#i knew he was probably doomed the first time i heard i run goodbye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badgirlcovenrep · 3 years

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atlas

Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot

(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.

It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.

They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.

Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.

The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.

But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.

Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.

****

Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.

The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.

They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.

It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.

It was a relief from the usual doom.

And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.

****

In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.

She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.

But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.

Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.

"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.

"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."

"I don't have a choice."

"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."

A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.

"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.

Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-

"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-

"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.

It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.

Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.

Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.

"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."

"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.

Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.

Or trying to kill her dead brother.

"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."

The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.

"But this is the only Gabe I have."

Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.

And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.

"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.

"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.

"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."

"That would have been so funny."

"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."

Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.

"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.

"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."

"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."

"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."

And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.

She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.

****

She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.

Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.

Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.

Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.

Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.

Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.

Water. Water will make her feel better, right?

Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.

The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.

You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-

"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"

In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."

Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.

How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.

"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.

But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.

She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.

She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.

"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.

"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.

"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."

"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.

Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.

It scared her. More than anything.

"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.

Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.

"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."

And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.

But it all suddenly makes so much sense-

Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.

Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.

Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.

Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.

"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.

Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.

"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"

"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."

"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.

But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.

Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.

"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."

At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.

If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.

It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.

She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.

Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.

And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.

#send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #chengrich #alex chen #steph gingrich #life is strange true colors #long post #chenrich fanfic #chenrich fic #alex chen × steph gingrich

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nanamismoonchild · 3 years

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chapter 3- entrance

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut , greek god based au

warnings: this chapter is chill :D

wc; ~1.6k

Summary: You’re a beauty. He is handsome. You’re Life. He is Death. You love him. But does he love you? There’s only one way to found out. And it’s by being the Queen.

A/N: ngl im starting to love oc/reader persephone. what do yall think?

prev/next

The journey to the Underworld was quicker than you had imagined it would be. Possibly because of Jungkook rowing quickly across the Styx in a hurry to meet your demand. The ferryman was afraid of going any slower than he usually did in case you decided to feed him the other drachma that hung from your ear. It was not as pleasant as you expected it to be. You could hear the agonizing moans of the Wraiths who lurked around the river Styx. They were doomed to be there for at least one hundred years as a result of not being able to pay the dreaded fee.

The boat rocked back and forth, some of the water sloshing onto your feet. It was cramped and you could feel your backside begin to hurt from falling and from sitting on the bare floor of the dingy boat.

Thankfully, the ride was over soon. The blue man helped you off of the boat while Jungkook was forced to glance at everything but you. Probably because you were now wet and naked, something you hoped to remedy soon.

“The entrance to the Underworld is just beyond the hill. I’m afraid your friend will meet Hecate as soon as he crosses the threshold. I am very ashamed of how I treated you Persephone. I beg your forgiveness,” Jungkook’s hoarse voice pleaded. He knelt down in front of you and kissed your feet.

How sweet.

“I will think about it. I still have to meet your ruler. Where would he be located?”

“In the throne room. He’s usually always there. I-I will escort you there.”

“There are too many dead people waiting to be taken across. I will guide myself. A throne room should not be hard to find. Consider yourself dismissed.”

You took the blue man’s hand and marched towards the entrance to the Underworld. It was strikingly brighter than the rest of the domain. The symbol of Namjoon, a large cornucopia that spilled its bountiful contents while a scepter was embedded into it, was the golden highlight of the door. It was most definitely the only welcoming sight you had seen thus far.

You could hear growling on the other side.

Your mother had told you many stories of the land of the dead. They had been as dull as a well-used sword. The sheer boredom from listening to your mother tell the tales had put you to sleep as a child. Hearing the growls of the multiheaded dog named Cerberus, who guarded the entrance into the Underworld, made you wish you paid more attention to them. You had no idea how to pass the guard. Killing it was surely not an option. You had no plans to upset the God of the Underworld with any of your reckless behavior.

Unless it was in self-defense.

Cerberus’s growling became louder as you neared the golden door. The energy from the door was making the Blue Man shake with nervousness. You were shaking as well, but it was mostly from the cold air that wrapped around your naked body. Hopefully, someone in the castle would offer you something to wear. That or you’d simply just steal the clothes off of the nearest servant.

“How do you even open this door? It’s huge!” You exclaimed as the both of you stared at the door.

The Blue Man shrugged and gestured a pushing motion. He hadn’t spoken since the two of you dropped down into the Underworld. Perhaps he was afraid of you after the stunt with the ferryman. Good.

“You want me to push the door? By myself?” The Blue Man shook his head quickly. “That’s what I thought. We’ll push together on the count of three and once it opens, even a little, I want you to peek over and see if the guard is near. I do not have the time for running for my life in the Underworld.”

The Blue Man nodded again and placed his hands on the door, putting himself into a lunging position, prepared to push on the door with all of his ghostly might. You mirrored his stance.

“On three, one, two, three, push!”

Both of you pushed and immediately fell faces first into the threshold of the entrance. The door might have seemed heavy, but it was the entrance to the underworld. It was as light as a door to a home.

Groaning, you sat up on your knees and took a peek at your surroundings. Cerberus was nowhere to be seen but his growling could still be heard in the distance.

The door had spilled you and the blue man onto a pathway that forked into two paths. The ferryman had mentioned Hecate, and if you remembered correctly, the goddess ruled over crossroads among other things. The fork was obviously a crossroad but where was the goddess?

“Dear Persephone. There are many crossroads here in the Underworld. This is the one your little friend is supposed to see,” the goddess’s voice echoed as she appeared behind you.

You startled and swiftly spun around to face her. Hecate had a knowledgeable smile on her face.

“He knows what he must do. I have set up a nice set of decisions for him. He can choose to live and be reborn in Elysium. He has done many good things in his life. Or the other option is to live as a servant to Namjoon. Perfect right?”

“I do believe that is as fair as it comes. You are very generous.”

You turned towards the man who was turning a lot less blue. You could just make out his facial features. He was handsome for someone who lived poorly. His hair was nicely combed into a fashion that men wore these days-a side part that showcased his broad forehead. His jaw was set in thought as he pondered his decision. This was his fate.

He took a hesitant step towards the path as if he were weighing the benefits and outcomes of each path. You could only imagine what he could be thinking about.

He could be reborn, but what if his new life was even harder than the last. He wouldn’t remember his old family, his children, his wife. He would have to create new memories, good or bad, if the new life let him.

On the other hand, who knew what the ruler of the Underworld would have him do. He could live out his eternity behind in the castle walls, bowing to every command. He had possibly about the kindness Namjoon showed his servants and the freedom they were allowed. He only requested they complete their duties.

Could he live with that? Could he live with knowing that he would be allowed to remember his old family, and possibly see them in the future when they grew old or died an early death such as he did?

The man took several more steps before he was bounding towards the path that led to the right. And then he was gone.

“What a wonderful choice he made,” Hecate sighed dreamily at your side. She was holding a torch that had manifested in her hand as the blue man’s light disappeared.

“What choice did he make?”

“I cannot tell you, Persephone. But I do think you’ll find out soon. The throne room is just beyond that same path. I’m sure Namjoon is waiting for you. Goodbye.”

After answering and not answering your question, Hecate disappeared leaving only a white mist in her wake. Fortunately, she did leave the torch that floated in her place. Grabbing it, you straighten your shoulders and step into the same path the man had taken only moments ago.

The man had simply vanished but the path before you seemed to stretch on for the gods know how long.

“Of course, it would be hard for me. It isn’t my crossroad to walk on,” you muttered to yourself and continued on.

You were beginning to regret not turning around (a first for you) before you heard the murmuring of voices. You started running in the direction of the voices.

Please, please, please, let there be a fire or something. My body is on the verge of hypothermia.

The murmurs were becoming louder and you could make out a faint glow.

Finally. Finally.

You burst out into a crowded room. The murmurs had been coming from the servants who were surrounding something in the middle of the room. They were all dressed in a mix of black, white, and grey clothing. There was a fire near where you had come from, so you snuck over to get a little warmth and to eavesdrop.

“Oh wow. Someone new!”

“He could take over my extra duties.”

“No mine!”

“Why did someone so handsome choose to become a servant?”

“Everyone, shush! Our King is coming.”

The crowd quieted down as loud but calculated footsteps resounded through the room. Everyone was holding their breath, including you. You had never met Namjoon in person as he preferred to stay in his domain.

Nothing prepared you for the man in front of you. Your mother had always made it sound as if he were the most average man alive.

He was nothing like that. Namjoon was exceptionally darker than the proposed pale that your mother had told. He held himself with an aura of royalty.

Namjoon made his way up to his throne where he stood tall and proud in front of his audience.

“We have a newcomer today,” his deep tenor resonated through the room, “Please come up and introduce yourself to me before I sit.”

The man who you had journeyed with kneeled before Namjoon. He was dressed in the servant’s clothing and his brown hair was pulled back into a bun.

“My name is Kim Seokjin. And it was an honor to serve you today, by leading the woman who you have been desiring to you.”

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diaco1968 · 4 years

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Teeth

Hawks x reader

Warnings! Nsfw/lemon/smut, biting, hairpulling, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex no pull outs... He has exogenous zone between his wings...he can go feral... can't convince me otherwise... reader quirk works by getting saliva/venom on the victim. Long

~fight so dirty but you love so sweet~

When a hawk hunts it's first ever viper, sweeping in, catching the clueless creature and taking it back to the sky, it can go any of 3 ways. He's either succesful in incapacitating the viper and can feast on his prey later. Or the viper manages to land a venomous bite on him, in which case they fall to their doom. Now if they don't die from the fall, the viper is the one feasting on the paralyzed young hawk. Nature is a wild thing indeed with how fast the hunter can turn into the prey.

The first time he met you he was on his way somewhere else and he spotted you in a dead end , the only thing running through his mind was 'what a hassle.' His wings shuddering in agitation, the feathers ruffling noisily when he landed behind you in the dead end where you were toying with your paralyzed victim. A middle aged man whom you just mugged and was now making fun of as he could do nothing but watch you, standing there like a stone statue.

"That is not really fair is it, kid?" You turned around slowly and gracefully locking eyes with him "can't be any less fair than following and harassing an innocent little girl in a dead end. He picked the wrong person. Now he pays little price than he deserves, Birdie." You mocked back crossing your arms and taking a nonchalant pose. Though he could tell just how tense and ready to jump you were under that posture. Like a coiled snake. So that was the problem, now he knew why his nerves were on fire when he spotted you. He raised an eyebrow "you don't strike me as an innocent little girl though." You smiled sweetly as you freed the guy from your paralysis who stumbled and scrambled away and out of sight apologizing. "So what? That's what you're into, hero? Innocent little girls? Please." You emptied the content of the man's wallet right in front of Hawks and put it in your back pocket before throwing the wallet to the side. Looking up at his annoyed expression playfully keeping your smile. "Alright! That's it. You're coming with me for theft." You raised your hands in front of you submissively as if ready to get cuffed "oh no, he gonna chain me up." He wasn't amused as he stepped forward grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. That's when in a heartbeat you striked, pushing him off towards the wall and stepped back from him. You were fast, but so was he blocking your way when you tried to make a run for it "nice try. That all you got?" He said casually squeezing his shoulder where you hit but you could tell he was slightly distressed by your speed. "Oh you should not have said that." You grinned raising your hand that was holding one of his crimson feathers between your thumb and forefinger firmly but delicately. "It's okay, I can grow more of those, don't worry about it." He smirked walking back towards you. His smirk was easy to like. It was not like yours, it was calming. You ignored his comment as you brought the feather up to your lips, his steps faltered and came to a halt watching you intently. Your tongue darted out and licked up the side of it, sucking it into your mouth and pulling it out, making a show of it for the winged hero, loving the way his feathers fluttered and shuddered in response "oh, and that's what you are into, huh?" He said trying to sound sarcastic but as intrigued as he was it sounded like a genuine question. He wanted to know what the hell you were doing. You chuckled dropping the feather and stalking towards him. The feather fell limp to the floor much to his surprise. But he was in for a much bigger surprise. When you were only inches away from him, he went to grab you. And he couldn't. He couldn't move a single muscle below his neck. "What the... how did you-" he fell quiet inspecting you as you let your hands wander under his coat and ran your fingers up over his abs, over muscles that were prominent through his skin tight suit before reaching up and grabbing his shoulders to use as leverage and pull yourself up to his ear. "You're lucky I like you, cause if not, this is still not 'all I've got'." You repeated his phrase from earlier your tongue lightly brushing over the shell of his ear, enjoying the way he tensed up even more under your touch. "Okay... I really should not have said that I guess..." he scoffed and You moved your lips to his shoulder sliding his coat off only a little "too late." You sunk your teeth in his shoulder through suit and all making a loud hiss escape his lips. His smart mouth wasn't going to quit it though "ow, that's definitely going to leave a mark. what a kinky little thing you are." You chuckled fixing his coat up and stepping back, turning on your heels to leave "you can move again soon, see you around hero." And with that you were gone."Damnit..."

~call me in the morning to apologise, every little lie gives me butterflies~

It was truly a hassle explaining to the nurse who patched him up that it was just a cat that bit him, right on the shoulder, clean and no bleeding. Only a little less bothersome than admitting his embarassing defeat. He hadn't seen you since, and it's been two weeks. During which the clear set of teeth marks on his shoulder remained, unchanged, as if only just bitten into his skin moments ago. He couldn't dig up anything about you, and damn he tried, knowing his resolve and resources it was saying something. No one had heard of you. Were you even a villain? "Tsk." He traced his fingers over the mark as he craned his neck to look at it in the mirror before sticking the bandage back over it, covering it up with his shirt. Not a moment of his days went by without having you in somewhere in his mind, taunting him, haunting him... and what annoyed him was that it did not ALL relate to his embarassing paralysis in that dead end. He imagined and thought about you way more than just that. He headed out on his day off, to the bar, definitely for gathering info. Of course.

He stepped off into the cold night air and looked up at the sky, stiffening ever so slightly, invisible to the untrained eye. "Speak of the devil, ey?"

You pushed yourself off the wall where you were leaning against and approached him as he turned his head towards you, hands still in your pockets. "Aw, were you thinking about me? Do you happen to do it often?" You smirked, eyes trailing over his face to his shoulder where you've put your little art piece then back to his eyes. His eyes narrowed immediately, turning towards you and getting in your face "you did something to me didn't you?! I knew it!" He growled under his breath glaring at you realizing he had put his hand instinctively over his wounded shoulder to cover it. You put your hands up in the air as if surrendering and looked up at him sincerely, his wound started throbbing for some reason. "Yeah I did. But... I decided you probably don't deserve it. I mean... you were just doing your job. So. I've come to help you remove it." He blinked a few times looking at you unamused "riiight." You rolled your eyes "right!" He frowned and tilted his head to the side "...right? Really?" You groaned pushing him towards the door "ugh you're even more annoying than I remember. Let's go inside." He raised an eyebrow with a hand on the knob still uncertain of your intentions "do you usually invite yourself in people's house like that? Cause I'm not sure you're the type of gal I want to pick up and take home with me..." 'well ouch' He was right not to trust you but you didn't have all night "listen jerk, do you want to get rid of this or not?!" you hissed at him, and as you expected his feathers ruffled at the sound before you could even touch his shoulder. It was in his nature to find it threatening after all. It was kinda cute. He braced himself for you to be nasty and squeez his wound or something but your hand just lightly brushed over his coat, he barely even felt it "okay okay! Sheesh." He opened the door and stepped aside for you to get inside.

~talk so pretty but your heart got teeth~

"So what were you thinking about?" He was taken aback by the sudden question as he closed the door behind him turning to find you make yourself comfortable on the couch. Your question was out of the blue, yes, but it shouldn't have made his so distressed. "Nothing...?." He lied. You sighed "I can't help you like that." Silence filled the room as the two of you stared each other down before you decided to relent "look. The venom in the bite-" he gasped at the words "venom?!" You looked at him unfazed making him feel embarrassed by his own outbursts "sorry, do go on." He gestured for you to continue. "... the venome will eventually make you hallucinate. And it will remain there till you do as it tells you. So I need to know what you've been thinking about most. By the little time that has passed I don't think you are at the point of hallucination yet, yeah?" He was now more anxious about his thoughts by the things you just told him. "I don't hallucinate... do I just start hallucinating random things?... are you some kind of mobile LSD fairy or something?" He frowned at you for real this time making you sigh. "You hallucinate what you want and desire at the moment of the bite, I don't have control over it. So... yea I guess I am." You looked down and he immediately felt terrible "I didn't mean it like that... I just...sorry..." he had no idea why he was apologizing. You were the one who bit him. And he didn't recall you apologising even once so far. "It's fine, I understand." You looked back up at him and cocked an eyebrow "now that that's out the way, much like yourself I don't want to be here anymore than I need to. You can probably take care of the matter on your own from now on. Goodbye birdie." You got on your feet and walked for the door but just as you were going to pull it open his hand shot up from behind you and pushed it back closed. It was your turn to get anxious heart sinking and the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, he was looming over you from behind and you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck and see the shadow of his wings spreading intimidatingly behind you both. "Actually, in that case, YOU are so not done here."

~Late night devil put your hands on me

And never never never ever let go~

"Uh..." you slowly turned around pushing yourself back against the wall and looking up at him to see the easy smirk from before back on his face, eyes half lidded, dripping with confidence "I don't... um... what do you m-mean?" He raised a hand and brushed a finger on the side of your jaw, stroking it lightly as he leaned in closer "it's you I was thinking about the whole god damned time. The way you'll look, they way you'll sound. The way you'll taste. You said you will help me fulfill my hallucinations." He looked down over your form taking his time as he did so before his eyes landed back on yours "do you still want to help me?" He was actually asking. Despite the way his voice faltered at the thought of getting rejected there was a choice in his question. You could refuse. But why would you? He was hot. Annoying. But still hot. "So you got to be on LSD to take girls like me home?" You scoffed crossing your arms over your chest, the way the shadow of his wings covered you making you uneasy. He smiled apologetically "in my defense, last time we met you assaulted me in a dead end, gal." You huffed "(y/n)." His smile brightened as he watched you intently "Keigo. So (y/n), what do you say?" You hummed looking thoughtfully, almost shamelessly down his form, raising a hand and barely brushed your fingers against his crotch before pressing them firmly to his abs and chest. His chest tightened in anticipation as he felt his stomach drop. Maybe it was just for now and how you were touching him, maybe it was for the way his wounded shoulder throbbed, knowing this was almost exactly what happened before he got bitten last time. "I don't know Keigo, I kinda get the feeling you actually like the bite. A lot." Your hand traced his shoulder now leaning up to kiss it softly from over his clothes, him inhaling in sharply "oh to hell with it, you make me want to give you more, birdie."

~don't know if you love me or you want me dead~

He walked you back towards the bed, hands cupping your cheeks on both sides, his lips locked on yours. His hands moved down the sides of your neck, slipping your shirt off to expose your shoulders and pushing you down so you sit on the bed, loving the way you were already panting breathlessly from his kiss, flushed. He pulled his shirt off still standing over you with his signature confident smirk, throwing it to the side. You smirked back as you leaned in pecking his abs before dragging your lips over them, looking at his eyes through your lashes as you moved down and mouthed over his crotch, making him shudder, watching as those same abs rippled ever so slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair letting out a shaky breath "I'm sorry if I don't trust those teeth anywhere around that area, baby girl. Plus you already know how I taste. It's my turn." You rolled your eyes leaning back on your arms behind you as he leaned in and pulled your pants off along with your panties "fine, birdie." Your blush darkening as it creeped to the tips of your ears. He huffed kicking off his jeans and kneeling in between your legs grabbing your thighs "it's Keigo." He gripped your legs and pulled you to the edge of the bed before you could retort, only managing to let out a gasp. He smirked releasing your legs when over his shoulders running his hands up over them, kissing your inner thighs, his stubble scratching lightly over your sensitive skin making you wriggle a bit. His hands grabbed your hips tightly pressing you firmly to the bed "oh no you don't." You looked down at him to whine quietly. A choice you immediately regretted. Holding eye contact he buried his face between your legs and plunged his tongue right in. You gasped arching your back, hands shooting up to grip his hair. He hummed delighted by your rich reaction, moving his face closer, nudging his nose against the sensitive bud, as his tongue switched between lapping up your juices and thrusting in through your soft, fluttering folds. You a whimpering writhing mess under him. The soles of your feet not too gently brushing against the base of his wings on his back, where they were connected through his skin, along with your fingers tangling and tugging his hair had him groaning and moaning deeply into you. He removed his tongue only to lick up a wet hot line up to your bud latching onto it and sucking just as two of his fingers pushed inside at once giving you no time in curling up and rubbing against the spot you wanted them to. "Shit! Kei-go!" You moaned loudly, your toes curled and your thighs squeezed his head as he chuckled pushing your hips down further on the bed with an arm over your belly, nails digging in your hip where they rested. The pleasure had you seeing white and Right as you were about to get tipped over the edge of your climax he stopped. His fingers and lips, all gone. "Pay back is a bitch, huh?" He wiped off his glistening wet face with his hand as You whined desperately and squeezed your legs shut when he removed them from his shoulders grinning at you "you jerk!"

He leaned over you grabbing your loose sweatshirt and pulling it over your head reaching behind you to unclip your bra as he kissed your neck "let's free these lovely things first." You huffed still annoyed but soon it started into contented sighs and quiet moans as his kisses and nips moved down to your chest. His teeth grabbed your nipple in a sharp nip and you mewled grabbing the back of his neck, your other hand moving lower between his wings. As your nails dug right in the spot between the two giant heaps of crimson feathers, he let out a loud breathy gasp freeing your abused nipple from his surprisingly sharp teeth. Evil flashed in your eyes as you smirked down at him when he gulped and looked up at you "...no." his voice was shaky "oh yeah." You replied raking your fingers on the same spot. His giant wings shook, the feathers rustling as he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your breast harshly in one hand and pulling you closer with the other fisted in your hair, crashing his lips onto yours with a feverish hunger. You were shocked, moaning into his mouth. His reaction was thrilling and you wanted to see more, tightly grabbing onto the base of his wings this time digging your nails there. He sneered and growled loudly in your mouth, sounding feral. You whimpered at the sound the reaction you got more than you bargained for. "On your hands and knees, (y/n)." He barked urging you up by his hand, still tightly fisted in your hair pulling you up. You gasped scrambling up to turn around and do as he had told you. His fingers dug in your hips and he pulled you back onto himself, in one fluid thrust, your pussy already gushing around him from his earlier change of tone. You cried out as you gripped the sheets in front of you. His wings were distracting as they spread once, engulfing you in their shadow. It felt safe, but extremely dominating. Or rather quite deliciously. He tucked them back behind himself when he leaned down over you, one hand still on your hip and the other running up your spine gripping the back of your neck tightly. He pulled back out right to the crown of his cock, before snapping his hips back inside all the way, at the same time his teeth sinking in your skin over your shoulder blade, drawing another loud cry from your throat. He set a brutal pace as his teeth worked on littering your back with bites and nips. "F-fuck!... Kei... shi-... Keigo!" Your breath coming out in short moans and gulped in with high pitched gasps. His fingers creeped from around the back of your neck towards your throat, squeezing it tight and firm, your breath and voice hitching as the thrill ran down your spine straight to your core, folds fluttering around his rock hard cock. He pulled you back up by your throat so your back was flush against his chest, your hand reaching up to claw at his wrist, squealing. His hold was not suffocating, just restricting the amount of air you were allowed. The new angle made his cock poke and drag over your walls, sending you right into your much desired orgasm eyes rolling to the back of your head. He was panting heavily and movements faltering and sloppy from holding you and himself up like that. Your cunt clenching around him, milked him dry, him moaning and biting your shoulder one last time. He remained inside you as you both came down from your highs, removing his hand from your throat to your shoulder, stroking one of his own bite marks lightly. He pulled out and let you drop on your belly with a tired sigh turning into a heavy strained "oof!" As he fell over you playfully, barely careful not to crush you. "Fuck, (y/n). Looks like I did all the biting this time." He laughed as he held himself up on his forearms gently kissing and soothing your sensitive skin. "Shut up...damn... I'm gonna bite you again if this is what I'm gonna get every time." You muttered tiredly. "I was right. You are a kinky little thing." He smirked laying down next to you this time, draping an arm over your waist and nuzzling your neck "you can bite me whenever you want, baby girl. I'm in."

~push me away, push me away

Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay~

Hey hey hey @queensynderella

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader smut #hawks x reader lemon #hawks #takami keigo #bnha smut #bnha #mha smut #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #takami keigo x reader smut #takami keigo x reader lemon

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softykooky · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary: Three

summary: there is no longer a light at the end of the tunnel, you think. only people who haven’t been hurt can afford such a luxury as wishful thinking. but have you turned away before seeing that there is a glimmer. A teeny tiny, minuscule speck of light. 5.6k words.

genre: mafia au, angst, eventual ot7 x reader

warnings: physical/verbal abuse (not from the members), dysfunctional and toxic family dynamics, violence, just big sadness

author’s note: here it is!! thank you for all your kind words, again. it never goes unappreciated. apologies for all the plot holes :( i would definitely consider rewriting this in the future to fix that. on a more important note, please continue supporting the BLM movement by anything that you can do. whether it is donations, protesting, streaming videos, or educating others, no good deed is gone wasted.

one, two

In the brief time you’ve spent at their mansion, you’ve come to remember a few things. Taehyung snores. Loud and unapologetically so. Jungkook mumbles random words in his sleep, sometimes about cookies and other times about which kind of handgun has the least kickback. Jimin dyes his hair way too often. Yoongi spends too much time online shopping on the internet. Jin detests peanuts but loves peanut butter. Hoseok does not like you. Namjoon is secretly a big softie. In another timeline or life, you’d like to think you guys would be really close friends.

