents !”

“I’m just not ready yet!” Logan protested. “How is that difficult for you to comprehend?”

Patton stood up from the couch in a frustrated huff, circling the coffee table to stand in front of him.

“Because we’ve been dating for a year now!” Patton cried out. He ran his hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling. “God, Lo, they ask about you all the time–”

“Just tell them that I’m not ready then!”

“That’s not the point, Logan–”

“Then what is it?”

“I–” Patton closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t know, okay?”

A beat of silence.

“Where are we, Lo?” Patton asked, almost afraid of the answer. Logan frowned.

“We’re in my apartment.”

“ Logan .”

Logan averted his stare from him. Patton almost missed it.

“Sometimes, with you, it feels like I’m in a race car” Logan finally admitted. “And– and there’s such an exhilarating rush ; every single lap I feel that wind and the hot fire pushing my car along a-and…”

He paused.

“And?”

“...And then I remember I’m in a race car ,” Logan finished. “I’m speeding around in circles and it's so fast and I’m– I’m in some kind of race .”

“Logan, I’m not trying to rush you into anything.” Patton took a small step towards him, taking his hands into his own. “But we can’t go anywhere if...if you’re not going to take your foot off the brake.”

“That’s the thing, Patton,” Logan sighed; not even in frustration anymore, but in exhaustion. “I...I feel like we’ve been in this race for so long –”

“T-Then we can leave!” Patton broke in. “We can quit, we can drive somewhere else– to some...some island? Look, this metaphor has lost me–”

“I don’t even know if I want to be in this damn race anymore!”

The air around Patton suddenly froze.

Patton looked at him, wide-eyed and quiet. He suddenly felt too warm.

And he suddenly didn’t miss Logan’s quiet stare.

“Pat…” Logan’s words sounded like they were underwater. Patton kept looking down at his hands in Logan’s. They were shaking.

“How long have you felt like this?” he asked quietly. Logan shook his head.

“I– I…”

“ Logan? ” He hated how small he sounded. Logan closed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I...I don’t even know if this is how I feel, okay?”

“...What do you feel then?” Patton asked. “Right now? Just– tell me how you feel now. ”

A pause.

“I feel scared, Patton.” He looked up at Patton with suddenly-teary eyes. “I...I am scared... that this isn’t something I can do. ”

Patton said nothing.

“ God, Patton,” Logan continued shakily, “we haven’t even told each other that we loved–”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Patton took a step back, watching Logan’s hands fall to his side.

“P-Patton, I–”

“I know,” Patton said. His voice sounded cold and foreign, even to himself. “I know. You’re right .”

“Patton–”

“You’re right,” Patton said again, more firmly. He took another step back, as if staring at something he couldn’t even recognize. “ You haven’t.”

---

Logan sat on a bench in the park, loosening his tie slightly.

For October, he thought, it is so warm…

Or maybe it was warm for another reason. He had been anxiously bouncing his leg for a half hour now, waiting for Patton to meet him.

Logan couldn’t help but worry about him, whether or not he was okay.

Maybe it was because he…

Logan sighed; he couldn’t even say it in his head .

When Logan finally spotted Patton, however, his heart sank.

He wasn’t okay. And Logan already knew why.

“Hey,” he said as Patton approached him, standing up from his seat. Patton stood in front of him, his hands in his pockets.

"Hi,” he replied quietly.

They stood like that for what seemed like an agonizing couple of hours. Logan cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

“You look...great,” he finally said. Patton didn’t meet his gaze.

“...Thanks.”

“May we sit?” Logan motioned over to the bench. Patton looked at it– really looked at it– before seemingly giving in and sitting down. Logan, relieved, sat beside him.

“How are you, Pat?” Logan asked.

Patton let out a quiet laugh. “Not great, Lo, if I’m being honest.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, and he put in such a great effort to sound like he really meant it.

(Did he even mean it?)

Patton shook his head, looking down.

“You were the one who wanted to meet,” Patton said. “What do you need?”

I need to tell you something. I need to tell you everything .

(I need you to say it.)

I need it to be the only words I could ever say, just for a minute .

“My sweater,” he said lamely. “You...you still have it.”

Patton looked at him with an indescribable look on his face.

“...My mother said she wants to give it to Declyn.” Why was he still talking? “She said it must be too small for me now. She was asking where it...might...be.”

Patton smiled, but something told Logan it wasn’t a happy one.

“So that’s it then?” Patton’s voice sounded hollow. Where was the warmth? Logan tried searching for it; in his smile, in his eyes, anywhere.

“Patton, I…” What the hell was he going to say, anyway? That he–

“Actually?” Patton stood up abruptly. “Don’t answer that.”

Logan snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at him, standing up as well.

“Patton, there has to be something else ,” Logan said. He took Patton’s hands into his own, and Patton stiffly let him. He could feel himself sweat. “There has to be some other way for me to tell you– to show you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Logan,” Patton said. “If you can’t even say it once ?” He shook his head, letting out a sad laugh. “I don’t know what to tell you. I just don’t think that’s fear.”

“But–”

“You’re not afraid of us,” Patton cut in. “You’re...you’re afraid of something else and I’m sorry , Logan– believe me, I have tried to come to terms with that this past week but...but I’m sorry . I...I’m just sorry .” He paused. “This just isn’t what I want.”

And when Patton let go of his hands, a piece of the sun crashed behind them.

---

next chapter >

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logicality #gabbie writes things #sanders sides fanfiction #thomas sanders fanfic #thomas sanders fic #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan/patton #apocalypse au #human au

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fic-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Sometimes it’s the outfit

A/N: Whenever I wear this outfit I am always feeling myself which is a kick ass feeling so I figured hey, why not write about it. Also while we’re all in self quarantine because of coronavirus I was like hey let’s write something that doesn’t remind us of that.

Warning: Very minimal plot, mostly smut, NSFW, 18+ only

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Spring had finally sprung which meant one thing for you, wardrobe change. Thank God. You liked winter for about the first month and then you had your fill and anxiously waited for the weather to turn warm again. Spring had absolutely everything going for it, flowers blooming, the world waking up, and your favorite clothes on your body once again.

You rifled through your closet, seeing what you could wear to mark this momentous occasion. You weren’t sure if it was quite warm enough for dresses, and you definitely didn’t want to wear jeans and a t-shirt, no this required one of your favorite outfits. Your one piece black and white striped jumpsuit, with the cute little tie on the front and a very generous neckline. Throwing on some white sneakers you were ready to go. Go where, you weren’t sure yet, you just wanted to soak in the sunshine.

You were leaving your room, sunglasses in hand when you heard a voice calling to you from the opposite side of the hallway.

“Hey Bucky.” You replied, meeting the super soldier halfway. You greeted him with a light hug before you continued on your way, but he grabbed your wrist to stop your movements.

“Where’s the fire doll?” He questioned, thick Brooklyn accent lacing through his words. He had just gotten done his workout, his black shirt clung generously to his body and his workout shorts left very little to the imagination. You let your eyes linger for a fraction of a second before you stared back into his blue orbs, that were eyeing you curiously.

“It’s a beautiful day out Barnes, can’t let it go to waste.” You quipped back, before turning and leaving him to his own devices, throwing a wave over your shoulder.

