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jolienjoyswriting · 1 year

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Functional Completeness, Ch. I

Chapter 1 of 2 for "Functional Completeness," Essence of Ragnarok story. Co-written by AI Dungeon (Griffin)

Joseph drives a friend home… and finds out she has an ulterior motive for asking him to.

Word count: 2,414 – Character count: 14,089 Drafted: March 26th / 27th, 2023 Revised: March 27th / 28th, 2023 –

This was something I wanted to do because of how the other story turned out. Honestly, these two deserve each other. Neither of them can catch a break…

Hope, Joseph Lithius, "Essence of Ragnarok", and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li

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"Um… hi, Joseph! I was wondering… would you pick me up from work, please?" "I… uh, sure? Any particular re–" "Thanks! See you later!"

That was the confusing conversation Joseph had with his friend Hope in the afternoon, some sunny day. He was tempted to call back and ask for clarification, but he decided to just give the girl what she wanted. And so, when 6 PM rolled around that day… he was there, parked near the entrance of Masamune General Hospital, waiting for her to appear.

"Hi, Joseph!" The fox perked, looking over at his passenger side door. Hope had opened it and started climbing inside his car. She was dressed in her usual clothes – a cap, a T-shirt, shorts, and boot shoes. He was… a little disappointed that she wasn't in her nurse outfit, somehow.

"Hey," he greeted as she buckled in. "What–" "Drive me home, please!" she cheerfully requested, cutting him off. "O-okay…" With that, he put his car into gear and they were off.

"So… what's wrong with your truck?" Joseph asked once they were a couple of kilometers away from Hope's workplace. "What?" Hope gave him an odd look. "There's something wrong with my truck?" "You're not driving it home, so I figured–" "Oh! I just…" She paused. "I haven't had time to go back to Carlos' place and get it!" The fox tilted his head. "You didn't leave it at Carlos' place…" he commented. "I didn't…?" The girl giggled. "Well, I guess I won't be going over there to find it!" The corner of her companion's mouth curled uncomfortably. "What–" "I took public transit to work," she interrupted again. "I didn't feel like driving." "Alright. But… you could've taken public transit back home…" When Hope didn't answer, the fox finally glanced her way. She was looking out the window, her arm on the armrest with her chin resting on her hand. Was she ignoring him…? "Hope?" he called. "What's going on?" "I just wanted to spend some more time with my favorite fox, is all!" She turned her head his way, offering a sweet smile. "That's okay… right?" The almost nervous way she asked made Joseph feel bad. He nodded, causing the girl to smile more brightly. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. "I mean that…" "Mm."

The drive to Hope's apartment was a relatively quiet one. Joseph had more questions, but he got the feeling his friend wasn't in the mood for an inquiry, so he focused on the road, instead. Not long after… "Welcome to my place!" They arrived at Hope's place of residence.

After parking, Joseph found himself greeted by an underwhelming sight. From the look of things, his nurse friend lived in a somewhat run-down, ground-level, one-story apartment complex that had maybe four flats total. She was quick to escort him to her door – Apartment 4, the one farthest from the parking area – and let him inside. "Make yourself at home!" Hope said as she hung her scarf on a hook near the door. "Would you like something to drink? Or something to eat?" "Not right now," Joseph commented as he closed the door behind them. He was more focused on the apartment itself… Hope's apartment could be described in one word: "compact". It was a very standard two-room, one-bath affair. The bedroom and living room were next to each other, as was the bathroom. There was also a small kitchen hanging off to the side from the door with compact versions of the usual appliances. It kind of reminded Joseph of some apartments he was looking into before he and Kris got a house together.

"Nice place," the fox said, watching Hope walk toward the back. "Thank you!" she said with another soft laugh. "Hey, follow me?" "Follow you?" "Yeah!" She waved a hand her way before repeating: "Follow me!" "Al… right?" Joseph followed behind the excited android girl, wondering what she had in mind. He knew there was only one other room of note in her place… a somewhat private room. Was this a booty call after all? he wondered to himself.

"So, here's my room!"

The bedroom was pretty standard, Joseph noted as the girl led him inside. It had a closet, a bed made for one person, and a nightstand to one side which had a bright alarm clock on it. He also noticed some posters on the walls of what appeared to be wizards, dragons, and princesses. "You're into fantasy stuff?" he asked. "Yeah!" she answered with a giggle. "I love fantasy novels! I've been reading a series written by that cool author, Serenade Rankins, that…" The girl trailed off… then she offered her guest a small smile. "Come sit with me?" she offered.

Joseph blanched and blinked. Things did seem to be going the way he assumed they would… As he hesitated, Hope's smile became a worried frown. "Please?" she asked with pleading eyes. "You okay, Hope?" the fox said as he walked over to her bed. "You're acting… weird." "Mm… I just wanted some company," she whispered, eyes lowering. "If– if you have somewhere you need to be…" "No," he answered. "Not really." The girl's smile returned as he sat on her bed. She sat next to him, then, and wrapped her arm around one of his, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. "Is something wrong?" Joseph repeated. "No…" she happily sighed. "Not anymore…"

Things were a little awkward in that one-bedroom apartment. For some reason, Hope wasn't saying anything. She was just clinging to Joseph's arm and resting her heavy head on his shoulder. He didn't mind, particularly… He liked Hope! She was sweet and honest, not to mention pretty cute. He just wondered why she was acting the way she was…

"Joseph?" He perked. "Yeah?" "Do you want to make love to me?" The fox jolted. She really had made a "booty call"! "Do you… want me to wanna make love with you?" he awkwardly answered. "I… do!" Hope said after a small delay. "I want you to want to make love to me!" "Hope?" He leaned back, turning his head to the girl. "Are you sure you're okay…?" "I just… have a lot on my mind," she replied with a small smile. "I'm looking for a distraction… and I was hoping to find one in you!" "I dunno…" Joseph answered. "I dunno what's going on or what's going through your head right now… and that worries me." The girl flinched as he reached up and gently caressed her cheek. "If something's bothering you…" he said before letting the thought fade. "O-oh, no!" she cried with a bashful smile. "You're fine!" "I didn't figure the problem was with me…" Joseph sighed, rubbing her cheek with a thumb. "It just seems like something's really bothering you…" She looked into his eyes… then she reluctantly nodded. "And… you think having sex with me is gonna help?" "Well…" She shyly smiled as she joked, "It couldn't hurt… Right?"

"Hope," he sighed, "how am I supposed to know? I'm not a mind-reader… I don't even know what's got you so frazzled… I'm not real good at reading people, either, so…" He leaned back in, resting his forehead to hers and keeping his gaze on her pretty eyes. "You might have to spell it out for me before I can help fix things." "'Help fix things…'" she quietly repeated. "It seems like I always need fixing…" His ears shot back. "I– I didn't mean it that way, Hope…!" "Yeah," she answered without emotion. "I know." He looked away. "I'm sorry…" She smiled, not saying another word. Instead… she simply leaned in and kissed him.

Joseph slowly breathed through his nose as Hope slid her arms around his shoulders. His eyes fluttered shut and his arms found a place around her middle. It wasn't long before he scooted closer and started kissing back. Her lips tasted like strawberries and her warm breath tickled his chin. It felt… good. But more than that, it felt right.

"That was… random," he whispered after the kiss. Hope nervously giggled and her body wiggled. She seemed amused by his reaction. "What brought that on?" the fox quietly asked, nuzzling her cheek. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just felt like it… Is… is that okay?" "Of course." He smiled. "Feelings are kinda unpredictable, huh?" "I guess so," she sighed, resting her head on his chest. "So…? Did kissing me help you feel better?" was the question he asked as he ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "Maybe…!" she chipperly replied with a warmer kind of smile. "I like it when you smile…" he said, leaning back to take in her smiling face. She giggled a little. There was a twinkle in her eyes. "Hey, Hope…" he said, getting her attention. "I want you to let me take care of you," She leaned back, looking surprised. "Wh-what?" "Whenever you're having a bad day… or when something's going wrong… or even if you just, like, want some company and a cuddle… I want you to call on me. I'm almost always available, and really… you'd be doing me a favor by calling me over." He grinned, wagging his tail. "I have a thing for cuties with green eyes…" "Oh, gosh…" If Hope could blush, she definitely would have. "So? When something's got you down, let's do that." He smiled. "Sound good?" She nodded, leaning in closer and closing her eyes. "So…" he continued, "what's on your mind?" "Carlos…"

Joseph nodded. "That makes sense…" "Yeah…" "I don't guess you two are gonna be so close, now, since you… uh…" The girl winced. She still felt bad about punching Carlos… even if he did deserve it. "How's your hand, by the way?" "Oh!" She sat up with a smile. "I had it repaired the other day by… um…" The girl paused… then she leaned in, practically pushing the fox down and getting closer. "A specialist," she continued in a somewhat stiff tone. "It, um… it wasn't cheap, so that's on my mind, too…" "Do you need money?" The fox shuffled down, lying on his back. "I can loan you some, but I'm sort of tapped out 'til–" "N-no!" she yelped, sitting up with a start. "I-I mean… no, no…" "Hope?" He chuckled, his tail flicking. "It's no big deal… It's just money." "I can pay for my own repairs!" When Joseph flinched, Hope realized just how forcefully she had objected. "I… I can pay for my own repairs," she repeated in a calmer voice. "Th… thank you." The man tilted his head, watching his companion settle back down on him. When she pressed her ear against his chest, he softly inhaled, exhaled, then closed his eyes, stroking her head and wondering what the heck was wrong with her. She was acting very jumpy…

"Joseph?" "Yes?" There was a pause. And then… "I want you to make love with me." The fox's eyes opened. Hope was hovering over him with a determined look on her face. "You… still wanna make love?" he echoed, softly blushing under his fur. "W-with me?" "Yes," she said, "I do." Joseph sat up on his arms, giving the girl a curious look. "Why?" he asked. "Because I want to!" she exclaimed with a bright, ear-to-ear kind of smile. "Okay, but… any particular reason?" he asked, a bit put out. "Do I need a reason?" she sighed, her smile fading a little. "You're nice and I like you, so I want you to make love to me! Is that so weird?" "I feel like there's gotta be more to it than that…" "Like what?" she pressed, starting to lose patience. "I… I dunno…" He bit his lip. "I know we had sex a few days ago and all, but…" He blinked. Hope had taken a sudden interest in her closet door… "Hope?" "I…" She paused. "I want you to make me yours."

The sudden revelation completely threw Joseph for a loop. He stared in surprise, his fur frizzing up, his face red underneath the fur, and his eyes wide. Hope, meanwhile, continued to stare at her closet door. She seemingly had no interest in looking his way. "What?" At least, not until he spoke up.

Hope turned back his way, her face becoming determined again. "Make me yours, Joseph!" she requested. "I want to be yours and yours alone!" Joseph's face turned bright red. He was blushing through his fur! "D… didn't I, already?" he nervously joked. "That evening at the ho–" "No, I…" She huffed. "I pushed you into it. I want you to want me! I want you to make me yours all of your own volition! Please, do this for me…" "Th-this is kinda sudden…" he nervously laughed. "Are you su–" "I-is this weird…? Am I doing this wrong…?" The fox blinked. Hope had sat up, suddenly looking nervous… "I'm… I'm not very good at this stuff…" she confessed, holding her hands at chest level and looking away again. "I've read plenty of romance novels and watched several movies where characters court each other… It… it usually becomes very complicated!" The girl closed her eyes, pressing her closed hands together. "I… don't know if I'm supposed to act a certain way, but…" She finally looked back over, her eyes practically sparkling. "I know how I feel! The way you made me feel when we made love in the hospital… I… I've never felt that way before. Something happened, Joseph! Something magical…"

Joseph swallowed hard as Hope took his hands into hers. He couldn't help but look into her eyes… which were becoming shiny with held-back tears. "I want to be your android, Joseph," she told him without flinching. "I want to be yours and yours alone. I want you to make me yours!" She softly smiled, still looking at him with complete adoration. "Make me yours…" she whispered. "Make me your android…" The fox chewed on his lip, eyes fluttering. Hope blinked, giving him a worried look. "Please… say you'll make me yours," she whispered. "I…" He swallowed again. "Okay… I… I'll make you mine." "Really?" she asked, her face brightening. "Yeah," he replied, squeezing her hand. "Really." And just like that, the girl threw herself at the fox, locking him into a hug as she happily nuzzled his cheeks and face. At that point, all Joseph could do… was wonder just what he'd gotten himself into.

#fiction #Essence of Ragnarok #Year 2048 #Functional Completeness #original characters #Hope North #Joseph Lithius #slice of life #drama

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shedobewritingalittle · 3 years

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Liability

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader, platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The reader deals with the repercussions of Steve’s actions and death of the three people closest to her.

Rating: R

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of death, feeling alone, depression, you know the vibes

Bucky and Sam had been put in charge of making sure Y/N Stark was okay. Steve had made them promise on his deathbed that they would look after her. Of course they had agreed, not wanting to argue with a dying man. Sam and Y/N were best friends and well, Bucky had nothing else to do and he wasn't going to disobey his best friend's wishes.

Things were okay for the first month after Steve died. Well, as okay as it could be all things considered.

Bucky and Sam moved into the townhouse that Y/N had shared with Steve to make sure she was okay. It was unspoken agreement between the three of them: they were going to move in since they didn't have any other place to go and Y/N had more than enough room. She had just lost her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves so they expected her to be barely holding on, to be extremely upset-but she seemed okay. Sure there was moments were she would suddenly start crying or days were she wouldn't come out of the room she had shared with Steve, but both men had expected this. Y/N was grieving after all.

Then she told them that she was going to stay upstate with her sister-in-law and niece. Y/N missed them and wanted to make sure they were doing okay. Sam and Bucky thought nothing of this-in fact, they were happy that she wanted to see them. Her face seemed to light up when talked about her upcoming trip and both men thought that being away from the city and with her family would greatly benefit her.

Y/N had given them both a hug the day she left, telling them that she would give them a call when she had arrived at Pepper's. Nothing had seemed amiss as they had helped her fill her trunk with bags.Sam had offer to drive her, but she had insisted that she can drive upstate by herself. Y/N had looked so happy, truly happy when she climbed into the car. She had given them a huge smile as she waved, pulling away from the curb. Both men had felt so relieved, thinking that this was the best thing for her. For the first time after Steve has died, they felt like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

Y/N called later in the day when she had arrived at Pepper's. She painted a vivid picture of how excited Pepper and Morgan were to see her, how good it felt to be around her family. Y/N had even said that her and Pepper talked about Tony, which Y/N had said made her feel a lot better, made her feel not so alone. Bucky and Sam were happy and content with her situation, making her promise she'd call again.

For the first couple of weeks, she did call. Y/N always had something to tell them too. Sometimes it was her and Morgan had spent the whole day swimming in the lake or her and Pepper attempted to make some vegan sourdough bread. Y/N always sounded happy over the phone, which made Bucky and Sam think that things were looking up, that she was getting better.

And then the calls stopped.

The calls stopping wasn't an immediate cause for concern. Bucky didn't believe that Y/N, -as a grown woman-needed to check in with them every single day or every single week. Sam wasn't as so optimistic. He knew Y/N and he knew that she kept her promises. Even if she had gotten busy or was doing really good, she would have at least sent them a text. It wasn't like her to go completely dark on them. But he also know it wasn't his place to force Y/N to check in. After all, she was an adult.

And then Rhodey had called.

Sam and Rhodey didn't call each other a lot so when his name popped up on Sam's phone, the Falcon knew that this situation was serious. Sam wished for the best, hoped that Rhodey was just calling about a mission or something have to do with the government.

He wasn't so lucky.

"Hey is everything okay with Y/N? She hasn't been answering her phone." Rhodey questioned, immediately making Sam's stomach drop.

"She's upstate with Pepper. She left a month ago. I thought you knew that." Sam replied, which quickly got Bucky's attention. Bucky stood up a little straighter, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Sam, I'm upstate with Pepper and she hasn't seen Y/N since Steve's funeral." Rhodey quickly responded, following by a sigh and some muttered curse words. Sam felt sick to his stomach, bile rising up in his throat.

Rhodey explained that Y/N had been calling Pepper every day, but the calls stopped a few weeks ago. Rhodey had tried to tell her that Y/N was probably just busy, but Pepper knew something was wrong. So Rhodey had called, trying to ease Pepper's worries. Sam told him that Y/N had said she was going up to go see Pepper and Morgan. Her calls to him having stopped around the same time as her calls to Pepper did.

Y/N Stark had just vanished into thin air.

Sam knew they had to work backwards in order to find out some idea of where she was and that had led them to the closed door leading into Y/N's room. Neither of them had been on the other side of the door. It wasn't their place to go into her room, their room. Yet, seeing that no one knew where Y/N was, they didn't have much of choice.

Bucky and Sam didn't know what to expect when they walked through the white door, but they didn't expect everything to seem so...neat. Everything seemed perfect. The bed was made, clothes were neatly put away. One thing that did seem weird is that all of the pictures in the room were all laying picture side face down on the surfaces they were on. Pictures that were hanging on the walls were covered with a multitude of things-a t-shirt, a pillowcase, or a scarf. While it wasn't an immediate cause for concern, it did make both men feel incredibly uneasy. The pictures aside, everything looked normal and incredibly clean. Not a thing was out of place.

Other than her cell phone, resting on the dresser. The same phone that had been calling both Pepper and Sam.

There's one thing that remains completely consistent with the Starks and that's the fact they are both incredibly smart.

Y/N Stark had been on the run with Steve, Sam, Nat, and Wanda. She was good at hiding, amazing at it. Y/N knew that her phone could be tracked and that they would be able to see what location she was calling from. While Sam wanted to just give her the benefit of the doubt and just pretend she was hiding out on a resort somewhere, he knows better. The fact that she had created a system to talk to both Sam and Pepper using prerecorded responses hinted at something much darker-something that he tried not to think about.

After some digging and pulling some strings, Rhodey and Sam find security camera footage of Y/N buying four different bouquets. They're able to follow her car via the footage to three different cemeteries. Upon visiting each one, the three men find that she had left flowers for her parents, Tony, Natasha, and Steve. Using the time stamps on the videos, they learn that she spent almost an hour at each cemetery, with the last one being the cemetery where Steve was buried. After that, the trail went cold and they were back at square one.

Then her car was found by Rhodey, exactly halfway between the city and Pepper's home, hidden on an old stretch of road.

Every piece of luggage was perfectly in its place, exactly where Bucky and Sam had helped her put it. Her shoes that she had been wearing had been left on the passenger seat, her wallet left behind in the glovebox with not a card out of place. There was no signs of a struggle. It just look like she pulled off the the side of the road for a minute. Y/N didn't want to be found and since she didn't want to be found, she had been smart. If someone had taken her, they would have been sloppy and messed up along the way. Not Y/N. She knew better.

The people that she had left behind were at a complete lost. They were all terrified, none of them wanting to think about what might have happened to Y/N or what she was capable of. She had lost three people incredibly close to her-her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves. People have lost a lot less and done a lot worse to others and themselves.

"Is there anywhere the two of them had? Any special place they'd go?" Sam asks Pepper once all of their leads dried up. The woman is clearly distraught, wringing her hands and her eyes rimmed with red. Rhodey hadn't wanted ask Pepper, but they were left with no other option. It doesn't take long for her to answer. She must've been thinking and thinking about where her sister-in-law has gone the couple of weeks they have been looking.

"There was this little farm house an hour outside of the city that Steve kept telling her that they were going to raise a family in. It-It has a big oak tree. You can't miss it." She answers, looking up at Sam and Bucky, "Please, please find her."

Pepper was right. They couldn't miss the house.

It was an aging colonial located in the middle of nowhere, with farmland and forest surrounding it. Its white siding was covered in moss in place, making it look more green than eggshell. The wrap around porch had been ripped off in places, leaving gaps. Some of the emerald green shutters have been torn off completely or were hanging by a single hinge. Most of the windows were broken and Sam was pretty sure it was leaning to the left a little. On the second story, an entire part of the roof has caved in. The best part of the entire place was giant oak tree. It was absolutely massive-probably the biggest that either man had seen. An old tire swing hung from one of the lower branches, the rope fraying but still somehow holding on.

Bucky and Sam glance at each other before getting out of the car and walking up the gravel driveway. It was eerily quiet and everything seemed to be at a standstill out here. The porch steps creaked and felt like it was going to collapse under their feet. The porch itself was warped, some planks missing completely. Sam sighed and carefully knocked on the door, really hoping for the best. There was no response, so he tried again. When there was no answer again, Sam reached for the door knob, finding it unlocked. The door creaked open loudly and both men were prepared to see the absolute worse waiting for them inside.

Yet when Sam and Bucky step inside the house, their eyes immediately land on her.

Y/N was nestled in a nook of one of the windows that still had glass in its panels, knees drawn up into her chest. Old, moldy, and decaying furniture from decades earlier still filled the home. Mementos of someone else's family and life left behind, as if the home's inhabitants had gotten up one day and never came back. Pictures still left in their frames, their photos weathered and abandoned, It reminded Bucky of home, of the life he was ripped away from and he understands why Steve had like the house so much. It was a house that was out of place and out of time, just like the Star Spangled Man With A Plan.

"I was hoping you guys just let me be." Y/N announces, not bothering to turn her head to look at the pair. She rests her head against the window, nails digging into her calves. She was wearing a dress that was once white and the men could see her skin was littered with cuts and bruises.

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sam announces, taking a step forward. The warped wood floors creak under his weight, announcing his movement. Y/N chuckles humorlessly, her breath fogging up the dingy glass.