“Namjoon, please,” the desperation melted off your every word as the guard pulled you through the house by your arm. He only stared back at you quizzically.

“Since you’ve been here, you’ve refused to tell us why it is that you ran away. Seems to me like even with all this time, you haven’t been able to come up with a solid excuse for your hissy fit.”

You wanted to collapse.

“Your father offered us his services and cooperation in exchange for your return.” Hoseok sounded from beside Namjoon. That’s all you were ever good for anyway. A trading pawn. A stepping stone. You scoffed.

“You wouldn’t believe me now if I told you the truth, would you? Now that you’ve gotten your prize?” Your voice dripped in hurt and frustration.

“I’m glad I could be of service.” You watched in satisfaction as Hoseok’s smirk slowly straightened into a calculating gaze, not looking back as you walked away.

You allowed the guards to walk you up the stairs. Jungkook made his presence known from the top, boring into your eyes with the sheer intensity of a man scorned.

“Jungkook I-”

“Save it, your highness.” You recoiled at the poison of his words. You should’ve known better. Should’ve known that this whole time, while you were thinking Jungkook was your friend he just saw you as his prisoner. If he noticed the tears that welled in your eyes, he did not let it affect the stone cold expression meant for you. Yoongi pretended to look past you as if you were not there. Like you were not living and breathing in front of his eyes. The rest of them watched from a distance, smugly relishing in the fact that their assumptions have been confirmed, yet melancholy to see you go. You could only swallow down the lump that had risen in your throat, trying not to throw up as the guards led you out to a black SUV.

You didn’t allow yourself to look back. Or to cry. To feel anything that was not utter self-hatred for not knowing better and trying to escape when you had the chance.

“Goodbye, Y/N. I hope we’ll never have to meet each other again.” Namjoon spoke from behind you. You heaved a long breath.

“Thank you for everything, Namjoon”, you murmured quietly. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you walk away. You had thanked him. You thanked him for kidnapping you, keeping you hostage, and now returning you back to the family that you had desperately wanted to avoid for unknown reasons. His brows knitted in confusion, eyes still following your silhouette through the window of the car as it drove away.

“Jimin”, Namjoon addressed as he walked back into the house and plopped himself down at the dining table all of them had been sitting around. He noticed the way Jungkook’s eyes seemed to stick on the door you had just walked out of, sadness drooping his shoulders.

“Were you able to find anything on the ambassador?”

Jimin shook his head. “No. Nothing. He’s clean. Nothing more than a few parking tickets. If there was anything though, he probably had it scrubbed from police records.”

“Check it again.”

Namjoon couldn’t figure it out. The little pit in the bottom of his stomach that kept trying to bring him back to your situation. Like it was telling him that something was wrong. He only sighed, standing up and tucking your manila folder into the filing case. Now just another face among many.

The security guard had been glancing at you a few times too many from the rear view window now, as he drove you to your imminent doom. You didn’t know why you couldn’t not be spineless for once in your life. You didn’t know why you just let these things happen to you, but the fight you used to have has disappeared a long time ago.

“Ms. Yoo. Your father is on the line for you.” Your knees began to shake at the mention of your father. You hesitantly took the phone out of the agent’s hand, taking a minute to breathe before holding it up to your ear. You didn’t say a word, but you knew he knew you were listening.

“Y/N. How lovely it is to talk to you again, my daughter.” His voice made you want to vomit over the leather cushions of the SUV. You kept silent, only heavily breathing into the microphone.

“We’ve missed you terribly. Especially Soyeon.” Your sister.

“Dad...please. Don’t do anything to her.” You tried to steel your voice in the presence of your father, but the quiver was impossible to not notice.

“I would never Y/N. I would never make her pay the price for your insolence.” He sneered into the microphone, tone still dangerously calm and subdued. Deep down, you knew that the most your father had ever done to Soyeon was some strict discipline and a few harsh words. Most of the time, he ignored her. It seemed like he only had resentment for you. His firstborn and heir.

“Well, we’ll talk more when you get home, Y/N. Maybe you can tell me about everything you’ve been up to.” You internally winced as he emphasized the word “talk”. Both of you knew what that meant and you could practically feel the sole of his dress shoes already digging into the plane of your stomach. He hung up without another word. You stared out the window as the car drove over a bridge, wondering what it would be like if you ever had the courage to tell the world. About your life. Your father. Everything. Would they believe you? Or would they trust the word of a rich and powerful man like your father, as the boys had done? Your heart twinged at the remembrance of the men you had gotten to know for that short period of time. You wondered if they would ever think about you in the future, even if they all thought you were a brat with no good intentions. Perhaps Namjoon was right. Perhaps it would be better if you all never met again.

“We’ve arrived.” Your heart dropped to your stomach at his words. He escorted you out of the car. More gently than Yoongi had the first night you met them all, and you remembered the loyalty these men had to your father. You would never be able to run now, even if you tried. You were led up to a familiar cobblestone walkway. In through familiar Venetian double doors your mother had insisted were necessary. Familiar marbled tiles under your shoes. Familiar baccarat crystal chandelier strung over the foyer that cast the room in a light that was too harsh for your liking. And the familiar face of your father staring back at you, lips curved in a gentle smile that you knew held more darkness than he would ever show.

“My darling!” He embraced you in his arms as your tears disobeyed your will and trailed down the curve of your cheek. You fisted your hands at your sides.

“I’ve been so worried about you”, he whispered into your ear, breath fanning against the side of your neck. How a cold breath could come from a person, you did not know. But it was becoming increasingly clear to you that your father was losing his sense of humanity in front of your eyes. That he was no longer the man you once knew and loved.

He waved away the last of the security guards out of the house, still trapping you in his hold. Like a conniving snake to an innocent mouse. You found yourself regretting every decision you had made prior to this. Maybe if you had told Namjoon the truth, you wouldn’t be standing here, a mere weak princess in front of a fire-breathing dragon. Maybe if you told Jimin that your father had caused those ugly scars on your back. The front door closed with a gentle click, and the doting facade your father had masked on morphed into the expression of repugnance you knew all too well.

You heard the slap before you felt it. The discordant clash of skin on skin that rung through the space of the foyer. Your mother did always say the house had great acoustics. The force knocked you into the ground, hands coming out to soften the fall as your body crumpled against the cool marble. It hurt. Like always. A familiar pain that reminded you only of all the things you had ever done wrong. All the flaws that your father drilled into your head until you could not remember anything that was good about yourself.

“Do you know how difficult it’s been for me to keep the press at bay?” He spoke darkly, eyes raking over your figure in satisfaction as you laid still on the floor.

“Do you know how much money I’ve spent to shut down the rumors that you had run away?” He knelt down to you, emphasizing each word as you tried to look anywhere but at him. Tried to focus on anything but the pain on your skin and in your heart.

Don’t speak, Y/N, he’ll only hurt you more.

“Fucking useless, you know that Y/N?” He laughed humorlessly. You could hear the click of his shoes as he circled around you, like a predator to its prey. A father to his daughter. You hoped to god they were not steel-toed. He reached down and clumped a fist into your hair, forcing you upright as you shrieked at the pain in your scalp, every cell in your body urging you to fight back when you knew that would never end well for you. He slapped you again, this time forcing you to stay sitting as the momentum whipped your head to the side.

“Sometimes I wish you never fucking existed.”

Over the years, you have learned to build resistance to the physical pain. You learned how to get bloodstains out of your clothes. How to double wrap an ice pack so that it doesn’t melt so easily against your body heat. How to not feel your conscious when your father took his anger out on you. But you had never quite gotten the hang of not letting each word bite you to your core until you believed what he said to be the truth. You never learned to push away the pain each remark and insult would ignite in the back of your chest.

Yeah, me too.

You laid there as his fists pelted down on you relentlessly, like cold rain to a cement sidewalk. You shrieked each time his foot made contact with your stomach. You could feel the blood dripping down your nose, your forehead, your arms, your cheeks. Your father was a fan of accessorizing after all, the rings on his fingers was testament. You absorbed every affront and denigration he shot at you, like a sponge to water, staring ahead into space and wondering if there was such a thing as feeling so much pain that one becomes numb.

“Stop! you’re going to kill her.” Your eyes had been closed but you could recognize that voice from a mile away. Soyeon. Most of the time, she had just ignored the things your father did to you in fear of the same treatment. But she was here. The dark presence of your father disappeared overhead, and exhaustion and pain finally seeped into your bones. He was not hurting you anymore. You can let yourself succumb to sleep now.

There was one thing you were glad for though.

His shoes weren’t steel-toed after all.

You woke up with a gasp underneath a familiar ceiling of a room that you knew all too well. The numbing you had forced yourself to go under earlier had clearly worn off, and you could practically feel every bruise and wound as if they were being created then and there. The door opened slowly to reveal Soyeon wielding a glass of water. She froze in her step.

“Hi Soyeon-ie”, you smiled, trying not to grimace at the pain of stretching your face muscles. Imagine your surprise when Soyeon’s expression twisted in anger.

“How could you run away. Do you know how much I had to deal with Dad getting angry while you were gone?”

Soyeon’s own selfishness stunned you into silence. You knew he would never hurt her, it always had been just you. She was blaming you for trying to get away from him.

“You know why I ran away.” You casted your eyes elsewhere, too hurt and betrayed to even look at your own sister. It was selfish of you to leave her behind, yes. You wanted to take her with you, but you knew she was safe there. You knew she would have been fine.

“You left me Y/N. I didn’t know if you’d come back or if I’d ever see you again.” She set the glass of water down on your nightstand, sitting at the foot of your bed. You wanted to stay angry at her. At her consideration for only herself and how she suddenly seemed to forget all the hurt that your father puts you through. But you had gotten so used to apologizing for mistakes you never made. Blaming yourself for things you could not control.

“I’m sorry, Soyeon”, you whispered in the quiet of the room.

“But I’m here now. And it looks like I won’t be leaving in the near future.” Your words were masked in sadness. You had been so close to freedom, you could almost taste it. But you should’ve known that no matter where you go, your father always had a chain tied around your ankle, yanking you back to this life. Soyeon’s face lit up at your statement.

“Good! Well, mom’s in the Bahamas currently with some friends. Maybe I’ll take you shopping tomorrow? A new store just opened in Myeongdong!”

You gave her a smile. One that didn’t reach your eyes, but it wasn’t like Soyeon would notice. This was how it always went. She would block it out of her consciousness, pretending that your family was perfect and that nothing ever went wrong. She would pretend like you never got hurt, and moved on to the next topic. You always complied because Soyeon seemed happy. And that’s all you’ve ever wanted for her.

“Yeah. Sounds great, Soyeon-ie.” You had never wanted to disappear more in your entire life.

“Fantastic! Well, I’ll let you get some rest. Maybe later you can tell me about where you’ve been all this time.” She spoke cheerfully, smile falling slightly as the collar of your shirt drooped and revealed a blackening bruise on your decollete. Soyeon reached over and pulled it up, smiling once again now that it was out of sight, and out of mind. Not for you, though. You could still feel it. Then she left, closing the door gently behind her and leaving a broken you, holding the pieces of yourself together in a home you so badly wanted to get away from.

You won’t tell her about them, you think. You won’t tell her about Jungkook’s poetry book, Jimin’s care about your scars or Taehyung’s video games that you could hear across the thick wall. You won’t tell her about how Namjoon likes to pretend he’s got it all together but at heart, he seems like just another boy. You won’t tell her about Yoongi’s walks or Jin’s breakfast foods or how Hoseok folds your clothes neatly when he drops them off. And you definitely will not admit to yourself that you miss the people that captured you and sent you back here. You were their prisoner. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Jimin hasn’t slept in 48 hours.

For the first 24, it was because Namjoon assigned him to take care of all their new recruits, and he spent the day with a permanent frown etched on his face because most of them didn’t know how to hold a gun correctly. For the next 24, though, he’s been thinking about you. Jimin had grown used to your presence in the house, they all have. Though you were strangers, it seemed your souls naturally gravitated towards one another. Like magnets that were too timid to approach, too timid to open the bedroom door. More importantly, he’s been thinking about your father, and why you were just so dead set on running away.

He whips out from under his bed sheets, pushing away the headache and willing his eyelids to just remain open for a little longer. There must be something he’s missing about your family. Something small, or anything at all. But as ambassador, his records are sparkling clean, no trace of foul play or any significant offense at all. Even the tabloids could not dig anything up on the man. He seemed to be invincible.

He walks briskly to Taehyung’s office, where the man himself is planted in a spinny chair, pretending to do work and playing Pubg on his wall of monitors. Jimin coughs with amusement, causing Taehyung to almost jump out of his skin.

“You scared the shit out of me, you dummy.” He gasps dramatically, hand held to his chest as he exasperatedly stares at Jimin.

“Is that how you talk to your hyung?” Jimin slaps him upside the head.

“Anyway, I’ve got a favor to ask you. Can you try scrubbing the ambassador’s files again? Something just doesn’t feel right with me.” Taehyung groans at Jimin’s request, dejectedly turning off his game.

“I’ve gone through his profile so many times. There’s nothing, hyung. Not even a speck. I liked Y/N too, and I thought she was better than that but maybe we just gave her too much credit.” Taehyung did enjoy her presence. He always turned his game volume up a little too loud to hear an annoyed groan coming from the room next to him, just to know that she was there. She had always been kind, but after everything, Y/N was a different person than he thought.

“Just one more time, Tae? There has to be something”, Jimin pleads. “And besides, if you have time to play your video games you have time to do this.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever I’ll do it. Just get some sleep, you look like death.” Taehyung hums, putting his headset back on and turning to his multiple computers. Jimin sighs contently, yet still dissatisfied, feeling like he’s missing a piece of a puzzle he so desperately wants to solve. He pats Taehyung on the shoulders before turning around and leaving for his room. That night, Jimin is able to lie down in a comfortable bed. Stare at the ceiling he sees every time before he goes to sleep. He plugs in his phone and cozies up with a pillow, like he does every night. But this night, he drifts with the thought of you behind his eyelids.

Taehyung has no idea why Jimin has made him go over records of the ambassador so many times. Sure, the ambassador wasn’t someone he was overly fond of, he had made business for them difficult in the past with his high government position. But it seemed like Jimin wanted to find something incriminating, like he had a hunch there was something there. So he sifts through the press pictures. Sifts over the embassy camera feed. Sifts over his text messages, and bank statements, and even his restaurant ord-

Wait.

His bank statements.

There’s something there that Taehyung hadn’t seen before. It’s so small, he must’ve missed it in passing but it’s a breadcrumb. There’s a bill that had been paid through an offshore bank account, so that any normal audit would not be able to trace it back to the ambassador. Luckily for Taehyung, he’s the most brilliant hacker in the eastern hemisphere...or so he likes to believe. The bill is withdrawing a couple thousand dollars, but doesn’t state who the recipient is to. In a minute or two and obnoxious keyboard clicks, Taehyung finds that the ambassador has wire transferred nearly $10,000 to a hospital in the Seoul area.

Damn. Just hospital bills. Albeit offensively high hospital bills. Taehyung leans back in his seat in defeat, nearly doubling over as he realizes the time. He curses himself when he hears birds chirping outside, already hearing Hoseok’s nagging voice for not getting enough sleep. He hauls himself to the couch in his office and sleeps the night away, records of the ambassador forgotten on his computer screen.

“Tae, get your ass up, it’s 3 in the afternoon”, Jungkook nudges Taehyung awake, almost consorting to kneeing him the balls since he refuses to even open an eye. He groans before finally agreeing to sit up. Taehyung finds himself in his office, Jungkook annoyedly sitting beside him with Jimin and Jin sitting in the meeting space outside.

“Have you found anything?” Jimin sounds from his seat around the briefing table.

“No, I haven’t. Like the last 5 times you asked me to do it.” Taehyung pauses in his half-asleep words, sitting up and eyes shooting wide.

“Although there was something weird I hadn’t noticed before.” He leaves his office and sits at the table alongside Jin and Jimin.

“There was a hospital bill for 10k. Wired through an offshore account, probably a Cayman or a Swiss. It didn’t show up on his public statements. It looked like he wanted to hide it.” Thinking back to it now, Taehyung looks like an idiot for not pursuing this breadcrumb trail and choosing to sleep instead. Jimin continues looking at him expectantly.

“That was all, though. I traced it back to the recipient and it was the Asan Medical Center”, Taehyung trails off, mind still knitted in confusion as to what this could be leading to. Jungkook makes his appearance from the other room.

“What if it’s not the ambassador’s records we should be diving deeper into?” Jungkook says quietly in the tense atmosphere of the meeting room.

“What if it’s Y/N’s?” A daunting realization settles upon the four boys. If this breadcrumb trail leads to what they suspect it does, then they may have just made the biggest mistake of their career. Staring at each other in the basement of their headquarters marks the first time the boys hoped to god that their hunch was going to be wrong.

“NAMJOON!” Jimin bellows as he nearly sprints from the basement to the upper level to Namjoon’s office. The leader could hear the boy even from down the hall, his clumbering footsteps reminding Namjoon how much he paid for that expensive hardwood flooring. The door swings open to reveal a panting Jimin, clutching a familiar manila folder in his hand. He slams the folder onto his desk.

“Y/N’s folder is here because…..why?”

“We’ve been trying to dig up dirt in the wrong place. Our initial run-through of her profile hadn’t even revealed this. This was covered up with all kinds of firewalls.” Jimin’s hands are shaking at their newfound information. Namjoon seems to be in a permanent state of confusion, staring at Jimin as if he had grown two heads and a tail and is now speaking to him in another language.

“Slow down, Jimin-ah. Take it from the beginning.” Namjoon stops his incessant rambling and muttering.

“Okay, okay. So you told me to take another check through the ambassador’s profile right? So naturally, I passed the workload to Taehyung.” Namjoon snorts at his confession, far versed in the boys’ habits to know that Jimin always made Taehyung do tasks he did not have energy for.

“We must have missed it all the times before. Our dear friend the ambassador made a transaction through an offshore Cayman account, wire transferring $10,000 to Asan Medical Center in the Seoul area.”

Namjoon sits up straighter in his seat and leans over the table, eyes locking into Jimin’s with newfound intensity.

“There’s no reason why he would for himself. We’ve browsed through all of his public appearances over the past year and he shows no sign of any injury or need for hospitalization with that high a bill.” Jimin runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

“So Jungkook suggested we dive deeper into Y/N’s profile instead. Maybe we missed something like last time too. So we did, and...” He pauses.

“What, Jimin? Spit it out.” Namjoon’s patience and anticipation has run thin.

“In the past years, Y/N’s been hospitalized for a total of 3 times. At Asan Medical Center.” The air in the room seems to drop to sub zero degrees as Namjoon and Jimin work to connect the dots.

“Taehyung looked into her hospital records, and it took him more than 10 minutes.” The statement shocks Namjoon, as all of them knew Taehyung could dig up dirt on a person in mere seconds.

“On the first visit, Y/N came in unconscious with multiple head and body contusions, fractured ribs, a concussion, and a broken collarbone. She had to get surgery. Jin suspects the records were so buried because someone must have bribed the hospital to keep it hidden. There’s one person involved that has that kind of money and power.” Namjoon’s face pales at the realization. He had a hunch from the beginning, and he knew he should’ve just listened to it. Now he may have just sent you off to your death with you thinking they all hated you.

“So what you’re saying is Y/N’s father…” Namjoon can’t bring himself to complete his sentence.

“What I’m saying is Y/N’s father seems to be deliberately covering up these hospital records unnecessarily well if it were just an accidental injury. There’s no clear link to domestic abuse, but…well, you’ve seen the way she is.” Jimin wants to knock himself upside the head for not seeing the clear signs right in front of his eyes. The way you flinched at every sudden movement. The way you refused to tell them anything about why you ran away. Maybe this whole time, you had been trying to protect your bastard father for god knows what reason. The two breathe in the silence of Namjoon’s office as the leader thinks it over, mind muddling with all the new information and trying to find a course of action.

“Tell Taehyung to hack into the security cameras of the ambassador’s house in Seongbuk-dong.”

For the time being, your father has cut off your access to a cell phone and other communication devices. You were to remain with Soyeon for an indefinite time, and she is your chaperone for any endeavors outside the house. He hadn’t said a word to you since he left you unconscious on the floor not even 10 minutes after you stepped foot into the doorway. That’s how it always was. To your father, you ceased to exist other than when your family makes public appearances or when you mess up and he feels entitled to discipline you. Not that you could leave the house anyway. You could barely walk for extended times without feeling your chest cave in.

“Y/N! Mom’s home.” Soyeon cheerfully sounded from the bathroom as she dusted a generous coat of pink blush onto her cheeks. You continued staring at the wall, in the same position you had been in for hours.

Your mom has been a side character in your life. She was never in one place for long. Never too affectionate with you, only was there to look pretty and doting to your father, all the while pretending that your family was perfect in every sense. Even before your father changed, she never emphasized her duty as a mother to you. Soyeon helped you wobble to the family living room, where both your parents were situated on the same couch. You avoided your father’s gaze like the plague.

“Hi, Mom.” You managed a small smile for her. One that she returned before placing her attention back on her phone. If your mother noticed your injuries and bandages, she did not let it phase her expression for a single millisecond. You sighed quietly to yourself, wondering if things would turn out differently if your mother cared an ounce for you.

You spent the rest of the evening at the dinner table. You did your part, pushing around oven-roasted potatoes with your sterling silver fork and pretending that you were a normal family having a normal dinner. Your mother strategically angled the family dinner picture to hide your injuries, posting it onto her social media account with far too many heart emojis. Soyeon chattered away about her new sponsorship deals, the new clothes she bought, the new friends she’s made, and even what she had for breakfast. And your father, well, you were just too scared to even look his way to notice what he was doing. But you reckon he appreciated you keeping your mouth shut at the table.

As Soyeon talked on about the Maison Margiela boots she’s been dying to get her hands on, you found your mind drifting to a certain group of people. You wondered if they’ve thought about you since. If they had an ounce of remorse for sending you away, or even a sliver of longing. You wondered if they had enjoyed talking with you as you had with them, or had they let their presumptions completely tarnish your image. Were they eating well? Sleeping enough?

You picked at an oily asparagus. Hoping they would miss you was wishful thinking. You couldn’t afford to do that anymore. Last time you did, you got kidnapped by a gang that sent you straight back into the jaws of your father.

The boys couldn’t tear their eyes away from the large TV screen in the briefing room, reflecting the footage of the ambassador’s mansion foyer. The room had gone silent. Cold. The kind of cold that hits you in the gut like a sharp icicle. The kind of cold that stokes an icy blue fire. Their hearts sank in their chests.

There you were. Getting beaten to a pulp by your father in your own home, with no security guards or maids around to see. You pushed back in the beginning, but the boys could almost physically see the fight leave your weak body as your monster of a father unleashed his hatred on you. They all wanted to throw up. Namjoon pushes away the tears that threaten to leave his eyes, turning back to the round table of boys who now had a new flame in their eyes.

“I-I should have known.” He loses his breath at the words, nearly collapsing into his chair.

“I should have known someone like Y/N wouldn’t run away like that. I should’ve known there was a reason she didn’t want to tell us anything.” He buried his face in his hands, kicking himself for letting you go.

“So those hospital bills….he covered them up because he caused her injuries.” Jungkook spoke out in the tense silence, not hiding his tear streaked face as his eyes remained glued on the TV screen. He would make himself watch it. For you, and the hurt he’s put you through.

“And the scars on her back.” Jimin trails off, fists clenched in anger at the mere thought of your father.

It was Hoseok, though, that actually bolted out of the room and heaved the contents of his stomach into a toilet bowl. How would he face you ever again? After all that he’s said and done. After all the assumptions he made about your character without even giving you time to breathe and create a response. Hoseok had just held this animosity against people of your stature. People like your father and your mother who grew up in money, and uses it to remain in power. He, alongside the 6 other boys, had fostered their own success from scraps and dirt. Now you were paying for their mistakes in ways that none of them wanted to even think about.

“Namjoon. We have to go save her.” Jin pipes up. They all heard the quiver in his voice and caught sight of the shaking in his hands as he looked towards the leader.

No, they wouldn’t just save you. They would get you justice. They would dismantle your father and maybe kill him while they were at it. This would be the price for their mistakes against you. As he looks back at his brothers, figures slumped in regret and shame, he wonders if you’ll be able to forgive them. Despite the short time, they had all bonded with you in some way or other.

“Yoongi, could you round up our retrieval team?” Namjoon’s face steels as he faces them, expression almost dead if it weren’t for the complete wrath that burned in his eyes.