You spent the whole day outside, soaking in the sunshine and getting some much needed Vitamin D. You admired the white almond blossoms, already in bloom around the compound, went to the lake to listen to the birds and ducks before you made your way back to the compound, sun-sated and happy.

You walked inside and found Bucky reading on the couch in the common area on the floor of both your and his apartments.

“How was the marvelous outdoors?” He questioned, not bothering to put his book down as he tossed the comment over his shoulder.

“Revitalizing. Thank you very much.” You replied quickly, walking around to the opposite side of the couch to stand in front of him. He dropped his book and eyed you suspiciously. You appreciated how his eyes raked over your form, and noticed when they stopped to trace the collar of your shirt down past your cleavage. “See somethin’ you like Barnes?” You asked, placing your hands on your hips and cocking your head slightly.

“What has gotten into you recently? You’re so...different.” Bucky proclaimed, spreading his thighs with a hint of invitation as he placed both of his arms on the back of the couch, spreading out entirely. You noticed the way his thighs stretched out the black jeans he wore and you had an idea.

Before you could change your mind you walked towards him and crawled into his lap, straddling him. You looped your arms around the back of his neck and leaned down so your face was level with his.

“What do you mean?” You whispered into the shared space between the two of you. The environment was becoming electric with the tension radiating from the both of you. He took his hands off the back of the couch and wound them around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as you gently ground your clothed core over his growing erection, he let out a harsh gasp and his pupils dilated with lust.

He began to trail kisses up the column of your throat until he reached your jaw, then he made his way so that his mouth was mere millimeters from your ear, “I think you know exactly what I mean.” He husked, gently grazing your lobe with his teeth.

In response, you pressed yourself down against his length once more, more urgent this time. He took that as a cue to wrap his metal arm around the back of your neck and bring your lips to his for a blistering kiss. Your hands found themselves planted firmly in his black locks as you deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth. His teeth pulled your lower lip into his mouth and you panted a response, begging him to continue the sweet torture.

His lips were on yours again and his tongue scorched your mouth, pleading with you to open up for him. Your lips accepted him and your tongues danced together, exploring what the other had to offer. Every noise your mouth made he happily swallowed with his.

“God you make the fuckin’ prettiest noises doll.” He rasped, trailing kisses along your neck and down to your collarbone. You arched into him, offering more and more for him to take. Your hips ground against his and he placed a hand on your hip, guiding your movements, thrusting his own hips up into you.

You slowly began to peel the straps of your jumpsuit from your body, giving Bucky access to your bra clad chest. He hastily reached behind you and unclasped your bra before he sat back and admired his handiwork. You were perched on his lap, breathing labored and lips kiss bruised, hair mused and a flush across your cheeks. The perfect picture of seduction. He slowly trailed his hands up your naked chest until his hands, both hot and cold, palmed the globes of your breast. You arched for him as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, working them to stiff peaks.

“Fuck Bucky, please don’t stop.” You moaned, hips moving of their own accord now, desperate for some sort of release, the pressure build up was burning in the most delicious ways.

“Wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He quipped back, his pupils black and lust blown, so only a thin layer of blue iris remained. He gave you a salacious wink before he dived in on your left breast, your right one still subject to his teasing torture. You gasped as his teeth pulled on your hard nipple and then his tongue soothed the pain away. You grabbed his head, pushing him closer to you, begging him to keep going.

He continued pulling a string of lewd curses and moans out of your mouth before you pulled his lips up to connect with yours once more.

“Take me to bed Buck.” You breathed out between kisses.

“Your wish is my command sweetheart.” He responded darkly, effortlessly lifting you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he led you down the hallway to his room. No sooner were you in his room than he had your body expertly pinned against the now shut door.

Gently, he propped you up back on your feet before hooking his hands into your bodysuit and pulling it off the rest of the way, along with your underwear. You stepped out of the outfit and tossed your sneakers aside before he continued his assault. He got down on his knees and began to worship your right leg. Trailing kisses along your calf muscle before swiftly pulling your leg up and hiking it over his shoulder, giving him a beautiful view of your dripping core.

“God doll, you’re so wet. This all for me?” He teased as he planted heated kisses along the inside of your thigh, nipping and sucking his way up to where you needed him most. You were a moaning and panting mess above him, holding onto his head to steady yourself. He brought his flesh hand up and trailed a teasing finger along your sopping wet folds. His intense blue eyes met yours, “I need an answer hon.”

“Yes Bucky, it’s all for you, fuck.” You replied hastily, head cloudy with lust and desire. Saying anything to get him to where you needed him to be. He smiled at your response before he licked a long stripe up your slit and you felt your knees buckle in response, struggling to keep you upright. Bucky’s tongue expertly parted your folds as he delved in to taste you like you were his salvation. The obscene slurping noises that followed were enough for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and for you to sing Bucky’s praises.

“You taste so fuckin’ good baby. Better than anything I’ve ever had.” He said lustfully, as his nose hit your bundle of nerves. He chuckled at your reaction as he sank first one and then two fingers into your dripping cunt. “Fuck you’re tight. Gotta stretch you out good, make sure you can take me.”

“Fuck Bucky please, I need you.” You pleaded as you felt his fingers move inside of you, curling until they found your sweet spot and then attacking it relentlessly. Your body shook with desire as every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire.

“What do you need doll? Be a good girl and use your words.”

“Your mouth, please Bucky.” You begged, carding your fingers into his hair, holding on for dear life against his assault.

“Since you asked nicely.” He replied before he latched his mouth to your clit, sucking harshly. You let out a scream that you’re not entirely sure belonged to your own body before you combusted, coming onto Bucky’s fingers and into his awaiting mouth. Your body went slack against the hardwood of the door and you were faintly aware of Bucky’s strong arms carrying you over to his bed before laying you down and crawling on top of you.

He lazily kissed your mouth as he nudged your thighs apart with his knee, preparing you for him. You wound you legs around his hips as the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance. With a sigh he slipped into you easily, not stopping until every glorious inch of him was inside of you. He waited for you to adjust to his length wonderfully stretching and filling you.

“How’s that baby? How do you like my cock?” Bucky breathed into your ear, his head rested nest to yours, clearly waiting to move.

“Fuck you feel so good, please fuck me.” You pleaded. You would’ve been annoyed with how desperate you sounded but you needed him to fuck you so badly. You could feel the heat pool within you once more and the coil in your stomach tighten, you needed your release more than anything and you knew only Bucky could provide it.

Bucky pulled out of you almost all the way, agonizingly slow, before he slammed into you again with a sigh. He moved fast and you met each snap of his hips with eager thrusts of your own. The profanities spewing from your mouth were unheard of as Bucky sucked a harsh mark into your shoulder, muffling his own cries of pleasure.

“Fuck, Bucky, I’m close.” You panted out, meeting his uneven thrusts, meaning he was close too.

“Me too sweetheart, come with me.” He commanded and the coil within you snapped for the second time that day. You came around him harshly as your nails dug into his back, leaving angry red marks in their trail. You felt Bucky come inside of you, chasing his own release. His harsh pants turned slower and steadier as he eased himself out of you and lay down next to you on the bed.