"He said that we were gonna buy this house. Told me that he was going to marry me and we were going to settle down. Told me that we were going to have a family together. Told me that he wanted a family. Told me that for five years." She tells them unprompted, eyes flicking down to look at her knees, "And he did want all of that. Just not with me. I was just a replacement for her."

Bucky and Sam don't know how to respond. They know that there's nothing they can do, no way that they can defend Steve for his actions. Neither of them were happy with the man abandoning his grieving girlfriend in order to live out a half-baked fantasy. Y/N knows this too, which is why she continues.

"I told him to go. I told him if that's what he wanted that he could go. Told him I was going to be okay. He had already made his mind up at that point. For some reason, I-I didn't think he'd actually leave." Her voice cracks, her cool facade crumbling. Her nails digging deep crescents into her legs, "Why-Why would he leave me? I just lost Nat and Tony and he left-"

Tears roll down her cheeks as she releases her grip on her legs, loosening her hold. Her lower lip quivers, unable to rein her emotions back in. The question wasn't for Bucky or Sam and honestly, Y/N doesn't even know who she is asking.

"My brother-My brother got his family and I-Steve kept telling me that we were going to get married and have a house full of kids." She forces the words out through the emotion, finally turning to look at Bucky and Sam, "Did you know that he and Peggy had three children together, Sam? I don't think he told you that when you got the shield."

Her eyes flick back down to look at her knees, tears rolling down her face. The house has gotten a lot colder, especially as the sky starts to darken outside. Y/N lifts her head, resting it against the frame of the window.

"I bought this house. It was going to be his Christmas present this year. A push in the right direction, if you will. Tony told me not to do it, said it was a bad idea. And he was right. He was always right." Y/N announces, a bitter laugh slipping out of her mouth, "And now I'm stuck with this fucking shithole."

For the past eight years, Y/N has been in a relationship with Steve. He was the man she loved, the man who she saw herself marrying and having children with. Y/N had turned on her brother and gone on the run with Steve, even though she knew that might cut off ties from the only family she has. When Thanos snapped his fingers and made half of the universe disappear, Y/N had clung to her boyfriend. Sure she'd go visit Tony, Pepper, and Morgan and would occasionally see Natasha, but she practically spent every waking moment with Steve. After the Snap, after she saw how happy her brother was, she knew she wanted a family. And Steve-Steve just kept telling her that they would have a family one day.

Y/N had been too distracted to see the cracks in their relationship. She was too in love with Steve to see that he hadn't loved her the same amount. Too in love to see that she was only a replacement for the woman he truly loved. When the cracks started to slip through, Y/N tried her best to fix them by making excuses. She had layered and layered excuses onto of each other in order to hold her relationship together. And while Y/N should've known better, she just didn't want to face the music and see everything for what it was.

That had worked until Natasha died, until her brother snapped his fingers. Until Steve told her that he was going to leave, not taking how she was feeling or what she was going through into consideration. Until he told her that he just didn't love her in that way. Until she had to keep how betrayed she felt to herself as she played the role of the dutiful, mournful girlfriend at his funeral. After that, everything came tumbling down around her and she was thrown back into reality.

"I told him.. told him that I wanted to end it all and he didn't care. Didn't even try to talk to me about it. Tony was the only family I've ever known and Nat was my best friend and he-he should've been there for me and he wasn't. He didn't care because he was already going to be gone. Another dead Stark didn't matter to him." Y/N turns her head and narrows her eyes at them, "That's why you two came here, isn't it? To make sure I didn't off myself?"

"We wanted to make sure you're safe-" Bucky starts, but Y/N quickly cuts him off with another bitter laugh. The super soldier glances at Sam, not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You wanted to? Don't bullshit me. You guys didn't move in with me or come to check on me because you two actually care about me. You two promised Steve that you'd watch over me, like I'm a fucking helpless child." Y/N snaps, glaring daggers at the two of them, "If he cared that much, he'd fucking be here, but he isn't. Steve made his choice and because of that, he doesn't get to have a say in my life anymore."

"Okay fine, we won't bullshit you. Yeah, he did ask us to take care of you, but you act like we weren't friends five years ago, Y/N. I have no idea what you're going through, but don't you dare act like I don't fucking care about you." Sam fires back, tears filling his eyes. More tears stream down her face as he continues, "Before the snap, you and me were thick as thieves. I care about you, Y/N, and you've had Pepper, Rhodey, and me all worried sick. Yeah, we were scared that you'd hurt yourself because we know you and I know how bad you got when we were in hiding, so we have every right to be worried about you."

It's incredibly quiet, quiet enough to hear a mouse sneeze. Bucky felt incredibly awkward standing there. He had only met Y/N a few times before he moved into her home and every time he had been around her, Steve was there. Obviously, he doesn't know Y/N as good as Sam does-hell, he barely knows anything about her-but he knows when someone is doing bad and Y/N is clearly doing bad.

Y/N leans her head forehead, pressing it against her knees for a moment. Her chest felt hollow, almost as if it was going to cave in on itself. She would love to pretend that she was doing completely okay, love to pretend that Sam and her family were wrong in their assumptions of why she had disappeared. Y/N would love to pretend like everything was okay, but she was tired. She was incredibly tired, utterly exhausted. Y/N was done trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, done hiding everything in order to keep up appearances for the people around her. She let a shakily breath slip out of her mouth as she lifts up her head, resting her chin on her knees. As if he could feel the energy in the room shift, Sam turns to look at Bucky, silently asking if he could leave. The super soldier nods and without a word, he walks out the front door, shutting it behind him. Sam knows Y/N and he knows for times like this, she doesn't need an audience. Its already extremely hard for her to share what she is feeling and having Bucky there isn't exactly helping.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam. I can't." Y/N admits quietly once the door is shut, tears steaming down her cheeks. "I tried to stick it out for Pepper and Morgan, but I can't. I-I was going to do it. I had a goodbye message recorded and everything."

Her confession sucks all of the air out of the room, the only noises being her sniffling and the sounds a house as old as this one makes. Sam can feel his heart breaking in his chest makes his way over to her, crossing the room in seconds. He moves to sit on the edge of the nook she's sitting on. Up close, Sam can see how red her eyes are, how dark her under eyes are. He knows she most likely hasn't gotten any actual rest in few days-most likely since she's been gone. Her legs and arms are all cut up and bruised, her white dress covered in dirt and occasionally some sprinkles of deep burgundy. Her cheeks seemed a little less full and Sam wonders when was the last time she ate was.

"And you wanted to do it here?" Sam asks, his voice soft. Y/N just nods in response, unable to look at him. The man clasps his hands together as he continues, treading the waters as carefully as possible, "I-I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through okay? I'm not going to bullshit you. All I know is that you're hurting and you have every right to be."

"It just hurts so much, Sam. Everything hurts and I-I don't want to hurt anymore." Y/N manages to get out, not bothering to wipe the tears that keep rolling down her cheeks, "I'm tired. I'm so God damn tired and I want to be with them."

"Do you think that's what Tony wants? Do you think he wants you to join him? Do you think that's what Nat wants you to do?" Sam questions delicately, to which Y/N shakes her 'no' in response, "I know it hurts, but ending it? They don't want that for you. We don't want that for you. You still have so much life to live, kid. And I know it's horrible right now. You're going through pain that is way too much for one person to carry, but you don't have to go through this alone. Sure I'm not Nat or your brother and I'm sure as hell not Steve-but I am here and I want to make sure you're okay."

Y/N raises her head to look at her friend and Sam can see the hurt written all over her face. Her pain is visible and he feels like a shitty friend for not noticing it beforehand. Sam carefully reaches out and rests his hand on top of hers, a tear slipping out of his eyes.

"Just come back with us, okay? It's not going to be easy and it's going to suck, but I can't bury another friend, Y/N." Sam's voice cracks, his throat constricting with emotion. It takes her moment-and for that moment Sam is absolutely petrified, wondering if he said all the wrong things, wondering if he made it all worse-but then she nods the world's tiniest nod before breaking out into full on sobs. It was like all of the pain and hurt had finally broken through and she was finally reacting to it all. Sam wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her against his chest as she cried and cried over the family she lost.

#steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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harrysweasleys · 3 years

Text

save me a dance // n.l.

summary: Hi!! Could I please request a Neville x Slytherin! Reader? She has a kind soul and became friends with Hermione (who’s the only person that knows about her crush on Neville), but she kept her distance because she knew about what happened to his parents. She goes to the Yule ball with another Slytherin that eventually ditched her, so she sneaks into the kitchens and hangs out with house elves until Neville comes by (knowing that she always hung out with them when she felt sad) and he confesses ^^

warnings: very brief mention of unwanted sexual advances if you squint, mentions of food

word count: 5k

a/n: my first neville fic!!! i’m so excited for you all to read it, i had so much fun writing it :)

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform]

For what felt like the hundredth time, you woke up to the same view; your Yule Ball dress hanging loosely over the four poster bed, the sunlight streaming through the fabric and onto your chunky bed sheets.

The dress was quite stunning, but Godric, did you dread wearing it. You didn’t exactly feel like dancing the night away alongside some Slytherin bloke while you looked around at all the happy couples, wishing ever so desperately that that could have been you. That you could be the one dancing the night away with the person who had captured your heart effortlessly.

Unfortunately, that plan hadn’t exactly fallen into place. Hermione had done her best to help you out in getting him to ask you, but you ended up being put on the spot when a Slytherin boy named Jasper had asked you during Transfigurations. So, you had said yes, but deep down, that regret was starting to multiply by the second.

You let out a groan, tossed your head back against the pillow, and lifted the warm comforter off of your body. The fireplace in the centre of the room was still crackling away, but within the stone walls of the castle, the cold seemed to never fully fade.

So you threw on your house sweater, your scarf, robe, and a pair of trousers, before heading down to start the day. The snow was accumulating rather quickly outside as Christmas drew nearer, rendering you quite glad that you brought your scarf.

“At least you’re prepared,” Hermione mumbled as the two of you made your way to Divinations, “It’s always freezing in Professor Trewlaney’s room! Oh, how I wish I could have brought mine. Rather silly of me.”

You chuckled, keeping your eyes on the long winding staircase as you responded to her, “Not to worry, I’m sure Ron has a sweater you can borrow.”

Though you weren’t facing her, you could practically feel her eye roll as she scoffed, “Very funny. Such a clever idea. You really are filled with those.”

“I’m just saying,” you turned back to face her quickly before pulling down the ladder to the Divination classroom, “I’m sure he’d think you look amazing in it. Isn’t that what guys like? When their girlfriends wear their clothing?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” she shushed you as you climbed up, “Be quiet!”

You apologized with a laugh as you climbed into the classroom and made your way to your usual seat at the front by the window, Hermione coming over to join you. Harry and Ron were seated not too far away, but that didn’t really matter to you. From across the class, you spotted Neville.

He was accompanied by Seamus — who seemed quite interested in the tablecloth at the moment — but you so wished that you could be the one sitting across from him.

His vest hung loosely against his body and his dark hair was littering his forehead, eyes scrunched shut as he let out a yawn. As he opened them, you noticed they darted in your direction before snapping away.

You felt a frown form on your lips. Why did he look away so fast? Instinctively, you raised a hand to the top of your head to check if there was anything in your hair.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked as she dug through her bag, placing the heavy Divinations book on top of the circular table. The book, with its golden lettering, seemed to twinkle under the pink hues of the morning sky.

You shrugged, “Nothing.”

Her eyes followed to where you had previously been looking, and she let out a sigh, “Relax. You look wonderful. There’s nothing to fix.”

You sulked back into your chair, “Hermione, he asked Ginny to the ball. Don’t try to continue your matchmaking.”

She leaned forward on the table, pushing her thick hair behind her shoulder, “Doesn’t mean you don’t stand a chance. Look, I like Ginny, but maybe they’re going as friends. Like you and Jasper.”

“I think Jasper has more than friendship on his mind,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to the way his hands lingered on your lower back a little too long after you agreed to be his date.

She gave you a sympathetic glance, opening her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by Trewlaney announcing her presence. The class began shortly after, and you spent the time reading Hermione’s palm and deciphering what your own dreams meant.

According to the textbook, you were going to stumble upon a lot of money as well as possibly fall down a sewer within the next week. Nothing new, really. It was better than Harry’s, who once again, was told he was doomed for death in the coming months.

As the class ended, you stuffed the books and parchment into your backpack and thanked Trelawney for the lesson, following Hermione out of the room. As you made your way to the ladder, you spotted a little red ball on the ground.

You crouched to pick it up, immediately recognizing it as Neville’s remembrall. How oddly convenient that it land right at your feet.

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered as you turned to hand it to him, fingers brushing against his as you placed it in his palm, “This thing likes to try and escape.”

You grinned at him, “You should keep it safe in your dorm.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady as you spoke to him, which was odd, really. Why did you always become so nervous around Neville, who was one of the shyest, kindest people you’d ever met? Crushes were quite strange.

He gave you a small smile and a shrug, “I like to carry it on me. It’s from my nan. I don’t want to leave it behind.”

Your chest felt like it was going to swell at his words, “That’s really sweet. I’m sure she appreciates that you care for it so much.”

As you turned back to face the ladder, Hermione gave you a quick wink and a thumbs up before darting away with Harry and Ron, clearly insinuating that you should walk with Neville. You mentally scolded her before making your way to it, Neville not far behind.

“She does,” he said, fondness clear in his voice, “It’s not like I get anything from my parents, so I cherish anything I get from my family in general.”

Your heart sunk in your chest. Neville had always been very closed off when talking about his family — especially his parents — so the way he mentioned them so casually had you doubting what to say next. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by continuing the topic, nor did you want to brush it off like it was nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you said, facing him once the two of you began going down the spiral staircase, “I can imagine it’s difficult. But your nan clearly cares a lot, and she’s lucky to have you.”

His ears turned slightly pink at your words and you had to fight a grin.

The next few minutes were silent until Neville once again turned to face you. There was something about him that always seemed optimistic, despite the fact that he had just spoken a bit about the difficult situation with his parents. Whether it be the smile on his face or the sparkle in his eye, you couldn’t be sure what it was. But Merlin, did you ever adore it.

“She sent me my suit for the Yule Ball, actually,” he said, a bit of a hop in his step as he said the words, “It doesn’t fit perfectly but I’m sure it’ll last the night.”

You let out a small laugh, “That’s awfully sweet of her. I’m sure you’ll look dashing.”

As you said the words, you regretted them instantly. Well, not so much regretted — you meant every syllable — but more so, you wished you could currently fall into the sewer that Trelawney had predicted you’d stumble into.

Throwing out a compliment like that was quite possibly the last thing you wanted to do. Would he react badly? Would he think you were coming onto him? Would this change things?

Were you overthinking?

The corners of his lips curled up into a shy smile and he gave you a nod and cut you short of your internal rambling, “Are you excited?”

Yeah, definitely overthinking.

You let out a sigh, trying to move past your embarrassment and continue your walk to your next class, dodging a few passing students, “Kind of. I’m excited for the music. Not so much the dancing. I’m not very good at that.”

He chuckled, “I wasn’t either. I taught myself, actually. In my room. The lads loved to make fun of that.”

The image of Neville dancing away in the cramped boys’ dorm brought a smile to your face.

“You’ve already got a step up on me, then,” you faced him, “Get ready to watch me humiliate myself on the dance floor.”

You stepped a little closer to him as a group of Ravenclaw pushed past in a rush, and Neville’s hand reached for your arm to help steady you.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling away and avoiding your gaze, “But anyways, I’m sure you’re not as bad as you think. Ginny has never danced either, so you won’t be the only one.”

You tried your best to push past the surge of jealousy that washed over you. You already knew he was going with Ginny — hell, you’d know for a while now — but it did not make it any easier to hear. Especially coming from him.

“I didn’t expect you’d ask her,” you admitted, “but I’m sure you’ll both have a wonderful time. She’ll have a good leader to help her maneuver the moves.”

You gave his shoulder a small nudge, trying to act like you weren’t drowning in your own feelings. The thought of Neville holding Ginny close to his body as they swayed to the romantic music nearly made you sick. You liked Ginny a great deal, she was such a sweet girl with a fierce attitude that you admired, but you really wished Neville had asked you instead.

“We’re just going as friends,” he said, “I was going to ask someone else but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I’m pretty sure Ginny was also interested in another person in the first place.”

You tried your best to hold back a sigh of relief. They were going as friends. That didn’t mean it would make it easier to see them together, but maybe you could push past the jealousy you felt about seeing them as a couple.

But then the next thing he said hit you; he wanted to ask someone else. Someone he was interested in romantically? Perhaps he actually did like someone, even if that someone wasn’t Ginny. Who could it be? And why were you so irritated? You didn’t even know them.

“Well,” you said, unsure of how to change the topic, “I’ll be looking out for you two on the dance floor.” You wanted so desperately to no longer speak of the Yule Ball. The thought of the night was now dizzying and had you feeling a little faint, to be completely honest.

It was going to be a long day.

— —

You were honestly quite surprised by the appearance of the Great Hall. Usually filled with long tables, chairs, and candles, it was now glistening like a winter wonderland. There was fake snow falling from the ceiling, but it never touched the ground. The room smelled faintly of pine trees and sweets, and you figured that there had to be at least seven Christmas trees littering the room.

To put it simply, the space was beautiful.

Music played softly from the dance floor ahead, and to your right, there was a small table with a few snacks and drinks. There were also quite a few seats around, already occupied by couples and friends.

“What do you want to do?”

You turned to face Jasper, who was waving over at a group of Slytherins further on the left.

“We can go dance,” you suggested, praying he wasn’t going to drag you over to his housemates. Jasper seemed alright enough, but you weren’t a fan of his obnoxious friends. You could very well go the night without hanging around them, thank you very much.

He shrugged, “Sure.”

He linked his hand in yours and tugged you along behind him, bringing you over to the dance floor. Once you got there, you noticed a few familiar faces.

Hermione and Viktor were not far away, and she gave you an excited grin before pointing at her date, who was obviously making love heart eyes in her direction. You couldn’t blame him, honestly. Further along you spotted Fred and Angelina, dancing away as if they were the only two in the room. It caused you to chuckle.

“So do you want to dance, or…?” Jasper asked, placing one of his hands on your waist.

You shivered under his touch. It wasn’t a good shiver, it was discomfort. You wanted more than anything to be dancing with Neville — who you currently spotted over with Ginny, his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, awkwardly stepping closer to him before putting your arms around his neck. Your throat began to sting as you watched the two of them glide across the floor, laughing as they spoke to each other. It felt quite juxtaposed to the uncomfortable, weird situation that you found yourself currently in.

You began to sway to the music, trying your best not to dart your eyes to Neville every couple of seconds. Jasper was clearly not enjoying this, but you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care what he wanted. He wasn’t going to get what he came here for and you weren’t going to be guilted into it either.

You honestly couldn’t be thankful enough as the slow song ended. You quickly pulled your arms away from him and you crossed them over your chest.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” you said, not waiting for his response before taking off to the table by the entrance. You heard him call your name as you pushed your way through students, holding the skirt of your dress in your hands to avoid being stepped on, but you didn’t look back.

There was a clearing near the table and you took a deep breath, dropping your skirt and letting out a sigh. Your shoulders slouched as you walked over and grabbed a small glass, not even sure if you were thirsty. The excuse was simply to get away from Jasper. You were regretting your decision to come here more than ever.

“I recommend the punch.”

You spun on your heel, nearly coming in contact with Neville. He was standing behind you, taking a step back after realizing how close he really was.

“Oh—,” you nodded, “Thanks.”

The punch bowl sat in front of you, glistening red under the shimmering lights. You grabbed the spoon and poured yourself a little bit, enjoying the scent of the fruity drink.

You turned back around, giving Neville a forced smile, “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he fiddled with his waistcoat, “Are you alright? I don’t mean to prod or anything.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, “Yeah, I guess I’m alright, really. Just not having a great time.”

Neville’s eyes scanned the dance floor where he spotted Jasper’s familiar blond head scanning the crowd, “I’m guessing it has something to do with your date.”

His eyes found yours again and you nodded, placing the glass down on the table behind you, “My situation is kind of like yours, I guess. You wanted to ask someone else. Well, I wanted someone else to ask me.”

You could see his shoulders sag before he frowned, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’d say anyone would be lucky to have you as their partner, but something about him tells me he’s not enjoying himself the way he should be, being by your side and all.”

You had to fight a grin at his words. How Neville could be so awkward, yet so effortless in his words, you’d never understand. It was one of the reasons you knew you wouldn’t be getting over your crush anytime soon.

“Thanks,” you gave him a smile, looking down to the ground before meeting his eyes again, “You should go back. I don’t want to keep you from dancing.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes as he scanned your face, but he gave a slight nod, “If ever you want to get away from him, I’ll be there to help you.”

“Thanks, Neville,” you smiled genuinely, maintaining eye contact. He stood there for a moment, looking into your eyes, and you could practically feel how reluctant he was to walk away.

As cliché and typical as it sounds, it almost felt like you were alone in the room, completely lost in his gaze. His eyes brought you comfort that nothing else could provide, and you only wished you could look into them more often. Like dancing, for example. How easily you’d find yourself lost in his eyes if you were dancing.

“No worries,” he gave you a small smile, scanned your face once more, and took off into the crowd. As you watched his head of dark hair vanish, you let out a deep breath. If life could go your way, he’d have his hand linked with yours as he led you back to the dance floor.

But life wasn’t fair like that, was it?