“I’ve been meaning to visit Seongbuk-dong. I hear it’s lovely this time of year.”

taglist: @pinkyhim, @deolly, @loveyoongles, @drunkzseok, @hope122598, @uwunamjoon, @nomimits7, @bubblebunnylia, @aquaalanah , @juliie-ocha , @daydreambrliever, @btsbabby, @rosiethefairy, @blank-et-noir , @tiredjedi , @myheartstaysinkorea

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lightsaberupmybutt · 3 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd - Reader/Ben Solo/Poe Damerson (Modern AU)

alright so Ben/Kylo is a big ego kid in this, because of course. Also, Rey is ACTUALLY Lukes daughter in this, making them cousins. Ive fiddled with the plot okay sue me.

Summary: Poe, Finn and their roommate have been living in a harmonious tenancy, but when Finn decides to move out for a year of travelling, the two are left with no option but to look elsewhere for their third body. Rey Skywalker, a friend of the group, proposes her cousin for the role. He's in a band, wears all black and all in all is somewhat of a social reject - but he's also all theyve got.

“I think that one was actually somehow worse than last weeks” You tell Poe, as he pours himself a juice and settles down next to you on the sofa. You'd just finished showing around another possible roommate and you felt exhausted in every sense of the word.

“How can he be worse than the neo nazi?” Poe shot you an unbelieving look and rolled his eyes, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and knocking some of your papers in his wake.

“Alex was a she, and they asked if they could hang their deer head in the front room” you grimaced even thinking about it, weren't all artsy college students supposed to be vegetarians anyway? why did you have to get saddled with the only blood thirsty one on campus.

“Thats not so bad”

“Poe she showed me a picture of her taxidermied cat”

“Oh”

You had tried to find a polite way to stop her from passing you her phone, but you were too nice to make her feel uncomfortable, and now the image of the long dead tabby would remain behind your eyes for god knows how long.

“was she hot?” You shook your head, causing Poe to sigh wistfully.

“Not hot enough to cancel out her obsession with dead bodies anyway” you informed him, the hopeful look from his eyes gone.

“Face it Poe, were doomed” You let your head fall into your hands, Poe letting out a laugh before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Hey we’ll get someone! who wouldn't want to live here?” You knew his question was rhetorical but when looking around the cleaner than usual flat, you had to admit it was missing something. Bare spaces on the walls from where Finn had taken down his pictures, the empty side of the kitchen counter that had once houses his overpriced coffees. You even missed picking up his empty cups after him, the room feeling like it had less character without them. It truly hadn't felt the same in the flat since Finn had left, and although Poe concealed it well, you could see it was getting to him too. Poe had, after all, known Finn first; Finn managing to get a very drunk and outspoken Poe out of a sticky situation he had found himself in when running across a local gang in a dive bar. The ‘first order’ as they so called themselves, had an infamous reputation around campus for being trouble makers and general doers of bad deeds. Ever since that night they had been an unstoppable duo, until they met you of course, and their duo became three.

You loved Finn, and you knew told miss him like hell, but you also knew that Poe must be feeling that ten times over.

“You wanna do something tonight?” You asked, changing the subject before his mind drifted to where yours had.

“what kind of something?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,

“Gross”

“hey I'm serious!”

“what about Razor Crest, they are open late, we could grab some drinks and meet up with some people”

Razor crest was the only worth while bar in town; it was certainly nothing to write home about, but it played fairly decent music and it had a marginally less sticky floor than others. Additionally, your other friends lived just over from the humble saloon, making it the perfect watering hole for you guys.

It didn't take much convincing before you had Poe out the door and ready to socialise. Upon arrival, he headed to the bar while you were waved over by Rey, who had already found a booth and was already at least a few drinks in.

“Look, i think i have a solution to your roomie problemo” She told you, peeking over her straw, a gleam in her eye that made you feel not all too confident in her yet to be spoken plan.

“Go on” you told her, cautiously.

“My cousins back in town” She told you between gulps.

“The weird one?” You asked,

“Hes not weird, just ...eccentric” the last word was more of a question, but you could tell she was on a roll,

“He's just joined one of the college bands and Auntie Leia says him and Uncle Han are butting heads”

“ah cool, weve always wanted live music in our own flat at 2 am” Poe injected, rejoining the table and placing a drink in front of you before taking a sip of his own.

“hes not BAD at it, he just plays loud i think” She corrected him, “anyway, he's not a total twat, I'm sure he would be considerate of your sleep schedules”

“didn't he try and stab you with a stick when you were five” you asked her, you'd heard stories of this cousin before and none of them were quite savoury,

“that was ages ago! he's like way old now” she was starting to slur her words, but you had a feeling this was something Rey was quite set on. Rey was stubborn, and when she got something in mind she would move hell to make it happen; she was also your best friend, and someone you trusted the judgment off. Had she gotten you into some weird shit in the past? sure.

Did you have any other options; nay on that.

“Fine, get Han or Leia to bring him round at some point next week and one of us will give him a tour” You tell her, and she lets out a little happy shrill at her own personal win. Poe, not so much.

“Speak for yourself, weirdo cousin can see himself around” he crosses his arms and pouts, you give him a little nudge.

“Hey, maybe you'll be best mates” you offer, but when he shoots you a death stare you go back to your drink.

The family turmoil must have been more vicious than Rey had let in on; It was barely the next morning before you had a tall, intimidating male knocking on your door.

“Hey!” you offered him, in as cheery a voice as your hung over self would allow.

He looked down at you from his towering height, but gave no verbal response.

“You must be Ben?...” He offered you the slightest nod you'd had ever seen in response. Okay so, not much of a talker, noted.

You waved him in, shutting the door behind him. God, he looked even bigger inside? is that possible? Rey had failed to mention the sheer height on the boy. You'd seen pictures of her and her aunt and uncle, it seemed like Ben was a scientific and biological mystery. Like how did he get clothes to fit? did he have to shop somewhere special or

you were snapped out of your thoughts by a clearing of a throat.

“So, how much is the rent” so he DID have a voice,

You informed him automatically, still part dazed.

“Ill be in by the weekend” he told you, and with a nod he moved past you, making his way back to the door.

“But wait .. y .. you haven't even seen your room yet?” You stumbled, dumbfound by the lack of foreplay. The previous people you had shown around were full of questions; they wanted to know the ins and outs of the place. Ben had seen all of the door way and the front room and he was already signing the lease.

“See you then” he didn't stop, hand on the door knob as if you hadn't spoken.

“But i don't have your phone number” you don't know why that came to you first, but it was true. At no point had Rey offered you direct contact with Ben, probably assuming he would. It seemed reasonable, that you'd need his number before he moved in, didn't it? Poe was always texting you about random shit in the flat, arguably too much, but it seemed like the norm for people coexisting in such a small space.

He turned back at you and gave you a confused look,

“why would you need my number?”

“erm... to talk to you” your condescending tone not completely masked,

“but ill be living here” he stated, which, he had you there.

Before you could even think of a response he was out the door.

True to his word, Ben had his things over by that very same weekend. Although it was unsurprising considering just how light he packed. In fact, other than his bass and musical equipment, you couldn't really think of anything he had actually brought with him to the flat. You got to meet his parents when they dropped him off, both of whom seemed leaps and bounds more conversational than their son. Ironically, you got Leia’s phone number before her sons; her telling you to message if you ever needed anything. It felt like an indirect jab at Ben, a ‘if he fucks up let me know’, but you digress. The tension between Ben and his dad was blatantly obvious, them sharing no words before he got back into the car and Ben into the house. He did give his mum a small hug goodbye though, and you thought you saw a small tear in her eye before she managed to wipe it away.

Since his move in, Ben had kept painfully to himself. You barely saw him at all in those first days, just heard him through the walls the odd time he dropped something - or saw a plate or cup gone from their places in the kitchen. To be honest , it felt more like a paranormal haunting than a new roommate. Poe was vocal of his apprehension to the situation, sharing glances with you when you would both be in the living room and you'd see ben scurry by or passive aggressively texting you when his favourite cup had been used by someone who wasn't him. it was a relatively small issue, but Poe had blown it so out of proportion that you had ordered a new set of cups from Amazon and sent him the link, shutting him up for a while before he found something else to complain about.

it was the fifth day before you actually bumped into ben again. He was on the sofa with his base set up, twiddling with his amp. The sight surprised you so much you physically jumped back, causing him to look up. crap. act cool. act cool.

“hey” you offered him

“hi” hi replied back, looking back down at his amp.

right, yer. his space, give him his space. Just get your stuff and go back to your room. don't speak to him, leave him alone. he clearly wants to be left alone.

“nice day isn't it” you wanted to cover your mouth, the words coming out against your will. Truthfully, you had no clue why you said it. You hadn't even looked at the weather this morning. Its just what people say right?

“Erm” his eyes shot to the window and then back to yours,”no”

sure enough, it was pissing it down outside. The sky was actually comically grey and you'd have laughed if you werent so angry at yourself. You were unsure of what to do, and he was still looking at you, almost assessing you. His eyes were so serious and dark they felt like they were burning tiny holes into your skin. shit, you had to speak now right?

While regretting every single life decision that had brought you into this kitchen at this time, Poe sauntered into the room like your night in shining armour, ignoring Ben all together and coming straight over to you, placing a big arm around your shoulders. You saw Ben drop his head back down to this bass, and you used all your might to not let out a sigh of relief.

“Tonight, I'm taking you out” He offered, a cheeky gleam in his eye.

“Are you now”

“Razor crest, drinks and dancing, be there or be square” He lists off as if he's a paid promoter, causing you to let out a giggle.

“Whos invited?”

“just the gang” he said, causing you to shoot him an eye roll, knowing full well you ‘gang’ consisted of all of three people, yourself and Poe included in that number.

but then you remembered, there was another person now, whether they liked it or not. Poe’s eyes followed yours to Ben and then back to meet yours again, you saw the realisation change to disgust, as he shook his head silently at you.

you knew this look, the ‘don't you dare’ look, the ‘not in 1000 years’ look. But you couldn't help it, your lips were moving before you could stop them for the second time this morning.

“Are you free tonight, Ben?’

The look of sheer betrayal on Poe's face made you wince, surely he'd understand right? he knew you well enough to know your verbal diarrhoea problem.

Ben didn't even look up, but he did let out a small laugh that felt quite antagonistic.

“i dont go to Razor Crest”

“i don't go to razor crest ugh” Poe mocked, causing Rey to let out a hysterical giggle, and you a sigh.

You'd been out for all of three hours and you were all already feeling the effects of the alcohol. It was late and the bar was jam packed with students all raring to go. Poe had been making eyes at one particular red head almost all night and you were half surprised he hadn't already made his move. Poe put out, it was a fact. You and Finn had at one time made a fridge chart for him, a gold star awarded every time he brought girl home. Whether the goal was to make him feel proud of his conquests or embarrassed, you still weren't 100% sure, but after a month or so you had both lost count and given up. You told yourself it didn't bother you, that he was just a friend, and that he owed you nothing, but every time he left you at the bar for another girl something stung inside; something you pushed deep down but regrettably was still there none the less.

Sure enough, as the night progressed, you and Rey ended up fending for it alone, and instead of feeling sorry for yourself you decided to do the responsible thing and drink more.

After the third round of shots, Rey calls it in.

“I think I'm gonna be sick” she tells you sheepishly, and you can't help but belly laugh in response. She starts to shuffle towards the door and you go to follow.

“Hey don't leave on my behalf” she tells you earnestly, but you wave her off.

“Nah I've had my fill, I'm starting to forget which flat number i live at” you tell her, causing her to giggle this time.

You both stumble out the bar, past the smokers and up the cobbled road towards her flat. She unlocks her door and lets herself in, not before giving you a drunken hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

As you ready yourself to make your way back to your own flat, you come back past the bar entrance; a particularly prominent cobble causes you to trip ever so slightly and gain a whoop from a group of boys who were passing round a box of marlboro straights.

You suddenly realised just how dark it was and just how alone you were. Most nights you wouldn't stay out this late, and if you did, then you'd normally be walking back with finn. You let out a shiver, a mix of both the cold night air finally breaking through your drunken daze and a smidge of fear. The Razor Crests entrance lights were getting progressively further away, and although you know that you only had a maximum of a half mile walk back to your home, it felt like ample distance to get kidnapped or murdered in, most probably both.

How many true crime stories started with a young drunk girl, scantily clad and out alone at night? You could hear the police reports now, which photo would they use? you prayed it would be a hot one, at the very least one after your thin brow phase.

Being literally bumped back into reality, in almost a cruel humorous way, you felt yourself walk head first into a figure, their arms coming out to catch you as the sheer momentum bounced you back.

Oh god, I'm dead. I'm literally going to die.

“Hey, chill out” The voice made your heart beat both slow and race again,

“Ben?!” you shrieked, voice hoarse through pure anticipation of your thought to be demise

“Are you okay” he asked, and only then did you realise you were shaking like a leaf.

“Im fine” you let out in a small voice, looking down at your shoes. You could feel the redness in your cheeks through pure embarrassment alone. This was not an ideal situation for him to see you in, and you kind of started to with that he had been a murderer, at least then you wouldn't have to deal with the second hand embarrassment in the morning.

“What are you doing out here”

“why are you out alone”

you both asked simultaneously,

“I was coming out for a smoke” He told you, flashing his tobacco pouch at you from inside his coat. His very warm looking coat, might you add. Another shiver ran down your body.

“Im coming home from Razor Crest” you tell him, trying to be matter of fact but slurring your words just enough to spoil the show.

“Yes obviously, but why are you alone” he shoots back in some what of a patronising tone, it wouldn't sit well with sober you and it definitely doesn't go down well with drunk you.

“Im a big girl”

“clearly” he makes, making extra sure to look you up and down from his towering distance above you, causing you to huff.

“well i can take care of myself”

“you shouldn't be out alone around here, its not safe” he ignores your response, looking you dead in the eye.

You feel something inside you flutter, a warmth that you can't quite control. Okay, ben might be weird and a bit annoying it would seem, but he was handsome, thats for sure. The limited light danced off his strong features and dark shaggy mop of hair, making him look both dangerous and appealing.

As if you were standing here mentally flirting with the idea of being with Res cousin; you made a mental note to punish yourself for the ludicrous thoughts in the morning.

“Okay well I'm going home now” you tell him, attempting to push past him, but his large hand finds its way to your forearm and pulls you back,

“yes, you are, come on” If what he said before was patronising, he was now speaking to you like you were a dog he was walking.

“go have your nicotine, ive got this one covered” you tell him with a mock salute, causing him to roll his eyes. He lets go of your arm and you take your win, trying to step confidently away without falling. You're proud of yourself for handling the situation when you realise he's following all of 10 steps behind you, rolling a cigarette in his hands while holding a filter between his teeth.

when he catches you looking, he nods down to his hands,

“want one?” he mumbles between his lips, still holding the filter pride of place.

“no thanks” you snap, picking up pace.

Ben smirks at you, but you miss it, too focused on not embarrassing yourself and keeping your feet in line.

#Star Wars #Star Wars imagine #star wars modern au #kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #Ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo x y/n #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader

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thewildomega · 3 years

Text

Feral Red Dog Ch.6

Loneliness. Worthless. Forsaken. Those were just some of the emotions you felt. Life was meaningless, you knew this now. Blinking slowly you stared at the wall. There would soon be a hole in it if you kept on. Letting out a long breath you could do nothing but listen to the world go on outside of this home... no not a home. Prison. This was your prison. The quietness was almost maddening. How long had it been now? How long since you had spoken a single word? You couldn't even remember. He had been gone for a while now, a week at least probably going on two now. He hadn't even came and told you he was leaving himself. A note, that was all he left was a measly note on the kitchen counter.

'I have a mission. Don't leave the house for any reason. If you disobey you will be punished.'

That was it. There was no goodbye or 'if you need something...' or even an I'll miss you. Nothing. But honestly what did you expect. After all he had made it perfectly clear that he didn't want you.... not the real you. Blinking again you sighed slowly, letting your eyes slip shut.

..............................

He had gotten home earlier today. It was a Sunday and the weather was nice, perfect for what he was doing. Biting the inside of your lip you rubbed your arm and took a deep breath. "Try and talk to him." that had been Sengoku's advice when he had stopped by to see you days ago. After you had quickly told him that you hated this marriage he had sighed deeply, as he did so often.

"Sakazuki can be difficult to understand but he is your husband... your alpha. Talk to him, get to know each other."

So here you were. He had gotten home early and he looked to be simply relaxing as he sat on the deck pruning one of the trees. The sun was nearly down but there was still enough light for him to do his gardening. Glancing to his shoulders you saw them not stiff as they usually were. Swallowing hard you quietly walked out onto the deck with him. Moving to stand a few feet away from him you watched him snip off tiny branches here and there. His large hands were so careful with the tree, so gentle. Funny they always seemed to be the exact opposite with you. The shape of the tree itself was nice and neat, you knew he must have worked hard at getting it to stay that way. So busy admiring the bonsai you startled a bit when his deep voice spoke.

"What is it?"

Blinking you lifted you eyes up his strong arms to his face and licked your lips. "I.. I was just watching you."

"Don't."

"But I..."

"I'm relaxing. Go find something to do."

Clenching your teeth you held back your temper when it threatened to burst. He didn't even look at you. Feeling a small pain in your chest you breathed out and let your fists relax as you turned and left him alone like he wished.

...............................

A few days later you had tried again, this time it was late at night and you had gotten up to go to the bathroom to find him in the living room looking over papers. He had missed supper again, in fact you hadn't seen him since the afternoon he had been pruning his bonsai. Quietly walking out to the lamp lit room you saw him only glance at you for a second before his eyes went back down to the file in his hand.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

His voice sounded gruff, annoyed. It should have been warning enough to leave but as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. You didn't quit understand the whole alpha/omega bond the two of you had but you knew the omega in you desired her alpha's attention. "I was." you answered him when you remembered he had said something. Taking another step forward you looked to the spot on the couch next to him. "Do you want some company?" you asked in a soft voice. He didn't answer you at first and you furrowed your brows, moving to take another step forward, "Hello?"

"Leave me alone! If I ever want your company I will let you know!" he barked.

Flinching at the snarl in his voice you felt your heart clench and your shoulders curl up some. Seeing those black eyes look at you with so much annoyance, that it could be mistaken for hatred you quickly dropped your eyes down. Without a word you walked back to your room and curled up in bed, not being able to hold back the few tears that dropped from your eyes.

.................................

The two of you hadn't spoken much since then. He was never home, when you woke he was already gone and after nights of staying up waiting to share dinner with you had finally given up. Alone, you were always so alone. Well except when his need for your body became too much. A few days before he left you had went into his room to get your clothes after a shower only to be startled by the sound of his deep voice. You hadn't even known he was home. Tightening your hold on the towel wrapped around your body you looked up into his dark eyes, wondering how it was those black depths seemed to shine in the darkness. Quickly offering to go warm up his dinner that you had just put up before your shower you stepped over to the dresser to grab your clothes but he stopped you. Tugging you to him by your wrist you felt the heat radiating off his large body even through his clothes and your towel. He said not a word as he pulled the towel from you, leaving you standing in the room naked. Everything else happened quickly, his rough hands picking you up and moving you to his bed. How you wished those hands would be as gentle with you as he was his bonsai trees. that night had been no diffrent than the last few times he had taken you, at least this time it was in his bed though. Still he took no care with you or your needs. A deep growl from your alpha provided the slick he needed to use you how he saw fit. Once he was done he rolled off of you and stared up at the ceiling. Looking to his rising and falling chest your eyes traced his tattoo, hesitantly moving your hand towards the black lines you stopped when he spoke.

"What are you still doing here?"

Thinking you had heard him wrong you blinked and furrowed your brows. "What?"

"Go to your bed."

Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment before you felt your lip tremble and your eyes brim with tears. Seeing his eyes still closed you slowly and silently got up from his bed, feeling that ache in your body that always happened after a mating session with him. Stopping only to pick your towel up off the floor you peeked back at him to see him still laying there, paying you no mind. Biting your lip you to hold back your sob you left him and went into your own lonely bed. Curling up you buried your face into the pillow and cried.

....................................

You were nothing but a slave to him. A person that lived in his house, cleaning and cooking for him along with taking the role of his personal whore when he saw fit. He didn't see you as his mate, his omega and he damn sure didn't see you as his wife. No he didn't care about you, you don't even know why he wanted you in the first place. From what you understood the marines wanted all of their higher up married you didn't exactly know why but if that was true then maybe he didn't really want you. Maybe you were just his best option. Some measly omega that he had found and knew that by law you wouldn't be able to turn him down. If that was true then there really was no hope. Even if you decided to give this marriage a shot, to try and make the most out of this situation you had been forced into, if he didn't care then it would go nowhere. You were doomed to this life forever.

Sniffling you pushed your tired body up from the bed. Rubbing your sore neck you winced at how awful you felt, how weak. You didn't think you were getting sick, you hadn't even been out around anyone else. Maybe you just needed to get up and move around a bit. Sighing you started cleaning what little there was to clean. You motivation didn't last long however and all too soon you wanted to do nothing. Deciding to take a hot shower you got in and just stood there, letting the water run over you. Tilting your head back you felt your brows scrunch up as your headache worsened.

Getting out of the shower you dried and walked to his bedroom to grab your clothes but froze as the drawer opened. Slowly reaching inside you lifted the black shirt up and brought it to your nose. As soon as the delicious musk filled your nose you felt your eyes close, your head seeming to grow hazy. Just standing there in the middle of the room, completely naked you kept your nose buried in the fabric. A warmth enveloped your body, a consuming heat. Opening your eyes slightly you licked your lips and felt your feet move for you as your nose stayed buried into the shirt.

You only half registered what it was you were doing, your mind on full auto-pilot. Grabbing this and that you made your way back into the bedroom you had been sleeping in and over to the closet. Opening the door you looked down to the floor and blinked slowly. Crouching down you rubbed the wooden door with your fingertips, closing your eyes as memories flooded your mind. Wood grain, the rattling of chains. Swallowing hard you took in a shaky breath. Ever so meticulously you began placing things in the dark, hidden space. Once it was done you crawled inside and pushed your fingers under the door to close it, leaving only the smallest crack there. Clenching your fingers into the shirt, his shirt you whimpered. Feeling both afraid and something else, something strong and overwhelming, you tugged the blanket up over you more. Closing your eyes you breathed in the male scent. "Alpha?"

........................................

Whimpering your back arched as you tossed and turned in your pile of softness. A thud was heard as you kicked the wall but you paid it no mind. It felt like your body was encased inside of a itchy, stuffy bodysuit. Everything ached and nothing you did seemed to relieve the need. The only thing that did any good was when your hand would drift down between your legs, your fingers rubbing desperately at your sex. It was all for nothing though since the feeling was back moments later. While your rational brain told you that this was your heat, the thing you heard omegas went through you couldn't much think on the matter since your head felt fuzzy. It was like you were drunk... really, really drunk. You had only left your safe space once to go fetch another one of his shirts and the pillows from his bed but even then you had stumbled into the walls, struggling to keep your footing as the world spun.

Letting out a desperate whine your nose buried itself into his shirt, your hips rolling on their own against his pillow that was shoved between your thighs. He was all you could think of, your alpha. You wanted him. Needed him. The fact that he wasn't here made tears pour from your eyes. What had you done wrong? Why wasn't he here with you? Why wasn't he helping you? Didn't he care?

Imagining it was his hand that was touching you, you bit your lip so hard you tasted blood. Pushing two fingers into your aching core you gasped out a hoarse cry. That wasn't enough though, you didn't want his hands, well not just his hands, no you wanted him, his cock. Swallowing hard you began pumping your fingers in and out of your throbbing sex. He would hold you down under him like he always did, his hard, hot body practically engulfing yours as his hips snapped into yours at a merciless pace. Letting your imagination run ramped you were soon moaning out in bliss. Panting you felt your chest heaving and your sweat covered body trembling.

That moment of peace didn't last long however and all too soon that uncomfortable feeling started up again. Sobbing out you rolled to your side and scratched at your skin. You were so tired. Help. "Alpha help." you cried, tears continuing to roll from your eyes. Screaming so loud your throat burned you pulled one of the blankets over you, craving your alphas warmth. Closing your eyes you opened them again when you heard the sound of a door opening followed by the feel of cooler air. "Alpha?" you spoke, your voice cracking. Peeking out of the covers you looked up and squinted your eyes as light flooded in behind the person standing in the doorway.

...................................

It was late when his ship got back and the streets of marine ford were empty as he made his way home. Seeing a few lights on he furrowed his brows, he wasn't expecting her to be up. In all actuality he was halfway expecting her to have been gone. Finding the door busted open he knit his brows and grit his teeth. Readying himself for an attack he enter the home quietly. Silently setting his bag down he walked into the living room but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was sitting in one of his armchairs. "Tsuru?"

Lifting her eyes from the book she had been reading the vice admiral looked to her younger college and blinked. "Welcome back."

"Where is Y/n? Are you the one who busted in my door?" he grit out.

Seeing the male go to walk away, no doubt in search of his omega she raised her chin. "Sit down Sakazuki, you and I have much to discuss."

......................................