“That was…” You started, at a loss for words. Bucky grabbed your face in his hands and planted a hungry kiss on your lips, breaking your train of thought.

“Fucking mindblowing.” He finished your thought for you. “Wear that outfit more often.” He commented into your hair and you smiled, if wearing that outfit would mean Bucky would fuck you like that more often then you weren’t sure you would ever wear anything else.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #mcu fanfic #bucky fanart #bucky oneshot

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

Text

Inside Alastor’s Head

“Use the princess to convince Lucifer to hand over Hell to me. Get to know Charlie and her family, see how this so called Happy Hotel works. I can’t wait to see her face when she realizes it’s actually the Hazbin Hotel. Has a better ring to it, anyway. May as well speed up the process by bringing in Niffty and making grumpy Husk join in. It’ll be everything Charlie’s dreamed of…and when it all blows up in her face, I’ll be enjoying my popcorn.”

“So Charlie likes music and dancing, too? How marvelous! These hotel residents can enjoy my singing and illusion magic. (They won’t know what’s coming next.)”

“Who, me? Evil? Why would you think that? It’s totally unlike me to broadcast my massacre of demon citizens who stand in my way. (Except it is.) Man, seeing them running and sacred…reminds me of game I used to hunt when I was alive.”

"Charlie will surely be heart-broken when her plans to redeem sinners falls apart. Maybe if I threaten to capture or kill her, Lucifer will hand over the crown to me. Lucifer makes a deal with me, in exchange for Charlie's safety, I get his powers and rule all of Hell! Hmm, might have to plan things out some more..."

“The demon princess wants to redeem sinners. Ha! Probably the silliest claim I’ve ever heard. A nice refresher from the usual grim news on the Picture Show. Her singing was a nice bonus. Oh, the good old days of being on the air…basking in the attention and glory. I told jokes, advertised shows, announced fun events. I even got to report on murders for the news, probably my favorite part. Soooo close to being able to advertise Jambalaya. Several other announcers got the part, so I wore a disguise, snuck in one day and sliced their heads off. Still loved the expressions on their faces. Here in Hell, I have no opponents in the radio business. ”

“Those overlords look scary and cocky, but they’ve heard the tales of me…they’re scared deep down, for good reason. Sir Pentious didn’t stand a chance when I summoned black tentacles to wrap around him and his ship. Along with my powers, I have shadowy spirits to do my bidding. That’s why you can sometimes see them when I attack. You don’t need brute force and insults to win someone over. All it takes sometimes is some illusions, a little help from the Loa…and just smiling all the way through.”

“My microphone cane surly comes in handy. It’s what allows me to project events in front of me and broadcast them on the radio. It has a life of its own, but I’m in control, of course. All part of the magic deal with the Loa.”

“I enjoyed watching the picture show and going to the circus when I was a boy. Watching the animals and the performers was lots of fun. I may have burned down the circus tent after being rejected from a comedian role. But it was only an accident: my fingers slipped when I was getting cigarettes for father. Whenever I got sad, my mother told me “You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” Her motto still rings true to this day.”

“I enjoyed hunting deer in my human life, yet I also feel some connection to the animal. They’re majestic, agile, and are free to travel pretty much anywhere. Though they’re often attacked by hunting dogs…or in my case, police dogs. The beasts mauled me just before I died. It was back in 1933. Thus, for my so called evil deeds, I arrived down here in Hell. And I gotta say, it’s quite a fun place to be!”

“Sex and romance don’t interest me. Don’t get me wrong; Charlie is a charming demon belle, and Vaggie is adorable and feisty…but they’re just a means to an end. Maybe I’m too self-absorbed to want to deal with being judged by others. More fun, less responsibilities when you’re on your own. Though, I’ll admit, I did meet a lovely lady in my human life, but, certain circumstances led to a tragic end. Don’t get me started on Angel’s disturbing sexual remarks. That gross stuff makes my skin crawl. (Heh, that stuff bothers me but seeing the blood of my victims does not. Go figure.)”

“When I smile and touch people, I’m in control. It’s the quickest and obvious way to show my dominance. Frowning shows doubt, weakness, and I can’t afford to appear weak. When other’s try to touch me, it’s always unexpected. I can never tell what it will feel like on me. My space, my rules. Touch me too much, and I hate it. Like when he…my father…did things to me…in front of mom. Abuse, molest, he did it to both of us when the drinks were in his system. You can see why I was shocked and overjoyed when I finally stabbed the life out of him. I also really didn’t want to murder my mother and the love of my life…but they were going to tell the authorities what I did…so there was no choice. I fled into the woods in the hours before dawn, the police hot on my tail. Saw the faces of deer before I got shot in the head. The dogs came upon me and…nothing.”

“I got my love of cooking from my mum. One of her favorite things to make was jambalaya. A tasty cuisine of rice, chicken, sausage, shrimp, a whole bundle of things. She added so much spice to it (and accidentally burned herself making it), it almost killed her. I thought it was fabulous, the heat invigorating to my taste buds. The secret spices she used by accident? Ghost peppers and Wasabi. It reminds me of home in New Orleans…a world of music, daily life, and alas, racism. People who didn’t know me at the radio station, white people and sometimes black people, badmouthing me for my mixed Creole heritage. Once I perfected my shooting with my rifle, well…they got what they deserved in the dead of night.”

“Ah, I loved the stock market crash of 1929! There were so many orphans, so many kids in distress! Perhaps it made me feel better to know that there were those who had it worse than me. I’ve had my share of bad luck, it was about time for others to experience some of their own.”

“I sometimes kill people at random, when I’m especially mad. It’s sort of like a game: the more you kill, the more dominant you’ll appear. I’m not fond of killing innocent children or chasing people, I mostly prefer to catch people off guard. To slaughter them behind the curtain, if you will. I would never rape or eat another person…such uncouth, disgusting behavior. Chasing my victims takes too long. Best to go at my own pace and decide their fate for them. But no worries; for women and innocent strangers, I make their deaths as painless as I can. Gotta keep being a gentlemen in some aspects.”

“Voodoo had been practiced by my ancestors, way back in Africa. I read about the Loas and many of them were just like me: well-dressed, powerful, lovers of food, wine, the good life. From what was passed down to me, I was able to communicate with them. They granted me their powers to use in my afterlife…but only if I was willing to suffer an “early, gruesome death,” along with the loss of a potential lady partner… you know the rest. I know some of the symbols and they provide me with visualization of the spells I want to conjure.”

“Singing, swing music, the radio, dancing, and dad jokes…those hobbies brought light to my otherwise mundane, grim human life. Even if other people don’t find those jokes funny, I always get a kick out of them. They’re so simple…a basic for any comedian. Though I do wish I knew how to tap dance. Maybe my magic can help me out...”

#alastor #hazbin hotel #radio demon

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husky-boi · 4 years

Text

It’s Always Been You ~ Chapter 2

Summary: Husk grew up with the casinos of Vegas, and made his living there. This is the story of how he found the joy in life, and a reminder that sometimes true love transcends worlds

Ship: Huskniss (Husk x Arackniss)

Ao3 Link - Chapter 1

-----------

Sometimes, a distance can grow between the two.