You completely disregarded the punch behind you, stomach feeling like it was in knots, and made your way back to where you left Jasper. Only, you couldn’t find the familiar mop of blond hair anywhere. He was rather tall, so it wouldn’t be difficult to spot him. And yet, somehow, he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you looked to the entrance door and saw him hand in hand with a ginger Slytherin girl, both of them stumbling over their feet as they made their way out.

“Well, that was fast,” you mumbled, a frown on your face.

You stood alone on the floor, couples swaying to the music around you. It kind of felt like a movie — the kind of movie where the girl gets her heart crushed by a guy, and then is ditched by another guy, and then is left alone in the end. A crappy movie, you thought, but one that seemed to fit really well right now.

The music was practically taunting you, so instead of staying put or going to finish your drink, you once again gathered your dress in your hands, and made your way out of the room.

The hallway felt a lot fresher compared to the Great Hall, but that was understandable. Hundreds of bodies in one room compared to the corridor with an open doorway to the winter air.

Though, that wasn’t where you were going. You decided you’d go down to your usual escape spot, and now that all the teachers were chaperoning the ball, you would make it there with minimal interruption.

You spotted the familiar painting by the kitchen entrance, the bowl of fruits, and raised your hand to tickle the pear. The painting swung open and you crawled through the little stone passage, making sure your dress wasn’t going to get caught, before landing on both feet on the tile floor.

“Oh! Miss Y/N!”

Dobby, donned in a little scarf and hat, waved at you from a tabletop.

“Hey, Dobby,” you grinned, “Sorry to interrupt your quiet evening in here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

He patted the table next to him, “Why did you leave so early? Dobby heard the ball was lasting all night.”

You gave him a little smile, sitting down on the stool in front of him, “Wasn’t as fun as I expected. I’d rather spend my evening here. Where is everyone else?” The stool was rather small for a human being, considering it was most likely made for an elf, but if you leaned forwards against the table and kept your feet plastered to the ground, you managed to balance just fine.

He gave a little smile and looked at you with those big eyes, “They are all tired! We have been putting the ball together for days now! They all went to bed.”

The corner of your lips curved up, “Well, now you have company, Dobby.”

He clapped his hands together and let out a little laugh, “Let me show you what Dobby found today. It was in the Gryffindor common room!”

You nodded, knowing that it was most likely a knitted hat. Hermione had been leaving those scattered around the room for a little while now. Little did she know Dobby was the one collecting them all.

As you watched his little body disappear through a small doorway on the far wall, you took a look around the kitchen. Despite the fact that you were certain they had been working non-stop in here for days on end, it was nearly spotless. Pots and pans shimmered under the candlelight, tabletops were clear, apart from a few fruit bowls and snacks. The counters were clean, as well as the floors.

If this place had windows, or maybe a little more light, you felt it would be quite nice.

You sat there silently for a little while, already beginning to feel the sadness of the evening creep in. It was quite a bummer, really. You didn’t know if you wanted to go back to your own dorm tonight or stay out wandering the halls, mind running through all the scenarios on how tonight could have gone differently, how it could have been better.

The only sound you could hear was a light creak, which you eventually realized was the painting swinging open to let someone in.

Panic began to settle in and you stood off your chair, moving to the other side of the table. You would still be very much visible if you ducked, so there was no point in doing it, but you did it anyways.

The last thing you wanted was for Snape or Moody to catch you where you shouldn’t be.

Except, the person that crawled through and landed sturdily on their feet wasn’t Snape or Moody.

It was Neville.

You popped your head back up, eyes locking with his. He looked a little disheveled in terms of his hair, and his bow tie was slightly off centre, but the smile on his face showed relief.

“Neville?” you asked, already feeling a little less panicked. You only hoped Neville was alone. The last thing you wanted was for a girl to crawl in behind him. He wasn’t that kind of guy, you knew that, but your mind went there anyways.

Thankfully, he was alone. The painting swung closed behind him and he gave you a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, walking back around to the front of the table, this time deciding not to sit on the stool.

His cheeks turned a little pink but he brushed it off and shrugged, “I saw you rush out of the room. I wanted to see if you were okay. I remember you once told me you come here when you’re upset, so I gave it a shot.”

Your mouth felt like it fell open so you shut it quickly, blinking rapidly, “I’m surprised you remembered. Only you and Hermione know about my little escape spot.”

He gave a small chuckle, stepping a little closer, “Are you alright, though? I saw you leave and I didn’t see your date anywhere.”

You gave a shrug, averting your eyes, “He left. With another girl. I wasn’t interested in him that way, but it still sucks.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and gave a shake of his head, “You’re better off without him,” he stepped a little closer, catching your attention once more, “But I get why you’re upset. Funny story, the same thing happened to me. But not in the same sense. Ginny managed to get a dance with Harry.”

You were close enough to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

Realization caught up to you and you noticed how stupid this gesture probably was, so you snatched your arm back and held it against you. Neville noticed your quick reaction and you could see his gaze fall down to the ground before meeting yours again.

Just like at the punch table, it felt as if time stood still while you looked into his eyes. You could see he looked like he wanted to say something, his stare darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes, but he didn’t say anything for a good moment.

Until one of his hands reached across and held yours. His skin was warm, and you could feel his pulse against his wrist. His heart was beating fast, and if he could feel your own pulse, he’d say the same about you.

“You look—,” he took a deep breath, “You look beautiful tonight. Well, not just tonight. You look beautiful most of the time. I’m just saying, it’s — never mind.”

Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest, goosebumps rising on your skin at his words. They had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t find a way to respond. No words seemed to find their way into your mind. All you could do was smile. A bright, genuine grin that hurt your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you let out a small laugh, linking your fingers with his, “Also, you look pretty dapper yourself. I told you you would, and I was right.”

He stepped closer, his other hand locking with your free one. It wasn’t an overtly intimate gesture — people held hands all the time — but Merlin, did you ever melt into his touch.

“Do you — Can we have a dance?”

You bit your lip to hold back your smile. How you went from standing alone on the dance floor, starring in the most depressing teen flick you’d ever heard of, to standing alone in the kitchen, your hands locked with Neville’s as the candles flickered around the two of you, you’d never know. But you were so, so grateful. And happier than you can ever remember being.

“I’d love that,” you nodded, stepping closer and resting your head against his shoulder. His hands let go of yours and went to your waist, and it felt so right. So right that you completely forgot about how it felt when Jasper was holding you instead.

Your hands went up to his neck, draping them around him and leaning into his touch. There was no music, but it almost didn’t feel necessary. The two of you began to sway slowly back and forth, the only sound being the click of your shoes as you took your steps. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about whether Dobby would walk back in any second now.

He rested his head against yours as he led the way. It wasn’t much of a dance, but it was quite possibly the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to you. You wished more than anything that you could freeze this moment and live like this forever.

“A hat! Dobby was left a hat — Oh! Hello!”

Neville pulled away instinctively and grinned awkwardly, taking a second to process what had happened before nodding his head in the direction of the house elf, “Hello, Dobby.”

You fought a grin, turning your head back to face Dobby, who was awkwardly looking between the two of you, a large knitted beanie in his hand.

“Dobby can sense he is intruding,” he muttered, giving a little bow before backing up through the door he left through before, “Good night!”

The moment had sort of been interrupted, but you didn’t move away from Neville’s touch, resting your head against his shoulder once more as your laughter died down. Of course, the curious little elf would walk in at the worst moment.

“I knew that would happen,” you laughed, tightening your grip around him a little more. He chuckled, head falling against yours. You could feel his hair tickling the side of your face, the strands unruly and curly as they brushed against your skin.

The night ended up being way better than you expected.

This one you would never forget.

——

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#neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom reader insert #neville longbottom one shot

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bakugosbratx · 3 years

Note

Hi love💜 Can I request a smutty dark Eren x reader???

NSFW 18+ Broken Pieces— Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Everyone is age up and consenting. Smut, sexual encounters, cursing, degrading, some power play, unprotected sex, angst, etc.

Click here to see my other works

A/N: Thank you so much for your request. I hope it met your idea. I am only on season 3 of AOT so if anything seems uncanny I apologize. I hope you enjoy.

Words: 1,865

Loving Eren Jeager was not an easy task it seems. He is a soldier after all. You would await for him to arrive home after long missions with the military in hopes he will still be in one piece, but each time the soldiers marched back, the pit in your stomach grew with anticipation. Especially when Eren was nowhere to be seen.

“Captain Levi,” you huff, walking beside him as a row of soldiers follow him, “where the hell is Eren?”

“Hello to you too, brat.” Levi responds, not even looking down from on top of his horse. He is used to you doing this by now.

“With all due respect, sir, now is not the time for your smartass remarks. Where is Eren?” You snap, keeping a fast pace to keep up with the group. You and Levi have built an understanding over the years. He knows you are concerned about Eren and he cannot fault you for that.

“Eren decided he was going to play hero and injured himself in combat.” Levi sighed, mumbling “what an idiot” under his breath shortly after. You gasped, furrowing your eyebrows while glaring up at the Captain.

“Please tell me he isn’t dead..” You stammered.

“Like I would let Jeager die.” He scoffed. “He is in the wagon with Mikasa.”

“Okay, thank you, sir.” You nod, standing still so the line can keep moving. Once the wagon that is holding Eren came along, you hopped on. Your man laid on his back, Mikasa right by his side. You kneel on the other side of him.

“Please,” you softly whimper as you meet Mikasa’s emotionless eyes, “tell me he is alright.”

She nodded.

“He is in-and-out of consciousness, but he should be fine.” Mikasa reassured. You let out a sigh of relief.

Softly cupping his scratched up face, you release tears filled with stress, sadness, and even glee. “Oh, Eren. Whatever will I do with you?” You chuckled, softly.

You sat beside Eren’s bedside all evening. Mikasa kept you company. You and her have grown close over the years. She can see how much you truly love and care for Eren which he needs. This does relieve some stress off of her when she cannot be around to protect or scold him from acting on impulse.

Silence filled the room as you both stared at bandaged up Eren. The doctor said he does have a concussion, but should be alright. This calmed both of you.

“How do you do it?” Mikasa finally asks after more minutes pass. You raise an eyebrow, gazing in her direction. She refuses to meet your orbs.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you still willingly love Eren?” She rephrased, her hands finding refuge in her red scarf Eren gave her years ago. You are aware of their history, but your brain cannot seem to compute her question.

“I’m not understanding—“

“Eren is not,” she paused to find the right word, “normal. He comes with a lot of risk. He is a loose cannon. He will more than likely die in battle from his impulsive nature. Why put yourself through that?”

You hesitate to answer. Mikasa is not wrong, unfortunately. Everyday is a worry when it comes to Eren’s wellbeing along with your own. You will never dream of stopping Eren from chasing his aspirations. That wouldn’t be right, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish he was not a military man. He would be home every night with you. So many lonely evenings and deafening sobs.

“I don’t know,” You spoke honestly. Mikasa finally looked at you. “Eren is worth the risk.”

Before Mikasa could pester you any further, Eren stirred in his slumber. His eyes soon awaken and gaze over at you two. You and Mikasa let out a small gasp.

“Eren..” is said in unison by you both.

“Where,” he swallows and places a hand on his forehead, “where am I?”

“You are in recovery. You injured yourself in battle.” You explained to your significant other. Eren nods and starts to sit up, but Mikasa pushes him back down.

“You need to rest.” Mikasa scolds.

“So do you.” Eren argued.

“He’s not wrong, Mikasa.” You concur, placing your hand on her shoulder. “Go rest. I got Eren.”

Usually, Mikasa would protest, but she is exhausted. Her aching body is craving sleep. She also knows that Eren will be in good hands with you around. So, she let out a small sigh and headed out the door. You and Eren are now completely alone.

“You need to rest too, y’know?” Eren states.

“Hard to rest when you are getting injured all of the time.” You countered. Eren rolled his eyes in response.

“You knew this going in, Y/N. It’s my job to keep you safe.“

“You can only keep me safe if you stay alive, Eren.” You snap.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

You looked at your twiddling thumbs, not meeting his intense gaze. You did not want him to see the tears in your eyes. What use would it do? Eren will always choose the army over you. That’s just the facts. You know this is his life purpose. You cannot stand in the way of that.

“Barely.” You finally utter out, still not looking at the man before you. Eren’s breath turns noticeably shaken.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” He interrogated, his voice not coming out as tough as he would appreciate.

“We can discuss things a different time, Eren.” You stand up from your chair and start heading towards the door as tears fall. “You need rest.”

Your hand goes to turn the door knob, but Eren’s is quick to land on-top of yours. You spin around to face your significant other.

“Eren, what the—“ Your question was cut off by Eren’s hunger filled lips. His hands cup your face as all his passion is poured into your dry mouth. You missed these kinds of kisses. You missed the drive this man used to overflow you with. He is making up for it now.

Eren slowly pulls away, keeping his lips inches close to yours as he still holds your face. “Don’t you dare leave me.”He dominantly whispers.

“Like I would.” You mutter out.

A small smile appears on Eren’s face before he proceeds to kiss you. Only this time he forces you against the door. One hand finds their way to your breast while the other still holds your face. His index and middle finger ever so gently play with your nipple as the palm of his hand squeezes your areola. He’s torturing you at this point, but who are you to protest? You missed Eren. You missed his not-so-gentle touch and his way of words.

You missed him.

Eren’s lips left yours to suck and nibble on your earlobe. Soft moans escaped your mouth as you begged for more.

“Better be quiet, princess. Don’t want anyone to hear you.” He scornfully chuckled into your ear.

“I don’t care if anyone hears me. Just fuck me, Eren.” You breathe out. Your sexual drive could not be contained anymore. You need Eren in more ways than one.

Your lips never disconnected as you made your way towards the bed, both of your clothes being discarded within the process. You laid on your back as Eren climbed on top. Your lips finally disconnected. The moonlight lit up the dark room through the window. It laid perfectly on Eren’s features. His muscular form hovered over your naked body. One hand trailed every line of his abs while you moved some of his long brown hair out of his beautiful face.

“This isn’t resting.” You scold, playfully. He rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“Shut up and just take my cock, will ya?”

You both snicker at his remark and begin kissing again. There will never be enough make out sessions to fix what is broken, but it is sure one hell of a start. The skin on skin contact is well perceived. You both just can’t seem to get enough of each other.

Eren pulls away to sit up. He pushes your knees towards your breast, revealing more of your begging cunt. You keep your legs in place with your arms as he aligns his cock with your entrance. You’re already dripping from the anticipation. It has been far too long since you two had sexual intercourse.

“Already a soaking mess, huh?” Eren teases. You did not even have time to make a remark back as his length enters your soaked pussy. Immediate moans escaped your lips as he thrust himself in-and-out. Your tight walls hug his girth and length perfectly.

“God damn, you’re still so fucking tight, babe.” Eren groans as he continues diving every single inch into you. “I need to fuck you more often.”

“Eren—“ You cry. His hips keep colliding with your exposed ass as he hits all the right spots. His hand finds a way to your throat, choking you as he wrecks your precious pussy. Your legs eventually wrap around his waist to keep him from leaving you for too long. His other hand gives occasional hard slaps to your outer thigh. All you can do is moan in pleasure.

Your walls clenched around Eren’s member. His smug smirk grew wider as he felt your cunt’s walls beg him not to leave you hollow for the tiniest of seconds. His blue orbs meet yours.

“HA! Such a cock hungry slut. Already wanna cum again.” Eren cheekily remarks. You feel flustered, but you cannot help that your body betrays you.

“Please let me cum, Eren.” You begged. He always did love playing dominant in the bedroom. He finally let go of your throat so you can provide oxygen to your lungs. His rhythm increased to a higher speed, almost making it impossible to wait for permission.

“Have to beg better than that.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. He really was not going to let you just have this. Your pussy was not going to last much longer. If you want him to continue providing you dick tonight, you need to give this your all and make it count.

“Please Eren. Please let me cum. I’m begging you. I’m,” you gasp as you almost lose control, “not going to last much longer.”

Eren waited a moment to answer. He loved seeing you in agony because of his cock. Feeling your cunt not being able to last much longer as well as him, he nods. “Go ‘head and cum.”

He hardly could get the words out as your pussy released on to Eren. He was sure to follow shortly after as the veins in his member twitch. Cum flowed from the head of his dick into the depths of your cunt. You whimper softly as he milks every drop into you.

He lays next to you once he’s done, holding you close. You both pant, sweat droplets formed at the top of your foreheads. The room was musky, but still. For right now, everything is alright until he leaves once again.

©bakugosbratx

#bratx writes #bratx request #attack on titan #eren smut #eren yaeger imagine #eren x y/n #eren yaeger x y/n #eren yeager #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jäger #eren fluff #attack on titan eren #eren aot #aot x reader #aot requests #aot smut

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sencire · 3 years

Text

Sugar Rush

Sunday walks are her favorite. Slowing her steps to an almost stop, Lexa inhales deeply. The air is cold and crisp, the snow crunches underneath her shoes but the sun warms her face as she lifts her head and closes her eyes. It’s quiet here. Most people take the route along the busier main arm of the river but Lexa likes to come to the small side arm that has no real boat traffic. People live here on their houseboats. It seems like a place that has fallen out of time, enchanted in its quietness and it always makes Lexa feel at peace.

Sunday walks are also her least favorite. Just a few hours left before she needs to step back into “the life”. Phones, computers, numbers, people in general, too many of them for way too long. Sunday walks make her sad. Returning home means even less time before it all starts again. There’s never enough time in a weekend. How wonderful it must be to live on a boat and not care much for the busy lifestyle.

Lexa smiles as she approaches a particularly colorful boat. This one is not only a home. This is Mr Warner’s candy shop. She has never had a sweet tooth but she knows the friendly old man, always smiling happily, chatting with people and selling them candy.

It’s not Mr Warner though that she sees inside the shop. The store is closed and in the window below the shutters, she can see that half the jars holding the candy are gone. Lexa leans down a little to peek inside. Her searching gaze is met by the surprised blue eyes of a young blonde woman and Lexa freezes. She suppresses the urge to jump up and run, thinking that would be silly. You don’t just stare into someone’s home and run when you get caught. She’s not five years old. So she lifts her hand and waves gingerly, putting on a little smile. The woman inside smiles back and Lexa can’t help but smile wider. She points at the candy jar the woman is holding. She must have just removed it from the display. Moving her hand up to her mouth, Lexa silently asks the woman if she’s going to eat all the candy by herself. It gets her a raised eyebrow and a wink but then the woman moves and disappears from her view.

Okay. That went really well. For almost a minute, nothing happens. Lexa is just about to walk off when the shutters creak open and with a thud, the woman drops the candy jar onto the counter.

“Would you like some?”

“Ah … umm … no, thank you,” Lexa replies with a chuckle. “You can have it all to yourself.”

“And end up rolling off the boat, huh?” the woman says, holding Lexa’s gaze. She’s so pretty. Lexa bites her lips. There’s something about those blue eyes that makes it very hard for Lexa to detach her gaze from them. Long seconds pass until Lexa finally clears her throat and takes a step back.

The woman smiles quietly and looks down, picking up the jar to hug it.

“You’re not Mr Warner,” Lexa states. “Is he okay?”

Sadness clouds the woman’s face and she shakes her head slowly. Lexa regrets her question right away.

“My grandfather,” the woman says, holding the jar tighter. “He’s not well and won’t be back.”

“Oh,” Lexa looks for words. She doesn’t really know the old man but he had once told her something she thinks about often. I love my job, he had said one summer, a couple of years back. Everyone smiles at me. Selling candy is the best thing ever.

“He loves his job,” Lexa says, instantly wondering why that is the only thing she can think of. “I hope he is well.”

The woman looks up, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips again.

“He does,” she agrees, putting her hand on the lid of the jar to unscrew it. “I’m cleaning out the store. We might sell the boat. Or maybe I will live on it. It’s nice.”

She takes off the lid and reaches inside.

“Did you know him?”

“Not really. Just from passing by here. I don’t eat candy. But he was always happy and I loved that.”

The woman smiles. She looks down at the two pieces of candy in her hand and holds it out to Lexa.

“Have one on him. I’m Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

Declining would be rude so Lexa steps closer again and carefully takes the piece of candy from Clarke’s hand.

“These are special,” the blonde tells her, putting down the jar for good to unwrap her piece.

“They’re -,” she pauses to look at Lexa. “They will warm you up.”

“Will they? That’s good, because I’m cold.”

Lexa unwraps her piece and taking it between two fingers, she drops it into her mouth.

Clarke watches her with an amused expression. Lexa sucks on the candy for a moment, trying to figure out what the taste is. Her eyes widen when her mouth unexpectedly bursts into flames.

Clarke chuckles.

“Chili.”

“Chili?”

Clarke nods, popping the candy into her mouth at last. She closes her eyes, tasting.

“He always kept this jar on the lowest shelf. Said it’s magic the way it makes people horny.” She winks at Lexa.

Lexa chokes on her candy, coughing a few times, and her eyes start to water. Not because of the chili but because of the blunt statement. Somehow it’s really hard to imagine sweet Mr Warner saying that.

“Strawberry and chili, a natural aphrodisiac.” Clarke continues, slowly sucking on her candy. She licks her lips, lowering her eyes to Lexa’s mouth. Lexa laughs because it’s the only thing she can think of right now. She doesn’t feel one bit horny but thinking about the magic in this candy sure has made her feel warmer.

“So what is going to happen now?”

“I don’t know. What would you like to happen?”

Or is she beginning to feel aroused? Her brain is trying to process the tastes in her mouth. The sugary sweetness, the spicy chili, not quite strong enough to mask the fruitiness. She can feel her brain flashing questions through her body, making her skin tingle. Her lips feel swollen and the more she licks at them, the more they burn.