Fixing the door as best he could until tomorrow after Tsuru made her leave, he removed his shoes and tossed down his cap and keys to the table. With a deep sigh he brushed back his hair and walked to his bathroom to start the bath. He didn't have much in forms of oils but he did add in a small amount of salts to help with any soreness. Removing his coat and then shirt he tossed them to the bin and unbuckled his belt and pants, pushing them down his legs. Waiting until the water was filled enough he turned it off before making his way out and to the closed guest bedroom door. Grabbing hold of the knob he turned it, slowly opening the door. Hit with the intense aroma of her heat he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes tight. Taking a moment to get himself under control he opened his eyes back and crossed the dark room to the small closet where Tsuru said she was. He could hear the smallest whimpering coming from inside and then what sounded like mumbling. Furrowing his brows he opened the door and looked down to see a small lump in the nest she had created in the cramped space. Crouching down he let his eyes scan over the nest she had made, her comfort zone. The closet itself wasn't a large closet, not as big as the one in his own room and he knew she had to keep her knees bent just to fit inside. Still she had chosen this place. Inside she had various things laid about, the blanket from the guest bed, pillows... his pillows. There was the throw from the couch then there was some of his clothes. Was that a towel?

Sighing he looked back down to her, she was fully covered by the blanket, head and all but he could hear her whimpering still. Carefully peeling back the blanket covering her he saw her eyes closed, she was sleeping but it didn't look to be peacefully. Seeing the the blotches on her cheeks from where she had been crying along with the deep set shadows he furrowed his brows. With it being so dim he couldn't see much but he would be able to soon enough. Gently pushing his hands under her bent knees and back he lifted her up into his arms. At first she startled, a weak and heart wrenching whimper leaving her dry, cracked lips. Quickly purring for her he watched her head tilt more towards him and saw her mumble something he couldn't register.

As he stood he let the blanket fall back to her nest and turned to carry her out of the room. Getting into his bathroom he was able to see her clearly in the light and furrowed his brows more, his lips forming a firm line. There were scratches all over her, some deep enough to break her skin. A larger group of them seemed to be around her neck and when he lifted one hand to push her hair back he saw she had been scratching at the claiming mark there, the still red scar even more inflamed. She even looked to have lost weight again, along with being dehydrated. Tsuru's words were soon echoing in his head.

"...She is not your slave, she is not one of your officers, she is your wife, your mate. Start treating her as such! It was your decision to claim her, you chose to be a bonded alpha so take responsibility and start acting like one Sakazuki!...."

Sighing he closed his eyes for a moment. The alpha in him was enraged to see his omega in this state. She had been suffering and the bad part was he had knew, he could feel it. The whole time he had been gone he felt off with his omega so far away from him. As of a few days ago that feeling had worsened, he had become irritable, even more so than usual. At night when he would go back to his cabin he would toss and turn, his heart clenching and his cock throbbing. When he would finally get to sleep he would wake up to his arm reaching out across the bed, searching for his mate to pull her into his chest but she was never there. It was like the alpha knew his omega needed him not that it mattered anyway.

For the three months they had been married now he hadn't been the husband he should have. While yes in the beginning she was just as difficult she had started to try. She tried to talk to him, to get close to him but he only pushed her away. A couple weeks before he had left she had tried to just simply sit with him while he was working but he had yelled at her. He knew he had messed up that night, he knew he had hurt her feelings but he had done nothing, even when he felt that clenching in his chest. After that she never tried again. Whenever he was home she stayed away from him, gave him the space he had demanded.

He should have apologized, should have called her back in there and allowed her to sit with him.... in all honesty he should have just called it a night. They didn't sleep together, they had only shared a bed on their wedding night. A simple fix, pick her up and carry her to his bed, it was simple but he hadn't done it. Instead he told her to go to 'her' bed after he fucked her. Instead he had listened to her whimpering and soft crying as she was tormented by what he assumed to be nightmares almost every night.

Horrible. He was a horrible excuse for an Alpha. As much as he hated to admit it Tsuru was right, Y/n wasn't a slave, she had been for a long time but she wasn't anymore. Nor was she one of his officers to be bossed around. No. Starting tonight he would do better. He would be better, if only for her.

Opening his eyes he pushed his boxers off and stepped into the steaming water. Holding her to him as he settled down he felt her startle but started purring again and rubbed her back once he was sat down. Rubbing his hand over her back and shoulders he could practically feel the knots and tenseness in her muscles. Adding a bit of pressure he worked out the soreness there as best he could. It was his fault her body was like this in the first place, without her alpha there to help her through her heat, an omega's most vulnerable time she had become tense, her muscles cramping. It most certainly didn't help that she had scrunched up in that small closet where she had chosen to make her nest. He didn't know why she had chosen the closet of all places but he would get it out of her eventually.

Massaging her body as best he coudl in the tub he kept the water at a warm temperature for a long while, enjoying this closeness. Gently washing her scratch covered body and then her hair he rinsed her off. Taking a moment more to look down at her his eyes traveled her nude body. Looking to her pert nipples he felt his mouth water a bit and his cock throb between his legs but restrained himself for the time being. She was in no way shape or form ready for that right now. Gritting his teeth he stood and stepped out to wrap her small body in one of his large towels. Drying her off he grabbed one of his t shirts and managed to shuffle her into it before laying her in his large bed. Tugging the covers up over her he moved to take a shower himself but felt her hand attempt to grab at his arm, another soft whimper coming from her.

"sa..ka..."

Freezing he stared down at her and blinked. Had she? She had said his name... well not his full name but close enough. She had never called him by name before. Feeling a warmth in his chest he took a breath. Licking his lips he took her seemingly tiny hand into his and pulled it away from his arm. Gently laying it on her chest he bent down to kiss her forehead softly. "I'll be back." he promised her in a low, deep voice. "Sleep my omega." As she drifted back off he stood and eased his fingers out from her hand so he could go take a quick shower.

Pulling on a pair of boxers he moved into the bed beside her. Going to move his pillow under his head he remembered they had been used in her nest and sighed. Glancing down to her he bent his arm to lay under his head while the other wrapped around her, holding her in his side. As he got comfortable on his back he stilled when he heard a sniffling sound. Looking down to her he saw her nose smelling by his ribs for a moment. When his female gave one final sniff and then sighed, her body snuggling up as close as possible to his he couldn't stop the grin on his lips. Laying his head back he closed his eyes.

...........................

Waking up with a groan you forced your heavy eyes open but were surprised when you realized you were in his room. Slowly turning over you thought he might be there but he wasn't. You should have figured as much. How had you even gotten in here? Everything was all fuzzy. Last thing you remembered was taking a shower. You had came in here to grab some clothes and then that was it. Looking down you saw you were dressed in one of his shirts. You had put on his shirt? Furrowing your brows you slowly pushed yourself up to sit but winced at the horrible feeling in your body. You were so stiff. Drained even. Still you stood, he wouldn't want you in here, in his bed. Turning around to make it you furrowed your brows when you saw his pillows gone. Checking the floor you didn't see them. Blinking you moved to the dresser and pulled on a pair of the black loose fitting pants and the plain shirt, leaving your bra off for now. As you moved your hair out from the neck of your shirt you knit your brows at the damp feeling of it. Sniffling the lock you tilted your head, why did it smell like him? What the... why were there scratches on your arms?

Thinking as you made your way out of the room you tried to process the in and out memories flashing through your head. Pain, an aching need. Seeing a plate on the table with an omelet on it along with a cup of what looked like juice you blinked. Continuing to stand there for a moment you just about jumped out of your skin when a deep voice spoke.

"You should eat."

Snapping your eyes to the owner of the voice you saw him standing there and stiffened a bit. You didn't know he was home. All too soon your mind was asking a dozen questions. When did he get back? What time was it? Did he know you were in his bed? Did he put you in his bed?

Seeing her just standing there, frozen in place he took a slow breath and made the few steps over to her. Lifting one of his hands he saw her stiffen and halted his movements before slowly moving to stroke his claiming mark. He watched her eyes flutter close at the gentle touch but said nothing. Pulling away after a moment he saw her eyes open and look up to him, confusion evident in them. "Eat."

Watching him walk away after speaking the low word you blinked. He went out the door to the garden, a bag of something tossed across one shoulder. Looking back to the table you felt your stomach growl and walked over to sit down. Realizing this was a plate from here you furrowed your brows a bit and looked back towards the door, had he cooked... for you? This was all beginning to be too much and you wondered if you were dreaming. Slowly eating the omelet and drinking the juice you heard only the smallest noise from outside but nothing else. As soon as you finished you took your plate to the sink to wash it. Placing in the drying rack you quietly walked over to the door and peaked outside to see him... digging? Blinking you bit the inside of your lip as you thought on wither you should go outside or not, you didn't want to bother him again. Glancing back to the house you knit your brows, there wasn't much to do inside, you had already cleaned every surface a hundred times.

Sensing his female he continued digging but after a few moments of her not coming out he took a deep breath, don't be demanding he told himself. "You should come outside, it is a nice day."

Sucking in a breath at hearing him address you, you swallowed hard and kept your head down as you stepped out onto the deck. Moving closer to him slowly just incase he changed his mind or snapped at you, you got to the end of the deck and raised your eyes some to looked to what he was doing. When he didn't do either of the two things you were expecting you felt your body relax a little... a very little. Seeing a bag of pebble rock along with a few larger rocks you tilted your head.

She still hadn't said a word but she had at least gotten closer to him on her own. Glancing back to her out of the corner of his eye he saw her looking over the things he had bought. "It's for the pond."

Blinking as he spoke again, his voice unusually calm sounding you looked up to him and then down to where he was digging. Licking your lips you opened and closed your mouth, unsure of yourself. Closing your eyes you chanced a glance back to him. "W..would you like some help?"

Stopping he turned towards her and saw her quickly look down. She was so skittish around him now.

"... While omegas are generally obedient and quiet, Y/n is not. It would no doubt be a turn off for most alphas but I will go as far to say that that was what drew you to her in the first place... You like the fire in her, don't you Sakakzuki..."

Yet again Tsuru proved to be correct. It confused him to no end but he missed the challenging side to his mate. He missed the way she wouldn't back down, how she would fight her nature to submit to him. He only hoped he would be able to fix what he had done. "I only have one shovel." he told her and saw her shoulders fall a little. "But once I'm done with this I have to go get some plants and such, you can come with me, if you would like."

Shocked by this you looked to his face to see if he was just playing some sort of trick but you couldn't make out any joke on his face. Nodding you saw him grin the tiniest amount before he went back to digging. It didn't take him long to finish up and soon the both of you were walking towards the door. Furrowing your brows and tilting your head a bit at the different looking door you glanced up to him as he came up beside you.

Seeing her look to him in question he sighed. "I forgot my key." was all he said but she didn't ask anything about it only nodded. Going to leave he looked down to her bare feet and knit his brows. "Where are you shoes?"

Dropping your eyes to your feet you licked your lips, glancing up to him from under your lashes for a moment. "I..I don't have any."

Oh. Clearing his throat he brushed his hair back and put on his hat. "Then we'll just have to fix that while we are out." Holding out his hand for her to take as the other grabbed the knob he saw her hesitate for a moment.

Staring at his large hand for a few seconds you saw him go to pull it away but reached up to place your smaller hand in his. It never ceased to amaze you how hot his hands were. Looking up to his eyes you saw him relaxed looking before he shook his head slightly and opened the door.

#One Piece Fanfiction #sakazuki #sakazuki one piece #sakazuki x reader #akainu #one piece akainu #akainu x reader #Alpha x Omega #alpha beta omega #alpha akainu x omega reader #alpha sakazuki #triggering content #feedback would be appreciated

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ignisnocturnalia · 3 years

Text

Hehehe I lied, but it is here now! Had a crisis about being done with my Band director's bull and wanting a grade on something really bad, did the former and decided to simply disintegrate once Friday hit. Drifter HCs will follow this, also may I say Caiatl. That is all.

Nokris x Reader

“You are a child reaching for a flame; the Taken Queen would not have you burnt.”

You were on point during the Strange Terrain strike, but you had never thought you would run into Nokris again. Granted, you realized, his death was on the physical plain while his Throne World still stood. Considering he never directly addressed you, you assumed that he either didn’t remember you or he chose not to, as oddly disappointing as that would be. The timbre of his voice unsettled you, but it was not as wracking as Xol’s; in fact, it was rather pleasing to hear.

The proposition itself was unexpected, and against Eris’s previous warnings you stopped to listen to what the Hive heretic had to say. Trekking quietly along the broken path of the distorted realm, you stopped occasionally to stare at blights littered over walls and floating in the air to see if you could catch a glimpse of the desecrated prince. The telltale sign of Taken emerging from their portals filled the air, and you genuinely prayed that you’re next decision was a wise one.

Your ghost was probably screaming on the inside as you placed your guns to the floor, bringing your hands into the air while staring into the gleaming eye of a Knight. Grabbing your arm roughly, it tugged you through a massive doorway leading to a room that was strikingly similar to the Court of Oryx back at the Dreadnaught. The portal at the center of the room shimmered invitingly as the bony bastard himself came out; even in death, he appeared to be in his prime.

“I see you have heeded my advice; come, hope of the Light, see the Darkness.”

His claws are cold as he grasps at your shoulders despite the solar flame surging over his arms. Feeling bold, you let your own solar light extend past your body, lying comfortably across his neck with a warm glow. As a creature who worships the Darkness facing a servant of the Light, he reasonably withdraws with a hiss at your gesture

You won’t say it out loud because he obviously carries himself with extreme pride, but you can’t help but feel bad for him. How can one person be an exiled son, heretic, servant, and now puppet?

“I won’t serve Savathûn. But I think I wouldn't mind spending time with you.” Before he can question you, you are promptly pulled from the realm by Eris.

Cue Vanguard interrogation once you return to the Tower. The talk is so egregiously long you make a move that would make Cayde damn proud: “GuArDiAn, We’Re NoT yEt FiNiShEd WiTh ThIs DiScUsSiOn!” Hopefully your shining reputation will save you from any dire repercussions...

Tracing your steps back to where you first met, you look around suspiciously following the lack of noise inside the Hive breeding grounds. You had cut your comm ages ago, the constant ping of Commander Zavala’s hailing grating your ears. The ground beneath your feet crunched wetly with every step, and distantly you heard the first Hive screech. Turning in a guess to the source of the sound, you set off in a quick pace, gun in your hand.

Upon entering a new chamber, you froze in surprise as you saw Nokris lifting a Knight by the throat. Taken magic pooled in his palm and raced over the armor of the smaller Hive, the bone turning black and a bright white glow shimmering across its legs. Still gripping the soldier, Nokris slowly angled his head to look down at you.

“Little. Light.” Dropping the Knight with no grace, his imposing form closed in on you with haste. Before you could take a step back, his claws came up to close around your jaw and upper neck. The rough of his talons dug into your armor, and for a moment you worried he would pop off your helmet and let your blood boil throughout your body in the harsh atmosphere. Instead, he pulled you closer to his face and brought up his free hand to grasp your forearm.

Nokris easily dwarfed you; even if you stood on your own shoulders you wouldn’t be taller than him. Passively, your thighs rubbed against each other at the realization. A detail he decided he would catch. Teasing mirth danced in his three eyes, hidden malice swimming just behind small organs. Internally, you were probably going to pop your helmet off yourself if you got kink shamed by a Hive prince of all things.

You squeaked quietly in surprise as he lifted you off the ground, the hand on your lower face readjusting to your hip. His hand, quite literally, engulfed your midsection as he brought you closer to him for inspection. This close, you could see every imperfection on his face. Second hand leaving your arm, you shivered as the prince ran a digit up the side of your leg and continued his way up, stopping thoughtfully at the junction of your jaw.

Staring into the glowing green embers of his eyes, there was no mistaking the murderous glint in them. At the same time, curiosity had made its home among his more dangerous faculties.

"You found me once, you came to me twice. Find me again, at the other side in the field of ash under the dark tower.” Letting you to the floor, Nokris turned his back and departed to Traveler knows where through the portal with the long forgotten Knight. Sinking to your knees in stunned silence, you looked down as a nearly imperceptible squeal broke the quiet. In front of you, was a Hive worm.

“No.” Before you could even speak, your Ghost gave its earful.

“I can’t not take it! I probably need it to find him. Either way, I told you one of these worms would be coming home eventually, look at its wittle face.” Your Ghost made gagging noises as you fawned over the wriggling creature you held between your hands. Tucking the three eyed larva under your arm, you set out to find the way back out.

____________________________________________

The next week felt like hell. The worm continued to get bigger with every mission you went on and keeping it a secret from the Vanguard was close to impossible. You had been wracking your brain for the answer to his riddle, and to be completely honest, it made you feel inadequate that you couldn’t figure it out. You knew the other side meant the Ascendant Realm, but what was the dark tower? Where was the field of ash? You had initially thought it was at Skywatch, what with the Hive ship jutting out of the ground and the small pile of chitin inside the cave not too far away, but there wasn’t enough ash for it to be a field, nor was it under the ship point.

It wasn’t until a light snow dusted the Tower one evening that it all clicked. He didn’t mean ash ash. He meant snow!

In a rush to the hangar, you waved a hasty goodbye to Holliday and transmatted into your ship, pulling out a layer of blankets to reveal your now cat sized worm. The grub squeed and reached its head up to your palm, crawling sluggishly into your hands. Holding the worm to your chest, you settled down in the pilot ship and gave your Ghost to plot a course. There was only one place on Earth constantly coated in snow with a structure that could be considered a dark tower.

“Ghost, set course for the Plaguelands. He’s at the Doomed Sea.”

You hadn’t been to the ravaged lands since the Siva Crisis; the whole territory gave you heebie jeebies. And yet, you were returning because one of humanity’s imminent threats wanted a chat that, realistically, ended with your head rolling on the floor.

The closer you got to your destination, the more restless the worm in your arms got. In fact, you could swear it was whispering something. Your skin crawled for a moment as you felt the phantom brush of his claw up your leg.

The moment your feet touched the ground, the world around you stuttered as the colors faded into grayscale, giving way to the Ascendant landscape. Below you, there was no mistaking the keen whispers of the worm. Its words were encouraging in a macabre way, praise and blatant lies; speaking of how well you fed it, talents being wasted on a god that heeds you not, urging you towards the ominous building looming over the shoreline.

Dust swept across at a rapid pace, as usual, in the warped realm. Coming up to the alcove, you saw him with his back turned to you. In a smooth turn, he faced you at last. Beautiful, blazing emeralds.

Relationship HCs

His idea of a relationship has wildly different parameters than any normal human would put up with

No matter where you are, or what you're doing, you can feel him at the back of your mind like a fog; it's a bit disconcerting to hear him talk in your head at first, but it becomes normal and he's actually quite helpful when you're out on missions

He expects you to help him study thanatonautics since you can die and be brought back within moments, but that's up to if you have enough charisma to convince your Ghost to let your bone boyfriend crush your skull repeatedly to see what you can learn about death

The relationship feels more like a symbiotic one rather than a romantic one, but you occassionally catch him practicing human gestures you've seen couples perform in public if he's feeling particularly good on a day

You're probably the only person who listens to him talk about all of his schtick and is able to give viable feedback; he is more thankful than he will let on about this fact

He does not like it when you try blocking him off from your thoughts and will demand to know everything you've done in the day when you see him again. In his perspective, he thinks you're trying to leave him behind like everyone else has

Will not handhold, because his hand can literally fit around your torso and because he thinks it's weird. He will, however, carry you places if you're going the same direction

He also thinks kissing is weird, but will (surprisingly!) actually let you give him kisses on his teeth; the sensation of soft flesh on his cold bones is unusual, but something he finds utterly riveting. Not that he'd let you know

Also doesn't like the amount of straight barbarity you inflict on the battlefield, but can appreciate your efficiency with your job; this is him silently worrying about your safety but refusing to acknowledge his crush on the flame throwing ape

His communication regarding affection is terrible, and if you couldn't tell shame on you. His favorite thing about you, that you will never hear from him or anyone else, is your face. He likes the way it changes into different expressions, the life in your eyes, and your lips because Hive physically cannot emote as expressively as humans do; you are an open book he has yet to read, adding new pages everyday

Nsfw 👁👄👁

First off, however you get the size difference to work, congratulations. His height over you is something he enjoys immensely when you two get into it, and it goes without saying he also likes how you "hug" him

He will fuck anywhere, literally anywhere. The floor? Yes. Against the wall? Yes. Hope you're somewhat of an exhibitionist, because he is not ashamed if any of his or Savathûn's troops walk in on you and will keep going

He bites a lot, and is not afraid to make you bleed because your Ghost can just patch you right up

Likewise, he will scratch you everywhere but he does stop to play with the softer spots

He is rough and fast, going after his own release rather than yours; however, he has high stamina so chances are you'll be overstimulated before he finishes

Absolutely a dom, he will not meet in the middle about anything of sexual nature

If you don't actively fight for your life during his build up, he will take that as the go ahead. He may be a Hive heretic, but he has standards

You don't really have the opportunity to find his sensitive spots as he usually restrains your arms, holding them above your head or pinning them down at your sides

He rarely makes actual noises, but he does hiss lowly whenever he makes particularly hard thrusts

He knows that copulation won't result in little Hive/Human hybrids running around with his blood in their veins, so 9 times out of 10 he will hilt himself and come inside you

Fluff

Uhhh, a w k w a r d

Anything that's fluffy is strictly delivered by you, and occasionally returned by Nokris since he doesn't get the point of such pleasantries

If you're fast enough, he will never get upset if you can sneak up on him for a smooch

Whatever he is doing, if you are available he much prefers having you by his side to have an extra set of eyes to help him observe (at least that's what he says)

Since his physical marks are healed quickly, he gifts you odds and ends from old planets his people have pillaged and little items you can wear on noticeable places

Hides it very well, but is extremely thrilled when you come to him when you want to do or learn something new

When you're particularly frustrated by something, he will comb his claws through your hair to his best abilities

Whenever you're with him, his demeanor is typically calmer; Savathûn's presence and influence over him is highly diminished in the face of your Light

The one thing he will willingly do with you that's remotely romantic is stargazing; not because of the romantic element, oh no, but because he wants to catalogue any changes and is very invested in teaching you about space faring

Has nicknames for you like Little Light or >Insert any game seal<

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #nokris #nokris x reader #eris morn #oryx the taken king #commander zavala #savathûn

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lastxviolet · 3 years

Text

The Assistant - CH. 1

Description: Summary - Her sixth year at Hogwarts was supposed to be relatively peaceful but after an incident on the Hogwarts express, Violet Wilkes finds herself the newest target of the Weasley twins. This, combined with a dark family secret, and the Triwizard tournament, makes her first few months back more exciting and stressful than every year before.

pairing: George Weasley x Original Female Character

warnings: pg-13. slow burn, eventual smut hehe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218804/chapters/69148695

The Dark Mark.

Cloaked figures running, burning, torturing.

The threat of a second war.

Screaming.

A sharp train whistle brought Violet Wilkes back into her body on Platform 9 ¾, its sound tearing her mind away from the horrifying morning news in the Daily Prophet just last week. The moving pictures on the papers front page had barely left her thoughts, even now, as she was steps away from saying goodbye to her family for nearly a year, the dark mark burned behind her eyelids with every blink.

She walked ahead of her parents and little sister, weaving through the crowd of fawning mothers and sniffling siblings, towards the very last car in the line, dreading the long journey ahead more and more with every step.

For the past five years, she had seriously considered not returning to Hogwarts, solely because of the egregious train ride from London, and this year was no different, except for the pit in her stomach from the thought of noise, people, and confined space was joined by the fear of her family's hypothetical imminent doom at the hands of Death Eaters. Despite the fact that no one else shared her fears.

She'd told them all week that the events at the Quidditch World Cup weren't a fluke. No one conjured the most fearsome symbol in their world nearly thirteen years after its disappearance, by accident. It meant something.

A terrible something.

And now, she was leaving them. Defenseless.

Her father hadn't picked up his wand in nearly a decade, and her mother had no magical abilities to speak of. Her sister, Olivia, would surely be a powerful witch in the coming years but for now, she remained a timid ten-year-old. They hardly stood a chance without her. That was if the events last week were as dire and fearsome as she believed them to be.

Of all people, she thought her father would understand her worry but he insisted that it wasn't going to be like 'last time.' Even then, she'd made him swear that he would brush up on his spells and hexes just in case you-know-who had returned and picked up where he'd left off, targeting blood traitors and their families.

The train whistle cut through the commotion again and they sped up to make the 11:00 departure. She glanced down at her watch; 10:58.

If they hurried, she'd make it. But if they didn't, the train would mosey on without her. Not that she'd mind.

She looked around at her fellow hustling peers pouring into the train and exhaled sharply. What if she just stopped? Dropped to her knees and refused to move. Missed the train and begged her father to let her go to a muggle school as her mother had. Her fingers gripped the iron handrail in the vestibule of the final car, and she hesitated, ready to throw herself back onto the platform but deep down, she knew it was already too late. There was no avoiding the journey ahead.

Her sister launched into her arms, squeezing tight before her mother's arms replaced them around her neck. She kissed her father's cheek last, lingering on his kind, dark blue eyes, staring at their own mirrored pupils in her head. He pressed one more kiss onto her forehead before stepping back to wrap his arms around the other halves of her heart.

A blood-traitor.

How could anyone call him a blood traitor?