---

It was a bit of a fight between the two, with Charles wanting to drink at the casino and Carlos wanting to go anywhere else. In the end, the short man's wish was fulfilled, and the two sat on stools a few buildings down, at a place that was strictly a bar. As promised, Charles has used the cash he'd won that night to pay for their drinks; bourbon whiskey for himself, and red wine for Carlos. Plus buying a round for the whole bar, which kept the bartender plenty occupied.

All the while, Carlos had been silent, staring at his drink as if he hadn't watched the bartender pour it even though no one's touched it since. This guy sure was quiet, huh? Charles elbowed the dark haired man, which resulted in a slight flinch and glare.

"I didn' invite you out for drinks just for you to take the money and /not/ have the chance to get to know ya. So why the long face?"

Carlos' resting bitch face faded into a look of... Curiosity? And directed at Charles as they properly made eye contact for the first time. He could already feel his heart jumping into his throat. Uh oh.

"You didn't cheat." The voice snapped Charles out of his thoughts, shaking his head slightly as he smirked just like he used to.

"'Course I didn't cheat, you thought I would?"

There wasn't an answer at first, and for a second Charles thought he wouldn't get one at all. But Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning back to sit straight, staring down to the counter.

"You didn't fuckin' cheat... But you win almost every game. That's not fucking possible."

"Ah, see you've heard of my reputation?"

Carlos blinked a few times before looking back to Charles, this time with more confusion than anything as he held out a hand.

"Lemme introduce myself properly... Carlos D'Amico. Heir to the business." Charles just about did a spit take with his drink, coughing for a few seconds before quickly reaching down to shake the hand, swearing he could feel static crossing between them. "I was... Sent. To check on you, and to kick you out at the first hint of weighted dice or cards in your sleeves. But you're just fucking good at the game... Gotta say, I'm impressed."

The son of the Rose D'Oro Casino's owner. Was fucking impressed with his skill in gambling. Had he not any dignity, Charles swore he would have passed out right then and there. Luckily, he managed to laugh it off instead, breaking the handshake to take a swig of his bottle. "Thanks, but if you're tryna butter me up for something, ain't gonna work. 'Fraid you're gonna have to try harder than that."

Carlos tilted his head a bit at the confidence and, damn him, he smiled. Just a small bit, but definitely noticeable when Charles was looking him up and down like a stack of chips. "Fair 'nough. But honestly, wasn' even supposed t'tell ya that much. In fact, probably'd get disowned for that if it got back around." He had to lean back Carlos leaned forward, clearly trying to bring their faces closer together. Charles was almost done with his bottle, and he hadn't had a drop.

"...did y'put somethin' in my drink?"

Carlos laughed at that, and Charles swore that there was a choir of angel's singing behind it. Was that the whiskey talking? Shit, he sure didn't feel buzzed enough for thoughts like this. He was practically still sober.

"Nah, probably'd get banned from the casino altogether for doin' somethin' like that... So you gonna tell how you're winnin' so much without stacking odds in your favor?"

Charles blinked at him a few times. Was this man really asking him for advice? It sure sounded like that, even though he knew in the back of his mind there was no way. Even still, he couldn't help but keep up the same asshole persona and shove a foot in his mouth.

"How 'bout we play a game of kiss and tell, huh?"

That was a fucking stupid thing to say, Charles knew it as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He was about to apologize and play it off like nothing but a joke, when he felt a hand grab his bowtie and lips crashing into his.

The kiss was messy, and chaotic, and Charles was pretty sure their teeth knocked into each others a few times, obvious neither of them were very experienced, if Carlos was at all. But when they finally pulled away, both of them were out of breath, and Charles was wondering how the other man looked so calm when he was pretty sure his face was melting.

"Kiss. Now tell."

Despite how serious that sounded, Carlos smiled, and Charles knew it was okay to laugh in response. "Would you believe dumb fucking luck? 'Cause that's all I've got to share."

It wasn't more than a second or two later that Charles felt himself being dragged by his arm off the stool and through the crowds, ending in the back of the club. Carlos handed off a hundred to some guards that opened a previously locked employees-only door, and Charles swore he died and went to heaven at the look that resulted once he was pulled inside.

"If you need more motivation, y'coulda just said so~."

---

Charles enjoyed every second of the next couple hours, and he loathed the fact that they had to leave eventually. If anyone noticed that the two had accidentally switched ties, or that the neatly combed hair was now far from such, no one commented. Then again, the guards were probably bribed not to notice as Carlos handed them another large bill on the way out.

Both of the two were silent walking through the crowded bar, finally making it out the front door. With Charles looking one way, towards his 'home', and Carlos looking towards the casino, it was obviously they had to go their seperate ways.

"...see you around, then."

Charles' head snapped towards Carlos, who had just started to walk off. Just walk off. After all of that?? He jumped in front of the other's path despite his best judgement.

"Hey- That. Was that. Just a one time thing, or...?"

Carlos always kept an unreadable expression in his eyes, but with a slightly shaking hand, the dark haired man reached into his back pocket, pulling out a die and tossing it in his hand. Not just any die, but...

Before Charles could process anything, Carlos took his hand and placed the hand-crafted rose die in it. The prized possession of the casino, their entire branding and iconic feature, in the palm of Charles' hand.

"Consider that a little collateral. As a promise, that I will see you again."

Charles was still too stunned to stop Carlos from running away towards the casino, leaving him with the small cube in his hand that left a similar pink shade to his face.

---

Charles was more than eager to return the next day, when he found posters with his face plastered over the door.

"Permanently Banned For: Cheating, Stealing, and Assault. If you spot him, alert a security guard and we will take care of it"

He read it once. Then twice. Charles read those words probably a dozen times before stumbling backwards, spotting one of the guards out of the corner of his eye and bolting away as fast as he could.

On the top floor of the tall casino, Carlos was watching out the window, feeling a hand with sharp nails dig into his shoulder.

"S'for the best, son. Can't have you gettin' attached in a business like ours."

Taglist: @purpletrash @silver-crowned-king @pretty-in-velvett @incorrect-hazbin-quotes @im-not-an-alcaholicokmolly @grape-scapegoat

Want to be added or removed? Shoot me an ask or dm!

#huskniss #husk #arackniss #hazbin hotel #husker #original post #fic #tw assault mention #its always been you

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Like They Do in Vegas, 3/5 (Vanique) - Mac

AN: Thanks a ton to Meggie for betaing this chapter and being a legend, icon, and star.

Fair warning: this chapter does contain smut!

BGM Challenge Notes: Vanessa and Monique’s friends show up in Chapter 4! And here is the playlist I made for this fic.

Summary: Vanessa goes back to Monique’s room and learns more about the mysterious businesswoman.

Monique wasn’t staying at The Venetian, which made the short ride over to The Bellagio that much more unbearable.

Monique didn’t hide her attraction to Vanessa. There was no shame in the way she leaned into her touch or the way her eyes lingered on Vanessa’s skin. It was almost embarrassing in a way. Such open lust. But it also made Vanessa’s skin prickle and sizz when her thigh pressed against Monique’s in the back of the cab. The older woman kept a firm hand on her leg, the contact warming Vanessa from the inside out.

She felt different, Monique did.