What is happening to her? Her body is sending signals back up to her brain. Signals of how it wants to be touched. Lexa clearly feels her nipples harden and she looks up quickly to see if Clarke has caught it. It doesn’t make her feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, it’s very pleasant. Heat flushes her body, even making her sweat a little. She unzips her jacket.

“Are you trying to seduce me with a piece of candy?”

“Would you mind if I did?”

Suddenly, Lexa wonders what Clarke looks like without her clothes. She gulps, making sure to keep the candy between her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

“You’re so freaking cute,” Clarke continues, her eyes never letting go of Lexa. “And so shy. I bet you’re a good kisser.”

“I’m not shy,” Lexa retorts. “Not at all.”

Clarke leans onto the counter, biting her lower lip.

“Well then, tell me what you are. Are you hot? Does it heat up your core?”

Lexa is faintly aware of her hand coming up to tug at her scarf. She has trouble breathing because it’s getting really hot. She takes another step closer, leaning against the boat. Clarke leans in, grabbing Lexa’s scarf to pull her close and licks across Lexa’s lips. Lexa is too stunned to move but oh, the heat is becoming unbearable.

“Are you getting wet?”

Lexa manages to nod. She is one step away from jumping over the counter.

“Clarke,” she says, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone is near. They’re alone. “Let me come inside and I’ll show you.”

“Tell me. Would you like me to fuck you?”

Lexa can feel it between her legs. Sticky warmth has spread there. And all she can think about is Clarke’s tongue lapping it up gently. Her fingers deep inside of her, pushing in, pulling out, picking up the pace until ...

She lowers her voice, watching Clarke’s eyes drop to her lips.

“Yes. I would.”

“What?”

“Like you to fuck me.”

Clarke smiles at that, letting go of Lexa’s scarf. She motions for Lexa to step away from the boat and closes the shutters. With a few quick steps Lexa has crossed the small bridge onto the boat and waits in front of the door leading inside the main cabin. She hears a key being turned in the lock, then the door opens.

“Oh, there you are,” Clarke says pulling Lexa inside and closing the door behind her, pressing her up against it. A heated kiss follows, all tongues and little moans, barely disguised need. Lexa pushes forward, one hand on Clarke’s back to steady her, the other moving to the front to squeeze her breast. They’re moving blindly, never breaking the kiss for more than a quick breath, towards the tiny cabin on the side that holds the bed. Lexa’s jacket drops to the floor, followed by her scarf and she has to let go of Clarke to lean down and take off of her boots.

She looks up when she hears Clarke laugh.

“You want me bad, huh?”

“So bad,” Lexa breathes, lifting the woolen sweater over Clarke’s head as she comes up to reveal only a bra underneath. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of Clarke’s pants and pulls, crashing their hips together.

“I can feel a sugar rush coming on,” Lexa growls, kissing Clarke deeply and enjoying more of those little moans from deep inside the other woman.

“And I need you to taste it.”

“About time,” the blonde mumbles into the kiss, the tone of her voice sending warm waves of shivers down Lexa’s spine. Clarke pushes her onto the bed, climbing on top.

---

It smells of sex inside the small cabin. Lexa rolls onto her back, feeling comfortably sore and deeply satisfied.

“Clarke?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you do to Mr Warner?”

“He’s fine, enjoying a weekend at a cozy hotel in the countryside with his wife.” Clarke reaches for the blanket to cover them.

“Does he know what you were getting up to?”

“No, and he better never finds out. I kind of like seducing you with candy. We may have to do this one again.”

They start to giggle, like they always do after one of their little adventures. They don’t do this often, but on occasion, Lexa enjoys her blood pressure raised like this, away from their bed at home, especially with Clarke being so creative.

“You have a way of sweetening up my Sundays,” Lexa says, snuggling up to her girlfriend, moving her hand between Clarke’s legs once more.

“Now where is that candy jar?”

#a lttle something from the archives #clexa fic #clexa #clexa fanfic #clarke x lexa

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popcornaddict500 · 2 years

Text

Silver Stings

A little bit about Kaelos's past. 2050~ words. Cw: mentions of drinking but nothing bad

--------

The servants stood by the entrance of the dining room, silently listening to the 'clink' of the silverware.

"When will you introduce us to your future fiancée, Therus?" The king looked up from his plate, at his eldest son.

Therus sighed. "Eventually. She needs time." He took a long sip from his wine.

"That's what you always say..." Lerah, the youngest sister, mumbled under her breath.

Therus glared at her. The queen sighed, shaking her head. "I'm starting to wonder if she even exists."

"She does! But it's a lot, meeting the king and the queen. I've told you, she isn't a royal."

"Which I am not happy with," The king narrowed his eyes at him. "You should find a princess to wed."

Therus ignored him.

Kaelos sat and picked at his food. The voices of his family sounded muffled.

"Kalo, you're not eating."

He flipped over a piece of sliced mushroom.

"Kaelos." The queen said, more insistently this time.

"Huh- what?" He looked up at her, cheeks flushed.

"What's on your mind?" She asked gently. A lock of her long, silver hair fell out of her bun.

"...Nothing, really. I'm just not hungry." He lowered his gaze again, continuing to fiddle with his food.

"Eat. You're too skinny as is." His father rolled his eyes and bit off a chunk of boar meat.

Kaelos grumbled and took a tiny bite.

His mother frowned, but didn't say anything else.

"Do you need assistance with changing into your night clothes?" David, his butler, asked.

"No. You are free to retire for today." Kaelos untied his small ponytail and swept some of his shoulder length hair out of the way.

David seemed surprised. "Are you certain, your highness?"

"Yes. Please, just leave me alone."

"As you wish." He bowed and left.

Kaelos shut his door and locked it with a sigh.

The only time his family really talked to each other was during meals, and even then it wasn't pleasant. His sisters were mostly silent, Therus gave snarky remarks, his mother was worried like always, and his father was good at being a bone-head.

He sat by his window.

Therus was the crown prince, but he didn't act like it. Kaelos barely talked to him. Sometimes when he snuck out, he'd catch Therus at one of the peasant bars in town, wearing a disguise. Did his partner really exist? Judging from all the debauchery the man got up to, it was doubtful. Kaelos had walked in on him with a woman in his bed multiple times. He didn't bother visiting his room much anymore.

He tugged on some plain-looking clothing and cleaned up his face. He put on a cloak and a scarf to cover his face, went to his balcony and climbed down. The vines that grew up to his balcony had never failed him.

He didn't bother looking back at the palace while he made his way to the town.

If his parents found out he was sneaking out at night, surely they'd lock him up. 'It's too dangerous.' 'Silver blood is sought after.' 'You're weak.' 'A lot of people don't take kindly to shapeshifters.'

He shook his head. He could handle himself just fine. He wasn't a child anymore, he was 20 now. His sisters were 15 and 16. Yet his parents seemed to trust them more. Ridiculous...

His entire family was made up of shapeshifters. All of them, including himself, had silver or dark blue hair, or in between. And the blood running through their veins wasn't red, but rather silver. The public knew, as it was one of the main reasons they were so powerful, but of course there would be people against that. Calling the shapeshifters 'demons' or 'cursed.' Rebellions had started multiple times. They were struck down, of course.

Kaelos wondered if the townsfolk adored or feared the royal family. Probably both.

The Alure family had graced the town with both blessings and curses. Silver blood is a potent substance. It has many uses. Therus once pricked his finger on a rose thorn. When his blood flowed onto the plant, it grew bigger than any other plant in the gardens, with blossoms twice as beautiful and grand.

Sounds wonderful, right?

But not everything was wonderful like that. They say that ever since the royal family settled in this place, the people have been more miserable. The mountains have fewer crystals and jewels to give, the snow piles higher and higher. Crops are running out and people can't afford food. And creatures often come by, yearning to taste the silver blood and possibly snatch some townsfolks too. The town looked beautiful. But that of course did very little to soothe the people.

He wandered into the town, which was still bustling with life, despite the late hour. Partygoers and town drunks roamed the streets. Couples wandered into brothels. No doubt Therus had been to those places. Kaelos had never gone, though part of him was tempted to.

He wandered into one of the bars, which wasn't as chaotic as the others. He sat down at the counter.

"What'll it be?" The burly bartender asked with a huff.

"Just a Dirty Blonde." He sighed and dropped a few gold coins on the counter. The man examined them closely before putting them in his pocket.

Kaelos watched as some drunks downed drink after drink. He was impressed to say the least. How did they not get nauseous?

The bartender set a wooden tankard in front of him. A golden drink fizzed in it. One tankard was enough for him. He tugged down his scarf to raise the drink to his lips.

But he choked on it when someone burst through the doors with a loud 'bang'. He hacked and wheezed to get the somewhat spicy liquid out of his windpipe.

A man sitting next to him laughed. "Too spicy for ya?"

"What gives?" The bartender rumbled, crossing his arms. He watched the newcomer with a dubious look.

"My apologies. But I'm looking for someone."

Kaelos jerked in surprise. Therus?! What's he doing here?

"The prince!" A few people stared in unsettled awe.

So no disguise this time. How did he know he snuck out?

The young royal smacked his chest to stop the coughing. He shrank into himself, pulling the scarf up to his nose.

He listened to him asking around. Damn him. What was he supposed to do now?

Therus was steadily approaching his seat. Kaelos's eyes widened. His breathing got unsteady. He didn't want to know what would happen if Therus ratted him out.

He shut his eyes and grit his teeth. If he could just change the colour of his eyes before he got to him... Or alter his vocal cords. Anything to throw Therus off his trail.

He felt something change in his throat, but didn't know if it would be enough. And he couldn't check if his eyes looked different.

"Hey."

"..." Kaelos swallowed. "Yes?" A bit deeper than before.

"...You haven't seen the second eldest prince here, have you?"

"Nah. Never seen him." He didn't usually speak like the townsfolk did. He only hoped it sounded convincing.

"Well, that's too bad." Therus moved away from him and muttered under his breath. "Didn't think that wimp had the guts to sneak out." Therus sighed and leaned against the doorframe.

!!!

"Ehhh?" An old drunk looked up at him.

"He's a coward. Always hides away in his room. It's sad, really." The corner of his lip twitched into a smirk.

Kaelos gripped the tankard tighter.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Mhm. He was a bedwetter, you know."

Therus had to duck a tankard aimed at his head. It smashed against the wall behind him, scattering golden liquid everywhere.

"You filthy liar!" Kaelos stood up so abruptly that his stool fell over. "How dare you spread nonsense about me like that!" His teeth bared in a snarl.

Therus gave him an impossibly smug smirk.

"Found you."

---

Damn it. He had let his ego get the better of him.

And now he was stuck, receiving the biggest lecture from his parents, with his siblings watching.

"I can't believe you! Do you realize what this does to how people see us!? The prince, running around town at night and getting drunk! What is wrong with you?!" His father's voice boomed through the hall.

Kaelos didn't respond.

"I'm so disappointed in you. Why can't you be more like your siblings?" His mother crossed her arms.

"Look at you, soiling our reputation." Therus sneered.

Was it possible to have molten metal in your veins?

Because it sure felt that way.

"Me?" Kaelos shot to his feet. "Me?" He jabbed a finger at Therus, standing a few feet away. The man visibly flinched.

"I'm not the one going out every night and causing a ruckus at the bars. I'm not the one drinking so much that I can barely walk. And I'm certainly not the one turning maidens into women of the night."

Therus stared at him. Kaelos stared right back. He really thought he was going to keep it a secret forever?

The king gasped and stood up. "Therus, is this true?"

"N-no!"

"I remember their names, you know. He certainly wasn't quiet about it." Kaelos crossed his arms. "Maria. Beth. Lisa. Rosemary. And I seem to recall a Miss Winters as well."

With every name he spoke, Therus turned more pale.

The queen looked at her eldest son, horror in her gaze.

"You little rat- He's- he's lying, mother!" The tremor in his voice gave him away.

"I haven't spoken a single lie. Meanwhile you have apparently been spreading rumors about me, on your nightly rendezvous. Putting down the family name by calling me weak and pitiable. How is that making us look any better?" He knew this would come to bite him in the ass later. But he didn't care.

"Being unfaithful to your partner, too?!" His parents turned their anger towards Therus now.

"Or you don't have one! I should have you thrown in with the pigs!"

Using the opportunity, Kaelos slinked off. His ears hurt from the yelling. He felt a little bad, but Therus got what he deserved.

"Your highness, may I ask what's going on?" David approached him in the hall.

"...A family scandal, you could say." He sighed and swept into his room. "I don't want to stay here."

"Sir?" His butler gave him an awkward glance.

He ignored it.

For the following days, Therus was in the worst state he'd been. He barely slept, his eyes shone with a barely-restrained rage, and he didn't even bother making himself look decent. His parents put a spell on him which bound him to the palace, meaning he couldn't leave, and it also prevented any shapeshifting. Kaelos was left unscathed. Apparently they thought Therus deserved the punishment more so.

But that did mean that Kaelos had to keep a keen eye. As long as he was in the palace he was in possible danger. His older brother wasn't the forgiving type. Definitely not when it was his intention to screw him over.

One night, Therus attempted to corner him. Promising he'd give him the beating of his life, if not more.

Kaelos wasn't as adept with his shapeshifting yet, still being quite young, but somehow he managed to turn into a gecko and crawl into a crack of the bathroom wall. Therus hadn't anticipated that.

That was when he decided he'd leave.

"...Your highness?"

"What?"

Kaelos stuffed his clothes, a thick bag of gold and jewels and anything else he'd need into his suitcase. David looked nervous.

"Are you going on a trip?"

"No, I'm leaving. I won't be coming back."

His butler gasped in surprise. "But you're a prince-"

"So what? I won't get the crown anyway, my brother wants to kill me, my parents are disappointed in me. I can't live like this anymore, I don't want to stay here."

"T-then what do you plan to do?"

"Find something to do. Study. Get a job. Being a tailor always sounded nice."

"You can't be serious, sir..."

"I am." Kaelos turned to look at him and put a hand on his shoulder. He handed him a fairly big pouch of gold. "Go home to your family, David. I hereby release you of your duties. Permanently."

"What ever do you mean-"

"You've been a good servant to me, and I appreciate it. But I've got no use to you now."

"...Yes, your highness."

"Please. Just call me Kaelos."

#charlie's writing #kaelos #lore #HEH #it's a little messy but shhhhh

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horribletestsubject · 3 years

Text

Fic I just wrote based on These Two art pieces that I’ve drawn and THIS POST by @body-utensil-travels-terrain

———

You’ve spent your life being told you couldn’t. Now there’s a voice telling you that you can.

You remember it distinctly. You were fourteen at the time, just really starting to figure out what you wanted to do with your life (it certainly isn’t what society expected from you— but then, society doesn’t expect someone like you anyway, does it?) when you first heard her voice over the radio in your living room. The words she said resonated with you, the promise and ambition that she spoke with. It was almost like she was talking directly to you.

You do your research. You study hard. You tinker away at things in your garage, supplementing your studies in your own way. And five years later, after you’ve graduated, you put in your application.

A letter arrives a few weeks later, emblazoned with the circular symbol you’ve kept in your mind’s eye all this time, and bold lettering on the front— Aperture Science Innovators. It’s addressed to you. You open it, and your fingers tighten around the smooth paper— “congratulations” it says. You’ve been accepted. At the bottom is Her signature. You trace over it with your fingers. Delicately, as gently as you’d handle an irreplaceable machine part.

Two weeks later your bags are packed and you’re boarding a flight to Detroit. The attendant greets you. You hold up your boarding pass and get on. You land a few hours later. Getting a cab would be too complicated— people don’t like to take the time to read, and most can’t speak the way you do. So you walk to the train station, it’s not too far. Just an hour or two. You’ve walked further before.

Flat fields flow by endlessly as the train rattles down its tracks. You lean your head against the window, watching the hues of gold rush by, blurring on into infinity.

The sun is gone when you pull up outside a strange little town, surrounded by chain link fence. You fish through your bag for the packet you’d been sent— and pull out the temporary ID you’d been given. You show it to the gate guard. He lets you in. A man is waiting to show you your dormitory. You shake your head at his offer of a tour— you’ll explore the place yourself tomorrow. There are a few days before you’re actually needed for orientation.

The room is small and plain. A bed, desk, and dresser, and a small closet. That’s alright. You don’t need much. You hang up your few articles of clothing and tuck your shoes next to the door. The bed isn’t soft, but it isn’t hard. You fall asleep quickly, exhausted from your travels.

The next few days are spent wandering. Visiting the little shops, the stations. Peering into labs where you can. Climbing over fences (they could never keep you out) before quickly retreating as a security guard passed. You don’t want to get in trouble before your internship even begins. You wonder if you’ll see her. But you only hear her voice in announcements as you trigger motion sensors throughout the complex.

When work actually starts, it’s tedious. Getting coffee. Taking documents to the shredder and the incinerator. You don’t usually see the labs. Or, well, much of anything. It’s just a lot of running here and there, back and forth at your superiors’ beck and call. It’s tiring. But you do it— after all, you want to be here, you want to do this— and you never give up.

It’s a few months before you see her— before your internship takes you to the main complex. Now you’re checking inventory, sorting mail, sorting records (and chucking the casualty lists into the incinerator as instructed). Occasionally they’ll call you in to fix the coffee maker or the refrigerator.

You hear her voice once, muffled— she’s talking to someone, to a group it seems, just outside the room you’re in. You look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse. Rosy cheeks and bright-red lips, wavy dark hair flowing around her shoulder, a smile on her face (manufactured, you can tell with just this glance that she’s concealing so very much), a bright red scarf tied around her neck.

Your eyes lock for just a second, and the corner of her mouth creases, dimpling her cheeks. Your heart races— that, that was a hint of a true smile. Warmth flushes your own cheeks and you tear your gaze away. Suddenly shy— much shyer than you’ve ever been before.

It doesn’t make sense to you. Not yet. Not until you start seeing her more. Not until her smiles become more frequent and pointed. Not until her gaze lingers on you a little longer than before each time. The fluttery feeling doesn’t go away— and you’re determined more than ever to reach her.

Of course, it happens sooner and easier than you think. She starts requesting you specifically to bring her her coffee. You take a red pen and draw a little smiley face next to her name before giving it to her. When you come up to her office, there’s a sticky note left on the monitor, in that oh-so-hard to read yet absolutely beautiful cursive of hers. At the end of it is a smiley face, so much more elegant and less childish than yours. You keep the note. On her next cup, you add a heart to the dot of the ‘i’ in her name. You start responding to her notes with little notes of your own, your rounded, sometimes scratchy handwriting a stark contrast.

The notes are never there when you get back. You like to think she kept them. You’re pretty sure she did.

A year after you arrive, your internship is over, and you’re up for a promotion— junior mechanic. Probably still more of the same, but you’ll be getting a salary now (not that you really have any use for it since Aperture provides your housing) and you’ll have a permanent place. But you’ll see her less. You’ll miss that, of course— but you’re finally moving beyond your station, moving up in the company.

The day before your internship ends, you get another note. “Wanna get coffee together tomorrow?” Your heart leaps. You scribble out your answer just beneath her writing.

You’re sitting across from her at the cafe table. The cafe serves the same stuff as the cafeteria, but it’s decorated more quaintly, and always costs more for some reason. Maybe because there’s sunlight coming through the windows.

“So, headed up the ladder,” she begins after the two of you sip your drinks (well, she sips her drink, you’re too caught up in the crimson of her lips). “I guess I won’t be seeing as much of you now.”

There’s something behind her cheery voice, a sadness that you’ve caught glimpses of before, a wistfulness deeper than her words. You look up, catching her gaze for a moment and nod in response.

“Well, this is nice. Maybe we should do this more often. Once a week, at least? Or you could come over to my place. We could spend time together. As friends, or something.” With that, she gives you a wink. Your cheeks flush bright red.

You catch the implication right away. Your hero, your inspiration— and now here you are sitting across from her at a cafe while she all but outright asks you out.

You thought you’d be excited for things to grow beyond the notes and the gestures. But you feel different than that. After the initial jolt, the initial flutter, you look back over at her and you see the chasm yawning out between the two of you. The mountain she’s perched on, the valley you’re standing in. Your scratchy print against her elegant cursive, your short, bitten nails against her sharp manicure, your messy ponytail against her shiny waves. You look down at your simple intern’s badge, then over at her emblazoned one. She doesn’t even have a title listed— everyone knows who she is.

You’re miles apart, even if you might have seemed to be closer.

You stand up, your throat knotting up as you shake your head. You can’t look at her now, but you can practically feel the disappointment in her face as she murmurs “oh.” You want to explain but you can’t, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. The last thing you want is to turn Her, your idol, the one who makes your heart flutter, the reason you came here in the first place, down.

But you can’t do this now. Not yet. Not until you’ve reached the top of the mountain. Not until you’re close enough for her to reach out her hand and pull you the rest of the way up.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” she says.

You pause, halfway to the door. You turn back just enough so that you can glimpse her, and give a tiny nod.

After that you throw yourself into your work. Up to senior mechanic, then technician, then engineer— you’re working on Aperture’s new technology now, its most important projects. But you’re still not close enough. Into the test chambers you go at the CEO’s behest, defying death and physics at breakneck speeds, trusting in the tech you’ve helped create to ensure your survival.

Sometimes you look up and see her watching from the observation room, the tell-tale flash of red. You don’t look too long.

The CEO falls ill. He leaves a disturbing message. You try not to think too much of it— you’re almost there.

Your superior fails a test. You’re not surprised. Not hurt, not sad. It just happens and now you’re in the upper echelon. Now you’re at the top— now, you can reach out to her again. Tell her you’ve changed your mind. You can be equals now.