Easy, she thought. It was the same way her housemates called her a half-blood. With condescending smirks and dead eyes.

She turned to enter the car so they couldn't see the tear falling down her cheek and rushed to wipe it away before she came back into view through the last window.

Her sister called out a final time when the train began to slowly move away and a wave of dread constricted her lungs. The sound was too similar to the screams she heard in her nightmares nearly every night. Fog from her breath on the window obscured the final visible moments of her family's smiling faces and wildly waving arms as the platform disappeared from view.

11:00. As one torturous moment ended, another, 8-hour-long one, began. The ruckus of running feet, excited hello's, and sporadic spell work was instantaneous and completely impossible to ignore. She closed her eyes and tried to tune it out.

She couldn't conceive why a wizarding school would trust their unsupervised adolescent students to not blow each other up when muggle schools barely trusted their docile coeds to use the bathroom alone. Other people's happiness didn't normally give her such a headache but the lack of professor supervision provided no perimeters on her peer's ability to run amuck.

She felt her stomach flip with the swaying movement. Bile burned her throat, as the seat underneath her moved back and forth, rocking in a nauseating pattern. The noise, in combination with the repetitive piercing whistle and lurching wheels thudding through London, was dizzying.

Distraction. She needed a distraction.

Calloused leather brushed her hip, reminding her that she'd anticipated this very moment. She thanked her past self profusely and dug through the bag until the pebbly fabric of her favorite muggle book scratched her fingertips.

The deep blue hardcover still precariously clung to its title even after years of wear and tear, reading and rereading. She caressed the carved gold words with a shaky, anxious finger.

The Princess Bride

By William Goldman

It was a pity that the Hogwarts library didn't cater to muggle-born students, she thought. Even in Muggle Studies class, assigned readings were books about muggles, written by the magical beings that walked among them. Wizard writers were wonderful but their ability to write compelling fiction was limited when they can do the unthinkable with the mindless flick of a wand.

She flipped it open and paused to admire her mother's swirly signature on the dedication page before turning to the first chapter.

"I've been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn't listen. Every time you said 'Farm Boy do this' you thought I was answering 'As you wish' but that's only because you were hearing wrong. 'I love you' was what it was, but you never heard, and you never heard."

"I hear you now, and I promise you this: I will never love anyone else. Only Westley. Until I die."

Eventually, the disorienting blur of houses, trees, and cars ceased— replaced by much more appealing, rolling hills and sprawling fields. The speed of the train was barely discernible as the scenery outside the window moved in slow motion, barely changing, monotonous and still, a comfort to her dizzy head.

She glanced towards the glass doors that were protecting her from the chaos throughout the halls and determined that the motion sickness and general discomfort had been suppressed. She took a deep breath and weighed the options for the second half of the trip. Stay, and finish the beloved book that lay open in her lap, or leave, and trade all peace for conversation.

Alone, but also lonely.

She'd probably missed loads of drama on the first half of the ride, and Sadie would surely be furious with her for being absent.

Sadie Baldock had plopped down next to her at the Slytherin table one random morning during her second week at Hogwarts. Happy to have some company, she'd let the energetic girl talk her ear off for the entire meal, not once interrupting or telling her to shut up, even though it would've been warranted. They'd been best friends ever since and she'd been an absolute treasure for the entirety of their past five years.

Despite Sadies strong personality and pension for gossip, she understood and accepted that Violet had no desire to be attached at the hip to anyone and gladly gave her space.

Alone and lonely, was much better than being suffocated, she thought. This had been her preference, even before she arrived at Hogwarts, and was sorted into Slytherin, her supposed 'family' away from home.

She scoffed and shook her head.

Family, yeah right.

Other houses might consider themselves family. Hers, however, felt more like a cage.

Families weren't supposed to be judgmental, at least not to the degree that her peers were. Families didn't shun disgraced peers for impure bloodlines or enforce generational loyalty without question. In recent years, the house had shed any sense of camaraderie left, even between those with pure-blood and ancient ties.

Due to this, tensions ran high and tempers were like time-bombs. It was exhausting to bite her tongue enough to remain cordial with most of the somewhat sane peers in her house and fly under the radar of the rest. She clenched her jaw, remembering Draco Malfoy and crew taunting her half-blood status and muggle mother.

Exhausting, but necessary, for self-preservation and peaceful existence. She occasionally betrayed herself with a viper-quick temper that was always simmering in her chest but most took it for stereotypical Slytherin nastiness, and not a haunting disdain for those who shared her green and silver uniform. This, a knack for potions and a morbidly dark wardrobe were perhaps the only evidence of a correct sorting.

Oh well, she thought. It was a bit late in her career to be considering a house change, besides, the sorting hat was a sod old brute who insisted that he was never wrong.

In actuality though, it wasn't all terrible. At least she had Sadie and the few other perks that came with the snake emblem.

The dungeons provided cool darkness that deprived the senses of any reason for restlessness and anxiety. Although the green uniform occasionally invited disapproving glances, it complimented her dark blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair much better than the blue and white of Ravenclaw, or heaven forbid the bright red Gryffindor insignia. And, she was only a few feet away from the potions classroom, where she'd managed to instate herself as one of the only students their head of house, Professor Severus Snape, did not actively hate. The bond had been painstakingly cultivated over the years the only that way he would allow; speaking when spoken to, correct answers, and perfect potions.

She stared out the window, focusing on the rolling hills, trying to let go of the gnawing feeling in the back of her mind that couldn't help but wonder if the hat had gotten it wrong.

Introspection was one of her biggest flaws. Sadie was constantly telling her to get out of her head and she knew that she was right. But, analysis always felt necessary, even about moments and emotions long gone. Sorting through every feeling, decision, movement; double-checking every second to make sure they were all accounted for, was compulsory.

Even now, six years later, she wondered whether she even truly belonged in Slytherin, and whether or not being sorted into the other houses would've been easier or even different at all. Would it have been better to be sorted into her father's Hufflepuff house?

Maybe, but unfortunately, when considering where to place her, the sorting hat had ignored her father and zeroed in on the countless other Wilkes before him, all in Slytherin, before deciding that she would be forced to pick up the lineage again. Not that any of them would ever know, or care.

She felt a shiver down her spine.

It was for the best that they hadn't any idea of her existence, let alone the continuation of their legacy.

She squeezed her eyes closed and the beautiful scenery outside dissolved into the Dark Mark behind her lids and the memory of photos she'd secretly found amongst her father's old school things. Photos of a boy, a few years older than her father, clad in green standing next to his younger brother in yellow and black.

A legacy, broken. A legacy, reborn.

She felt her heartbeat quicken and tried desperately to conjure the image of her sister, next year, with the sorting hat on her head, yelling any other house's name.

Screams from the next train car over tore her away from her thoughts. She jumped slightly and shook her head, glad for a distraction from the oncoming downward spiral. She'd forgotten where she was for a moment but another chorus of "no's" and laughter bursting through the door at the front of the cabin pulled her back to reality.

Pushing the doors apart slightly, she poked her head into the hall and moved to step out but voices stopped her. Loud, obnoxious, exuberant voices yelled something about "research" to an amused audience.

The Weasley twins.

Maybe the imminent doom she'd been worrying about wouldn't come at the hands of Death Eaters at all, but two idiotic and insufferable redheads instead.

She searched for an escape, eyes moving frantically, but her only option seemed to be a jump from the back door and onto the tracks below. Why hadn't she left to find Sadie when she'd had the chance?

Rolling her eyes as far back into her head as they would go, she sunk back down onto the bench and held her breath, hoping to miraculously turn invisible before the twins could sour her mood further.

"C'mon George, one last try," a voice belonging to Fred Weasley yelled over the last wave of students laughing and telling the twins to get lost.

She groaned, knowing that they were indeed coming for her. She couldn't think of a single time during her years at Hogwarts when she'd enjoyed the terroristic Weasley antics, but this moment was particularly ill-timed. Their talents for pranking were legendary and despite being in the same year, she'd never been a target or victim. But, it seemed as though her time had come.

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to find a single positive about the cursed situation. The nerves twisted her stomach into a knot while she listened to nearing footsteps. Maybe, if she played along and let them get it out of their system, they would leave quicker, and get back to ignoring her.

Another couple of torturous seconds crawled by before the twin who she thought might be George yanked open the cabin door.

She forced herself to breathe and tilted her head to meet them with a perturbed expression glued to her face; brows furrowed, lips pursed, and arms crossed. Every Slytherin instinct whispered in her ear to hex them back to London but the exhaustion from her emotional goodbye a few hours ago overwhelmed any anger left, resigning her to accept this fate without much of a fight.

"Well hello, Violet. Today is your lucky day."

She was right, the one coming in first was George Weasley. She recognized the two moles on the left side of his neck from Herbology last year when she'd fantasized about slashing his jugular when he wouldn't shut up.

He moved her feet from the bench opposite her, and she stared at him, noting that his slightly crooked nose also distinguished him from the brother coming in second. Once seated, they stared at her with intense brown eyes, and eager slack-jaw smiles —incredibly sharp features exaggerated by flowing radioactive red hair, waiting for an answer.

"Is that so?" she growled, conjuring a deadpan stare.

The twins straightened their chests and leaned forward simultaneously. "Yes, indeed," Fred said, the excitement in his face and voice completely unaffected by her cold response. "And we'll tell you why. George?"

"For a limited time only, you have the incredible opportunity to join us on an intellectual exploration," George explained. She shot him a disapproving glance before shifting back to Fred who was nodding fervently at his brother's side. "Groundbreaking research," he added, sensing her apprehension.

"I've never exactly thought of you two as intellectual," she sneered.

"Been thinking about us though?" George teased.

She cursed herself for the blush that formed instantly and shifted her gaze back to Fred who was still waiting anxiously to explain the situation.

"All you need to do is eat this delicious toffee," Fred said, producing a brown lump from his robe.

He shoved it towards her and unsuccessfully tried to hide the mischievous glint in his eye with a sweet smile.

She glared at him, remaining silent, unsure of what to say next. What were they trying to pull? And why did they think that she was going to fall for it this easily? Did they think she was stupid?

She narrowed her eyes and tried to ignore her bruised dignity. "You're joking," she drawled, earning fake looks of concern from both of the twins. "What makes you think I'm going to fall for that?"

Fred's long red hair covered his face slightly as he shook his head. "See this is where everyone keeps misunderstanding us, George."

George leaned across the small space between them. "Indeed Fred —Violet darling, clearly our offer is much too transparent to be a prank," he said, now a little too close for comfort. "This is product research for our business so please try and take it seriously."

She scowled at the pet name and leaned away. Why was he being so familiar with her?

Gryffindors. Always too friendly to be trusted. At least her fellow Slytherins never tried to hide their agenda, no matter how much their bluntness stung.

It was difficult to gauge how to best get rid of them. Their puppy dog eyes didn't seem to be affected by rudeness, if anything, it seemed to egg them on further. She decided to try another route instead, hoping to catch them off guard.

"Fine. In the spirit of transparency, say that I do eat it," she said. "What will happen to me?"

Their coy confidence turned to surprise. "It's only ever been tested on a Muggle so we have no clue," George confessed matter-o-factly. "Hence it being such a great research opportunity."

"You'd be a pioneer," Fred finished, a stupid confident grin returning to his face. "Maybe even a legend."

Violet looked down at Fred's outstretched arm and plucked the brown ball from his hand. She stared at it skeptically and brought it up to her nose. It smelled just like normal toffee, but no way it was that simple.

The twins exchanged a nervous glance and she could tell that they were holding their breath.

They most likely doubted her ability to take a joke and were probably nervous about the outcome of their prank, if she did indeed fall for it.

She couldn't blame them, of course. Last year, Blaise Zabini, one of Malfoy's toadies, joked about her mother being a muggle during the Halloween feast, and nearly the whole school had witnessed her merciless rebuttal. She stifled a smile, remembering the look on his face when she'd stuck her wand in his mouth and said "Langlock." His friends had scrambled and scratched to open his mouth again and Madam Pomfrey had about reached her wits end trying to figure out how to separate his tongue from the roof of his mouth. She wondered if they'd been there for that, but the sudden hesitation in George's smile told her they were well aware of her short fuse.

Lucky for them though, she didn't have enough energy to fly off the handle today.

She slipped her wand out of her bag and touched the tip to the toffee, muttering a revealing charm. "Specialis Revelio."

The twins lunged forward to snatch their sweet back, but she was quicker.

"An engorgement charm?"

"That's cheating," Fred protested.

"What is this?"

They stared at her with a mixture of defeat and annoyance.

"It's a ton-tongue-toffee," George said grimly. "The newest product from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

She remembered him talking about his plans for a joke shop constantly in Herbology, while his gaggle of admiring Gryffindors hung onto every word but she never thought he could be serious about such a stupid career endeavor.

She frowned. "That's idiotic."

"That's the whole point," Fred snapped. "It would've been funny if you hadn't taken the easy way out."

"What would have been funny?" she countered, relishing in their sudden mood shift from smug to perturbed. "Me casting a counter-charm as soon as I felt my tongue swelling? I thought you two were supposed to be good at pranks."

She tried to hide her delight at the ability to get under their skin. Their presence was unwelcome but not as completely intolerable as she had expected, even as their cheerful nature and goofy grins faded, they were almost bearable.

Suddenly, she saw something dark shift over George's gaze. "Well then eat it, if you're so sure."

Violet's eyes widened, unprepared for the confident challenge. Irritation moved swiftly through her chest. She tried to hide her nerves and glanced down at the ball in her hand. It would be easier to tell them to leave, or even get up and walk away but she couldn't let a Weasley best her.

If living inside of her head was her first flaw, then pride was her second.

Her eyes bore holes into George's, and regardless of what happened next, his look of shock was prize enough as she popped the lump into her mouth. The toffee was a little warm and soft but not inedible, she wondered if their mother had made it.

Her mouth was fuzzy before she even swallowed, and as she had suspected, her tongue began to swell profusely. She poked the tip of her wand to her tongue as it flopped out of her mouth, nearly reaching twice its size.

"Reducio."

The twin's mouths dropped open in shock before they exchanged a curious glance. Even though the counter-charm came out with a slight lisp, as quick as it had happened, her mouth closed around her normal-sized tongue, the caramel-like taste of toffee on her lips all that remained of the prank.

She broke her staring contest with George and glanced back to Fred, but neither looked like they were going to say anything.

Arrogance replaced her irritation and she just couldn't hold back.

"Had you not thought of that?" She asked with a smug smile. "I hope none of your other products are so easily reversible. Who would want to buy something so temporary? Faulty merchandise is hardly a way to run a business."

They both stared at her in displeasure, but George looked more enraged than anything, not that she cared about hurting his feelings. This was turning out to be quite fun, she thought.

"Well, you've been a lovely assistant," Fred said, trying to quell the tension and clearly over the situation. "C'mon Georgie, finding someone less capable than Wilkes will be a snap."

George didn't budge. He just stared back at her, his brow furrowed, like he couldn't remember her name anymore. The thoughtful expression was freaking her out. She waited for him to return to the annoying ginger twat who had entered her cabin without permission but his expression didn't change.

His eyes searched hers for something but she couldn't tell what. She chanted 'fuck off' in her head, hoping that he could see the sentiment reflected in her eyes.

How odd, looking at them now, they weren't identical at all. While Fred seemed to operate as their crazy motor, George was something else…steering wheel maybe? Regardless, she was glad their exchange was coming to an end.

"What would you suggest then?" George inquired with a sneer, standing up to follow his brother out the door. "Since you're so smart."

As if she'd help them.

George loomed over her, blocking her view of anything else. She stared up at him defiantly, not letting his size intimidate her. The question lingered in the thick air between them, ringing in her ears over and over. Surprisingly, she did indeed have an answer to his inquiry, not that she was going to say anything. They didn't deserve her help, even if she could mask it as superiority. She waited for him to leave but he seemed just as content sitting in their tension as she was.

He smirked and that threw her over the edge.

Besting him in his expertise would be a satisfying final nail in the coffin and he'd asked for it. She didn't mind him this way, begging her to intellectually best him.

"Potions," she blurted.

She watched his eyes widen. "What?"

"Potions," she repeated wearily. "If you had used Swelling Solution, it wouldn't have been detectable by a revealing charm and no one would take the time to brew its antidote. Victims would be stuck with a fat tongue until the effects wore off, which, apparently, is funny."

It had meant to sound smug but it came out too much like she was tutoring him in earnest. He looked just as surprised at her tone as she was and stood up a little straighter, before reaching for the door. She glanced down at her hands, aware of his eyes still on her, and cursed the sincerity in her voice, hoping he wouldn't take it seriously or respond.

Thankfully, the door clicked shut and his footsteps disappeared down the hall, without another word. She sighed in relief and stuffed the book back into her bag to finally go find Sadie.

Violet shook the strange interaction with the Weasleys from her head and pushed through, packed train car, after packed train car before reaching the self-anointed 'Slytherin Only' door. Out of all the options on the train, her house had managed to claim the worst one. The tables and benches were much more uncomfortable than the stuffy cabins and the openness of the room made every ride a free-for-all.

The window fogged from her breath for a moment but through the sea of green, black, and silver, she could just make out the short, dark-haired girl she'd been looking for.

She wove through the room, focusing on Sadie's scowling face, at the back table. She followed the witch's death glare to a gaggle of girls surrounding Draco Malfoy across the room, holding up some Quidditch pamphlet that was somehow making them squeal. She pushed through a group of large boys lurking around a few older sixth years and successfully made it the length of the train without anyone trying to speak with her, or leer something hurtful, which was prone to happen.

"I was beginning to wonder if you even got on," Sadie said.

"Please, hold your applause," she responded, thankful to hear her friend's voice after months apart.

Sadie smirked knowingly. "Did you yak?"

Violet sat on the bench across from her. "Nope. Almost threw myself out of the window near Manchester though, when the Weasley twins raided my compartment."

She thought about recounting the entirety of the strange interaction but decided against it, as Sadie already seemed perturbed enough.

"Merlin, those spazzy gits never take a day off. We haven't even started the school year yet," she murmured. "Please tell me you unleashed your wrath on them."

Before she could answer, a chorus of ooh's and ahh's erupted from the show going on at the front table.

"Oi get a room or shut the hell up," Sadie yelled, earning her more than a few dirty looks around the room and an especially sour sneer from Malfoy himself.

"Shove off, Baldock," Malfoy sneered.

Normally, Violet would've laughed but she didn't particularly feel like drawing attention to herself today so she turned to avoid his gaze.

"I swear, those girls should be over that albino twat by now," she scowled, staring daggers into Malfoy's back.

"Not everyone has your refined taste Sades."

Her friend fell silent, gazing towards the blond boy dreamily. "Vi, do you think I could kill him? Snap him like a twig or something?"

She laughed and turned slightly, ensuring that Malfoy's ominous gaze was off of them. "Surely he deserves a more painful death than that."

She shifted in her seat to rest the side of her face against the window and smiled at Sadie's hearty, murderous cackle. The cool glass quelled any queasiness left as she watched the sunset over Scotland, signaling that the ride was almost over. Despite her surroundings and previous disposition, it was quite beautiful.

As she has suspected, Sadie recounted the first couple hours of the ride with impeccable detail. Pansy Parkinson had gotten an unfortunate haircut, Theodore Knott had gotten hotter over the summer, and Malfoy wouldn't shut up about the Quidditch World Cup.

Her mind snapped to the dark mark once again. Of course, the Malfoy's had been in attendance.

"He was there?" she whispered across the table.

"Of course he was. As if his family would miss an opportunity to show off to the whole world," Sadie said rolling her eyes.

"What did he say about it?"

"Just the usual. Father this, ministers box that. Gloating twat."

"Did he say anything about the ending…about the Dark Mark?"

Violet's ears rang.

A forgotten picture she'd stumbled upon in her father's abandoned school photo album flashed in her mind once more. Lucious Malfoy swinging his arm around her uncle, clad in Slytherin robes, a year before the war started. Their smiling faces were unburdened from what was yet to come.

The same Lucious Malfoy who was charged with being a Death Eater, but ultimately exonerated.

Sadie shrugged. "Just that he saw Potter running scared like a little girl," she said plainly before launching into the details of her summer. It was the same every year; she fought with her sisters and mother all summer long, and then cried like a baby while saying goodbye to them on the platform.

Violet attempted to tune her out and glanced at the cruel blonde.

This was the closest she'd been to him in nearly two years. Ever since Lucious had recognized her father on the platform, she'd taken every precaution to dodge him in every meal, class, or school event, in order to avoid the things that he knew about her.

The image of both Malfoy's smiles twitching smugly as Lucious recanted the Wilkes family history to his monstrous son on the train platform flashed in her mind. Her father had ushered the family away, uncaring of the secrets that would follow her to school and unwilling to speak about it.

She knew he knew, and even though he had every opportunity to tell the whole school, he didn't. Or rather, hadn't yet, like she knew he would someday. She could tell that he was waiting for the most opportune time by the way he said half-blood, and blood traitor instead of her name and the way his eyes were always just a little too confident when regarding her. The anticipation and fear seemed to be torture enough, for him. Surely though, it was only a matter of time.

His presence suddenly became too much. The thought of sharing a room with someone so amused by the ridicule of anyone who wasn't of pure-blood made the taste of bile claw up her throat.

"Sades," she interrupted her friend who was still animatedly speaking. "Wanna head back to mine and change?"

The dark-haired witch nodded and chattered on.

She led them both back down the train, breathing freely again among less threatening red, blue, and yellow students. She was relieved to have Sadie rambling at her side, yelling at first years in their way, and shoving leering seventh-year boys back into the cabins.

They finally reached the last car, and suddenly, she felt her breath hitch in her throat. A tall redhead was leaning against the wall outside of her cabin. He was staring down at his shoes and muttering something. She couldn't tell which one it was from this angle but had a hunch.

Two times in one day? She must be cursed.

Her stomach tangled itself once more with nerves. Maybe he'd come back to enact some cruel revenge on her, for thwarting his prank. She gripped Sadies hand a little tighter, thankful to have her as a backup if things went south. The sound of her footsteps made him finally lookup. She wasn't expecting the expressionless look on his face, and suddenly she doubted that he wanted to harm her at all.

Sadie saw him not a second later and pushed past her, letting go of her hand and yelling, "Bothering her once wasn't enough, you back for more Weasley?"

George's calm face suddenly contorted into panic as Sadie shoved past him and into the cabin. Violet didn't move, and stared at him from a few paces away, unsure of what he was doing if not pranking her.

She hadn't noticed his height earlier when they were sitting, but now that she stood in front of him, it was a shock to be eye level with his chest. Concealing her nervousness to the best of her ability, she met his eyes.

"What?" She said deadpan, hoping to convey his unwelcomeness as much as Sadie had.

He furrowed his brow and looked down at the ground for a moment, failing to hide a flustered blush.

"Sorry…erm — I thought I forgot something —talk to you later," he mumbled through a forced smile. The sudden change in demeanor was surprising. His attempt at confidence was oddly manufactured and she saw, for the first time, a glimmer of shyness.

Git. He probably needed his brother for backup.

Before she could say anything, he brushed past her and sped down the hall and out the door.

"What the bloody hell was that," Sadie said, scrunching her nose in annoyance. "Freaks, the lot of them."

Violet's stomach detangled itself and she turned to watch the floppy long hair retreat from view. She nodded in agreement but kept her mouth closed.

#george weasley x original female character #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley smut #dating george weasley

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d0llhousess · 3 years

Text

⇢ fandom: run with the wind (kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru) ⇢ pairing: kiyose haiji x f!reader ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ warning/tags: fluff, overworked!haiji, overworked! reader, mild language (probably like..one cuss word), first date, established relationship, two busy idiots in love

⇢ summary: kiyose haiji is a planner, yet he could never plan around the mishaps that always seemed to happen every time the pair of you would agree to a date night.

⇢ word count: approx 1.6k

⇢ a/n: Welcome to Day 1 guys! I decided our favorite runner was the perfect way to kick off the week, and who doesn’t love Haiji fluff? Technically this is a continuation of this scenario, but it can be read without any knowledge of that post. I hope you guys do enjoy this!

⤆ Back to Week of Fic’s Masterlist

Sometimes life tends to escape you.

It wasn’t rare that you lost track of time, or became so busy with not only school but also your part time job that you were late to events or even forgot them all together. Yet, you made sure to not forget your first date with Kiyose.

It’d been weeks since he’d confessed to you, a moment you held close to your heart, and even though the two of you knew the status of your relationship, there was just no time for the pair of you to have a proper first date.

He was the team parent, often overworking himself to near death by taking care of his friends and teammates, and you were in your busiest year of university. So when he texted you in the early morning of one of your few days off, informing you to come to his dorms in casual clothing during the evening, you made sure that you were on time.

Adorned in your favorite pair of jeans that never failed to boost your confidence up another notch, you’d entered the track team dorms and were met with a site that you were certainly not expecting.

Instead of seeing your boyfriend in the foyer of the building, putting on his outside shoes, your sight was filled with a nearly chaotic dorm as most of the boys nearly burst down the only bathroom in the building. Your brows lift in surprise, but before your lips part to ask what on earth was going on, your boyfriend appears at your side.