In the past, when Vanessa had gone home with targets it had been less nerve-wracking. Maybe because she had no emotional stake in the encounter. Though Vanessa was still loath to admit that the older woman had made that much of an impact over the course of the night. But as it was, Vanessa could feel her heart thrumming in her veins, electricity tingling down to the base of her spine in anticipation of what was to come.

No matter how much Vanessa wanted to pretend this woman had no effect on her, she was practically gagging for it.

The journey up to the Chairman Suite was uneventful, Vanessa’s mind already so fogged up with the way Monique’s legs looked in her skintight dress, she didn’t have time to admire the opulence of the hotel.

She reasoned with herself that she would get another chance at a later date. Much more pressing matters were at hand.

Monique, ever the put-together image of grace, took her time. As they entered the suite, she set her coat over the back of the plush chair in the lounge space before making her way over to the bar. She rummaged around for a moment before coming up with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Vanessa felt glued to the spot; for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure what was expected of her.

Should she decline? Get a move on to the inevitable conclusion of the night? Did Monique want her to?

“You’re thinking too loud.” Monique offered her an easy smile and a full glass.

Vanessa took it graciously and took a sip to keep her hands busy. “Sorry,” she mumbled around the edge of the glass.

“Don’t apologize, baby.”

And oh, yeah, okay, Vanessa was definitely invested. Just that one term of endearment had heat spreading from her chest down to her toes. It could have also been the wine.

“And don’t worry so much. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Vanessa nodded. The reassurance was nice if not unnecessary. If she didn’t want to sleep with Monique she wouldn’t have bought her a drink, wouldn’t have made it this far, wouldn’t be holding her breath now as Monique’s eyes trailed up her body, caressing her skin without ever touching it.

Suddenly all the air in the room seemed to deplete and the fact that the only physical contact they had had was a brush of a hand here or there was unacceptable.

Monique must have felt similarly because she plucked the glass out of Vanessa’s hands and placed it lightly on the counter behind her, never once breaking eye contact. Vanessa’s hands were frozen in place, clutching an object that wasn’t there.

Monique took Vanessa’s hands gently and guided them to wrap around the back of her neck.

“You’re still thinking too loud.” Monique smiled as she pressed their foreheads together. “Let me help,” she whispered.

Vanessa nodded dumbly and their lips met.

The kiss wasn’t as frantic as Vanessa had imagined. There was heat. It was undeniably present in the way Vanessa melted against Monique. It crept into her blood, into her very being, pricking and burning at the back of her neck, singeing the hair there.

She needed to cool down, to get clothes off, off, off—now.

As if reading her mind, Monique chuckled, pulling back slightly. “Slow down, baby.” She smiled, letting her fingers brush the stray hairs out of Vanessa’s face. “We’ve got time.”

Vanessa didn’t feel like they had time. Her skin was burning, and she wanted to tell Monique that hey, her skin was on fire, and there wasn’t enough time because Vanessa was suddenly convinced there would never be enough time with Monique. And god wasn’t that a stupidly romantic thing to think.

There was no time to berate herself for falling for a stranger in the span of a few hours because Monique’s hands were on her hips, pulling her closer, whispering against the shell of her ear.

“You’ll tell me if you want to stop, yeah?”

Vanessa nodded as Monique trailed her lips up the column of Vanessa’s neck, stopping to suck on her pulse point.

“Words, baby.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa’s voice was breathy and foreign in her own ears, but she couldn’t care about that now, as Monique was pulling away.

The older woman gave her a reassuring smile before taking her hand lightly and leading her to the bedroom.

It was massive, the room was. The floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city of lights immediately drew Vanessa in. It was like she was compelled by some force other than herself to step closer to the panes of glass, closer to the edge.

Vanessa swore she had never been so high up in her life. The city looked impossibly more beautiful at night with a beautiful woman’s arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. Monique reassured her that they had time, to look all she liked.

Vanessa could have told her that she would be looking all her life. Could have told her any number of things at that moment. About her past, plans for the future, dreams she would never see realized, her biggest fears, that she was shit scared of what this all meant.

It hit her in the gut how intensely she felt. Like the whole world was constantly waiting on her shoulders for the perfect time to suffocate her. But Monique didn’t let it. Each time Vanessa almost collapsed under the weight of her own feelings, Monique would pull her out with a kiss to her cheek, her neck, her ear.

They stayed that way for ages.

Until Vanessa spun around in Monique’s arms because she decided it had been too long since she had seen the older woman’s eyes.

Monique smiled at her. Unassuming. Perfectly, ordinarily exquisite.

Vanessa could have told Monique many things, but she settled for kissing her instead.

This kiss was slower, more relaxed, but not any more perfect. Vanessa always found descriptions of kissing to be trite or at the very least boring. Sparks didn’t fly, fireworks didn’t erupt. It was two wet mouths pressed against each other, messy and unrefined and breathless. That was the appeal. It was dirty and uncoordinated and raw. The raw need to be closer to another person.

Vanessa also felt a raw need between her legs. The throbbing in her cunt only rivaled by the beating in her chest.

Monique could tell, like a sixth sense she could sense Vanessa’s waning patience. She pulled the younger girl away from the window by her hips, gently steering them toward the bed and rotating their positions so the back of Vanessa’s knees hit the soft bedspread a moment later.

Monique lay her down, whispering gentle commands to scoot up and spread out against the headboard. Vanessa did as she was told, sinking into the soft linen as she moved dreamily up the bed. Monique stayed where she was, observing her movements not unlike a predator would observe prey. It made that same heat from before settle in Vanessa’s gut.

She rubbed her thighs together absentmindedly, gasping at the wetness she already felt, her hair flung out around her like a halo, and she knew she looked anything but angelic. Monique smiled softly, far too softly for how her eyes lingered on Vanessa’s skin.

Vanessa felt herself sitting up, pulling at the straps of Monique’s sinfully tight dress.

“Off,” she whispered.

Monique nodded her head, lifting her arms and quickly throwing the dress off and away. She was left in nothing but a pair of panties that matched the wine red of her dress and Vanessa was suddenly aware of how dry her mouth was. Monique’s body was gorgeous. She was all beautiful curves and dark, smooth skin.

The way she crawled on top of Vanessa was mesmerizing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Vanessa whispered like a prayer.

“Thank you.” Monique husked, just as reverently. “I think it’s your turn now, baby.”

Vanessa nodded absentmindedly, brain empty save for the sight before her; she would have agreed to anything Monique asked her if it meant they could finally touch. Skin to skin.

Vanessa shimmied out of her dress, graceless and clumsy but she didn’t care, because as soon as the fabric had been tossed away, Monique’s lips were back on hers, frantic and all-consuming.

Monique’s hands were everywhere, trailing up and down Vanessa’s sides languidly. She smirked against Vanessa’s lips as the younger girl instinctively parted her legs more at the movement.

“Eager?”

“Shut up and touch me,” Vanessa tried to say forcefully, but it ended up coming out breathless and needy.

Monique chuckled. “Shhh, my beautiful girl.” The older woman ran a hand down Vanessa’s face, cupping it lightly. “I’ll take care of you.” Monique smiled. “I’ll give you what you need.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa whined.