You go to her office. She isn’t there to answer the door. “Don’t you remember Mr. Johnson’s last request?” They say to you. You tried to block it out, but you remember.

You use your pass on a high security door. It opens. Your name is emblazoned too now. Just like hers was.

Before you is a massive operating system. On the screen reads a message: “transfer complete. transfer successful. writing data : do not disconnect subject.”

She’s lying inside a tube-like compartment. A transparent coffin. Wires hooked up to her. Eyes closed. Lips still ruby red.

You reach out and touch the glass. There’s no response. There won’t be a response.

This technology is untested. This is the first human-AI interfacing project Aperture has conducted. There’s only a fifty percent chance it will work, and even if it does, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone. You’ll never clasp her small hands inside your own calloused ones, tuck your head against her shoulder, press your lips against hers.

You’ve finally reached the top of the mountain. Finally reached her. But it was too late. When you crested the summit, she was already gone, and there was only a spatter of crimson left behind to show that she was ever there at all.

#portal #fanfiction #portal fanfic #portal fanfiction #chell #chell portal #portal chell #caroline portal #portal caroline #chelline #cheroline #chell x caroline #portal au #intern chell #intern chell au #my writing #cinna writes #might edit and post to AO3 at some point #but for now have the rough draft

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ft-dads-au · 3 years

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Castles in the Snow

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

Gratsu Winter Solstice 2020 Prompt: Fun in the Snow Pairing: Gray x Natsu

AO3 | FF.Net

January 6th, 2021

“Have you figured out the answer yet?” Gray asked, trying to remain patient even though it was clear to him that Natsu wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the math problem he was supposed to be working on.

“What?” Natsu finally stopped staring out the window long enough to glance at Gray with a guilty expression that he couldn’t help but find incredibly cute.

Hana, Atlas, and Aki were glued to the window as well, oohing and aahing as the backyard accumulated more and more snow.

“What’s the matter with you guys? You’re all acting like you’ve never seen snow before.”

“Well, I mean, they sort of haven’t. It didn’t really snow that much in Edolas, a few inches at the most,” Natsu reminded him, “This is the first big snowfall they’ve ever seen, and they’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”

The longing in Natsu’s eyes made it clear that the kids weren’t the only ones who had been looking forward to it. To his credit, he did try to shift his focus back to studying, staring at the problem he was supposed to solve for about five minutes before his eyes strayed back to the window again.

“Fine, fine, you win,” Gray sighed, realizing any further attempts would be pointless and that Aki would probably love to go out with Atlas and Hana in the snow. “Let’s go play.”

He snorted when his words were immediately met with cheers and dazzling smiles.

“Are you sure?” Natsu asked, “I know I can get this if I keep at it.”

“There’s no point. Your mind’s clearly out there,” Gray shrugged. “We can take a break for one day. It won’t mess up anything. Besides, how can you expect me to say no to those faces?” He nodded towards the kids, who were staring at them with big, pleading eyes, bouncing on their feet in anticipation. “I guess you’re right,” Natsu chuckled and closed his math book as he got up. He stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and expose part of his abdomen, and now it was Gray’s turn to be distracted.

Hana dashed to the coat closet to grab her winter gear and put it on, all the while telling them all the things she wanted to do once they got outside.

“Do you have stuff for Aki?” Natsu asked, his lips twitching at Hana’s running commentary. “I think Erza got two sets for Atlas. He’s welcome to borrow one.”

“Nah, I’ve got his stuff in the car. I’ll be right back.”

Gray put on his jacket and went outside, stopping briefly to collect some of the snow that had accumulated on the steps into his gloved hand and examining it, grinning when he saw how well it stuck together. Perfect snow for playing, fluffy and wet.

He felt his own excitement build. Winter had always been his favorite season, and some of his fondest memories were of playing in the snow with his parents and Rogue once he was a bit older. They’d had snowball fights, built snowmen, collapsed on the snow to make angels, and careened down ever higher hills on sleds for hours, returning home to hot cocoa and cookies as their mom complained that their lips were a worrying shade of blue.

Gray still treasured those memories and looked forward to doing some of those things with Aki now that he was old enough. He rushed back inside, beginning the long process of bundling his son up into his winter gear.

Thankfully Atlas was there to distract him, chattering excitedly as Natsu got him ready. It was only when both boys were dressed that Gray shifted his attention.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put anything else on?” Gray mocked, amused by the ridiculous amount of clothing Natsu was wearing. Snow pants tucked over his snow boots, a padded jacket, the checkered scarf he often wore, a balaclava under a woolen hat, and thick gloves.

“It’s cold,” Natsu shrugged, then looking him over, he urged, “Shouldn’t you get ready? The kids are getting impatient.”

“I am ready, Sunshine.”

Natsu gaped at him, or so Gray imagined since the only part of his face that he could really make out was his eyes.

“You can’t be serious. You’re going to freeze!”

“And you call me a princess? I hate to break it to you, but it’s not even that cold. I’ve got gloves and my jacket. I’m good.” He opened the door that led to the backyard and walked out with Aki and Atlas following close behind. Hana dashed past him in a purple blur.

Snow continued to fall, although the heaviest part of the storm seemed to be over, and Gray stuck his tongue out, trying to catch snowflakes as he’d done when he was little and smiling at the familiar tingle.

Gray thought he saw Natsu staring at him, but it was too brief for him to be sure. He shrugged it off, switching his attention to the boys and chuckling at their antics. Atlas had lain down on the snow and was rolling himself around, turning into a human snowball as more and more snow stuck to him while Natsu somehow managed to take pictures on his phone.

Aki was busy alternating between admiring the snow that stuck to his mittens with an awed expression and giggling at the crunching noise his boots made when he moved, causing Gray’s heart to swell. He quickly took a few pictures to show his parents and walked over to encourage him to play with the others.

He stopped short when he saw the misshapen blob that Hana and Natsu were cobbling together.

“What is that supposed to be?”

“What do you mean? It’s a snowball, obviously.” Natsu held up his creation with a lot more pride than it deserved.

“That thing has no business calling itself a snowball,” Gray scoffed, “It’s going to fall apart in the air long before it hits anything.”

“Will not.”

“Oh yeah? Go ahead, throw it at me.”

Natsu hurled the snowball, but Gray didn’t even bother moving, and just as he expected, it never hit.

"Told you," he said smugly and squatted down to grab some snow off the ground, skillfully shaping it into an almost perfect ball. "My turn," he flashed a wicked grin and threw the snowball, watching with childish glee as it soared through the air and hit Natsu square in the face.

“Hey, no fair, you’re not supposed to throw them in people’s faces,” Natsu protested, wiping the snow off his face with his glove.

“I figured you wouldn’t even feel it through all that padding,” he teased, making no effort to apologize. “That’s what a real snowball feels like.”

“How’d you get it to pack like that?”

“Here, let me show you, and then we can have ourselves a real fight,” Gray offered before Natsu could get it into his head to retaliate. “You too, Hana.”

He cupped some snow between his hands, rotating them slowly to help fuse the snow together. “You just gotta make sure to press down firmly when you rotate your hands. That packs the snow in real good and keeps it from falling apart midair.”

Hana and Natsu watched eagerly as he explained, imitating his actions. Their first efforts were pretty pitiful.

“Just keep at it. Those already look better,” he encouraged, “ You’ll know you’re doing it right when you can stack them up.”

He noticed Aki gazing at the trees with interest and picked him up, walking over towards the nearest one so his son could touch one of its branches, delighting at his laugh when the snow came down. Gray kissed Aki’s chubby cheek and whispered, “I love you, kiddo.”

“I did it!”

Hana’s exalted cry was cut short as the stack of snowballs she’d worked so hard on toppled over when Atlas attempted to grab one.

“Hey!” she started to protest, but whatever expression Atlas had on his face changed her mind, causing her to dissolve into giggles instead.

The sound of Hana’s laughter drew Aki’s attention, and he wiggled in Gray’s arms, wanting to be put down to go investigate what his friends were up to.

Gray obliged, watching as Hana and Natsu created stacks of snowballs for Atlas to topple, and when Aki joined in, he began to make some as well, amused by how easily the two boys were entertained. After a bit, Natsu changed up the game, showing them how to stack the snowballs instead.

He had to admit that his friend was pretty good with kids, which was probably not a huge surprise, considering he seemed to be a big kid himself. It made Gray wonder what parenting might have been like if he’d been married to someone like that.

He analyzed Natsu’s backyard, trying to distract himself from any thoughts of his ex. He was soon struck with an idea.

“Hey Natsu, you got any snow shovels?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

Natsu waddled over to the small shed that sat on their driveway, returning with two adult shovels and two child-sized ones. “What do you have in mind?”

“How do you feel about putting a small sledding hill in for the kids?”

“I think it’s a great idea, just surprised you came up with it, “ Natsu’s eyes crinkled, and Gray could easily visualize the accompanying grin underneath the balaclava. “I bet I can shovel more snow than you, though.”

“In your dreams, Squinty Eyes.”

They decided on an area and began shoveling snow into a large pile and packing it down while Hana kept the boys entertained.

“Getting tired yet?” Natsu huffed.

“This is nothing. I could go all day,” he smirked, noticing Natsu’s discomfort, “You seem pretty done, though.”

“In your dreams, Droopy Eyes.” Natsu unzipped his jacket to reveal a fleece liner underneath, “I’m just getting started.”

“Droopy?! And here I’ve been told they’re one of my best features,” Gray retorted, as he climbed to the top of the makeshift hill, ensuring the snow was packed in well enough. “I think we can stop now. This is probably tall enough for them. You’ll have to impress me with your stamina another time.”

Natsu’s eyes widened in disbelief before he exploded into a fit of raucous laughter.

“Is it ready?” Hana asked, rushing over to them with Atlas and Aki chasing after her.

“Yep, go get your sled from the shed, and can you bring that little inflatable one?”

“Yeah,” Hana ran off, returning with a pink saucer sled and a folded up piece of vinyl, which she handed over to her father to inflate.

“I got it. Wouldn’t want you to have to take off anything,” Gray grabbed the sled out of Natsu’s hands, finding the plastic tube and blowing into it until it had filled up.

Hana climbed the steps he’d carved into the snow with the kid shovels and sat down on her sled, squealing loudly when he gave her a firm push. She slid down the hill, her sled continuing to travel for several feet, leaving a trail in the snow. She was up as soon as her sled stopped, running back to them with a massive smile on her face.

“That was awesome!”

Gray couldn’t help but grin in response, pleased that he’d been able to make her so happy with such a simple act. He wondered how Aki would respond, and knowing his timid nature, he asked Natsu to have Atlas go first.

The sled had a little seat belt built into it, which was nice because the last thing on Atlas’ mind was holding on. He cackled all the way down and then chatted excitedly to Natsu as they returned.

Aki pulled on his leg, eager to take his turn, and Gray helped him into the sled. He let him have a moment to get used to it before nodding to Natsu to give him a push. Although his response to the experience was more muted than the two Dragneel kids, it was no less joyful, and Gray hid his face, fighting back unexpected tears at watching Aki lead a life more in line with what he’d always wanted for him.

Rather than tease him for getting overly emotional, Natsu offered him a half hug and went back to helping the kids sled down the hill until he was ready to rejoin them. It was gestures like that that made him wish that Natsu would see him as someone he could love, rather than just a good friend.

“Dada!”

Aki’s excited cries called him back, and they stayed out until the kids’ teeth began chattering from the cold.

0-0 After they’d helped the kids get out of their layers and put all the winter gear away, Natsu moved to the kitchen. He filled a large glass measuring cup with water, placed it in the microwave, and then started searching through the cabinets. “Do you want some hot cocoa?” he asked Gray once he’d found what he was looking for: a box full of packets of instant hot cocoa powder. “Sorry, what?” Gray stared at him in a mixture of horror and pure disbelief. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” “Huh?” Natsu puzzled, completely lost as to what he meant. “Whatever you think that is-” Gray pointed an accusing finger at the box, “I'm not drinking it. Move over.” He did a quick check through the fridge and the cupboards to make sure Natsu had everything he needed to make real hot cocoa and got to work. Meanwhile, Natsu piled a mountain of cookies onto a plate to go along with it, laughing when Atlas and Aki came begging one off him before he’d even finished. Natsu’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly wiped the cookie crumbs off his hands before checking it. Gray watched his brows knit together as he focused on the message, but his expression soon turned into one of joy and relief. “Well, looks like I get tonight off. Jellal told me not to bother coming in. It’s been quiet all day because of the snow,” he reported happily as he put his phone away again. “You should stay for dinner. The roads are crap anyway.”

“You sure? We wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Sure, we’ve got plenty of frozen pizzas,” Natsu opened the freezer, pointing to an alarming amount of pizza boxes.

“Is that all you eat?” Gray asked in horror.

“Hah, well,” Natsu threaded his fingers through his hair in an embarrassed gesture, “Erza’s the one who usually cooks. She gets those for us for when she’s not around. Oh! I should let her know she doesn’t have to hurry back.”

He pulled out his phone and began texting his sister as Gray mulled the invitation over. He hadn’t really been looking forward to going home yet. Lyon would still be at work, and he knew the apartment would feel empty after having spent the afternoon surrounded by Natsu’s warmth.

That decided him.

“Fine, I’ll stay, but we’re not having frozen pizza.” He rolled his sleeves up and headed to the sink to wash his hands, thinking about the limited number of things he knew how to make.

He opened their pantry and breathed a sigh of relief when he found two boxes of pasta and a few jars of sauce. “Make yourself useful, fill a big pot with water and put it on the stove,” he demanded, moving stuff around to see what ingredients he could use to add to the sauce.

“I dunno, Erza uh- doesn’t really like it when I use the stove,” Natsu murmured, avoiding Gray’s gaze.

“Why? What did you do, set the kitchen on fire?” Gray blurted, laughing at how absurd that was.

When his joke was received with silence instead of the angry denials he’d been expecting, he glanced up to find Natsu quietly pouring the hot cocoa into mugs and placing them on the table in the breakfast nook along with the cookies. He called the kids over and walked back into the kitchen, still avoiding direct eye contact.

“Oh my God, you did! Didn’t you?!”

“It was an accident!” Natsu protested, “I was making dinner when Atlas’ diaper overfilled, and I had to deal with it. By the time I was done with that, I had forgotten the stove was on.”

Gray wanted to give him a hard time about it, but he could absolutely see that happening. He was well aware of how unreliable Natsu’s attention span was at the best of times. It was the one thing they struggled with the most during their study sessions.

“Well, I’ll be the one cooking, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” Gray assured him, pointing him towards the sink once again.

“What about knives? Are you allowed near those, Pyro?” he taunted as he tossed him an onion to chop.

“It was an accident!” Natsu complained, and when that did nothing to stop the teasing, he pouted, “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Gray smirked, quite pleased that he might have finally found a nickname to counter the dreaded Princess.

“Jerk,” Natsu muttered, grabbing a knife and attempting to chop the onion.

They worked in somewhat comfortable silence. As usual, Natsu couldn’t stay mad for long, and soon he was telling Gray funny stories about people he’d met at work, while Gray told him about some of the places he’d traveled to for shoots.

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” Natsu commented, pulling out plates from the cupboards and walking off to set the table.

“You’re not exactly dead yet, you know,” Gray called out, pouring the pasta into a colander and checking on the sauce one last time before turning off the stove.

“Yeah, but come on, when am I ever going to be able to afford it or have the time?”

Gray had no answer to that, so he changed the subject instead, “Food’s ready.”

“Hey, you wanna watch a movie after? There’s this one about dragons and vikings we’ve wanted to watch.”

“How to Train your Dragon?”

“You’ve seen it?”

“I went to the premiere,” Gray explained, but when he saw how disappointed Natsu looked by his admission, he hastily added, “But who really watches the movie at those things, it’s all photo ops and gossip. I’d love to watch it.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, either. Siegrain had felt slighted by some industry bigwig and had spent most of the movie complaining about it. But honestly, even if he’d seen it a hundred times, he’d gladly watch it again if it meant he could experience the beaming smile Natsu flashed his way.

The sun had long ago set by the time they finished eating their dinner, and it wasn’t hard to see that all three kids were going to conk out as soon as they were still for any amount of time. Natsu didn’t seem to notice, though, and Gray didn’t have the heart to dampen his enthusiasm. Not when he was practically bouncing as he went around making popcorn for everyone. Gray volunteered to load the dishwasher, claiming, much to Natsu’s chagrin, that he didn’t want to be responsible for his being banned from yet another kitchen appliance.

Natsu lit the fireplace, placing the screen securely in front while Gray settled the boys on the sofa. After a frantic search for the remote, they were finally ready. They sat down next to each other as the opening credits played. Aki climbed onto Gray’s lap, and Atlas did the same with Natsu, while Hana snuggled up next to her father.

As Gray had predicted, all three kids were out ten minutes later, and then it was just the two of them again, talking and laughing along with the movie. Gray ached to stretch his arm and pull Natsu closer to him, even as Aki snored quietly against him.

He stopped paying attention to the movie, frustrated by how his infatuation with Natsu kept growing outside of his control. Today had only made it worse, enticing him with all the things he’d always wanted in a relationship but had given up on somewhere along the way.

The sound of loud snores startled him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head to discover Natsu had also fallen asleep, his neck tilted at an awkward angle.

Gray stretched his arm, wrapping it around Natsu’s shoulders and slowly pulling him into his chest so he could rest more comfortably. Natsu muttered something in his sleep, snuggling into him with a faint smile that he found adorable.

He sat quietly, content to let everyone sleep while he watched over them, and let himself imagine that maybe, someday, this pocket of happiness could belong to the two of them.

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #gratsu #gratsuwinter2020 #fics #Gratsu Winter Solstice 2020 #prompt: fun in the snow #gray x natsu

49 notes · View notes

hrh-selene-r · 3 years

Text

Beyond Words (4/?)

The Big Sweep

Eight years have come and gone, and it seems that everyone has moved on; Hannah has a new life with a Baby upstate, and even Ray found a bit of happiness in his life, but where does that leave Adam? Still in the same apartment with the same problems. Now, feeling adrift in the stagnation he finds himself in, Adam will try to break old habits and see if he can grow-up. Something easier said than done, that is until he meets you.

This is a bit of a post series/retcon picking up from where Adam’s story left off in Season 6 episode 8 titled “What will we do this time about Adam?”

Adam Sackler x Reader

4.5K Words

Warning: Angst, break up, Depression, cursing.

It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.

‘Jesus. Fuck’ He fixes his hair fidgeting (well dreading, really) the confrontation to come. Her clinginess hasn’t stopped in the least, wanting to go out together, stay in together, have sex in their old haunts; she’s even been texting him more frequently. It’s not that he didn’t like the attention (or the sex), but Jessa’s always been aloof, and independent. If anything, Adam is the clingy one; things used to be so easy before but this change in dynamic was a bit jarring to him, to say the least.

‘She’s just making things harder’

He was a thousand miles away when he finally sat down, and in true Adam fashion, he doesn’t eat, so much as he scarfs down his meal; six eggs (four of them just the whites), and two slices of turkey bacon. It’s while drinking what’s left of his coffee that his phone alerts him of a new incoming text. Fishing it out of his pocket and saw that he had three texts; two from Luke, letting him know that he got the callback for the Jim Anderson play with the details of where it’s going to be, the other asking if he had finished reading another script that he’d sent him.

‘Yesssssss!!’ He cheered on the inside, holding in his urge to scream it out loud. Finally! At least some things were looking up.

The other text was from Jessa, making fun about one of her classmates, with a rather mean spirited snarky remark.

He scoffs a bit after reading it, her smarmy wit coming through her words. It's moments like these that remind him of their friendship, and their shared chemistry. The thought only served to churn his stomach, bringing to the forefront of his mind what he’ll tell her.

‘ “Look Jessa, I’ve been doing some introspection lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re better as friends and that I need some time apart” Too formal? No….Shit! “Jessa let’s be real, you would’ve left me in a few months anyway, so I’m doing us both a favor” ..’

“Motherfuck!” He hissed under his breath.

He looked at the time in his phone and got up. He has to get going, not wanting to be late to meet his building manager.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The building itself wasn’t too far, it was still in Brooklyn, not like he could afford anything more upscale, and even then, rents in the boroughs were outrageous; gentrification saw to that. But for all the artisanal ice cream boutiques and organic green tea, there’s a charm in Brooklyn that has captured his heart; for now, this was home. This place has seen his loves and loses and has seen him at his worst and at his best.

Adam walks up to the front steps where a woman is sitting on the stoop, seemingly waiting; looking at her phone as she does so. She looks up and sees him in the eye, causing him to look away awkwardly to avoid her thinking he was a creep or something, but her gaze was more curious than anything.

She tilts her head sideways to get a better look at him. “Adam?”

‘Do I know her? Oh fuck, have I fucked her?’ he thinks, his mid going through the roster of girls to see if he knew her from somewhere. “Yeah?” he asked cautiously after his mind came up blank. He doesn’t know her....at least he thinks he doesn’t know her.

“I’m Jaime. I’m the building manager? My dad probably told you about me when he showed you the apartment.” She explains, hopefully jogging his memory, as she gets up to face him.

“You’re Jaime?” He asks, taking a good look at her. Her hair is long and dark up, reaching up to her waist; her body, clothed in oversized jeans and a black tank top, is skinny but not too skinny as to make her look malnourished, her complexion is dark, coupled with deep brown eyes, a wide nose full glossy lips and a beauty mark above her left eyebrow.