Your eyes roam over his disheveled appearance, and when you met his forlorn gaze, you knew that your date had been canceled. You tried to not let the disappointment show on your face, yet you couldn’t help the way your shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry, but-” Kiyose began to say, but you shook your head, halting the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. A soft smile spread onto your lips and you give him a knowing look.

“Stomach bug?” You guessed, hands smoothing a stray strand of your hair behind your ears.

Kiyose shook his head, “Food poisoning. The twins attempted to cook.”

Soft laughter falls from your lips and you nod, understanding the slight severity of the situation. You meet Kiyose’s warm gaze once again, noticing the slight irritation in his dark gaze, and it puts you at slight ease.

He was just as upset as you were, but you knew that he felt an obligation to take care of his friends. While you didn’t completely understand the man that stood beside you, you knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you felt his lips press against yours that evening in the park.

Stepping closer to you, Kiyose’s lean fingers trailed up the side of your bicep before the rested on the back of your neck. Your senses are filled with the comforting scent of his cologne, and the smirk he’s giving you causes your mouth to dry. The effect he had on you was truly unfair.

A slight shiver travels up your spine, and you watch as his lips spread into the soft smile that made your heart stutter in your chest. His lips brush against your cheek, causing a soft giggle to leave your lips.

“Rain check?” He whispers to you, and you nod, your smile mirroring his. Lifting your head, you place a chaste peck against his lips.

“This is the only rain check you get, okay?” You whisper back to him, resting your hands on his chest as you push him away slightly, yet he doesn’t budge. His previously playful gaze shifts into something more serious.

The wicked glint that never seemed to leave his warm chocolate eyes is more pronounced as the light grip he had on the back of your neck tightens, prompting you to lift your head up even further.

Lowering his head, his lips ghosts over yours, and you inhale sharply. His eyes briefly flicker away from your eyes to your lips, and your body nearly vibrates in anticipation. Yet before he can press his lips against yours, a loud bang is heard coming from the kitchen. A heavy sigh leaves both you and Kiyose’s lips as he steps away from you. Your time with him has come to an end and he is unfortunately needed elsewhere.

“I gotta…” He trailed off, and you nod in understanding.

“Yeah, I understand,” You responded, a light grin tugging on your lips to assure him that you were not upset. You noticed the way he lingered, and you felt your chest warm. He didn’t want to leave your presence, but he was needed elsewhere.

With much reluctance, he places another soft peck against your cheek, bidding you a soft goodbye that has the sense of disappointment settling over your heart once again. Yet you shake it off. It was just a mere rain check; you were absolutely sure that you and Kiyose would have time to go on your first date soon.

Unfortunately, time appeared to not be on your side.

The next couple of weeks you were swamped with work and Kiyose wasn’t fairing well either. It seemed like every time the two of you would align your free days together, a new problem arose. If it wasn’t your boss calling to ask you to come in on your day off, it was Kiyose becoming caught up with the track team and helping them progress.

Even when he’d managed to escape the busy lifestyle of taking care of everyone in his life, you were too busy trying to complete a mountain of assignments to give him the attention that he and you craved.

Sure the two of you messaged each other throughout the day, and you heard his melodic voice through the speakers of your phone late at night; hell there were even days where you had dinner with him and his teammates. Yet, it just wasn’t the same as spending proper alone time with him. You craved to spend a day with just Kiyose, and Kiyose only, but with the way everything was panning out you’d be lucky to get a date by the end of the semester.

You couldn’t help the sense of dismay that clouded your mind, because, fuck, all you wanted to do was spend a nice evening with your boyfriend. Yet, the both of you couldn’t even manage to find the time to be together.

“Was your relationship doomed before it even truly began?” You wondered to yourself as you entered your small apartment, sighing from a rather long shift at your part time job. You briefly glanced at your phone, noticing a message from the very man that never seemed to stray away from your mind.

Opening the message, your brows shot up in slight surprise as you read over the message inviting you over to his dorms. Shooting a quick message stating that you would be over in around thirty minutes, you began to discard your work uniform. You shot through a swift routine of showering, changing your clothes into something that was appropriate for having a late dinner with your boyfriend and his friends.

Even with your quick change of clothes, it didn’t take you long to arrive at the track team’s dorms. As you entered the building, you noticed how eerily quiet it was. The laughter that you were accustomed to didn’t greet you, and your brows furrowed in slight confusion. As you took your shoes off, you allowed yourself to peek down the hallway, keeping an ear out to see if the guys were just still in their rooms, freshening up for dinner.

“Haiji?” You called out, as you placed your shoes near the door, walking down the hallway.

“In the kitchen,” You heard him respond and as you rounded the corner, your eyes landed to the singular candle that was lit on top of the table, illuminating the dinner for two.

Your eyes flickered from the twinkling candle light, before they settled on Kiyose who was exiting the kitchen. The previously confused expression on your face melts into one of pure warmth as your eyes lock with Kiyose’s gaze.

“Did the twins cook again?” You tease as you sink to the ground, eyes shifting from his gentle, yet penetrating gaze, to the food that was neatly arranged on the table. Kiyose’s melodic laughter fills your ears, and you can feel your body practically melting. You hear him sit beside you, prompting your eyes to move from the food back to his smiling face.

“No,” He answered, “I can’t have you breaking up with me just yet.”

Your brows raise as a giggle leaves your lips, “Oh? Is that so?”

Kiyose nods his head, his own chuckles leaving his lips. Once your laughter subsides, you lick your lips as you look over the room, once again noting the lack of extra noise in the dorms.

“So I suppose no one else will be joining us, hm?” You questioned, turning to look back at your boyfriend. You note how the gleam in his rich brown eyes seem to twinkle in the warm candlelight. He leans into you, lips spreading from his usual smile into something much softer; a smile he only seems to give you.

“I might’ve convinced them to go out for a couple of hours or so.”

Another burst of giggles leave your lips as you mimic his actions, “Convinced or ordered?”

Kiyose holds your gaze, fingers smoothing up the length of your arm before cupping the back of your neck. His thumb grazes your jawline as you relax into his touch. You watch as his eyelids lower as his gaze shifts to your lips.

“Does it matter?” He whispers to you, and your lips part to respond. However, before a syllable is uttered, his lips pressed softly against yours. As your eyelids fluttered closed, you found yourself agreeing that it didn’t matter at all.

#run with the wind x reader #run with the wind #Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kiyose haiji #kiyose haiji x reader #oneshot #nghts week of fics

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amlovelies · 3 years

Text

Addie

part 2: cruelty

pairing: Vexx/f!traveler (Adonia) warnings: some mild suggestive language words: 1.6k read on ao3 part 1

Vexx almost makes it back to the barracks. Crescents mark where his nails have dug into his palm, and he is grateful for the late hour as he slides down the wall of the hallway and sinks to the floor. He can still smell her perfume. He has no nose for fragrance but he knows hers well. At first encounter all softness and flowers, like a spring day walking in the gardens, but it’s not the flowers that linger on his skin. Something deeper, something warm and enticing, teases at his senses and sets his pulse racing. He half expects to find her watching him from the end of the hall, but she’s not there. She is back in her room where he left her.

If he returned and knocked on the door would she answer? Would she let him in? She shouldn’t, but she would. Addie trusts him. She loves him. She hadn’t finishing saying the word, but he’d seen it in her eyes. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s guessed it for a while now, heard it in the way she said his name, felt it when she would squeeze his hand.

He could go back and take all that she offers. Lose himself in her softness, and her warmth and her love.

A year ago, he’d expected the Princess Adonia to be a vapid and shallow thing, someone only concerned with her wealth and status. Someone expecting to be pampered and coddled at every turn.

That was until he’d happened upon her creeping out from behind a tapestry. The sight of her like that, cobwebs stuck in her long chestnut hair and smudges on her face, was so at odds with his expectations. Perhaps there’s more to this princess than I thought he’d mused to himself with a soft chuckle.

There was so much more to her.

The problem is there’s also so much more to him. Zovack gave him one job, find a way around security, find a way for him to storm the palace, find a way for him to take the throne. Information he’d had for months now. Information Addie had given him, with a shy smile and sparkling eyes, not knowing it would spell her doom.

Except it hadn’t.

It’s been many months since she mentioned a passageway that led out beyond the walls of the palace. She was different in the tunnels. Less guarded, her smile wider. He hadn’t known she had dimples until then.

“Do you run off and explore the city when I’m not looking princess?” he’d asked leaning close in the confined space.

He’d been flattered when he’d first noticed her crush. As much as he pretended it was a tactical move, he enjoyed encouraging her affections. He enjoyed the breathy quality to her voice when she got nervous and her habit of biting her lip when unable to think of a response to his antics.

“What? No,” she’d responded her voice flustered.

“I wouldn’t even know where to go. It’s not that I don’t want to,” her voice dropped to a whisper before she went silent. He remembers the longing in her eyes.

He should have gone to Zovack that night, but he hadn’t. She had given him exactly what they would need. She had given him the tools to bring this whole rotten palace down around them. She had given him the tools to free his parents.

It would just cost her life. At the time, he’d told himself he need more information, better information to give Zovack, but was that really the truth? It suddenly wasn’t so easy to sign her death warrant. When did she begin to matter?

Was it that day he heard music coming from a supposedly empty hall and discovered her dancing? He’d been transfixed by the sight of her. Her body swaying and moving to the music in graceful movements as she balanced on her toes and spun and pirouetted through the empty space. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, so much so that he’d leaned out from the shadows to get a better view. She’d caught him red handed, but been so embarrassed that she’d hadn’t questioned what he was doing so far away from his post. He can’t even remember what excuse he’d come up with. She trusted him. She’d always been too trusting.

Was it the day he’d finally led her out into the sunshine on the other side of the palace walls? Her tentative first steps into the city that she had lived her whole life in but never visited. She’d looks so different then, her hair in a long braid down her back, in a stolen hat and coat, no longer a princess, but just Adonia.

They’d sat near one of the cities many fountains sharing a snack and watching the people pass. Her eyes hungry and drinking in all the sights. The children in particular delighted her, “I’m the youngest” she had told him. “Ven’dela was always with her mother, and Arlo didn’t want to waste time playing with a girl.”

Her voice turned wistful, “I wonder what it would have been like to so many friends, at least I have you now, Vexx.”

“Of course, Princess,” he’d answered trying to ignore the feelings of guilt her statement elicited.

Her eyes widened with panic, “you shouldn’t call me that here, what if someone overheard you?”

“They’d probably think I was flirting with you,” he’d said with a smirk. “What should I call you then princess? Adonia?”

“What else would you call me?”

“I don’t know Adonia is a bit of a mouth full, feels a bit pretentious too,” She scowled, her face all scrunched up. He’d laughed, she always managed to make him laugh, and after a moment offered, “how about Addie?”

“Addie?” she tried the name out feeling the syllables out with her mouth, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her lips, “I like that.”

It had been Addie from then on. Not in public, because he was still a guard and she was a princess, but, whenever they were alone. Either exploring the streets of the city or the hidden spaces of the palace, they were alone often.

As much as he flirted and teased, he hadn’t planned on kissing her. It had happened on one of their many excursions into the city; they’d been caught in a surprise rain storm. The day had started all sunshine and then the skies had darkened. When it began to pour, instead of running for shelter she’d tipped her head back and let the rain fall over her skin. She’d laughed and then kicked water at him from a puddle. Had they run, they probably could have made it back to the passageway relatively dry, but they didn’t. Instead, they laughed and played and by the time they made it they were soaked.

He hadn’t been thinking about Zovack and revolution, he’d been thinking how the sound of her laugh made him feel light. He hadn’t known until later that it was her first kiss. All he’d known was that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Zovack has been endlessly patient with him, accepting all his delays and promises to fulfill his mission, but from the coded message Vexx had received this morning his patience has run out. Zovack wants him to report in person, and Nerissa needs more time.

Time that Vexx would try to buy her.

Vexx is no fool. He knows that lying to Zovack is dangerous. At best Zovack will think he is a failure, and he’s killed for less than that. The masquerade was one last chance to hold Addie in his arms. To see her smile, and even for just a moment see the world with the joy and wonder that she does.

She’d looked so beautiful tonight. The yellow of her dress complimented her tawny skin, and even behind her mask her blue eyes had sparkled. She’d felt so right in he’s arms as they’d spun along the ballroom floor. He’d seen more than a few heads turn to watch her graceful movements and felt the thrill of pride that she was in his arms.

He’s not sure he’d ever desired someone more.

It was a goodbye. When they danced in the garden, he’d tried his best to imprint her face on his memory. He wouldn’t let himself forget the way the moonlight shimmered over her features and got caught in her long dark hair. He would remember the quiet of the garden and the feeling that they were all alone in the world. Even now, he can close his eyes he can still feel the warmth of her hand in his.

He should have made an excuse when she asked him to come to her room, but he hadn’t. He’d had her there, willing, and open. The soft curves of her shivering under his hands and his lips.

I love her.

That’s what stopped him. When he heard her begin to say it, he knew he couldn’t go through with this. No matter how much he may want to lose himself in her. No matter how willing she was.

It would be a cruelty. It was already a cruelty. There was a whole year of cruelties that he had committed against her. A year of smiles and jokes and dreams of a life they could spend together.

With a shuddering breath, he rises from his slumped position. He only allows himself a glance back down the hall. For a brief moment he considers asking her to run away with him. He always promised to take her traveling.

It’s a fool’s dream. Zovack would hunt them to the edge of the system and beyond.

The only thing he can do now is try to buy them time.

He has to try.

tagging: @lord-king-saint, @bellarxse, @alavidzes, @roses-and-roo, and @pearlsandsteel

#andromeda six #a6 vexx #lovelies writes #oc: traveler adonia #fic: adonia #vn: a6

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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

Be Still, My Heart

PART 1

Marcus Pike X Tattooed/Pierced Reader

A/n: So... this has been in my WIPs for a few months. I’m dedicating this to @pikemoreno cause its her husband, obviously and @flightlessangelwings since this was our Lovechild idea. Both of us are tatted, she wants lots more piercings and it is my lifelong goal to join the FBI and be on the Gang Unit. So this was created. Enjoy!

Taglist: @mikeisthricedeceased

It has been about month since the dreaded break up between up Marcus Pike and Teresa Lisbon. Marcus, who has not yet transferred to D.C., was still having to work in same space as her and Patrick Jane. And it killed him.

He hated seeing them together. True, he understood that maybe he moved too fast, and that she clearly wasn’t over her feelings for Jane, but it left a bitter seed inside him.

‘Why wasn’t I enough?’

He tried his best not to ruminate on the thoughts, feelings, or memories that would barrage his brain all hours through the day. He tended to run through the motions. His team could tell. His team noticed he was quieter, that he smiled less. There was nothing they could. How does a person help heal a broken heart?

It was about midday when he was informed that he was getting a transfer teammate. They were coming in from the gang unit. So, he got the desk that sat opposite his ready for them.

He was deep into reading a file, vaguely aware that the elevator dinged, when a voice cleared their throat.

He looked up and was surprised by the sight he saw. It was a woman, dressed in pencil skirt and a silk blouse, that fitted her perfectly. She had tattoos up and down her arms, and he could see some on her legs. She had multiple piercings in her ears, and one in her lower lip.

Upon first sight, he expected someone who was going to be gruff and rude but was pleasantly surprised when he heard her speak.

“Hi. Agent Pike? My name is Steel,” Her voice was soft and dainty sounding.

“Steel?” He asked, slightly confused because that was not the name he was given.

She gasped, slapping a hand lightly to her forehead, and gave him her real name.

“Sorry, I’ve been undercover too long. Steel was my nickname,” She apologized by biting her lip softly.

“That’s okay. I like it. Is it because of the piercings or what?” he asked curious, he found her charming.

“That and they said I had ‘nerves of steel.’ I don’t know. It’s silly, but it stuck,” She commented with a shrug.

He smiled and nodded before informing her, “Alright, so here’s where you’ll sit. This pile of folders are all of our open cases so far. Familiarize yourself with them. This isnt the gang unit so it’s not really action-packed, so… sorry if that’s a problem.”

“Not a problem at all. I’m ready for something a bit… calmer. Question though, why is our unit down here? I thought we had an entire floor?” She questioned sitting down.

“We usually do. The floor is being renovated and in a month and a half, half of the team will be going to D.C. so. Kind of just stuck here,” Marcus explained ignoring the pang in his chest as he thought about it.

“Oh. Okay. Would I be included in that half?” She asked quietly.

“Probably. The director will let you know by the end of the week,” He told her before returning to his file.

She nodded her head and took a moment to quietly study him. He was awfully handsome, and she could tell he was probably quite the gentlemen. She knew her body art can be quite the shocker, but his stare never once turned judgmental. In fact, he almost appeared curious about them.

She got to work and slowly met the rest of the team as the day went on. At the end of the day, they offered to buy her a drink, as a celebration. She accepted with a smile and looked over at Marcus who was still working.

“Would you like to join us?” She offered walking over to him.

He looked up at the question and noticed everyone was about to head out.

He politely shook his head, “No. Thank you though.”

She nodded her head once, and gave him a small wave goodbye, as she rejoined the others. They headed to a local pub that was 2 blocks over. They ordered their drinks and were talking amongst themselves.

At one point she noticed, one of the team members, Jack, scoffed quietly. She looked at him confused and followed his gaze over to the table where the other team that they shared space with sat. The others slowly got into a soured mood as they noticed their presence as well.

She whispered, “What’s up? Why are y’all acting weird?”

Amanda, who sat next to her, “So, you were bound to find out. But... the leader over there? Lisbon? Marcus was dating her.”

Chase who sat across from her finished, “He even proposed to her. She accepted but not even an hour later, broke it off to be with the blonde asshat you see with them.”

“So. We don’t like them,” Jack stated rolling his eyes.

Steel mouthed a silent ‘oh.’

“Worst part is, he’s also divorced. He has the worst luck with women and he’s honestly the sweetest guy I know. If I didn’t have a wife, I would take him,” Amanda said with a small sigh.

Steel listened to them, as they told her more stories about their boss. Not one of them seem to have a bad thing to say about him. That night as she went home, she was determined to make him smile again.

It began subtly. She would leave sticky notes randomly on his desk, that told silly jokes/puns or have phrases of encouragement.

His smile would be faint when he would find them. He was well aware of who was leaving them. Only one person had bright pink sticky notes, and she left them sitting on her desk.

Then she began to leave little flowers or candies on his desk. She always acted like she didn’t know what he was talking about when he brought it up. This went on for 2 weeks. When she found out that she would be heading to D.C. with them, she asked Marcus if he would be okay with helping her pack up some things. With it being a month away, most of them had the majority of their things packed up already.

He agreed to help with a smile.

That weekend, they went and got boxes and tubs galore. Her house was two-story townhouse. She fortunately, didn’t have stuff in every room, but she did have quite the library. Which is what he wound up helping her with the most.

They spent a great deal of time talking about books, especially over lunch and dinner. They were finishing up in the library later that evening when Marcus paused for a moment.

“How… how many tattoos do you have?” He asked eventually.

“Quite a few. I plan to get more as well. Piercings is probably easier to tell you,” She mentioned offhandedly.

“You have more than what I can see?” He inquired looking at her closely.

She giggled and cleared her throat before explaining “So I have 5 in each ear. My lip. Umm. This is probably too much info for my boss to know but I also had my nipples pierced anddd.. someplace else.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, his mouth dropping. “Wow.”

“Well, I had to get rid of,” She gestured to her chest. “when I began in the academy, so I technically don’t have them anymore. Uh. Tis not fun to run with them.”

He blushed lightly at that and chuckled softly, looking away.

“And… I think that’s enough on the TMI portion from my end. Um. Do you have any body modifications?” She asked awkwardly trying to get the focus off of her.

“No. I do not. Um. Always thought about getting a tattoo but was never brave enough to do it,” He mentioned as he took a seat on a tub.

“Really? Well. Maybe when we are in D.C., we can go get you a tattoo. I’d hold your hand and everything,” She suggested sitting next to him.

“I’d like that. Even the hand-holding part,” He teased lightly.

They stared at each, looking softly at one another. Her eyes glanced down at his lips briefly, wondering what they would feel like against hers.

He slowly leaned forward, his hand brushing along her jaw. She hesitantly closed the gap, pressing her lips against his. She pulled away slightly, trying to make sure he was okay with this. He pulled her back to him and kissed her more firmly. The passion was unhurried, building up gradually. When they pulled away, they were both breathless.

“Wow,” She whispered looking down, feeling her cheeks warm up.

Marcus cleared his throat and said, “I really like you… and I’m sure you’ve heard… about my previous relationship. If… if it doesn’t bother you… I’d like to be with you but… if.. if we could take it slowly?”

She looked up at him, stunned. “Honestly… I was worried you were about to say that was a mistake. I don’t mind taking this slowly. I just got out of pretty bad relationship myself to be honest. But I like you. A lot.”

He bit his lip briefly and nodded his head. “If I may, since we only really got a room done… maybe tomorrow I can take you out to lunch as a date before tackling the next room?”

“I’d like that,” She agreed softly smiling brightly at him.

She walked him to the door, and she started to tell him goodbye, but stopped.

“I know we agreed to take it slowly… but can I kiss you again?” She requested, fiddling with a lock of hair nervously.

He stepped forward, leaned down, and pressed his lips to hers in response. She slowly wrapped her hands around his neck, burying them in his hair, as she kissed back.

The kiss was shorter but still just as passionate.

As he pulled away, he quietly confirmed, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nodded telling him goodbye as he walked out. She locked the door with a sigh. She felt super giddy and couldn’t wait to see him again tomorrow.

Marcus, as he stepped into his car, felt happy. Something he hadn’t felt in a while. He looked forward to seeing Steel again. That night, as he got ready for bed, he realized… that not once that day… did his mind ever think of Lisbon. Even now, as he settled into his bed, he wasn’t riddled with thoughts or memories of their doomed relationship. He fell asleep thinking of woman covered in tattoos and piercings.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #mentalist

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

Text

A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 13, 3200 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for.

Read on AO3

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Vex steps out of the temple, Vax by her side, and the light of the day feels wrong. It feels like decades have passed while they discussed what to do about Percival de Rolo, not merely a few hours.

Maybe it’s because the inside of the Lady’s Chamber is as barren as the Zenith is desolate. She gets the minimalist aesthetic that comes with the Lawbearer but she wishes there were some colorful tapestries to at least brighten up the room.

It’s midday, which is the only reason it’s this bright out. It’s Duscar 2nd, the shortest day of the year, and it means especially a lot so far North. There will only be a couple hours more of daylight and whatever work Vex had leftover for the day will have to wait until tomorrow.

Keeper Yennen is the only one of the group that stayed behind. Father Reynal is already halfway through the square, walking towards his temple and the cemetery. The rest of them gather a few feet from the door, looking at each other with the awkwardness of recently-introduced coworkers.

They form quite the motley crew. A cleric of an all-but-forgotten goddess, a barbarian, two half-elf twins, and the only remaining alive and safe member of the ruling family of the city. She’s barely counting in the two aging priests that provide mostly support and won’t be let anywhere near the fiend.

This feels doomed to fail. A small part of Vex tells her regularly that she should run away and leave these people to their own devices, that this doesn’t concern her. They should all be lucky her professional consciousness is stronger than that little survivalist voice.

“Vex?” Pike’s voice resounds, soft and light and Vex looks down at the other woman.

“Yes?”

Pike looks at her with an apologetic smile. “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t know at the time what was happening. I should probably have warned you once I was made aware of the situation…”

Vex shakes her head. “It’s okay, Pike, it wasn’t your responsibility. You have nothing to do with it.”

It was the priests’ responsibility. It should have been them who warned Vex of what the fiend was. But they’d covered it up. They potentially had lost precious time, because they hadn’t let her do her job.

Pike smiles at her. “I wasn’t lying about the… being sent by my goddess thing,” she points out. “I don’t think I would have left Westrunn if that wasn’t for her.”

Vex raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I have family there. My great-grandpa. And I’m trying to bring some sort of Sarenrae worship back, build a new temple. It’s not super easy, even with this guy,” she points at Grog. Grog smiles at Vex, a smile that would have been scary if Vex hadn’t already seen how soft he was around Pike. “Sarenrae was forgotten a long time ago.”

Vex doesn’t know much about Sarenrae, mostly only what Pike has told her. She nods. “I see. Well I hope either way that it will go well for you. It seems like a good goddess to have a congregation of.”

Pike chuckles. “Yeah, she’s no Betrayer,” she nods. “Alright then. I think Grog and I will go get lunch. Have a good day, and see you at the next meeting.”

Vex bids them goodbye before turning back to her brother, who seems in the middle of a conversation with Cassandra.

“It’s Barren Eve,” Vax is saying when Vex settles next to him. “Are you going to light candles for your family?”

Cassandra seems a little taken aback by that. “Probably,” she replies after a small moment. “What happened here wasn’t really a war, but it’s close enough.”

Vex crosses her arms. “I understand you don’t want to relive what happened, but I’d really appreciate knowing the background of this entire story. It might give us some idea of where to start looking for the fiend your brother has elected to make a deal with.”

Cassandra observes her for a moment, eyes heavy with horrors Vex can’t even imagine. She feels a little guilty for bringing this up over and over again but she needs to know. She can’t go out of her way to save a De Rolo without knowing why he’s in this situation in the first place.