Monique pressed her knee up against Vanessa’s soaked panties and chuckled at the wetness seeping out, practically drenching her knee. She trailed kisses down Vanessa’s neck to her chest, sucking each of her nipples into her mouth, all the while trailing her hands up any part of Vanessa she could reach. Her thighs, her calves, her stomach, her arms. Her knee keeping solid pressure against Vanessa’s leaking pussy.

Vanessa felt like she was going crazy, hips rolling down uselessly on Monique’s leg, frantically searching for friction. Whimpers were leaving her lips without her permission, and she was sweaty and breathless and Monique was hardly even touching her.

Vanessa wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take, so, in an act of defiance for the slow pace they had formed, she gripped Monique’s wrist and shoved it down her panties, moaning out as Monique found her clit within seconds, rolling the hardened nub between her fingers.

“Fuck.”

“How do you want it, baby?” Monique mused, easing off the pressure, allowing Vanessa to miss it. “Fast and hard? Slow and deep? My mouth? My fingers?”

Vanessa couldn’t breathe clearly, let alone process all those words. “Yes, yes, fuck all of it,” she whimpered.

Monique tsked at her answer. “You gotta be more specific, baby. Wanna give you what you need.”

“I need you inside me,” Vanessa snapped.

“Okay then,” Monique chuckled at her irritated tone.

She slowly, always slowly, worked Vanessa’s panties down her legs and threw them somewhere into the darkened bedroom behind her. It was then that Vanessa noticed the only real light in the room was coming from the city beneath them, filtering through the large windows and forming shapes over their intertwined bodies.

Vanessa would have winced if her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the brilliance years ago.

Monique continued to circle the edge of Vanessa’s pussy with the tips of her fingers until Vanessa gave a frustrated groan, the last strands of her sanity fragmenting the longer Monique teased. Eventually, the older woman gave in to Vanessa’s mindless pleas and pushed two fingers inside her.

She started pistoning them in and out slowly, but precisely.

Vanessa’s back arched and before long, her legs were trembling and she was biting her lip harshly as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her.

Monique worked her though the aftershocks, until the livewire in her body stopped sparking. Vanessa pulled Monique closer, kissed her lips, took her time this go around. Tasted the hint of syrup and gin on her tongue. Reveled in the way the flavors clashed.

She ate Monique out quick and dirty, had perfected her technique by now. Not that she had that many female targets in the past, usually just housewives that didn’t know what an orgasm was, save for their showerheads, and the occasional vibrating toothbrush.

That wasn’t what was important, what was important was that Monique came with Vanessa’s name on her lips. Moaned high and clear and perfectly crafted around each syllable so there was no mistaking it.

Vanessa worried she would never be able to unhear it.

They lay in silence for a while.

Monique asked quietly if it was okay for them to cuddle. Vanessa didn’t wait a second more before burying her head into the space between Monique’s chin and collarbone. The older woman’s strong, sure hands wrapped securely around Vanessa’s shoulders and waist.

She felt her heart jump in her chest.

If she were able to think clearly, she would have scolded herself for such a silly reaction.

Monique brushed her fingers through loose strands of Vanessa’s hair and placed them back around her face, framing it nicely. The gesture felt incredibly fond. Incredibly inappropriate for a one night stand in the City of Sin.

The silence was broken a moment later by Monique.

“What do you wanna do?” she asked softly, words laced with care.

“Hmm?” Vanessa asked sleepily.

“After…” she paused. “After you… get what you came to the city for. What do you wanna do?”

Which loosely translated to, ‘what do you want to do after you get enough money and realize this lifestyle isn’t sustainable.’

“You’ll laugh,” Vanessa said. They always laughed.

“I won’t.”

Vanessa sighed. She believed her. “I wanna go back to school.”

Monique lifted her head up so she could look down to meet Vanessa’s eyes, her lips turned up at the corners, but it wasn’t patronizing. It was a genuine show of emotion. Raw and non-judgemental and real.

Vanessa had to keep talking, or she was going to combust from the feelings building up inside her because of that look. “I seen the way those men, the ones in the casinos, I seen the way they look at the world. I hear it all the time. Kill or be killed. Top dogs and shit.” Vanessa shook her head. “It’s crap. All of it. The world ain’t that depressin’. I know it ain’t.”

Monique didn’t say anything but looked at her with something different in her eye. Something akin to pride.

Vanessa had to look away, to break eye contact, because the longer she looked, the more of herself she felt she lost.

“I just think there’s gotta be more to life than drinkin’ away your problems and pretendin’ that means you happy.” Vanessa shrugged. “I dunno, maybe I’m stupid for thinkin’ anything would change. For thinkin’ that I could make a change.”

“Well, I think if anyone on this planet could make a change, it’s gonna be you.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes in spite of herself.

“Now you’re just messin’ with me.” Vanessa shimmied out of Monique’s grasp. She knew the older woman was being truthful. If Vanessa were honest, she knew Monique hadn’t lied to her yet.

There was something so… empowering in her vulnerability. It was utterly and undeniably human. There was no mask, no secret she was burying.

Monique just was.

That’s why Vanessa couldn’t bear to hear any more about how wonderful Monique thought she was. Because she knew it was real.

“I’m not messing with you. I—”

“You got a shower?” Vanessa cut her off before she could say something else that made Vanessa’s chest constrict pleasantly.

Monique showed no sign of offense. She just nodded. “Yeah, and a tub, and another shower across the hall.”

Vanessa chuckled and shook her head. Rich people.

“You take the one in here, I’ll go ‘cross the hall.”

Monique seemed reluctant to do so, but after more pointed silence from Vanessa, she got up and made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind herself.

Vanessa exhaled.

She put her head in her hands and breathed in and out deeply for as long as she could stand it. The sudden pounding in her head made her dizzy and the crushing weight of the world suddenly felt like it was back. Not consuming her just yet. But waiting. Just around the corner.

Vanessa looked about the room, eyes scanning for anything to hold her attention. But the pounding in her head made it difficult to focus. She threw her hand out experimentally toward the nightstand, searching for a light switch of some kind. She winced a moment later as pale blue artificial light emanated from the lamp. Vanessa opened up the bedside drawer, searching for any kind of pain reliever to soothe her still pounding head.

What she found instead was a ring.

A shiny silver ring with diamonds embedded into the metal that turned and shifted in the pale light.

The crushing weight fell back on Vanessa’s chest.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #monique heart #vanique #casino girl au #lesbian au #fluff #angst #smut #developing relationship #fic challenge #black girl magic fic #like they do in vegas #mac #diversity fic #s10

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theonewiththefanfics · 5 years

Text

Obliviously In Love (one-shot)

Synopsys: after celebrating the release of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ the Reader finds herself in bed with someone. That someone turns out to be Ben Hardy. The only problem is- they’re best friends.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x f!Reader

Genre: toiny bit of angst, fluff and SMUT

Warnings: SMUT (unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering etc)

Word count: 3186

It was the warm sunlight caressing Y/N’s body that woke the girl up. Her Y/E/C eyes flitted open before she closed them again, for it was definitely too bright. But they didn’t stay like that for too long. The little glimpse she had had, confirmed her worst fear- she’d hooked up with someone and would now have to do the dreaded walk of shame. She hadn’t been that drunk, only two or three tequila shots. It had loosened her body and tongue, but her head had stayed clear enough to make decisions, so why it had concluded that having sex with a complete rando was alright when she was supposed to be supporting her best friend’s new movie, was beyond the girl. But then the body she was sleeping next to started to move and just by the weight of it, by the way, his skin felt against hers and the muscles pressed to Y/N’s back she knew who was sleeping beside the girl. In an instant, she had the sheet wrapped around her body and Y/N jumped out, startling the stark-naked Ben from the position. A lazy smile painted its way onto his mouth as he glanced at the woman. “Morning, love.” His attitude was so nonchalant about what had happened, Y/N’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. Her gaze roamed the taut back muscles, where clear angry red scratches went down his spine, bright crescent marks were around his hips and there were even lines across his ass and down the length of his thighs. “Sleep well?” Ben’s eyes were closed, and his voice was still laced with sleep, but the words were what pulled Y/N back. She could only clear her throat and give a hum, trying to not let the memories of the previous night take over her body.