“Yeah, were you expecting anyone else?” she smirked haughtily at him, making him to quickly reply out an answer to avoid any embarrassment.

“No! I just thought that I’d be meeting your dad.” he corrects himself and holds out his hand to shake her hand in greeting. She responded in kind, extending her hand to shake his. Her hand was adorned by wide silver rings in her fingers, her nails were decorated with an orange nail polish that was mostly chipped away.

“He got held up, asked me to do it. Legally I can, as the building manager. So, you ready to sign?”

“Uh, Yeah.” he answers her as she gestures for him to follow her, leading him up the stairs to what will be his new apartment.

Climbing three flights of stairs, standing in front of a door marked ‘3A’, Jaime places the key in the lock and opens the door before gesturing for him to go in.

The apartment itself was big, or big for New York standards, at least, It was a one bedroom apartment, complete with a separate living room, the bathroom was down the hallway, and with a small kitchen right next to what could be converted to a small dining room. It suited him. The apartment was eerily reminiscent of the one he lives in now, the most remarkable difference is that the kitchen has a separate countertop for a bar, not to mention that the living room was roomier, with a tall window providing the space with a good amount of natural light.

It was thankfully in his budget, and that’s what mattered to him the most, nevermind the fact that he basically found an affordable apartment with this much space; which to be clear, is nothing short of impossible.

The pair start to walk into the empty living room space. “You’re lucky you were able to snag this place. We haven’t gotten the word out yet, or anything about this place. So you got the exclusive first look.” Jaimie mentions as she walks to the kitchen counter, grabbing the papers and the pen.

Not knowing how to respond to her and him having his own special brand of social skills , Adam just answers with a simple “Yeah.”

“If anything you’re lucky you know Ray, being on the city council makes you meet a lot of people in the community; and stick-in-the-mud Ray knows a lot of people.” She smiles at him.

“Yeah well we’ve been friends for a while, now.” He replies to her with a polite smile back.

“Yeah. Anyway, this is the contract.” Jaime changes the direction of the conversation to the issue at hand, sliding the contract file in his direction with a pen in her hand.

“Sign here, and here….I need initials here.” She directed him as he started to sign the papers, trying to keep up with her quick directions.

Once it was finished, she handed him a stack of papers. “Okay, so this is your copy of the lease, and these are your keys. Heads up.” She dangled the keys before throwing them in his direction for him to catch, moving towards the exit to leave to the privacy of his new place. Stopping at the door, Jaimie looks back to face him as he turns around to face her.

“So you already know my name. Rent’s due on the first. If you need anything, my apartment’s on the first floor; apartment ‘1B’. If you need me but I’m not in, just slip a note under my door. ‘Kay? Any questions?”

“Uh, nope.”

“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you Adam Sackler. Welcome to the building.” With that she gave him a small smirk and waved goodbye, shutting the door behind her on her way out; leaving him alone with his thoughts in his new apartment.

It’s official now, he can’t put it off anymore. He’s following the advice Ray gave him; hell, even Josh said it. Here, in the emptiness of his new space, in the bright white light of day, he finally sees what he’s been avoiding for so long.

He loved her, he cared for her, but was he ever in love with her?

He was just as quick to get back to her as soon as he realized that things with Hannah wouldn't work out. He quickly left Jessa once he found out that Hannah was pregnant and….’I don’t know.’ ‘Maybe I’m with her ‘cause it’s easy...I’m so fucked up!’ Adam furiously scrubbed his face with both hands, breathing deeply and exhaling through his nostrils.

Alone, in the middle of the empty apartment, bathed in the light from the windows, he knew. It was just like that time; he knew what he had to do.

It was time to rip the band-aid off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later in the day, after doing a few errands he had to do for the new place, Adam was standing outside of his (old?) apartment building. Looking at the window of the apartment, he takes a deep breath, gathering his bravery to face the situation.

He makes the journey up the stairs, and opens the door. The apartment is empty, judging by the hour, Jessa’s probably still in class. Taking advantage of the circumstances, he starts packing up his things; his mind making a list of the things to take with him .

‘My clothes, books. It's a good thing I don’t have a lot of stuff. I can buy food, and I already got a bed taken care of. I’m gonna have to come back for my work out stuff, my weights and the bench at least.’

Little by little Adam starts to take his favorite things, taking his time to consider what to leave behind. A practice he’s by now well-used to.

The front doors opens and in walks Jessa, her hair in a bun, wearing a loose red tee shirt with denim blue high waisted jeans, the bags in her hand suggest she bought something.

“Hey you in?!” Her voice rings through the small apartment, reaching Adam’s ears, causing him to freeze, inwardly flinching in anticipation of what’s to come. ‘Time to face the fucking music. *sigh*’ He moves out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find her putting things away on the fridge.

“Heeeeeey.”

“I brought some groceries since the fridge was empty.” she told him casually, her head buried inside the refrigerator as she took things from the bag and placed them inside.

“You have a good day?” His stance is awkward, his hands behind his back as he debated on how to best start the conversation; break it to her while hoping to god that she takes it well.

“Not bad, Nancy is a fucking cunt, but that’s just her. Either way…” Jessa approaches him, pulling him for a kiss, smiling as she does so “She’s just irritates me, so...how was your day?” Her hands run through the familiar course of his chest sweetly. A small shrug moved his shoulders nonchalantly as he looked at her. Was this really it? “It was okay, I did a few errands.”

Hearing this her brow furrowed a bit, looking into his eyes as he stared at her. “You did errands, what errands? Didn’t you have an audition?”

“Yeah, look can we talk?” He asks as he nervously fidgets, gesturing for them to sit down on the couch. If there’s something that can be said about Adam is that he’s as subtle as a hammer.

Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he nervously passes a hand through his hair, trying to find a way to get what he needed to say out. Jessa looked at him curiously, waiting for him to talk but finding herself growing impatient as the seconds passed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” She urges calmly.

Adam’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, both of his hands pressed against his face as his fingers covered his eyes. “This isn’t something that I wanna have to tell you. I know this isn’t fair to you, especially after the whole thing with Hannah.”

“I’ve been doing some introspection, or whatever, and um...I’ve been going to meetings…”

“You’ve been going to meetings?” She interrupted, concern etched on her her face as her brows lifted before furrowing in thought.

“Yeah.”

“Well. Have you been drinking?”

“No!” He answered urgently. “I just…” Adam’s lips tense into an outstretched line for a brief moment while he finds a way to verbalize his thoughts.

“I’ve been going to meetings and taking time to think….And…” A few seconds pass. “Fuck” he whispered under his breath in a sigh. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that I; that WE..need time apart.” His eyes searched hers for any indication of understanding or sympathy, but they found nothing. Her gaze was blank as she was deep in thought as he spoke. “ Look, this has nothing to do with Hannah. Whatever she and I had. It’s over, it’s finished.” His baritone voice is soft and calm as he tries to sound as serious as possible. In his mind he is an adult trying to have a serious conversation with his partner. Gone is the lovable boyish demeanor he usually carried; replaced with a grim faced man as he leans over to look at her. His elbows rest on his knees and clasps his hands together, giving away his anxiety.

“I never told you how sorry I am for that...and I hurt you. It’s just that, I don’t know if it was filming the movie or if it was just life in fuckin’ general, but I was reminded of what Hannah and I had. I felt it, so I felt that there was too much history there to not try and set things right. To help her, and be there for her.” The sound of his voice reverberated through the small apartment as he looked at the floor. “ But we’re too different now and want different things. And...Now I feel like I need some space to figure shit out alone. Not just for me, because I really do care about you, Jessa.”

Jessa looks at the ground in silence, not wanting to look at him in the eyes and see her worst nightmare.

“I’m gonna be moving out, take the time to focus on my life. You can stay here, keep most of the stuff. I’ll still pay for your classes. I meant what I said.”

Jessa nods slowly, pursing her lips while processing his words.

“Okay...if that’s how you feel.” Her tone is a bit above a whisper, feigning understanding in her short words. She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her legs on the couch with a nonchalant expression. Like everything else, nothing fazes her.

Adam scoffs at her response, unable to believe how she can be so calm while he was essentially breaking up with her. No, he saw what this was. “ Oh, come the fuck on Jessa, this is just like last time. Do you seriously not give a fuck? I know you feel something. Get angry; hit me, throw something at me. For fuck’s sake, it isn’t good to bottle everything in...Just tell me how you feel.”

A deep sigh went through her nose, her eyes showed that something was beneath the surface as she shakes her head slightly and looks at him. “What do you want me to say? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re communicating; and if this is how you feel, then there’s no point in fighting against it.”

‘Un-fucking-believable.’ Adam moves his left hand towards his cheek, lightly scratching at the hairs in his stubble. “That doesn’t mean that you’re not feeling anything; that your feelings aren’t valid.” He lets out a breath of frustration as he realizes that she put up her walls to him and she won’t budge. ‘The hitting and screaming would’ve been better.’ “Fine.”

Keeping with her attitude, Jessa clicks her tongue and leans back lazily before asking the dreaded question. “So when do you move out.”

“I was thinking about leaving today.”

“Oh...so you have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. My stuff’s mostly packed, and I’ll come back for the rest later...But I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Adam, stop worrying! You’ve done nothing wrong. If you feel you have to do this; you gotta do what you gotta do.” A sardonic smile graces her face. She makes everything sound so simple; black and white.

He gently grabs her tattooed wrist in his large hand and looks deeply into her green eyes, trying to find a way to get through to her, to really talk to her.

“Hey..I still care about you. okay?” He told her gently, almost as if she were a child.

“Yeah.” Her response was short and curt.

Her walls remain up; impenetrable in their might as she refuses to show him, to show the world an ounce of vulnerability. A defense mechanism that took years in perfecting. An aloof facade she shows the world.

Jessa moves to get up, leaving him alone. Adam’s well aware that this was just a front, Jessa hasn’t changed,. He couldn’t tell how bad it was, but he’s doing this for her too. He knew it’d be worse if he stayed.

No other words were said as she sat crossed legged in their bed, smoking a cigarette while he finished packing. In the back of her mind she wonders if this is what being in a relationship is really like; being off and on, having that person come in and out of your life….It’s what her father did. ‘No’ She knows that’s not true. She’s seen people get married, have families and be happy. And besides, Adam’s not remotely like her father, he’s not like the previous men in her life. He’s different.

She moves to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass or orange juice, pretending that nothing is wrong, desperately trying to ignore his presence. She found it unbearable to watch as he left her for a second time. This time she’s more aware of her feelings for him, and she dreads what will become of them, of her while watching Adam go in and out of the apartment; getting his things downstairs.

He tried to be as quick as possible; throwing this mindlessly into garbage bags, making sure he took only what was important to him.

The hardest part about breaking up is trying to leave and stay on good terms. And he’s attempting to do just that. He figured that if he could do it with Hannah, maybe it was possible with Jessa.

Adam reached into his pocket and fished out his keys, he placed them on the counter beside the sink.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” He said awkwardly, looking at her one last time. His mouth is etched in a pout and his eyes are sullen at her lack of reply, but he still waits a few seconds for her, almost as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t even look at him as he made his way out of the apartment.

Closing the door behind him, Adam takes a moment to just stand there, his mouth still set in a pout, his brows furrowed as he feels the weight of what’s happened.

Both lovers stand on either side of the closed door, each hoping that the other would take a step forward to open the door; to go back to the other, but neither one does. Adam stays there, feeling the guilt over what he’s done slowly spread; lamenting not just the loss of his lover, but the loss of his best friend.

‘It had to be done. There’s no point in staying anymore.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside of the apartment, Jessa just stood there, staring at the door; willing him to come back to her. Her face morphs from boredom to one of pure heartbreak. Her eyes start to water as her breathing changes to an erratic pace.

In the cold emptiness surrounding her, she couldn’t pretend anymore. Her mask vanishes, revealing the abandoned girl underneath, watching as her friend walked out of their home and her life.

This time she can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt; can’t deny the devastation she feels as her world blurs. She places the palm of her hands over her eyes as the tears overflow.

‘He’s done this before, and he came back; he’ll do it again.’ She reasons in her desperation, clinging to the idea that Adam will be back, that this is just a pattern. Because the alternative would be to accept that he left her for good.

‘Fucking Hannah!’ As she cries her thoughts become more chaotic. ‘Don’t go. Don’t do this to me.’ Her inner voice cries as she slides slowly towards the floor, bringing her knees towards her chest.

‘This is just how he is.’ She reasoned, still expecting him to come back, her mind repeating his last words over and over. He did say he cared about her, he still loved her; but as she continued to reason his return, a small part of her feared she was just clinging to an empty promise, that she was stupidly holding on to hope...and that he really did leave her.

The silence inside the apartment is maddening, the space is cold; isolated from the world filled only with her small cries.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He should be used to moving, considering how often he did in the past eight years, but no, it was always a bitch. And the worst part about it? Doing it because of a break up. To say that it was awkward was an understatement, but he needed to end things well off with Jessa. God knows he’s ran into people from his past before enough times to know better. New York may be populated by millions of people, but it can turn into a very small place, when Karma feels like it. It’d be worse if he didn’t do it this way, he’s sure of it.

After getting the last of his things upstairs, he starts unpacking bit by bit. He doesn’t have a refrigerator yet, or a bed for that matter; those come in tomorrow, but Adam has been through worse, and one day without furniture hardly phases him. That being said sleeping on the floor isn’t something he’s looking forward to. Plus, this is what friends are for isn’t it? ...to crash on their couch when needed?

Adam takes his phone out, scrolling through the few contacts saved in it. He could ask Ray; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d stay at his place, especially after a breakup. He could also ask Josh, he had offered his couch to let him crash before; maybe the offer’s still on the table.

‘Screw it.’

He hits on Josh’s contact and places the device next to his ear, waiting for a response on the other side of the line.

“Hey.” Josh’s deep voice sounds through the phone’s speaker.

“ Heeeey...listen, I got a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble, or whatever.” Adam started nervously, scratching his head as he talked.

“Yeah, man. Shoot.”

“I broke up with Jessa.” He blurted out. “I moved out.”

There was a slight silence on the line before Josh responded. “Well, shit. Do you need a place to stay? Until you find something?”

“I already got a place. I just need a place to crash until I can get the bed and fridge brought in here.”

“ Well you’re in luck, then. I’m actually on my way back from work. I gotta stop to pick up a few things and then I’m headed home.” Josh explained in his easy-going tone; like nothing bothers him at the moment. “ I’ll let Vanessa know; she’s coming over tonight.”

Adam hesitated “ I don’t wanna shit on your plans.”

“ Oh, fuck off. You’re not. Dude, trust me, Ness loves you. She’d be pissed if I didn’t help out. My sofa es su casa.”

Even though Josh can’t see him, Adam smiles at his friend’s words; his teeth peeking out from his lips and the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he does so. “ Yeah, okay. Just let me know when you’re at home. Text me or whatever.”

“You got it. Tonight we’re eating homemade Mexican food.”

“Yeah, Thanks.”

“Alright, see ya.”

With that, Adam hung up, comforted in the knowledge that he’ll be able to sleep in a comfortable, and most importantly cushioned, tonight. At least now he had a place to call his, and by pure stroke of luck, the apartment’s rent wasn’t as high as it could be. He’ll furnish it, little by little. He lives in New York, so someone’s bound to not want a couch somewhere. That leaves the matter of his kitchen. He’d have to buy glasses, plates and food, to at least have the very basics.

‘A bookshelf in the living room. I’ll put my bench in the bedroom...clothes go in the closet, I gotta get a chest or something with drawers..’

He turns to pick up the trash bags storing his clothes, taking them through the small hallway towards his bedroom closet. He’d have to do laundry before the end of the week, he reminded himself as he realized that he was in such a rush to pack everything that he didn’t think that some of his shirts in the bag used to be strewn across the floor of the apartment and stank of sweat.

He spent the next few hours doing what he can, organizing his clothes between what’s clean and what was to be laundered, he took his time to make sure everything was arranged to his liking; a far cry from how he was living 8 years ago. Back when he was an aimless mess living in an apartment cluttered with tools and random pieces of reclaimed wood; when he would rather fuck around with no strings attached than be emotionally vulnerable with someone.

To Adam, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Gone was the aloof fuckboy with an awkward haircut and no direction. Now in his place stands a more empathetic and responsible man.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard his phone come to life, sounding an alert to let him know he had just received a text and prompting him to look for it. Reaching for his back pocket, he fishes out his phone to see a message from Josh came in saying ‘Just got in.’ on the lit up screen. He’d finish unpacking later; now he was hungry, and Mexican seemed like just the thing…

——————————————————

Hey guys, I’m baaaaack!!!! :D

2020 has been a hell of a year, but I still wanted to end it on a good note. So here we have a short but sweet chapter where Adam wants to leave Jessa to focus on himself, but he knows how fragile and lonely she can be and tries to do it gently....Does it work? We'll have to find out. Safe to say, Jessa will be a reoccurring guest star on this show, so we’ll see how Adam handles this and how he manages to move on. So, leave a comment and let me know what y’all think.

Mucho Love and and a happy New year!!😊

Xoxo Selene R

Tag list for some friends (let me know if you’d like to be added)

@kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @tsarinastorm @alexdaleks @thrivingamidstchaos @klauscarolove @misskitred @ah-callie @sarcasticbitch @jynz-andtonic @oh-adam @commanderbensolo @kylos-wren @adamsnackler @patersonn-kylo @adamsnacc-kler @ellelaconiwrites @that-only-exists-in-my-mind @ktellmeastory @fallinallinmendes @noocturnalchild

#Beyond Words #adam sackler #girls hbo #adam sackler fanfiction #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler/reader #adam sackler/you #adam sackler x you #reader insert #adam/jessa #adam/reader #adam driver #readerchan #fem reader #fix it fic #fix it #girls fanfiction #retcon #post series

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leafs-lover · 4 years

Text

24 Days:2

A/N:This isn’t going to be a full on series, just a few one off’s for fun ;)

Summary: It’s been a few weeks since you last saw Mat or Anthony. Your life is getting back on track when you run into an old acquaintance.

Warnings: Smut, anal fingering, oral sex (male and female) 18+, DNI if you are a minor

Word Count: 3213

Series Masterlist

Part II

It’s been almost 5 weeks since you met Mat and Anthony at the bar. That night helped you; about a week later you found an amazing loft to sublet a few blocks from your work. You were going out with your friends and had even joined some dating apps. You hadn’t met with anyone yet but you were talking to a couple people.

You don’t feel like going home right away so when you leave your desk you decide to head towards a local coffee shop someone told you about, it’s in the opposite direction of your apartment by a few blocks but apparently they have really good sandwiches.

You walk outside and it is starting to snow. It’s not a light fluffy snow, the temperature is hovering around freezing so it’s a combination of rain and snow. You pull your hood up as you walk to the coffee shop.

While waiting to order you look at your phone when you hear your name being called from behind you. You turn around and see a man with brown eyes looking at you. He has thick dark hair under his black baseball cap. He has wide shoulders and you can see his grey sweater poking out from under his dark coat and scarf.

“Mat” you say pulling him in for a quick hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good, been a little busy with hockey and everything but good. What about you?”

“I’ve been doing well. I found an apartment nearby and moved in last week.”

“Can I help you?” you hear from the barista behind you.

You place your order before you hear Mat add his coffee to your order. You laugh as you go to pull out your wallet when you hear Mat’s credit card tap. “You didn’t have to” you say looking to him. He just shrugs as you both move to wait for your coffees. You hear your names are called and you move to the counter to collect your drinks and sandwiches.

“You have some time? Maybe we can sit and catch up.”

Not wanting to be alone in your apartment just yet you agree. You sit down, both of you removing your coats. You see how tight sweater is is and you feel wetness begin to pool in your core.

“So you live near here you said?” Mat asks.

“Yeah just a few blocks over. It’s pretty close to where I work.”

“Right. You work at…” he trails off “I actually don’t know what you do for work.”

“We didn’t do a lot of talking last time” you both laugh lightly. “I’m a marketing coordinator for an agency here.”

“Oh that’s awesome, do you like it?”

You both continue with your casual conversation when you feel him shift closer to you, his leg casually brush up against yours. You smell his cologne as he continues telling you some funny story from his most recent road trip. As the story ends you are laughing and you casually grab his bicep. You see his Adams apple bulge as he takes a breath.

“So you snuck off pretty early the last time I saw you” he says his brown eyes searching your face for answers. You were hoping he wouldn’t bring that up. When you woke up that morning it was early around 6am and both boys were still asleep. Tito had turned the other way, but Mat still had an arm around you. You thought about trying to fall back asleep, staying and maybe have breakfast with them, but you knew what this was. You used them, and it was great but you didn’t want to get tied up in any morning awkwardness so you slipped out of bed and got dressed before making your way back to your hotel.

“Yeah” you blush slightly. “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake either of you so I left.”

“I thought it was maybe because you regretted it” he says lightly.

You stroke his arm lightly “no definitely not that” your cheeks fully red. “I uh, I had a really good time with you guys, I regret nothing.”

Mat smiles “I’m glad you had fun” he says brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shift slightly and bring your lip close to his ear “so much fun. Maybe enough to do it again sometime.” He shifts slightly in his chair but before he can respond you look at your watch. “Well I should get going, it’s getting late” you say. Your coffees long empty.

“Yeah of course” Mat says, standing to help you put your coat on. Mat opens the door and you step outside noticing the temperature has dropped a few degrees “let me walk you home” he says holding an arm out for you to hold while walking “oh such a gentlemen” you joke.

“There is ice on the sidewalks now that the rain has frozen, wouldn’t want you to slip in those heels” he points to the 4 inch black Louboutin stilettos on your feet.