“I can tell you the story,” Cassandra nods. “However I’d like… some privacy?” She gestures at the open square around them. “And it will be more comfortable somewhere where we can all sit. I can bring you to my home if you’d like.”

That’s a sign of goodwill if Vex has ever seen any. Vax is already acquiescing before Vex opens her mouth to accept. He seems to like her. Maybe it’s that sibling thing. Cassandra isn’t a twin, but she’s a sister.

They quickly start making their way to Cassandra’s home. They are mostly silent while on the road. They don’t have a lot of things to talk about. There’s a lot of heaviness between them. Vex doesn’t really feel like dissipating it just yet, if she’s being honest with herself. It’s petty, but it feels good.

To Vex’s surprise, Cassandra guides them off into an alleyway and behind the Alcove, the shop Vex visited on her very first visit into town. She remembers meeting Keyleth there, with those strange clockwork machines that she now knows to be the work of Percival himself.

Cassandra opens a door at the back of the Alcove’s building. Behind it is a narrow stairwell. Vax closes the door behind himself as they walk up into Cassandra’s home.

It’s an apartment, Vex can only see the first room she steps in, all other doors are closed. It’s tidy, but lived in. There are many books lining shelves against the walls, a lot that looks like textbooks.

There’s a small clockwork machine on one of the shelves. There’s a picture framed on the wall, a family portrait. Vex counts two adults and seven children of various sizes. There are twins in there.

“You had a big family,” Vex points out.

Cassandra nods sadly. “It’s been strange to be alone,” she replies.

Vex feels like an asshole again.

They settle around the light wooden table in the middle of the room. Cassandra serves them some coffee and they let the silence settle around them, heavy and thick. Vex doesn’t know exactly how to start this, how to ask again, so she just sort of waits.

“So… my family,” Cassandra starts, shifting a little. She seems to be getting comfortable for a long tale. “The De Rolos founded Whitestone in the early seventh century. We came from Wildemount, wrecked our ship on the Shearing Channels. The Sun Tree was already there, glowing in the winter, and we settled around it. As time passed, we discovered the whitestone of the Alabaster Sierras had a few properties of interest to spellcasters. It allowed us to develop trade with the home continent.”

Vex didn’t expect the story to start this far back in the past. She expected a retelling of the last few years, perhaps, but this is much closer to a history lesson.

Cassandra pauses and takes a sip of coffee before continuing.

“Wildemount is not like Tal’Dorei or Issylra. Arcane magic is much more developed and studied there than it is here. They have very important arcane societies. One of those societies is called the Cerberus Assembly,” she explains. “They’re a group of mages, maybe the most influential political power on Wildemount. And they had great use for whitestone. That’s how my family eventually came in contact with Archmage Delilah Briarwood, one of the eight archmages of the Cerberus Assembly.”

She swallows hard, her eyes staring at the table. Vex already knows from this look that Delilah Briarwood is going to become one of the main players of this story. She thinks she’s heard the Briarwood name before… or maybe it was Cerberus Assembly. Perhaps her father has met with some of the members of that assembly before, or they’ve come to Syngorn. The elven society is filled with scholars of the arcane.

Cassandra starts talking again, with a voice sounding almost detached from the story.

“They had mostly business relations with her. She was deeply interested in Whitestone’s history, in the Sun Tree and the Alabaster Sierras’ tale of creation during the Calamity. They weren’t great friends, but they knew each other well enough. So when Lord Sylas and Lady Delilah Briarwood came knocking at the doors of the castle, looking for a place to stay as they had been unjustly driven out of the Assembly, my parents believed them.”

Her voice is clouded with bitterness. So that was probably a lie then. Vex swallows. She can feel the tension in the memories building, can feel the dread wrapping around those words. The longer Cassandra talks, the more she fears the climax of it.

“I don’t know what they said that made my parents believe all their stories. I was about 14 at the time, and I wasn’t allowed in the office when those conversations were held,” she swallows. “But the Briarwoods settled in our home with their personal doctor, Anna Ripley, and then their friends trickled into the city. The doctor took great interest in Percival’s studies, growing close to his tutor, Professor Anders. Unbeknownst to all of us, they were plotting to take over.”

Her hand around the cup tightens, the knuckles white with the tension.

“We held a feast for the anniversary of their arrival, exactly one year after they’d found us. They’d become part of the family. We toasted to them. And then, they started murdering us. Sylas Briarwood was actually not a man but an undead creature, and his strength and seeming taste for blood was the end of my mother and father. And then they hunted the rest of the family, as well as the staff. For some reason, they’d decided to keep the youngest of us alive. Percival, the twins, Ludwig and I. I’m guessing the doctor’s fondness for Percy was his saving grace.”

Cassandra has a soft, bitter chuckle. Vex almost mirrors it. It is strange to think of saving graces when she has seen what Percival has become.

“The details are fuzzy, but somehow I managed to get Percy and I out. We ran through the secret tunnel, the one you probably were in, to freedom. Well… he did,” she looks down again. “They had archers on the wall and they caught me. Percy ran away as I was hit with arrows and… that’s the last time I saw him un-possessed. I think I died there, from being shot through with arrows. Yet, I awakened later on in my very own bed in the castle. They’d cleared out the bodies and styled themselves Lord and Lady of Whitestone, and took me in for… the Gods only know why…”

Pain is now obvious over her face. She’s struggled to keep it in the entire time, but the coldness and detachment she affected before are gone.

“For three years, I was theirs. Eventually, I stopped thinking myself a de Rolo, but rather a Briarwood. They called me their daughter,” she whispers. “The city tried fighting back, but I was playing a game with the rebellion, spying on them for information. I still don’t know if I was doing it of my own volition. But because of me, many of my people died… All their attempts at gaining freedom failed.”

There are tears in her eyes now, her voice is shaking and so are her hands. Vex doesn’t know what to do. She wishes she could comfort her but… She honestly doesn’t believe there is anything she can say that will make any of this better. Cassandra was used and abused by these Briarwoods.

“One day, Percy showed up, with a weapon of his own making, a demon riding his soul and he murdered them all. He murdered the Briarwoods, he murdered Ripley, that he’d loved so much. He murdered his teacher, and the Briarwoods’ friends, and then he turned his gun on me.”

Her breath itches and a sob wracks its way out of her throat.

“His eyes were black, there was this smoke around him, and he wasn’t my brother anymore,” Cassandra sobs. “But he still… he told me to run. He managed to fight the demon and tell me to run and I did. He tried to take a shot at me but missed.”

Run. Please. The man’s voice and his eyes are still carved in Vex’s memory. She can’t imagine what Cassandra must have felt when Vex told her what happened to her, how he let her go but still shot her.

“That’s the last time I saw him,” she leans back against the chair, a bit calmer, as if emptied out of the sorrow for a moment. “Keyleth is the only one who ever gets to go see him. And she can’t tell him where I am. Or he’ll come for me.”

It’s fucking tragic.

Vex’s mind seems to run empty for a long moment. No wonder no one will talk about the massacre. Or the massacres, plural, as it is. There are so many questions that suddenly press to the forefront. Lord Briarwood had been undead with a taste for blood? That’s… almost something out of scary stories for children.

“How long has it been?” Vax asks next to her. He seems to be managing this much better than Vex is.

“About two years?” Cassandra replies. “Something like that. I admit weeks and months seem to blend into each other lately.”

That makes sense. Vex can pretty much say the same about the months of her recovery before she moved to Whitestone. Trying to move on from traumatic events feels like trying to run through jelly. Days repeat themselves until it’s suddenly six months later and you feel just slightly better.

Vex herself isn’t completely out of it. Some days, she barely recognizes herself. She has Vax, and Trinket. What does Cassandra have? A memory, a shadow of the brother she can’t seem to help.

“He taught me all I know about constellations, you know? We’d sneak out onto the high balconies at night and he’d tell me all he’d learned about them in books, before I could read.” She smiles then, bitterness filling her eyes. “I’m never getting him back, am I?”

Vex feels a knot in her throat forming, and this time she can’t stay quiet. Even if the words that come up don’t feel like they fit. She can’t think of any other ones. But she has to say something right? Maybe nothing will ever exactly fit, and it’s either this… almost meaningless platitude or silence.

“We will do our best.” It rings empty, falling flat as Cassandra laughs. “I can’t promise him back, but… we will do what we can.”

“I suppose that has to be enough. If only I had…” She trails off, and it isn’t hard to see where her thoughts have gone.

“Staying wouldn’t have changed anything. You would simply be dead.” Vex doesn’t want to hurt the girl with her bluntness, but she sees her flinch regardless. “It wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t your brother anymore when he came back.”

She looks over at Vax for a half a second, his quiet sad smile that never really reaches his eyes, the comfort he’s so obviously trying to exude, draping his body in the least threatening way, open palms on the table, knowing how to exist in a way that won’t make someone like Cassandra or Vex run away.

He heard what Cassandra said about being trapped. And maybe even more than Vex, he recognized what it meant.

What would she be feeling if Vax had made a deal with a demon to help her get rid of Saundor?

She can’t quite imagine that black smoke around Vax’s golden skin instead of Percy’s much paler one. She can’t imagine it living inside of him. Forcing herself to imagine it makes feel a little nauseous.

“I… know what it’s like for your loved ones to get hurt when they come to save you,” Vex adds after a moment.

The bramble-like arrow shot by Fenthras going through Vax’s shoulder, his face growing paler from the pain of it. He had to get too close to Saundor to stab him but it made him vulnerable. He took the risk anyway. He always took the risks for her.

“If you looked through the file you had on me, then you know a lot about my past. You know I was involved with an Archfey,” Vex whispers. “And you know some of the story of how it ended. But…” She looks down for a second. “Vax had to come and get me. I wouldn’t have made it out by myself. I couldn’t even really think of escaping at the time.”

Vex looks up to meet Cassandra’s eyes. Hopefully she gets why Vex is telling that story. The parallel, if slightly distorted, between Percy and Vax in this situation are easy to see.

“I guess us big brothers tend to be a little reckless when it comes to our younger sisters,” Vax points out with a humorless chuckle.

Vex rolls her eyes. “I’m three minutes younger than you.”

Cassandra’s face cracks in a smile at that.

“Either way,” Vax shrugs. “We really are going to do what we can to make sure this has a happy ending for the both of you. As happy as possible.”

Cassandra takes a sip of her coffee. It’s probably cold now, but Vex understands the need to give oneself countenance. She straightens up a little. “I hope so,” she mutters. “I really do. I don’t want to be the sole heir to Whitestone.”

Vex thinks she can read between those lines. I don’t want to be alone. She gets it. She really does. The past few days have made sure the only person she has is Vax. She wouldn’t want to lose him either.

“If I bump into him again,” Vex starts slowly. “Do you want me to tell him something from you?”

Cassandra’s eyes widen. Vex understands that Percy’s not supposed to know where Cassandra is, but a simple message without location won’t do much harm. It might just help him fight the demon.

For as much as she empathizes with Cassandra and her loneliness, she can’t help but think of Percy too. Two years of nothing but a demon for company. Two years of knowing you might just kill everyone you love.

“Please… If you see him,” Cassandra whispers after a moment. “Tell him I still love him.”

“I can do that,” Vex nods.

Afterwards, it’s hard to find words to end that conversation but they somehow manage. They exchange numbers and Vex makes sure Cassandra’s calls will ring loud and clear no matter what happens or if her phone is on silent. They say goodbye and the twins start their way back to the car.

Vex extends her hand in between them and Vax doesn’t waste a second to take it.

#perc'ahlia #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #vax'ildan #pike trickfoot #cassandra de rolo #vox machina #critical role #fic #mine

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bloodyblade · 3 years

Text

Tremble For My Beloved [2]

Pairing: Thorin x Fem!Reader Summary: AU in which the daughter of a nobleman was running for her life after an orc attack, and after being welcomed under Gandalf’s wings, joins the quest to reconquer Erebor. Sort of. Warnings: Mentions of violence. Word Count: 3.006 words.

[Chapter 1] [Ao3]

Chapter Two.

Dark wood and stains covered the place, certainly making an… impression. You didn’t open your mouth to say a word about the place, you were in no position to demand anything and she didn’t quite trust the man yet. Or not man, whatever. He said he was a wizard, so that explains the clothing and interesting choice of accessories.

You did go back to your family’s state, but they got in through the servers door, wishing to avoid the scenery. Your heart broke to pisces knowing you would have to leave them there, not being able to give them a proper goodbye, ceremony and burial. They didn’t deserve to be found like this, and only Mahal knows how long it would take for someone to eventually notice something was amiss and search for answers. But you did what you had to do, walking too slowly to Gandalf’s liking, telling you to fasten your pace in case anyone came back looking for you, which you knew was very likely. But inside, you felt like saying goodbye at least to the walls and foundations you were raised in, it wasn’t likely that you were to ever see this place again.

A few paintings were hanging around your room, all done by your own hand, some doodles from your childhood who looked rather scary under the candlelights when it was dark, and several flowers painted separately as you tried to learn how to paint throughout the years. You never did get much better at it, but it didn’t matter much, it was something you enjoyed and proud yourself on. It looked much better than your needle work, anyways. Opening the wardrobe doors, you saw one of your first tries of embroidering a skirt, which earned a scolding from your father -that’s how ugly it was, yes.

The memories weren’t stuck to a place, but it pained you deeply having to leave all of it behind. Grabbing a fabric travelling bag, which Gandalf advised would be much well fitted for your travel, you separated essentials. Mostly. Some fitting and soft trousers and whatever was better for traveling on foot and on horseback. You did get some dresses, but they were not a priority anymore. Some bags of coins, soaps, basic necessity items and a diary. For the calendar, of course. You needed to keep track of time, not to reminisce at the pictures and drawings that remained there since childhood. And before the wizard could bolt in there and drag you from your room and on your feet for a few hours, you changed clothes. Boots, trousers and a lighter tunic, shoving another one fit for winter on the bag after remembering you didn’t know how long you would be travelling for. You didn’t have time to shower, but you did clean yourself the best you could.

With one last look, you blew out the candles and left with a heavy heart, hearing Gandalf mumbling to himself, probably complaining about how long you took. He didn’t say anything when you joined him again, just gave you a quick glance and started walking in long strides, making it difficult to keep up with him and his spidery legs. Thankfully he had a horse, a beautiful white one. You may have asked what its name was, only to receive no answer at all besides him telling you to climb behind him. Asshat.

And you obviously couldn’t tell how much time had passed, you only knew: you were moving to Mahal knows where and you should have got something to eat before leaving. The stars were moving at a good pace, but you were uncomfortable. Uncomfortable on top of that horse, uncomfortable behind that man and following him. Hopefully he wasn’t going to hurt you, at least not more than you already were anyway. He didn’t make any conversation and you didn’t feel like starting one, tiredness finally crawling it’s way onto your bones and making your eyes heavy. And even when your emotions were all over the place and feeling like you still had to keep your eyes open, you didn’t think Gandalf was bad. He helped you after all, it was just… things were complicated right now, your bottled emotions wanted to spill, in the form of tears, yells, spit, heavy and painful breaths. But knowing he was taking you far away from danger was enough.

With a sigh, you tightened your arms around the wizard and dropped your head softly on his back and allowed your tired eyes to close. Just to rest a little, trying to keep the gruesome images of the day away and burrowed your face deeper against his worn but comforting clothes. The beads on your braids clinked against each other, the only other sound besides the horse’s hooves hitting the ground and nocturnal animals. As if you were one with the night, your vision got darker and your thoughts silent. But before you could sleep you heard the wizard’s comforting words:

“Don’t worry dear, the inevitable doom of today is going to be over soon.” He spoke over your shoulder while patting your hands and letting you fall asleep, embracing the very welcomed darkness.

And it felt like you just slept for 20 minutes only. When you arrived it was still dark out, so you had no idea of how much time passed. It was a different town, something probably made for there were many passertroughts in the region maybe. What other reason could there be for an inn, if from where you stood everything seemed so small? The stars still shone brightly through the holes poked on the dark sheets of the sky. Your body felt heavy but you allowed Gandalf to help you down, much more gently than when he practically threw you on top of the horse before. Stumbling a little on your feet, you managed to throw a dirty look his way before stepping aside so a stable boy could take the horse to the safety of a roof over it’s head and lots of carrots and apples, hopefully. And by the gods, was this boy tall! Taller than you, anyway. Although there were people much different than you in the city close to where you lived, you never got to close. And maybe you shouldn’t be too close anyway, looking up too much would make your neck hurt.

But you were rather different anyway, somewhat. You didn’t have the facial hair other female dwarves seemed to have, which you dad said you should be thankful for, for mean wouldn’t be as likely to treat you as harshly as them. And even if you never met many others from your race, you felt like an outsider. Whenever you would be out on the city, other dwarflings would point at you and call you a half-breed and when returning home and trying as best as you could to persuade your father to talk about your mother, he would never indulge you, marching away heatedly. This happened way too many times for your liking but you could never let it go. Why didn’t your home have paintings of her? Why was your knowledge of her so limited, only through what others were willing to tell you, but you couldn’t go through her things, take a peek of her dresses and shoes and gloves? Of course, plenty of theories you had but tried not to jump to conclusions. You didn’t really know what to think of it.

Your shortness sometimes would be met with raised eyebrows by some, but mostly that was the end of that. Children were always more brutal and didn’t have a filter on their mouths, often being shushed by their parents. What would they say if your status was different? Maybe now you would get to know. But at home you were always treated kindly by those who were of the race of men. Such as Askell. He didn’t deserve the end he met.

Shaking your head you followed Gandalf’s steps inside the in, and everything was… big and brown and smelt of beer. In the entry was what could be called a reception desk, too tall for you to try to take a look at what was hidden under that and you would die before asking the wizard to pick you up. Mahal, maybe you were supposed to be born a hobbit, who knows. To the side a bar and tables with chairs on top of it were empty, which explained why your body wanted to shut down on the spot. The two of them exchanged a few words, the man behind the counter looking bored as ever, even going so far to yawn on the wizard’s face, who seemed unfazed.

You haven’t noticed they were done talking before Gandalf beckoned you to go with him, the man’s eyes trained on you. You quickly averted your eyes and hurriedly fell into step with Pointy Hat. How could you not lose yourself in thought when he barely talked with you and didn’t even bother to respond at times? Just because he helped you he really thought he could be so… rude?

He stopped in front of a door and handed you a key before opening it, walking towards the door besides yours. Peeking you could see a bed, a fire place and a chair. A tiny window that allowed the moonshine inside, but too tall for you to reach, even if you stood on the bed.

“You need sleep, dear. I’ll send for you at the ‘morrow and we’ll talk.” He said unlocking his own bedroom door. “I give you my word, if that counts for something” He said with a hint of humor in his voice, which prompted you to send a small smile his way. Oh, he was definitely aware of your lack of trust in him.

“G’night.” You wished and hurriedly closed the door behind you, not wanting to wait for his answer, although you could hear a chuckle from where you stood, planted behind the door. When you heard the door close, you finally allowed a relieved breath to leave your body. Locking the door and throwing the bag on the chair and falling face first on the mattress. You couldn’t wait for the next day. Well, you didn’t really want to know what was gonna happen tomorrow, but didn’t have much choice. Your body needed rest anyway, so you allowed yourself to close your eyes and let your body go numb before you fell into unconsciousness.

Maybe whoever designed that place should be fired, for waking up with the blazing rays of sunshine directly onto your eyes should be considered a major offense. You had a restless sleep, waking up in the few hours you had and turning around a considerable amount of times to try and make yourself comfortable on the thin mattress. Despite waking up a little disoriented as to where you were, you quickly grasped what happened last night. Screams, blood and guts, running, a wizard and a shady place you never heard of. It should’ve stayed that away, for the sake of your back. Would’ve been more comfortable sleeping on the grass. Ugh.

Sitting up, you ran your hands on top of your hair to access the damage- definitely felt like a rat’s nest, if you wondered how matted it was. Maybe running your hands thought it would be a bad idea, fingers might get stuck. Quickly scrambling for your bag, you fished for a brush to rey to make it as presentable as possible, knowing it would still look rather… odd. Would Gandalf be awake this early? You were dying to eat anything at all, really. Hopefully he would pay for you and answer your questions.

With nothing to do besides staring at the ceiling, you righted yourself to your best efforts and left the room, taking your belongings with you. You could hear chatter coming from the direction you came from last night. Well, the territory could be… hostile. So yes, of course you had reason to feel anxious and rather worried. Clearly a place made for the race of men, and you could tell. Their strides were long but not as long as the elves would have. They didn’t have the same height, they were similar, sure, but you still had to bend your neck towards the sky sometimes to talk to them. And if the woman who just passed you in the corridor you were standing for a few moments having your monolog was any indication, they either were very confused with your presence or thought you were a lost child. If anything, you were sure you were a very pretty and slightly dirtied child sneaking from the room you were sharing with your parents.

Inhaling deeply you made your way to the dining area, seeing a few people on the tables, including the wizard, smoking a pipe. Looking to the sides, no one was paying attention to you, too enthralled in their own conversations to pay attention to anything else. Making your way towards the table he’s chosen, he had his eyes on you. Diverting your eyes, you sat in front of him.

“Good morning” he said while the smoke dissipated from around him “I take you slept well? You seemed eager to go to bed.” He crossed his hands on the table in front of him, smiling slightly. Was he… making a joke?

“Uh, yeah… I did.” You cleared your throat awkwardly “Thanks for, y’know… That.” You tried again. Did he catch your meaning? “All of it.” You said with a nod. He seemed amused but just sent a nod back your way, before falling into a relative silence, if you ignore the chatter and clattering of cluttering. Servants were collecting things from tables and delivering fresh goods, now that made you realize how hungry you were before noticing a plate being deposited in front of you. Turning quickly to Gandalf, he simply inclined his head and arched an eyebrow -that made you delve right in, as gracefully as you could, but you were starving.

After a few minutes of silence, he began “So... I’m sure you have some questions and I would gladly answer them all.” He adjusted himself in the chair, sitting straighter. “As you might already know, my dear, I’m Gandalf.” You nodded with a mouthful of food “Also known as the Gandalf The Grey, the wizard.” He finished and you smirked, with a nod of understanding you pointed to your clothes. He chuckled “Well?”

With a sigh, you put everything aside, mimicking his posture, inclined on the table as best as you could. “I have several questions, actually.” He gestured for you to continue “Well, first I would like to know how you knew my father.”

“That’s a rather easy question to answer, my dear.” He said with a smile “Sindel, your father, helped me in a moment of need in exchange of my word.” You gave him as someone whose patience was thin. “And that means that for his help, I would give him my help in return, a promise, if you will.” Okay, that made sense. Dad did help several people, that’s who he was after all. “A promise to keep you safe, when the time comes.”

“So that’s how you knew where I lived?” He agreed with a small of course. “Okay, but that’s weird, what you said. You said ‘when the time comes’. And when you found me, I was hiding from death. How did you even know about that? Also how did you find me and how did you know when to come for me?” You spilled the many reasons why you were suspicious of him. Well, there’s his chance of proving himself trustworthy. Even though he already saved your life.

“You know what’s interesting?” He said moving to the side, taking a folded paper and setting it in the middle of the table. “Every dwarf has a prophecy. Sindel, your father had one. Your grandfather Serill had one and so did his One and so did their parents and their parent’s parents. See, when you come of age, you are given your prophecy and have an elder versed in Moon-letters to translate it for you in a private ceremony. But, considering everything that happened and the amount of… loss dwarves had that fateful day, several prophecies were lost, along with the ones who could read Moon-letters.” You reached for the paper curiously. “Your father had his letter and had it translated, so he knew of his fate, shared it with me. He knew of his end but always dreamt with a family. That’s why he asked of me to promise to protect his offspring, when his prophecy was to be fulfilled.” He finished leaning back on the chair, staff on his hand.

Unfolding your prophecy you found… nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Are you playing a trick on me?” You mumbled angrily, trying to manage the most menacing look you could muster.

“Moon-letters can only be revealed by the moon at a certain time”

“Okay… but what does my prophecy have anything to do with you? I get it, my father gave it to you because of his prophecy but…” How am I going to say this without sounding like I don’t have manners? “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me that is related to it. Maybe something you want to know about it?”

“There is only something I want to be sure of.” He replied after taking a pause to think on what to say. Shaking his head, he continued “Regarding your prophecy, yes. But for that to happen, we have to go somewhere else that is not here.”

“Well, where are we supposed to go then?” You asked, folding the paper back and hiding it inside your sleeve, apprehensively imagining that you would have to go somewhere else, again. Further away from where you were born and raised, again.

“Our destination is Rivendell.”

#bb writes #thorin x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader

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snorlaxlovesme · 3 years

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you’d come over, right?

Ronan's world ended months ago, when the person he loved most left without a goodbye. And now, with the actual apocalypse on his doorstep, coping isn't coming easy.

Pynch. Angst. (With a happy ending. Ish.) ~3k words

Sometimes you listen to sad pop songs and get inspired to burn down the entire world in the TRC/Dreamer Trilogy franchise just for the sole purpose of pynch reunion hugs. That’s normal, right?