Ben stretched, and she had to fight back a moan, seeing his figure move like that, so she turned to the side, grabbing the dress she had worn to the ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ premiere, and started to look for her underwear, still only covered by the bedding of Ben’s hotel room. They both moved around in silence, though there was a difference in how either saw it. Ben was content and happy and relaxed, while Y/N just chewed on her bottom lip and was trying not to cry. It was when he had pulled on his boxers and gone into the washroom to brush his teeth when the girl spoke up. “This isn’t going to ruin our friendship is it?” Y/N’s voice trembled as she clutched the sheet tighter around herself. The chiselled man walked out of the bathroom, concern and confusion evident on his face, while a toothbrush was sticking out of his mouth. “Why would it ruin anything? I thought it was a natural progression when two people are involved in a relationship… as long as it’s consensual… which it was, right?” But the last bit gone unnoticed as something else caught Y/N’s attention. “Ben, what relationship?” she was more puzzled than he himself. “Oh… oh my god, please don’t tell me you think we’re gonna start a friends-with-benefits thing. We’re too good of mates to get involved like that and I’m- I already don’t do one night stands let alone things l-“ “One-night stands?” Ben’s voice was laced with pain. He quickly rushed back inside the bathroom and spit out the toothpaste before returning to the conversation that was breaking his heart. “This isn’t a one-night stand. How could you ever think like that…? I love you. I’d never do that to you.” Y/N’s breath hitched at the confession. “You what?” “Y/N,” he came to stand before the girl, the heat of his body radiating off like the sun. “I love you. And what you’re saying… you’re breaking my heart, darling. Did none of the dates mean anything to you? All the times we kissed? Slept together?” Ben’s green eyes were rimmed with tears. “Do these four months mean nothing to you?” “Four months? Relationship?” the sentences were squeaky questions and Y/N herself was about to break down. Her whole body trembled, as Ben grasped onto her biceps, pulling her against his chest. By this point she was in full-blown hysterics, hyperventilating and yet somehow clutching the sheet to her chest. Ben lifted the sobbing Y/N up and sat down, pulling her body in his lap, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “Shh, it’s gonna be ok,” he was choking on tears himself. “We can just forget all about it. I promi-“ “No, we can’t.” “Y- yes,” Ben managed to get out, cradling her head against his heart. “We’ll forget all of this happened and go back to the way we used to be. We’ll go back to being best friends again and that’s it.” But Y/N shook her head. “No, I don’t want to forget about it. I don’t want to go back to how things were.” And when she sat up straight, palms cupping Ben’s cheeks, there was a wide smile on her face. The man’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and he was even more perplexed when Y/N leaned up and pressed their lips together. It didn’t take Ben even a second to respond, fingers weaving through that mess of Y/H/C hair, but he did have to pull back, clearly confused as to what was going on. “I- I don’t understand.” Y/N chuckled, wiping away the tears that threatened to slide down her cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you for almost a year now. And- and now you’re saying that I have been dating the man who owns my heart for a quarter of that year… without even knowing…” A glint of hope appeared in Ben’s eyes as he let out a breathless laugh. “You love me?” The girl only nodded, not once breaking the eye contact and her smile widening. “I love you more than anything. And I’m sorry for my reaction, but imagine being in my place… I’ve been dreaming about this so much my heart physically hurt at night and now, only to find out it has been my reality for four months…” The tears that streamed down Ben’s cheeks were no longer of pain but of happiness. “You truly are oblivious, aren’t you?” And Y/N laughed, a pure heartfelt laugh that reverberated through the man’s bones and resonated in his blood, a palm cradling her cheek as both recalled how Y/N had mentioned she never could quite figure out when someone was flirting and trying to get with her. “I thought all of those things, you know, the carnival, ice-skating, restaurants… it’s what best friends do…” Y/N said that, but she felt light like a feather, the beam on Ben’s face never disappearing. “And what about all of the kisses we shared?” She gently slapped his chest, nuzzling her nose in the crook of his neck. “They were just pecks… and the cuddling… I just thought you were being affectionate, that’s all. Besides, you never asked for more, never asked to do… what we did last night.” A gentle finger lifted Y/N’s head up so their gaze could meet. “Because I simply thought you weren’t ready. If I would have had to wait for two more years I would. And if you told me you never wanted it, I would be okay with that.” “What do you mean two more years?” Ben chuckled, quickly pressing their lips together and resting his forehead against hers. “You’re not the only one who has been in love for quite the while. So, when I asked you out and you said yes, I was over the moon. Though maybe I should have made it more explicit that I was asking you out on a date.” Y/N’s whole body flushed with embarrassment. “Asking me if I wanted to go for milkshakes and chips isn’t that different from when we order Dominos late at night.” “No, but holding hands the whole time, sharing a shake…” Ben’s eyes bore into Y/N’s and she could see the little black pupils slowly start to dilate and swallow the jade of the irises. “Kissing… that to me seems more than what friends do.” He trailed a finger over her neck and Y/N shuddered at what the soft touch did to her. It lingered at one of the dark marks, blooming on her neck like a rose, and Ben was done for it then and there. Hot lips pressed against the oversensitive spot and Y/N moaned, tilting her head back so he could have more access to the skin. She had somehow managed to switch from being cradled to straddling Ben, the see-through sheet having piled in a bunch on both of their hips, leaving Y/N’s chest bare and pressed tightly against Ben’s. Strong palms gripped at her thighs and slowly, he pulled them forward, creating a rolling motion. She hadn’t noticed it before, but when her bare clit dragged along the fabric of Ben’s boxers he was clearly aroused. They groaned in unison as pleasure overtook the blood in their veins. “You know before you jumped out of the bed, I was gonna ask if you’d like to have a repeat of last night,” Ben’s voice was a husk and the definition of sex. And that’s when a clear picture took shape in Y/N’s mind of how they had gotten to that point. The tequila, the music, the hot atmosphere of the after party, Ben’s hungry gaze as his eyes had roamed over the girl’s body as it moved to the beat and how her lips had widened in a teasing smile, when their eyes met, Y/N singing along to the Queen lyrics.