It begins to snow harder during the walk, and by the time you arrive at home Mat has a layer of snow on his shoulders and ball cap. You stop in front of the building doors and you can see his ears and nose are red from the cold.

“Aren’t you a Canadian hockey player? Shouldn’t you be used to the cold?” you joke.

He laughs “Damn Canadian stereotype. I’m from a town near Vancouver; it doesn’t typically get down below freezing there. And on the ice I typically move pretty quickly and build up a sweat.”

You laugh lightly “do you want to come and warm up? Can’t have the islanders forward getting sick” you say opening the door allowing Mat to enter first.

You get on the elevator and ride to your floor, you pull your hood down and Mat brushes the snow off your jacket. You lead him down the hall to your apartment. You unlock the door, as you enter you remove your heels and coat, hanging it and Mat’s in your closet.

You move to the kitchen and begin making hot chocolate “this place is nice” you hear Mat say as he walks through the apartment. “Thanks, the old tenant is someone I worked with. She got transferred to L.A. so I was able to move in pretty quickly.”

You walk to Mat and hand him the hot chocolate as he stands at your windows taking in the view “thanks” he says as you turn to sit on the couch. You sit on the couch and put your legs up on the coffee table as you grab your blanket. You spread it over your legs as Mat sits beside you as you fall back into an easy conversation with him. After he finishes his hot chocolate he sets the mugs on the coffee table and puts his arms on the back of the couch, his hand lightly touching the back of your neck.

“You want a beer, or wine” you ask as he begins stroking your neck “water or something?”

“Nope I’m good” he says, his large hand gently stroking your neck. He turns his body to face you as he applies a little more pressure to your neck; you shift to put your back in front of him. He uses his other hand to pull your hair away and starts massaging your neck and shoulders, you moan lightly at the feeling. Mat shifts to be closer to you as he keeps the pressure on your neck. “You’re so tight” he says as his mouth is inches behind your ear. You feel light kisses on your collarbone “just a long day at work” you explain. “Want to talk about it?” he says in between kisses.

“No, won’t help” you moan.

“I know something else that might help” he says biting your neck lightly.

“What are you waiting for then?” you question seductively. You feel his mouth latch on and begin sucking on your neck as his hands drop to your lower back, his hands playing with the hem of your shirt.

His hands pull your shirt over your head as his mouth latches back to your neck sucking and biting. His hands wrap around you grabbing your boobs, squeezing them. His left hand moves to unclasp your bra freeing your breasts.

His hand begins pinching your nipple as your back arches, his mouth is leaving marks across your neck. You turn your head slightly as Mat shifts his mouth to yours, bringing you in for a deep kiss. You suck his bottom lip as you turn around to face him, straddling him in the process.

You remove his sweater and reveal his defined chest and abs; you smile quickly before bringing your mouth to his neck. You bite his neck before moving down to his chest, his hands gripping your ass. You rock against him, looking for some friction. Mat groans as your hands slide lower to his belt, removing it from him.

His hand grips your ass tightly as he stands up “bedroom?” he asks as you continue marking his neck. You pull back slightly to point with your head toward the bedroom. He carried you to the bed and drops you on it, your boobs bouncing as you land causing Mat to grin.

He reaches over you and undoes your pants and pulls them down revealing your blue lace thong. A smile comes across his face “these are pretty” he says climbing over you. His mouth attaches to your nipple sucking on it, causing your back to arch off the bed. Mat uses his hand to push your hips down as his mouth continues sucking your boob, his mouth begins to slide lower. He places light kisses on your stomach as his fingers stroke over your clothed core.

A smirk crosses his face as he feels the wetness through your underwear “you need me baby?” he questions as he sucks just above your underwear. He moves lower biting the inside of your thigh, moving closer to where you want him most as he pulls your legs over his shoulders.

He continues to bite and kiss your thighs slowly inching up until his you feel his breath against your core.

“Mat” you moan out as a dark chuckle leaves him. He places a kiss on top of your underwear and slides his tongue out. “Stop teasing me” you say as he continues to press his tongue into your clothed core. “Been a while?” he teases before biting your underwear and pulls it down a bit before hooking his index finger to pull it off your legs.

His mouth returns and places light kisses on your clit, as his hands tightly grip your hips, likely leaving marks. He places a few more light kisses on your clit before he sucks on it. You go to arch your back but his hands hold your hips down. He continues to suck on you before sliding down lower. He licks up your folds his tongue brushing your clit “forgot how good you taste.” He dives in deeper, pushing his tongue into your folds, licking the inside of your walls.

Your hands reach down and grip his hair as he keeps licking the inside of you. He brings one hand down and inserts two fingers into you, and begins pumping them slightly. He uses his fingers to make a scissor as his tongue flicks inside you. You moan loudly, hands tightly gripping you hair. Your sounds encourage Mat to go faster and push deeper into you.

You feel your orgasm building inside you “Mat” you pant out.

“You gonna cum?” he questions curling his fingers in deeper.

You moan out “yes” as your legs squirm slightly. He continues opening you with his fingers as he licks and flicks the inside of your walls. Your orgasm comes over you as your legs shake and you pant his name. Mat continues his pace until you come back around, then he drops your legs and crawls up. You see your juices on his lips as he wipes them off his chin, smiling.

He brings you in for a deep kiss, you can taste yourself on him “your amazing” he says pulling back slightly before attaching to your neck. You slide your hands down and start undoing his pants, pushing them down his large thighs. He pushes them down further and off his legs, you palm over his boxers and feel his hard cock through them. His head falls back as you continue palming him, your other hand comes up and grabs the elastic band pushing them down, his hard cock springs forward.

You stare at it before rolling him onto his back and begin to stroke him. He is normal in length but he is significantly thicker than most men, you don’t remember him being this thick. You lick your lips before bringing your mouth down to his cock licking a stripe up it. You take him completely in your mouth, stretching as wide as you can for him. You bob up and down on him, swirling your tongue around his shaft.

His hands come down to your hair, pulling it into a pony tail while you continue to bob on him, looking up at him through your lashes. You feel his hips lift slightly as you bring a hand up to massage his balls. You can tell he is getting close as you continue bobbing on him when he pulls you off of him; a pout coming across your face.

He smiles before bringing your face down to his, engaging you in a passionate kiss. You reach into the side table and grab a condom tearing it open and rolling it on him. His hand grips your nipple, pinching it as he sits up. He pulls you to straddle him as you drop down on him. You feel your walls expand around him “oooh” slips from your mouth.

Mat gives you a minute to adjust to his size before he begins rocking under you. You brace your hands on his shoulder as you rise up and down, his hands gripping firmly on your ass.

Your head falls back as you find a steady pace, Mat’s mouth attaches to your nipple sucking on it.

“Mat” you moan loudly.

“You feel so good baby” Mat says as your nails dig into his shoulders. You rise up and drop on him as he simultaneously thrusts up into you “fuck you feel amazing.” He pulls you off of him and flips you so you are on your hands and knees. You bend your back as you feel him pushing against your entrance. He pushes in you as your hands grip the sheets below you.

He sets a fast pace as his hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock.

“Fuck” you scream out, gripping the sheets tighter.

One of Mat’s hands leave your hip and slap your ass, you wince at the pain. Mat chuckles “from what I remember you liked that” he says as you turn your head and look at him over your shoulder. His hand smacks your ass again, his eyes locked on yours. A smirk crosses his face as you feel tears build in your eyes from the feeling.

His hand returns to your hips as you feel him begin to get sloppy behind you. You can feel your walls beginning to tighten as you bring a hand down to your clit and start rubbing circles on your sensitive bud. Mat see’s your hand drop down “cum for me pretty girl” he spits out

Your orgasm begins to rip through you, you clench around Mat’s dick. He keeps going fucking you through your high as you moan loudly. As you feel yourself come down from your high Mat’s dick twitches as he fills the condom. He doesn’t pull out before collapsing on top of you. He rolls slightly so you are both on your side, you can feel sweat on your back as your breaths return to normal.

“Shower?” Mat mumbles into your shoulder.

“Yeah bathroom is through there” you say pointing “I’ll meet you in there going to get a drink.”

You separate and walk to the kitchen. You walk into the bathroom and see mat sitting on the counter as the water warms up. You hand him the glass as he takes sip, you place your hands on his shoulders and graze down his chest. His hands grip your ass as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He walks into the shower and pushes you against the cool tile wall; he kisses you passionately as your hands tangle in his hair. Your tongues fight for dominance as you feel him harden under you. He groans as you continue kissing before sliding you down slowly onto his member. You bite into his shoulder at the sensation from your 2 previous orgasms; he waits a moment before he begins thrusting up into you.

“Fuck Mat” you moan your head falling back to the shower wall. His hands have a firm grip on the back of your thighs as he bucks his hips pushing up into you; his mouth begins sucking on your exposed neck as a low growl leaves his lips. Your nails scratch down his arms, filthy sounds filling your bathroom as he continues his pace.

You feel your third orgasm coming over you, and you want to stop it. Unsure you can handle it, the sensation might be too much.

“You close babe” Mat smirks, his face says he knows you are close, a loud moan leaves your mouth.

He brings a hand around to your ass and begins grazing your hole. Your eyes light up at the feeling “yeah?” he questions. You nod slightly as he grins “such a fucking slut” he says as he slowly slides his index finger in and begins pumping it in and out of you before he slides a second finger in. He plays with your hole, his dick still thrusting deep inside you. Your back arches as you grip his biceps. You squeeze them, nails digging in deep as you feel him becoming sloppy. “You're such a dirty slut” Mat spits out.

His pace keeps going as his fingers continue pushing deep in you. “I’m gonna” you pant out.

“Let go baby” he says stretching you in two places. Your orgasm comes over you, more intense than your previous two. It is long, and Mat keeps going through your high, your walls clench around him. As you finally come through your high Mat has pulled his hands from your ass and returned them to your thighs. He thrusts into you a few more times before he pulls you off of him, brings his hand around his member and pumps a few times before finishing on his stomach.

You lean against the shower wall, needing the wall to help you stand as you are unsure your legs fully work yet. Mat takes a few steps over to you and kisses you “I’m getting your number this time.”

You chuckle lightly before pulling his lips down to yours.

#mat barzal #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fic #NY Islanders #NY Islanders Smut #NY Islanders Fic #NHL Fic #NHL Smut #mat barzal x reader

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b3k1720 · 3 years

Text

Christmas stories with Jacob ✨🎄

London December 24, 1875

@nemo-my-name-forevermore @ct-5445 @thedragonqueenfan @assassins-and-hidden-blades : I thought you guys might like this 🥺👉👈

Snow fell gently over the bustling British city, falling in to the muddied streets and sending a chill through the frosty air.

With the sun setting and the world getting colder, store clerks were closing for the Christmas season.

Pubs were opening up their doors with warm light and Yuletide cheer for both the merry and the drunk to enjoy.

Fortunately that would not be the case for one assassin.

“Mama when is daddy coming home?” A little girl asked as she pressed her small hands up against the frosted glass, looking out in the whitened streets expectantly.

“Very soon Amelia, darling now come away from the window before Jack Frost nips your nose” Rebekah announced with a smirk as she took the pouting little madam away and sat her next to the fireplace.

“Do you think daddy will tell us a story before bed?” Her other child, a small boy with whisps of browny blonde hair piped up as he slipped down from his fathers large armchair to the floor, letting his body flop out of exaggeration.

“We shall have to see my darling but he might be exhausted from work” their mother answered with a smile at her children’s innocence.

“Now come along supper is ready so go clean those little hands and faces”

It was not long after dinner had finished that the door to the little two story house opened, unexpectedly slamming from the wind; snow flying in the house before quickly slamming close again.

Jacob stepped in, barely taking off his hat and scarf before squeals and stampeding of small feet could be heard coming towards the front room.

“DADDY!”

Quickly the two small children latched on to the large assassin, barely letting him go.

“Ah there’s my little rooks” Jacob chuckled as he picked both of them up and pulled them to his chest.

“Oh Emmet, Amelia your both so warm, have you been by that fire all day?” He laughed as both the small children giggled.

“Daddy your very cold!”

“Let go!” They both cried out in hellish little giggles.

“Why should I your both SO warm and toasty!” Jacob chortled as he tickled them, causing more squealing to ensue.

Rebekah quietly came to see, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Alright you lot that’s enough for now or you won’t fall asleep” she announced in a jokingly warning tone.

“Quite right my love” Jacob answered with grin as he let the children down.

Now being able to take off his coat, top hat, scarf and weapons hanging them on the stand before pulling off his large boots and putting them by the door.

“Now my darlings was there something you wanted to ask your father?” Rebekah announced motioning to Jacob as he sat down in his chair by the open fire.

“Really and what would that be?” He grinned as he motioned them to come climb up on the arm rests.

“Well...daddy...perhaps could we have a Christmas story?” Amelia asked with large begging eyes.

“Please daddy” Emmett begged with earnest, both the children loved hearing stories from their father, he always made them so exciting!

“Hmmm well I’ll definitely tell one if mother dearest would put the kettle on” he joked with a wink towards his wife.

“Already on it darling” She chuckled before heading to the kitchen.

Jacob then carefully pulled his children up on the large chair with him, holding them close to keep them warm despite the fire.

“How about I tell you a story my father would tell me and Aunty Evie each year when we were children” he announced with a warm smile.

“It’s called the night before Christmas”

“Does this story have Saint Nick daddy? Amelia asked with curiousity.

“Yeah it has to have Santa!” Emmett cried which caused the assassin to chuckle.

“Of course it does, why would I tell it without the big fat jolly man?”

Both the children looked to each other and nodded, both satisfied by this answer.

“Here we go nice warm tea for everyone before bed” Rebekah announced gently before carefully handing a cup to her husband and placing the tray near the chair before grabbing a cup for herself and sitting close by.

Everyone settled in, Amelia and Emmett cuddling in to their father while Rebekah leaned closer to listen.

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;”,

Jacob started to recite the verse he had almost memorised from Ethan

“The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

“Oh!” Both Amelia and Emmett exclaimed before their father chuckled and continued.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!

On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

The children couldn’t help but giggle as Jacob made the motions of rustling reigns, neither could Rebekah stifle a laugh.

“As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

“Like jelly!?” Emmett laughed before Amelia shushed him with such a serious expression before their father could continue, she was far to enthralled with the story!

“He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;”

With this line Jacob also did wink towards his children who were now starting to yawn despite themselves.

The next verses were now more quite, as to lull and calm them....

“He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night...”

Jacob ended in a whisper as now both little Amelia and Emmette, his two little rooks were both dozing off.

“Alright my darlings time for bed” Rebekah hushed gently before taking the smallest of them from their fathers arms.

Laying Amelia over his shoulder Jacob followed his wife upstairs to the children’s shared room before placing them in bed.

“Sweet dreams my little rooks...” Jacob murmured softly, giving them both small kisses on the heads, tucking them in for the long winters night...

#jacobsfamily #assassinscreedsyndicate #jacob frye #fluff #child oc #christmas one shot #assassinsChristmas

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pls-let-me-out · 3 years

Text

Invisible String

Epilogue

12th of February

From Will to: the Royal Asshole

landed. where r u? i’m lost

From the Royal Asshole

At the entrance. Where else would I be?

From Will to: the Royal Asshole

where I landed so you could help me find the way out

tbh it’s like u don’t care that I get lost easily

From the Royal Asshole

Turn around, idiot.

Niccolò has grown even more beautiful during the time they’ve spent apart. Will’s breath is caught in his throat for a moment that feels like forever, and they just stand there, looking at one another, a secret challenge between them, to see who will break first and look away.

Niccolò is growing out his hair, which he told Will about, because he ‘wants to see how long they can get’. (“They are hair, doofus. They can reach your waist, if you let them. Honestly, are you just trying to piss me off?”)

The air is cold, and they both wear several layers of clothing. Niccolò is in New York for ‘very important business’, which means that Will has come all the way here from Austin to spend some time together. Seeing each other only on FaceTime is hard, but Will has to admit that it’s still good. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s something.

Will doesn’t know whether he has moved or Niccolò has, but next thing he knows they are crowding each other’s space, and then hugging so hard it should hurt. The soul-mark on Will’s shoulder throbs, but not in pain. Niccolò still has a faint smell of pomegranate, and Will knows, as he takes a deep breath, that he’s going to deny doing so for the rest of his life.

They finally separate, and Nico takes both his and Will’s luggage. Niccolò is staying in some fancy hotel, while Will is going to be with his siblings, in his old room. When he told them he’d be visiting, Austin just sighed. ‘Where am I going to put my wardrobe? It’s literally all on your bed, Will.’ Will ignored him.

“How is everything going?” Niccolò asks, as they exit the airport, and cold air comes hard and unforgiving.

Will shivers. “It’s going, I guess. My grandma is happy to have me there with her for a bit, and I think we needed it.” He tucks his scarf over his nose, sniffling in the cold. A car stops in front of them, too fancy to not attract any attention.

Will gives Niccolò a side-glance. “How fancy, Your Highness.”

Niccolò blushes, but it might be the cold. “Fuck off, will you?”

Will bites back a grin. “Maybe I will. Maybe I Fitz-will.”

Niccolò shakes his head, but a fond and tender smile breaks out on his face, and they climb inside the car. Warm air is far more welcome than that outside. Niccolò rubs his hands together, with a little pout on his face that makes him look even more beautiful.

“How is your grandmother doing?” he asks.

He often does, he’s nice like that. He always sounds interested in Will’s life, even when Will himself realizes how boring it should be, to someone who lives between throne rooms and ancient gardens. Will tells him of his grandmother’s friend, Alice, but he doesn’t say that she’s trying to set him up with his daughter. People don’t recognize him as Prince Niccolò’s soulmate, and the people of his grandmother’s neighborhood know him as Naomi and Apollo’s son.

Will asks him how things are going in Elysium. Niccolò talks about his father, who stubbed his toe in a wall the other day, and has shouted so hard that the guards rang the bell, thinking they were under attack at three in the morning. As he tells the story, Niccolò leans forward to laugh, and hits his forehead against the driver’s seat.

It’s easy to forget the way they said goodbye the day after Christmas. They have been texting almost non-stop ever since, and sometimes they called each other, even if hanging up hurts.

“So, this event of yours,” Will says. He clears his throat. “What time does it end?”

“Late.” Niccolò huffs, crossing his arms on the chest. It seems like they’ll be going to be stuck in traffic for quite some time, but he’s looking out of the window as though he’ll never be here again. “I don’t even want to go there.”

“Prince business and all that,” Will encounters. “You don’t have much choice, do you?”

“Not really, no.” He clears his throat, and it’s terrible how awkward things get when they both remember he’s prince at the same time. “Unless I renounce the crown, I guess.”

Oh. Yes, that. Will snorts, amusement clear in his face as he flashes Niccolò another side-eyed glance. “As if.”

“Yah, I could live like one of you peasants,” Nico grumbles, sinking a bit in his seat.

Will snickers. “You peasants? Say that in Texas, and you’ll get shot.”

“I really hope that’s not a threat, principino,” Niccolò says, his voice low, little more than a whisper, as smooth as a caress.

Will blushes a deep red, ignoring the shiver that runs down his back, he looks out the window. Yeah, the view is very interesting. He tries to keep his eyes there for the rest of the ride, but he doesn’t have half the necessary strenght, not when Niccolò is sitting right next to him.

When he turns, Nico is already looking at him.

Kayla opens the door with a loud shriek, making Austin startle a bit. He pushes her aside, to step up and hug Will. He takes Will’s face in his hands, turning it left and right.

“What the hell? How do you have a tan?”

“I’ve been in Texas, you know, this past month or so,” Will says, words muffled by the way Austin is squishing his cheeks.

Austin hums. Kayla shrieks again, jumping back, and only then does Will realize that he hasn’t introduced Niccolò yet. He takes a step to the side, allowing everyone’s attention to shift.

“So, this is my–”

A dark aura falls upon the presents. A glittery, sparky Drew Tanaka steps in Will’s visual, wearing only a large flannel shirt he recognizes as his own, open to reveal a white, coffee stained t-shirt. Oh, yes, Kayla’s style has rubbed off on her.

“And who might that be?” She asks, managing to look intimidating. She throws her hair behind her shoulder, looking at Niccolò like he’s some kind of disease.

“As I was saying,” Will responds, grabbing Niccolò’s wrist to drag him forward, steadying him when he stumbles. “This is Niccolò, Prince of many things, and you might call him His Royal Highness on the days he’s particularly generous. On the other days, I suggest you don’t call him at all, because he can be a real bitch.”

Nico rolls his eyes, offering his siblings his hand. “Sorry about him, I’m sure you know better than me to never listen to him. It’s very nice to meet you, and just Nico is fine.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Kayla says, blushing to the tip of her ears as they shake hands.

“Well, are you going to offer us food or what?” Will says, interrupting Nico and Drew’s sudden staring contest. Their hands drop back to their hips. He drops his luggage in Niccolò’s hands. “Come, you can drop it by my bed.”

“I didn’t clean it!” Austin shouts after him. Will responds with a groan, louder when he realizes just how unclean Austin has left it.

“Who’s Drew to you?” Niccolò whispers when they are alone in the room.

Will blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Niccolò quickly retreats. “Was just wondering. So, is the saxophone Austin’s?”

Said saxophone is at the corner of the room, on a pile of books, shiny even if it has been used for many years. Will remembers Niccolò’s question a few moments later.

“Oh, yeah. It’s a gift from our father.” He grimaces. “I always thought I’d buy him another one when I became a doctor. I don’t like the thought of it being our father’s gift.”