(note: this fic is unrelated to the plot of the Dreamer Trilogy, this apocalypse was not caused by Ronan Lynch)

AO3 link

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The earth vibrated beneath Ronan’s feet, and he knew he didn’t have much time. The goats were still in the fields and the pole barn was still open and his car was still parked in the driveway and none of that should have mattered. But during the goddamn apocalypse he didn’t know what to do, so he grabbed two pygmy goats by the horns and dragged them towards the second barn, trying not to look at the blood red sky or the smoke coming from the east. They kicked viciously and shrieked in fear, chilling Ronan to the bone. While he knew it wouldn’t do them any good, the barn would not save them from the impending doom raining down on them, he chucked them in the pen with the rest of them and ran back to the fields for more.

He was alone. Opal was in Lindenmere right now, which might be safer, maybe, and Declan and Matthew were in D.C. He hadn’t heard from them in days, so for all he knew they could already be—

He grabbed more goats.

The air crackled with an electric charge that could have meant an oncoming thunderstorm, because of course there’d be a storm, and Ronan hastened his wrangling, feeling the goats’ animal terror almost more strongly than his own. The least he could do was get them inside. It was better than nothing. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck despite the cold wind whipping around him, and he grabbed the last goat, a small thing frozen in petrified fear. He gathered her in his arms and wished he could do more to help. Murmuring words of encouragement to a fucking goat, he ran back to the second barn and put her with the others, locking the metal pin on their enclosure and looking at them for what was probably the last time before running back outside.

After shutting up the pole barn (it would do them no good) Ronan raced towards his car. There was no point to any of this, but the panic igniting his nerves was causing his mind to do stupid shit, like desperately saving goats or refusing to leave his father’s car in the driveway when ground was shaking as badly as it was. He could barely stay on his feet as he tried to navigate the crushed gravel path to the car. He needed to get it into the garage, then everything would be in its place when the ground finally split, or the lighting struck, or the sulfurous smell of fire finally approached the house. His life would end full of regrets, things he could never hope to change now, but the least he could do was move the damn car.

He ripped open the driver’s side door and slammed it closed. It was quieter inside, without the reedy screeching of the wind, and somehow that made it worse. If the sky wasn’t pulsing like a punctured artery he could almost convince himself that this wasn’t happening. That Ronan was tumbling into this car with another body, hot and heady with lust and laughing when he hit his head on the visor like he always did. Ronan had spent months trying to forget rolling down blue coveralls and the smell of gasoline mixed with sweat, but what is certain death without painful flashbacks? He threw the car into reverse and let them play out, knowing that it would be the last time.

The painfully attractive snickering as he tried to pull legs from oil-stained pantlegs, the “What’re you doin’ down there? I thought you were good at this” because the asshole loved making fun of him and loved torturing him with his Henrietta accent in the worst possible moments. Car sex is something that should never be allowed outside of movies; there’s no room and it hurts your neck and your stupid boyfriend will spend the next three months poking fun at you for wanting it before leaving in the dead of night for Harvard and never coming back.

Not the most eloquent of goodbyes, but it wasn’t the most eloquent of fights that caused him to leave either. Selfishness is what it came down to, from both of them, like it always did. When you can’t see why something so unimportant to you could mean the world to someone else, how could you possibly expect a relationship like that to last?

Something under the car bumped and Ronan gripped the gearshift tighter. Maybe he didn’t have time for regrets right now.

Jesus fucking Christ, for all the time he spent dreaming this place into fantastical perfection, he never bothered to put an automatic opener on the garage door. Ronan tore out of the car and grabbed at the tiny handle at the bottom of the garage door and pulled. Nothing.

The key. The goddamned key. It was back in the house.

He was sprinting again, to the farmhouse this time, tripping over his own feet when the ground pitched and shifted. What normally looked like an idyllic country home now looked marred with horror. The earthquakes had shattered two of the windows. The wind had ripped away at the shutters that he didn’t even bother to close. The swelling storm clouds gathering behind it in the distance were coming closer. He wished he would have paid more attention to how the house looked before this. Ronan Lynch, known for his attention and care in the details, for dreaming up perfect facsimiles of objects beyond anything the human mind could comprehend, had never given proper attention to the way the front door of his childhood house looked in the light of the golden sun, and he regretted it now as the sky painted his house a dismal burgundy, the sun long gone in favor of a crime scene.

The house was dark, not that he expected any different. The power was the first thing to go, the first sign of the end of times. Because of course electricity is the thing people cared about most. They dismissed the shaking ground along no perceivable fault line just fine, rolled their eyes as twisters ripped their way through the most populated metropolitan areas, but when the blackout happened it’s like everyone knew.

If Ronan could dream up power for the whole world to get back on its feet again, he would’ve. But all he had instead was this: a dreamt phone with unlimited battery life that was just about as useful as a normal fucking flashlight. He unlocked the screen for the millionth time and wished that a call would come through, a text, anything, but it remained miserably silent. No power equaled no working towers. Not that he’d be getting any calls regardless. He’d burned too many bridges for goodbyes at this point.

He turned on the flashlight feature and swung the beam of light around the living room, searching for the key to the garage. A loud BANG caused him to flinch instinctively. Debris was hitting the siding on the house. God, he hadn’t even shut the door to the BMW before coming here. It could be smashed to bits now for all he knew. This was pointless. But it was all Ronan had, so he searched for the stupid key. He scraped furniture legs on the hardwood floor and ripped cushions from couches, a human disaster blowing through before anything outside could wreak havoc on this place. It made sense that the final moments he had in here would be destruction. Lynches were best at that.

The outside world howled away, and Ronan wished for one more moment of peaceful quiet. He missed this place at its most serene, right before sunrise when he was gearing up for chores in the Barns. He missed the morning coffee, pressed shoulder to shoulder kitchen, the “there’s a Starbucks in town, you know” and the “yours is better” conversations whispered as they gazed out the window and watched the steam rise from the fields. That could have meant “I can’t afford Starbucks coffee” but Ronan always took it to mean “I can’t afford to miss out on mornings with you,” whether that was the intention or not.

But even that couldn’t last, not with Lynch Destruction running through his veins, proud and true. Soon morning coffee turned to shouting matches over dinner. “Your dreams are what make you special” became “You have to face reality, Ronan,” and that just wasn’t a problem he could fix with another dreamt gift. So he didn’t fix it. His father taught him to hit where it would hurt the most, and without laying a single finger on that perfect head he dealt the finishing blow.

“For someone so worldly you don’t seem to have a hard time mooching off of me,” he’d parsed evenly, knowing that a controlled tone would mean more than a shout. And it did. The headlights of the shitbox shined through their bedroom window as it backed out of the driveway for the final time that night, and Ronan watched it leave without a word.

Another bang, quieter this time, came from the front door, startling Ronan. Maybe the twisters would take him out before the fires could. Maybe his house would collapse before he could see the sky open up and lightning rain down. Trying to pinpoint when it was going to end was almost worse than the actual ending, in a way. He knew that better than most.

The door bang ed again, and the flashlight beam finally illuminated the garage key, dangling from a Harvard lanyard, of all fucking things, hung on a hook in the kitchen. If he got the car in the garage, everything would be fine. Then he could die peacefully amongst the rubble, knowing he had checked off his final inane task on his apocalypse to-do list.

He ripped open the front door, keys in hand, and almost ran straight into Adam Parrish, hand raised like he was going to continue politely knocking even as the world crashed down around him.

“Parrish?” Ronan asked, skidding almost cartoonishly to a stop. This wasn’t real. Of all the unreal things that had happened today, Adam Parrish standing on his front porch was the unreal-est.

His colorless hair was whipped into a frenzied mess from the aggressive gales. His faded Harvard sweatshirt was mucked and ripped. And his face. Ronan never thought he’d see it again, and here it was in front of him, expression bleak and desperate and just as shocked to see Ronan as Ronan was to see him.

“What are you—” was all he could utter before Adam was crushing Ronan to him, pulling him into a hug that cracked all his ribs, squeezed and splattered his heart. He had no words because he had no air, and Ronan decided he didn’t need it. Oxygen was pointless if it meant leaving Adam’s arms.

“I saw the BMW,” Adam said breathlessly in his ear. “You left the doors open and the house looked so fucking dark and I thought—I thought maybe you’d already—that I wasn’t fast enough—”

He pulled back and gripped Ronan’s face in his hands, the motion rough in execution when it probably should have been tender. It had been months. They were both out of practice with gentleness. But Ronan forgave him. He forgave him he forgave him he forgave him for every bad thing he had ever done.

“What are you doing here?” Ronan asked, still breathless, still marveling at the hands that held him and the eyes cutting through him.

Adam let out a surprised laugh. Of all things, he laughed, still holding onto Ronan’s cheeks tighter than he would have months ago, back when he still called Ronan sweetheart , before he called him fucking asshole and left him behind. They were horrible to each other, but Ronan forgave him for it all. He wanted to wrap that laugh around him like a blanket to stave off the oncoming doom.

“Have you seen what’s going on outside?” Adam said, still laughing.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Ronan said stupidly. His mind was still reeling from Adam’s presence, his heart drunk on the feeling of his calloused hands.

“Traffic was a fucking nightmare,” Adam said, and it began to sink in that amidst the chaos of, well, everything, Adam was here. He’d come back.

“Parrish,” he said. “Adam. Why—”

“Are you stupid?” Adam interrupted. Not cruelly, but angry all of a sudden, laughter gone. It seemed it was finally sinking in for him too. He was looking at the ruined Barns around them like this mess was all Ronan’s fault. “God, Ronan, you didn’t even close the shutters. Are you even taking this seriously? Do you see what’s happening? If I’d come any later you could have already been dead , do you get that?”

“Why, though?” Ronan asked. “Why did you even come all this way?”

The smell of smoke was getting stronger. The fires. He’d cleared away as much of the brush as he could around the farm, but the wind could easily carry the embers to the house. Ronan hoped the world could wait one more goddamn minute before killing him. One more minute to hear this answer.

Half of him expected another fight. They were good at that. Their friendship was built on fights so he didn’t know why he’d expected their relationship to be any different. It was all they did at the end of it, the real end of the world, the one that ended with the screen door slamming shut in the middle of the night and one half of their bed sitting vacant.

But the other half of him expected sarcasm. I left my last will and testament here and didn’t want to die without my affairs in order. They never did feelings right. If everything wasn’t wrapped up in five layers of bullshit and jokes then it wasn’t worth saying at all. The sky was falling and the fires were closing in on The Barns and Adam Parrish was impossibly here, so it only made sense for Ronan’s life to end with one final punchline.

But Adam didn’t say anything. He took his hands from Ronan’s face and brought them to his waist, thumbs resting on his hip bones delicately. His freckled face looked wrecked with an emotion that Ronan couldn’t place, but the sight of it made him want to cry.

“I had to.”

He closed his eyes when Adam kissed him, the hearth in his chest flickering with warmth for the first time since Ronan made the decision not to go after Adam that night. He let himself be kissed like they were 18 and still madly in love. Like they had actually been meant for each other. Like he was worth coming back to.

The crack of thunder made them flinch.

“We should go inside,” Adam whispered against Ronan’s lips. Ronan could have told him that the feeble walls weren’t going to protect them. The end wasn’t far off now, whatever that end may be, and the farmhouse protected them just as much as the now goat-less field could have. But he didn’t. He pulled Adam into the house, and wrapped his arms around him, breathing in the scent of him and wishing that the apocalypse wasn’t the only thing that could bring them back together. I love you could have fixed this. Or, even better, I’m sorry.

But this was good, too. Adam’s hands roved up and down Ronan’s body as his tongue traced his bottom lip, and Ronan imagined what would have been. If he had been smarter, if he had been kinder, if he had been less stubborn and had run after Adam that night. If he had taken the keys from his hands and told him that he’d work harder to be more understanding. To rely less on dreams and more on the concrete. He’d tell Adam that he didn’t mean any of that shit he’d said, that he had never said anything more untrue. It would have all led to this, probably.

He could have gone on kissing Adam until the world ended (a few more minutes give or take), but there was something else he wanted to do. Slowly untangling himself from Adam, he led him by the hand to the kitchen, guiding himself through the house one last time by touch. The fingertips of his left hand grazed over wooden chairs and countertops while the fingers of his right entwined with Adam’s, warm and solid. When Adam saw him begin stoking the wood stove, he let out that surprised laugh again, bewilderment in his voice.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but we don’t have a lot of time,” he said to Ronan. The wind was a monster outside, tearing down trees and threatening to rip the siding right off the house. Ronan ignored it.

“We have a little time.”

Something that had been knocked askew inside of him for months had finally settled back into place, and he wasn’t afraid anymore. Adam watched as he poured water into a tin kettle and placed it on the stove, the light reflecting in his eyes. It would be the last time he would do this, the last time he would do anything, probably, and he wanted the last thing on his apocalypse to-do list to matter. So Ronan pulled Adam’s favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink, the one that could have been smashed by the earthquakes or Ronan’s own anger but had survived despite the potential destruction of this house. He threw a few filters on top of the pot and looked to Adam, waiting for him to take the cue to search the pantry for the dark roast they both liked. Adam smirked at him as he passed the can of grounds to him, an expression that Ronan should have taken the time to appreciate before, when he had the time.

Ronan took the kettle from the fire and let a stream of hot water soak the grounds suspended above the pot in the shittiest version of pour-over coffee in the world. But none of that mattered after he’d finally given Adam his mug. He watched Adam breathe it in before taking a drink.

“This really is better than Starbucks, you know,” Adam said after a moment, mug still held close to his face.

Ronan barked out a laugh that almost drowned out the whistling of the wind outside. A long sip from his own mug told Ronan that the coffee tasted just as awful as it always had, but the smell of it masked the smoke from outside, and Adam’s smile masked just about every other bad thing in the entire stupid world. So Ronan sidled up beside him, pressed shoulder to shoulder, and let himself enjoy the simple pleasure of enjoying coffee with the person he loved one last time. The pole barn was probably gone by now, the BMW blown halfway across the state, but Ronan had this. Adam snaked an arm around his shoulders and Ronan let out a shaking breath.

He had this.

Ronan had Adam.

#pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #the raven cycle #the dreamer trilogy #my writing #trc fic

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mlkytobio · 4 years

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loving isn’t easy, but it’s bearable with you

a/n: for the cheese cult fic event <3 i tried my best lol

genre: little bit of angst if you squint + fluff // hanahaki au

warning: mentions of blood, but nothing too graphic

pairing: nishinoya x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

the hanahaki disease was something that everyone knew of. there were people covered head to toe in flowers, each one a reminder of a time where they had loved. and then there were the few lucky ones, the ones who just happened to have their soulmate as their first love. the ones with only a small flower tattoo over one of their body parts.

everyone covered all over with tattoos always knew that it was harmless at first, little flower petals being spat out, and then becoming thorns that scratch the inside of your throat as they come up. the process of coughing out the flowers was always quick, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. more often than not, blood comes out with the flowers and thorns. it depends though, on the type of love.

you had fallen in love exactly three times. and for one of those three times, you had a trail of forget-me-nots trailing up your right forearm. for the memories of true love, and like the name suggested, “do not forget me”. for the time you had loved miya osamu and he loved you back, and it only ended because you had to move to miyagi. maybe there were more reasons for it, but it was a mutual agreement. he was your first love.

terushima yuuji was your second love. and as a result, tulips bloomed across your left wrist, for unrequited love. and it was also the first thing people see when they looked at you. because well, the flower was highlighted with red, like blood, almost. maybe it was a little cliche, for you to have fallen in love with johzenji’s resident playboy. but you couldn’t help it. every little smile he sent you while from his usual seat at the cafe you worked at, every brush of your fingers against his when you went to take his order sending electricity running up your spine.

with osamu, it had been small flower petals and smiles about the flowers that came tumbling out. sometimes you even saved the flowers, but they wilted soon after. still, before you knew that osamu felt the same way,the coughing out the flowers wasn't painful. but why was it with terushima? there were thorns sitting in the bathroom sink, crimson red pooling all around them. and it only got worse after that.

still, you fell in love with terushima yuuji. you fell for his smirk and his tongue piercing and his sly words. and when he walked into the cafe that day, he broke your heart, having a girl draped on his arm and she looked at him the way you thought you looked at him. he broke your heart unknowingly, perhaps, but it was heartbreak all the same. you half expected it, but there was a part of you that hoped, nevertheless, that he would feel the same way.

that day, you coughed out tulips among pools of blood, and it was in the same night that you chose to go get the surgery. you knew you were one of the more privileged to get the surgery, and it was foolish to waste it on a teenager’s stupid crush. but it was better to have others look at you with pity. maybe it was a little dramatic, but you knew you were doomed from the start. this only gave you more reason to do it.

the doctor had given you a look of pity, but everyone did. everyone saw the way you looked at terushima yuuji and felt nothing but pity. and if that doctor expected a story, he had to wait a damn long time for it.

it didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to. just prickling along the skin, and then when you looked down, your left forearm was covered in blood-red tulips. maybe it didn’t hurt because the thorns had hurt more. the unrequited love hurt much more than getting your lungs pried open than living with thorns creeping up your throat every single day for the rest of your life, knowing that once upon a time you were stupid enough to fall in love with terushima yuuji.

everyone at karasuno knew you as the girl who couldn’t live with her love anymore. the girl who squandered away her privilege for the surgery for a mere high school crush.

the volleyball team were the first people who understood your decision. the first people who didn’t talk about you behind your back about how you wasted your probably only chance of getting the surgery and how you were a spoiled brat that deserved the pain anyways. you had heard of every single rumour that people spread about you, and although you tried to ignore them, they were like a thousand little knives cutting into your back every single day.

the volleyball team was where you felt at home. the sleek wood floor of the gym and the frequent shout, mostly from kageyama to hinata. there was some sort of solace in the walls of the gym, almost like it was its own little world set apart from all the rumours on the outside.

becoming their manager was one of the best choices you ever made.

“y/l/n! come and see my new move!” you looked over to nishinoya, his blond tuft of hair slicked against his forehead. you smiled to yourself, knowing that it was probably some other variation of rolling thunder or of the sort. still, it was one of the things you loved most about practice, the players’ enthusiasm and desire to win was forever unwavering.

nishinoya received the ball in a sort of speed that made you dizzy when you first saw it, but even after so long your eyes could only adjust slightly to it. he’s grinning, and you couldn’t help but give a smile back, because it’s nishinoya yuu and his energetic self that could put everyone to shame.

you never paid much attention to nishinoya yuu. sure, he got suspended from the volleyball club for a month for breaking something, but you saw what happened. you saw that he didn’t mean to, that he was just trying to get his friend back. the blond tuft in his hair was the first thing you saw when you first stepped into the classroom, but still, you never stopped and looked at him carefully. until you joined the volleyball club as a manager, and then suddenly you see the bright energy surrounding the short libero, and wondered how exactly did you not notice him before.

you chalked it up to curiosity, to the strange spike of his hair and the way a room lit up somehow when he walked into it.this boy was like the sun, too bright for his own good and probably burns anyone who got too close.

practices only made you notice him more, of course. and maybe he noticed you too, from all the little smiles that looked like they were directed at you and the glances he kept giving you.

to most people, flowers were things of beauty, but to you, they represented a dark time. they represented getting your heart broken and the person who broke it didn’t even know. love was the same, crushing and suffocating you, and the two just so happened to be linked. every flower you saw, especially tulips, made you turn away at the sight. so did love.

love was a curious little thing, taunting you and when it pulled you in, only then will it reveal itself to be deadly. coiling around you, your heart, more like it, and every waking thought, like some sort of boa. it suffocates you, then brings you down with it.

nishinoya yuu heard about you before he even met you. about the girl who had red tulips imprinted on her skin, basically a form of public shaming. he never thought about you as someone who wasted away their chances, though. everyone had heard of at least one story where because of love, people had squandered away their lives, and he was no exception. your life was more precious than some unrequited love, so what was wrong with getting the surgery? he had never understood why people held a grudge against you, and so did the rest of the volleyball team.

most of the second years walked home together, and you were in front of nishinoya when he suddenly grabbed onto your shoulders and started jumping up and down in the air. you saw him doing this before, but with other members of the team, and your first thought was: why did he have so much strength?

“oi, noya! don’t be so hard on our manager!” tanaka laughed, and noya’s hands released their grip on your shoulders, his face cherry red. you found it a little cute, actually, if it weren’t for the ache in your shoulders from how tightly he had held on to them.

“i’m so sorry y/n-san!” he sputtered out, even as you said that it was fine, you weren’t injured, but as he kept apologising, all you could say in that moment was “okay, then i’ll let you make it up to me.”

his head lifted up, eyes filled with something indescribable, as he agreed. “i promise you that i’ll make it up to you, y/l/n-san! i’ll take you out on saturday!”

a flower petal was floating in his teacup when he sat it down. you looked at him, surprised, but stayed silent, giving him a napkin. he looked at you with a grateful look in his eyes, the tuft of blond hair being swept to the back as he ran his fingers through his hair.

it was spring in japan, when all the sakura flowers started blooming and there were couples all around you. you never liked spring, or maybe you did, and the hanahaki just made you despise it. anything related to flowers you didn’t like, you realised.

“do you know who is it?” you gently asked as both of you walked down the street together. the pink flowers were everywhere, on the cobblestone path that your shoes scuffed against, and on the tall trees looming over you. he looked at you then, slightly surprised, but answered it anyway.

“i think so, i mean, i have a vague idea of who it is,” he gave a reply that was strange of nishinoya, but perhaps it was due to the fact you weren’t that close with him as you were with maybe tanaka, or ennoshita.

“well, i hope they feel the same way,” you gave him a small smile, and he returned it, but there was something lurking deeper in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

he walked you home, and when you were about to say goodbye, his gaze fixated on you, as if there was something he wanted to say but didn’t want to.

you were about to ask what was it when he yelled out, “y/l/n-san, i like you!”

how ironic, was the first thing that went through your mind. how ironic that you were intrigued by him and now here he was, confessing to you. how ironic it was that this exact scene gave you deja vu, of when you confessed to osamu. how ironic it was that when the thing you tried so hard to avoid doing turned into you being on the receiving end of it. falling in love.

“i-i’m sorry, nishinoya-kun, but i don’t really want to fall in love right now,” the words left your lips before your mind could even register them. his face fell at that, and you wished you could take it all back, say that you would give him a chance, but all he said was “that’s okay! i hope you can reconsider. have a good night y/l/n-san!”

you watched his figure retreat into the shadows, until all you could see was the faint outline of him walking. you thought about his words, and of a time you loved terushima yuuji. the memories of that were laced with regret, but then again, when you loved him, and osamu at that, all you could feel was pure euphoria. the climax of a roller coaster ride, when you’re tipping at the top and it felt like forever before it made its decent again.

hoodies weren’t your favourite piece of clothing, but they made well for covering the red ink on your forearm. as you pulled the hood over your head again, hoping to cover your face, you heard the familiar jeer. it wasn’t foreign for you to have insults hurled wherever you go, only for the person who shouted them to disappear into the crowd when you looked over your shoulder. and so, you always said to yourself not to look. it was better not to place a face to the voice.

“attention-seeking bitch,” you heard someone mutter, followed by the laughing. don’t look, don’t look, was all you thought as you made your way through the crowd in the hallways.

“i hope whoever you ‘loved’ is dating someone much better and more deserving right now,” was one of the more prominent insults that were in your range of hearing. gasping to yourself, you felt an empty ache in your chest, probably where your feelings had been. still, it hurt. it hurt for people to not understand your decision, for them to constantly belittle and insult you as if pain was something to be made fun of. you felt blood rushing in your ears, vision growing blurry as you tried to walk, run, even, out of that hellhole. throat constricting and breathing growing ragged.

“stop!” you heard someone say. you only increased your pace. “stop it, right now. all of you.”

it wasn’t directed at you, but to the people crowding around you. “it’s not funny to ridicule someone who has been through pain,” you recognised the voice this time. the voice of the person who constantly shouted excitedly in practice, even at the smallest things. nishinoya yuu.

he walked over to you, placing his hands lightly on your shoulders as he led you away from the gaping students. “if you feel uncomfortable, i’ll stop right now,” he whispered, just loud enough for your ears to pick up. you shook your head, the only thing you could muster then.

he led you to an isolated space behind the gym, where only then did you release your tears. and he was there, not uttering a single word, just silent companionship, and that was enough.

as you regained your breath, a single flower petal floated delicately out of your lips. he noticed it too.

“thank you, nishinoya-kun,” you said, gaze not leaving the flower as it sailed on the wind. no blood or thorns, though, you thought.

“i feel like the word love has been taken out of definition with me,” you whispered. “but i want to give you a chance, at changing the definition with me.”

he smiled at you, his hands on your shoulder once again. “i’d like that.”

the sakura flowers were in bloom yet again, and for once, you found them beautiful.

“do you remember-” the boy started, but you cut him off.

“when you took me out as an apology for jumping on my shoulders? yeah,” you grinned.

“i always thought you were beautiful, you know. and never understood why you got made fun of for choosing to have the surgery,” he said.

“well, i’m glad they did. it led me to you, didn’t it?” you smiled at him.

his hand found yours, and the two of you walked down the same cobblestone path you did a year ago. maybe love wasn’t easy, but there were some people that made it bearable. like nishinoya yuu.

and that was the third time you fell in love.

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