“Are you gonna take me home tonight? Ah, down beside that red firelight Are you gonna let it all hang out? Fat bottomed girls You make the rockin' world go 'round

And Ben had placed his hands on her hips, pressing his mouth against the tender skin of her neck, allowing Y/N to feel every muscle under that sheer black shirt of his, that, when the girl had first seen him come out in the hotel suite, ready to go down to the carpet, she had wanted to rip it off then and there. In the present, the two were engaged in a feverous kiss, the sheet having been pulled completely away and thrown somewhere to the floor, leaving Y/N naked and exposed to Ben. “My oblivious gorgeous girl,” he muttered trailing a hand down her spine as he kept rolling her hips against his. Y/N smiled, heart fluttering. “Not so oblivious anymore.” “Only took you four months.” “Then let’s make up for the lost time.” Ben groaned at Y/N’s words as he felt the damp spot that her slick had created on his underwear. Insatiable fingers slipped between the two grinding bodies. He just needed to feel what he had done to her. Her breath got stuck in her throat and her Y/E/C eyes rolled to the back of her head and two of his digits found her clit, and with slow and deliberate motions touched the bundle of nerves. “Does that feel good, love?” Y/N’s forehead was pressed against his chest and all she could do was whimper pathetically for all rational thinking had been thrown out of the window since the second he kissed her fully. “So good,” Y/N managed to get out through her shaky voice. “Please don’t stop.” “I have no intentions to,” and with that said his middle finger slid inside her core. A deep moan made its way into the air and her walls immediately tightened around Ben’s finger. But it wasn’t enough. “I need more, Ben. Please.” The man looked down to the girl, face still pressed against his shoulder and brought his other palm to her cheek. Lust filled eyes opened to look at him and he groaned at the bliss contorting her features. He moulded their lips and murmured in her mouth. “Anything for you, love.” That was her only warning as two other fingers joined and gently stretched her, the digits moving in unison, trying to find that spot that would make her tumble over. It didn’t take Ben long to have Y/N mewling his name, body gliding along his for fore friction. “Let go, darling,” he coaxed the desperate girl. She was whining, her whole body buzzing, waiting for the knot that had formed in her lower belly to snap. “Come on, drench my fingers.” Those words were Y/N’s undoing. She hadn’t expected that Ben’s dirty talk would affect her so much, but her back arched into his chest and in a frantic attempt to not scream, for she was quite sure Rami was in the neighbouring bedroom, probably still sleeping off the night before, Y/N kissed Ben, letting his tongue invade her mouth and swallow the sound. She had to detach after a second, as the orgasm rippled through, making her stomach and thighs spasm. “You alright?” Ben asked kissing down Y/N’s collarbones while helping her through the aftershocks of the release. “Up for another round?” She could feel the cheeky smirk against her skin, but his tone was soft and laced with genuine care. “Give me a second to come back down to Earth,” Y/N laughed, her own palms gliding up and down Ben’s back. She could feel him shiver when they smoothed over a particularly sensitive scratch from last night. A pang of guilt went through her chest. “Sorry for these,” she muttered pressing a kiss to his neck. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.” “You didn’t,” came Ben’s immediate response and he gave Y/N a reassuring peck. “Not one bit.” Their make-out session continued on, and somehow, through all the grinding and rolling, his boxers had slid down. A moan of satisfaction made its way southward Y/N’s spine as she felt his member press against the inside of her thigh. It felt natural to be in the position they were in, so, at a snail’s pace she positioned her soaking core above Ben’s length and started coating it. Y/N couldn’t help herself and glanced at the man. Forever would the image of his head, thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape and ragged breaths escaping into the air, be ingrained in her mind. “Love, you’re killing me here,” the plea for her to do something was a throaty rasp. His patience and resolve was crumbling just like his sanity, for Y/N, as he opened his emerald orbs to see her, looked like an angel above him. The morning sun had risen high above the ground and the white curtains diluted the light, casting the pair in a soft golden glow. The teasing was too much for the girl herself, so slowly she grasped him at the base and inch by inch Y/N eased on Ben’s aching member. Fire seemed to have taken over everything because that could be the only possible explanation as to why she felt so hot and why her frame was slick with sweat. It was so much better than the previous night. For this time Y/N’s mind knew it wasn’t just because lust had clouded both of their senses, nor were they influenced by the alcohol running through their systems. This time their thoughts were crystal clear. The noise that rippled through Ben’s throat could have been enough to make Y/N cum then and there. It was deep, guttural and filled with so much desire she had to bite on her lip to keep it together. Her arms were tightly woven around Ben’s back and she could feel his whole frame tremble before he tested the waters with an experimental roll of the hips. He was sheeted so deep inside of Y/N that immediately he hit her G-spot. She left crescent marks all over him, for the pace accelerated form loving and sensual to passion filled desire. One hand reached to cup her jaw and Ben brought their lips together, but that didn’t falter his movements, he was still just as capable of helping Y/N ride him with one arm as he was with both. Ben couldn’t think of anything but how snug and tight she felt around him, how perfectly soft were her walls and how they hugged his every vein, ridge and bump. His focus was on how Y/N’s skin shone, the sheer layer of sweat making him believe she was made of diamonds and the beads rolling down her neck and chest were tear-shaped gems. Y/N, however, was in another dimension. Nothing but pleasure and Ben and the pleasure that Ben was giving her existed. He was so warm and strong and so loving, it made her feel like she was floating on Cloud 9. Suddenly Ben shifted a little bit and the angle changed. Not much but enough that Y/N’s eyes sprung open and she had to bite down on his shoulder to not let a literal scream erupt in the air. The sounds were pornographic as the pair moaned and cursed with every snap of their hips and whenever either tightened their grip. The sheets were damp around them and not only from the perspiration but from Y/N’s arousal having slid down her thighs, drenching Ben’s legs and then seeping onto the bed. It felt like his name was laced with honey, whenever she breathlessly called out, pleading for him to bring her release. Ben himself thought his lungs weren’t working properly anymore, for his head felt light and hazy, his chest heaved more and more as Y/N kissed him with everything she had in herself and that is when the air was truly stolen from the man. In a split second, when her clit had dragged over a dry spot on Ben’s pubic bone, Y/N was cumming. She chocked on her own breath, not expecting for the wave of bliss to come so unexpectedly. Her veins obliterated, heart shattered, and body evaporated leaving nothing but paradise in her wake. With a moan of her name, Ben let go. Hot thick streams of cum painted her walls, and that sensation of being filled up threw Y/N over the edge once more. The release was much shorter lived, but it was the most powerful she’d ever had, to the point tears sprung in her eyes, for she didn’t even know what reality was anymore. Y/N’s legs had a death grip around Ben’s waist as did her arms around his middle, her mind still spinning. They both needed that contact, the physical reassurance their bodies were still intact and hadn’t actually disintegrated into atoms, for the orgasms had definitely pulled every fibre apart and instead they were made together by ecstasy. “I hope after this you don’t think I see you simply as a friend of mine,” Ben said, his sweaty forehead pressed tightly to Y/N’s. Two bright Y/E/C eyes looked back at him. “No. I think I have a pretty clear idea of what we are now…” “Mhm, and what is that?” Y/N leaned in giving Ben a tender kiss before responding. “Obviously in love.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): @16wiishes @wanderingsami @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @pizzarollpatrol @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy

A/N: Hello sinners, it’s me, ya girl.

P.S. what did you think? ;)

P.S.S. if you wanna be tagged, drop a message :)

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