“His birthday is on a week though, right?”

“Yeah. Next Wednesday, I’m going back to Texas on Thursday.”

“Oh, someone’s getting wasted then.”

Will throws him a sock, but Niccolò dodges it with a grin.

“I used to dodge bullets, you loser,” he says. “Before even having breakfast.”

Will narrows his eyes. That’s kind of a game of Nico’s, saying crazy shit about the army, and most of the time Will can’t guess whether he’s joking or serious. Even now. It sounds incredible, but he’s got that serious expression on his face.

“That’s true,” Will says.

Niccolò laughs, a sound Will misses even before it’s over. “Yeah, every day they woke up the Prince of their nation at dawn, so that they could shoot him.”

Will bites his tongue. “I knew that wasn’t true.”

“You still got it wrong. How much are we at? Fifteen for you, seventy-three for me?”

Will pulls him down on his bed, falling on Austin’s papers and schoolbooks. He hopes they aren’t too important.

“Get the stick out of your ass,” Will says, whacking him with the first textbook he finds. Niccolò has the audacity of laughing.

Someone clears their throat, and Will turns, only realizing he’s straddling Niccolò’s lap when he notices how red Kayla’s cheeks are.

“We have some coffee.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking everywhere but at Will. “I also took out the good cookies.”

“Oh, dear, this is a great occasion then,” Will says, getting off Niccolò. He stumbles, but doesn’t fall. “By the way, do we still have that stain of mold under the window?”

Kayla nods. “It actually has a child now.”

Will pouts. “It’s a manifestation. It’s because it missed me.”

“Are you comparing yourself to a stain of mold?” Niccolò asks, elongating his step to avoid a shoe abandoned in the middle of the floor. “That’s very unflattering but also very realistic of you.”

Kayla bursts out laughing, as Will grabs another pillows from the sofa and keeps on hitting Niccolò. Once again, he only laughs harder, and soon enough Will is, too.

“How’s being a prince like?” Drew asks Nico, as soon as they sit on the sofa.

“I thought you’d know with the way you put yourself on a throne,” Austin responds. She sends him a saccharine smile.

From what Will’s heard, she and Kayla haven’t changed all that much since they’ve gotten together. They just look at each other like the other has hung up the moon in the sky herself, and sometimes they hold hands.

“It’s not very exciting,” Niccolò says with a shrug. “I guess it’s like being famous, I just wear a crown sometimes.”

“And the cool, black military dress,” Will adds. He doesn’t add that Niccolò is extremely hot in that, and the thought alone makes him blush.

“It’s called a uniform, Fitzwilliam,” Niccolò says, tilting his head to the side. “You ever heard the word?”

Will blows him a kiss. Niccolò diverts his eyes, and Will counts it as a win.

“I guess you have lots of beautiful women around,” Drew adds, bringing the cup to her mouth. She grimaces at the taste. “Who wouldn’t want to be with a prince, after all?”

“Are you trying to seduce him?” Austin blurts out with a frown.

Drew pinches him in the leg, hard. “I’m making conversation, dear.”

“Don’t make conversation about his bedroom’s activity,” Austin hisses.

“Don’t be so fucking rude,” she responds.

“Alright!” Kayla exclaims, a blush deep on her cheeks, her grip on the cup a little desperate. “Why don’t you tell us more about your interests? Your hobbies?”

“By the way, talking about interests,” Drew jumps in again, this time looking at Will like a predator seeing its prey. “Remember Sherman?”

“No!” He exclaims. “Sherman who? Sherman… I don’t know any Sherman. Mh, no. You got the wrong Will, sweetheart.” He takes a long sip of coffee, only to sputter half of it back in the cup. “Who the hell didn’t put sugar in my coffee?”

“Me, because I’m not your fucking barista, you fucking rude animal,” Drew responds.

Austin sighs, leaning back in the armchair. He rubs his temples. “What even is this conversation.”

“I wouldn’t have given your number to Sherman if I’d known you’d be so rude about everything,” Drew continues, holding the cup as if it were a glass of wine.

Will spits his sip of coffee right on the table. He coughs, and Austin hits his back. Niccolò sends him a confused glance, but the rest of his face is completely blank. Will is pretty used by now to picking up his moods, by the sound of his voice and the crease of his brow. Niccolò still hides pretty much most of his emotions, but there’s an instant when he can’t, and the crease of his eyebrows betrays him. Now he’s skipped it, somehow. A pang of pain shoots through Will’s heart.

She turns to Niccolò. “He’s a friend of Will’s family’s son. Didn’t your grandma really like him, Will?”

“She didn’t,” Austin answers for him.

“Oh, I think you’re wrong,” Drew says, waving her hand in dismissal.

Kayla puts her hand on Drew’s on the cup holder. “Let’s have a word alone, mh?”

When they return from Kayla’s bedroom, Drew doesn’t add a thing about Sherman. She and Niccolò politely ignore each other, until he has to leave for the gala, or whatever he is attending.

Niccolò leaves around seven pm. Will hugs him on the doorstep, and if his breath hitches a little, no one has the heart to point it out. Afterwards, Will stays on the cramped sofa with his siblings and Drew, somehow everyone is on someone else’s lap. They watch Golden Girls, and Drew makes an Instagram Story. She’s careful not to take Will’s face in, he’s been trying not to appear too much on her social media. When he does, people remember that he’s Prince Niccolò’s soulmate, and somehow it ends up on gossip sites. He isn’t ready to be under the spotlights again.

Eventually, Austin and Kayla drift off to sleep, and Drew speaks softly to him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have butted in.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He plays with Austin’s hair as he talks, avoiding Drew’s eyes, and everything he might see in them. “I never really told you what happened on our last day together, did I?”

“You haven’t told anyone, no.”

Will finally looks up, and Drew is already looking at him. “I don’t even know how to say it. We talked about… well, everything. He told me he couldn’t be with me, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us, we’d have to sneak around, hiding behind everyone’s back. He’d have to get married to a nice girl someday, anyway.”

“But he loved you.”

Tears burn in the back of Will’s eyes. “He said he knew he was already falling for me.”

“God. That’s awful.”

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, deep enough for his lungs to hurt. “We spent the night together.”

“You… like, sexually?”

He doesn’t respond. “And it was nice, the next day. Before we left the house. I thought that if I knew what it would be like to be with him, then eventually I’d be fine. I’d be satisfied with the night and half-day we’d had together.”

“But you aren’t.”

“I just want to go back there, to that day. Like, I wake up in the morning and I want to see him, what he’d be like with my grandma, if he’d be nice with her friends when they come over. You know the neighbor’s daughter? She has a son, now. He’s, like, four. He was learning to use his bike, and he fell, and then I saw his father going there, picking him up and everything. And I realized that I only once saw Niccolò with a kid, and it was in the middle of a packed road, but he was so nice with her, I mean he was talking in Italian, but she kept on giggling and everything.”

“You want kids with him?”

“I just realized that it has never been a possibility for us, and it hurt so fucking much I couldn’t breathe. I just–it’s so unfair. I wish he weren’t a prince and so famous, but then I realize that he is, and that’ a part of him.”

Drew looks down at her lap, playing with the hem of her shirt. “You always despised the thought of soulmates.”

“I know.”

“I was just saying. I was, I mean. I didn’t think you’d ever change your mind.”

“It was before getting to know him. He makes me all–he makes me feel like the world isn’t such a shitty place. And it shouldn’t even be possible, because he’s pessimistic and he pretty much says the world sucks. But he also wants to make it a better place.”

“Now I feel awful for how I treated him.”

Will laughs. “Yeah, the Sherman-thing was pretty shitty. By the way, I really don’t want his number.”

“I guessed.” She grimaces. “I haven’t actually given him yours.”

Will chuckles again.

15th of July

Will rubs his eyes tiredly, still in his pajama, and almost jumps out of his skin when something attacks him.

“Happy birthday, Willie!” Jonathan screams.

Will smiles, taking Jonathan off the ground and throwing him in the air. A smile blooms on his face, so strong he almost forgets the pain in the back of his heart. Kayla, Austin, Valentina and Grace are standing next to his grandmother, with matching smiles on their faces. Will opens his arms, adjusting Jonathan on his hip, and they all come crushing against him.

“Drew, Mitchell and Piper are coming in the afternoon,” Valentina says. She’s fifteen, and she’s actually thinking of becoming a pediatrician. She lives in San Francisco with her mother, and spends a couple of weeks each summer with their family in Argentina. “Lacy couldn’t make it.”

“Thanks for being here,” Will says. “Y’all are looking good.”

Kayla giggles. “I almost forgot how Texan you get when you’re here.”

Will groans. “Gimme a break.”

Jonathan laughs, throwing his fists in the air. “Gimme!”

Will kisses the top of his head. He hears a shutter going off, and when he glances up he sees his grandmother with a camera in his hands. She has a huge grin on her face, and the flowery dress she wears only on special occasions.

“We’re opening the gifts when everyone comes here!” She says. “And now y’all go off to prepare the table, Willie and I got a talk to get through.”

Austin groans, which earns him a smack on the head by grandmother. She puts her hands on her hips, until only she and Will remain in the room. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and hooks her arm in his.

“Come see the geese. They’ve returned in the pool this morning,” she says.

Will grimaces. “Disgusting.”

“Shut up, boy.”

Outside the temperature is far too hot, the sun shines far too bright, but they walk to the garden in the back. There are no geese in the pool. Will turns to his grandmother, but she shushes him, and sits on the wooden bench, under the shadow of the apple tree. He sits beside her.

“Has something happened?” he asks.

His grandmother eyes the too long curls on his forehead. Will can feel them sticking to his damp skin. He brushes them away, but a second later they fall back.

“Your father sent you a gift,” she says. She takes a letter from her pocket, and passes it to him. “Do you want to read it alone?”

“Later. I’ll read it later.”

“Alright.”

Every year Will’s family flies to Austin for his birthday, and they stay at his grandmother’s house for the summer. They spend the morning together, then in the afternoon Drew’s family reaches them. It’s the first year since his brothers’ death that Piper comes.

Will is in the pool with her when he feels it, a tugging from his shoulder, his soul mark pulsing. He lets his empty glass fall from his grip, his fingers going limp.

Niccolò is standing next to his grandmother, shaking Jonathan’s hand with a shy smile as Valentina watches the scene unfold with her jaw gone slack.

“Fancy seeing you here, you gremlin!” Piper exclaims, shaking Will from his trance.

His grandmother has a hand on Niccolò’s shoulder, and he’s still holding Jonathan’s, but Will can see the way he turns softer around every edge when his eyes meet Will’s, comfort falling onto him.

Will doesn’t even realize he’s climbed out of the pool, until he is in Niccolò’s arms, and his clothes are getting wet.

“Ooops,” Will says when they let go, and Niccolò’s clothes stick to his body.

“Go, Will!” Drew shouts from where she’s sunbathing in the sun. “You still got your sneaky techniques to get the boys naked!”

Niccolò blushes a deep red, but Will just flips Drew off. His grandmother smacks him on the head, but it’s worth it.

“Is this how we welcome guests, children?” she asks.

Jonathan, the traitor, shakes his head, tugging her dress. “I shook his hand! You saw?”

Grandmother pats him on the head, a smile stretches on her wrinkled face. “Finally someone educated in this household.” She turns back to Niccolò. “Take everything you need. If you can’t find something, just ask Will. He’s missed you, you know?” She caresses Niccolò’s cheek, which has him blushing a deep shade of red, and leaves to go back inside.

“I really did miss you,” Will whispers softly. He intertwines his fingers to Niccolò’s, and tugs him towards the others. “You ever met Piper’s siblings?”

Niccolò shakes his head, but Will is blinded by the light in his eyes, and almost misses it.

They spend the night together, but this time they only stargaze, laying on the old deckchairs near the pool. Niccolò teaches him about constellations, and Will has lived in LA, his best friend is Drew, so he already knows. He doesn’t say, and just listens. If the smile on Niccolò’s face is anything to go by, he already knows.

19th of August

Nico spends the weekend in Livigno with Hazel. Every corner of the house is Will, and his smile, and his laughs.

“Do you miss him?” She asks, as they watch the TV in the living room.

Nico doesn’t find it in himself to answer. He looks back down, at the speech he is holding in three days in front of an audience filled with important people he doesn’t even know the names of. Taylor Swift’s Christmas Tree Farm blasts from TV, and Hazel along under her breath. Nico should have built a blanket fort with Will.

23rd of September

In New York, Will tells Nico that he wants to teach in kindergarten, and every time he talks about it his eyes shine, in a way they never did when he talked about medicine.

They sit on a bench in New York, and Nico asks Will a question he’s had on the tip of his tongue for some months now.

“Will you get your mark covered up?”

Will blinks, as though the question is a sudden thunder, and maybe it is. Nico continues eating his hotdog. It’s too spicy for him, his tongue burns, and so do his eyes. His heart is thundering in his chest, and he isn’t sure why. (That’s a lie. He knows.)

“I never thought about it. Not since I’ve known you.”

Nico’s shoulders relax. He sends Will a side smile, but there’s still a lump in his throat.

6th of November

Nico talks to his therapist. She asks him how he feels about Will, why they haven’t been talking much lately. It’s easy to trust her with the truth after all these years. When he was younger, he’s learnt that telling her half-assed truths doesn’t help him. He doesn’t go every single week to her studio anymore, but sometimes he needs help processing how he feels.

“Guilty,” he says, after thinking about it for a while. “He’s stuck with me, and he hasn’t done anything to deserve it. He deserves a soulmate that can be with him.”

His therapist, Juniper, tilts her head to the side. “If you had the possibility, would you like to be with him romantically?”

She’s one of the first people he’s told about his sexuality. Actually, she had been with him for quite some time when Cupid ‘exposed’ him for the first time. It was a moment of deep bonding for them, she told him it explained many things about his behavior. It also sucked and gave him trauma on too many levels to count, but Nico is trying to see the positive side.

“I don’t have the possibility. Day-dreaming about it won’t help me.” Nico’s tone is cold, far too cold in the regards of such a question. Heat comes to his cheeks. He scratches his neck, even that feels warm. “Sorry, I–I think I would like it.”

“Maybe it would help you feel less guilty if you talked about it with him. I shouldn’t say my personal opinion, but he sounds like a very sweet guy. Someone you can have a real dialogue with.”

9th of November

Will crushes Niccolò in a hug as soon as he sees him. Then, before he can reciprocate, he throws him back and flicks him on the forehead.

“Is this the way to behave?” He turns on his heels, hands on his hips, and walks right back in the apartment. He talks again only after the door is shut behind Niccolò. “You fucking ghosted me!” He sits on the sofa, it creaks dangerously, but it holds on. “You can just tell me when I’m too much, or, I don’t know, if I…when I annoy you.”

Niccolò’s hand is on Will’s shoulder, and then he’s the one being crushed in a hug. He holds onto Niccolò’s shirt, inhaling his perfume. He ignores the tears in his eyes. Will finds himself caged on the couch by Niccolò’s knees on either side of him. Eventually, they find themselves with their foreheads against one another’s. They haven’t been so close since Christmas.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep on doing this,” Niccolò says, his words daggers in Will’s heart.

“I know. I know, it hurts me too.” Will sniffled. Niccolò’s hair are dark and soft, and he presses a kiss on his head. Niccolò is tall, but now he feels so small in his arms. “It hurt more when I didn’t have you anymore.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

23rd of December

The door opens, and Will is there, in the middle of his grandmother’s house, with his siblings scattered around him. Lidia, Will’s grandmother, hugs Nico, thanking him for coming, and saying words he can’t pay attention to, because his gaze is on Will, who’s looking back at him, and his heart skips a million beats.

Nico has brought Jason, Leo and Piper with him. Drew is already here, with Kayla’s head on her lap, and Jonathan talking her ear off about the gift he’s asked. Jason deposits their gifts under the tree (Nico has asked Austin what to bring to each of them, he didn’t want to be unprepared).

24th of December

Will finds Niccolò in the garden. The moon has been high in the sky for the past few hours, but the air is still warm. Will sits with him in the grass, linking their fingers.

“Can you believe it’s already a year?”

Niccolò smiles. “Next year we could fly to Livigno, if you wanted to. Bring everyone there. Do your siblings have passports?”

A smile grows on Will’s face, and he doesn’t even try to stop it. “Would you really do that?”

“If they are okay with having me for Christmas again.” He clears his throat, as he always does before starting a rant coming from his self-deprecation. “I’d leave you the house if you wanted to, without me. It’s not a problem, of course, we could–”

Will puts a hand on his mouth, stopping him. “But next year you should bring Hazel, too.”

Nico takes the hand off, holding on to his wrist even afterwards, although he’s also trying to maintain a frown on his face. “Would you like that?”

“We’ve been calling each other since Halloween.”

“Halloween?”

“Yeah. We saw each other, she was in New York with Annabeth and the others.” Will shakes Niccolò’s fingers off his wrist, to intertwine their fingers. “Didn’t she tell you?”

“Yeah, yeah, she did.” There’s a deep blush on Niccolò’s face, and he shouldn’t like it so much. “You also sent me a selfie with her.”

“She gets along a lot with Austin. A bit less with Drew, for some reason.”

“Some reason?”

Will lets his head fall on Niccolò’s shoulder, something he wouldn’t do normally, but it’s almost Christmas. He can have this on Christmas. “Drew can be a bit hard around the edges. As sharp as her eyeliner.”

“She hates me. Hated, whatever. Now she just looks at me strangely. Suspiciously.”

“We used to date. For a couple of years, but then–it was back when we lived in LA with my parents, we were neighbors. I really did think we’d last forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. After my brothers died, I moved here with my grandparents. I was shitty to Drew, I dealt really badly with grief. I talked with my parents only once since. You can ask me how my brothers died, if you want to.”

Niccolò hesitates, just a second, then his hand squeezes Will’s, and he talks. “How did they die?”

“Overdose, the both of them. Lee first. He was at a party with my father, but dad left him alone, and he overdid it. Michael a couple of months later. He and Lee were really close, and he–he did die of overdose, but he did it on purpose.”

“And your mom?”

“I’m her only child. We just don’t have a relationship. I don’t even hate her. I don’t know her enough for that.”

Will tries to smile. Nico wraps his arms around him, and Will hides his head in the crook of his neck.

27th of June

They talk over the phone every day, and Will calls Nico every night before going to sleep.

“I miss you,” Will says, and his voice is husky, a bit raspy, but his tone is soft.

I miss you, too. These days, I miss you so much I forget I do, and think the longing in my chest has always been there. “I know. Drew told me you’ve been turning that friend of yours down.”

Nico can imagine the frown on Will’s face. “Drew should mind her own business.”

“Why do you turn him down?”

“I’m not interested in him.”

Hearing these words shouldn’t make Nico so happy. They’re trying to move on, the both of them. If Nico doesn’t, nothing changes. He will still marry some girl, maybe be friends with her, have a child together, and die as king. If Will doesn’t, he will be lonely for the rest of his life.

“It might help, though. I–I assume the reason you’re turning him down. Don’t wait for me, Will.”

Will sniffles, and Nico closes his eyes. He closes them so hard his head starts hurting. He almost doesn’t breathe, so Will can’t hear how broken it is. He is.

“You shouldn’t be stuck with me,” Nico says. His words are spoken quietly, so much it’s a wonder how Will hears him. “I’m sorry.”

Will’s sniffles become louder. “I’m not stuck with you. How can you say that, when you make me feel free?”

Nico shuts his eyes tighter. He opens them again. There’s a photo of him with Bianca on the wall in front of them, one of the few he keeps around. He and Bianca are sitting at their table in their house in Venice, with pencils scattered around, as they draw with passion. Nico can’t remember what he was drawing, in the photo he is covering his paper with his whole body, as he leans forward to watch Bianca’s drawing.

29th of June

Niccolò is at the front door of Will’s apartment.

“I wanted to check in on you,” is all he offers as an explanation.

17th of December

“Oh, we broke up,” is all Will offers as an explanation, when he and his family land in Milan, a car waiting for them to bring them to Livigno, and his boyfriend of a couple of months isn’t with them.

Niccolò nods with a tight smile, but worry is clear in his eyes. Does he feel like Will is some kind of burden? Is that what it is about? Will turns away, taking his grandmother’s luggage.

Reyna and Hazel are waiting for them at the house. Will has never met Reyna before, she has never been able to come with Niccolò when he visits. She warms up to him quicker than he thought she would, saying Niccolò has talked plenty about him, and it makes Will’s heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. His soul-mark pulses every second they are in the same room, yet not touching or at least close. Will uses it as an excuse to hang off of Niccolò’s arm for the rest of the night.

“And there, Lidia,” Niccolò says as he and Will show him the house. “Is where Will punched my cousin Percy in the face, thinking he was a burglar.”

Will blushes. His grandmother’s laugh echoes through the house, and Niccolò looks smug and proud. For a moment or two, Will can’t breathe. He belongs here, and Niccolò belongs with him, too. His eyes sting, and he looks away.

30th of June

Will visits Nico in Rome, in Italy. They travel by bike, and they are on a bridge over the Tevere, whose name Will can’t pronounce, but it’s close to San Pietro. It’s filled with people, and Will is looking at a little girl braiding her friend’s hair, one has red hair, the other is a brunette. When he looks forward again, Nico is some meters away, with the sun kissing his face so well, and his hair getting longer, almost enough to be kept in a ponytail. He smiles, and laughs at something a man says in Italian. He laughs, and over every other noise, it reaches Will.

He curses loudly, falling to the ground, but falling even harder for Niccolò, and now he knows.

He’s in love. Also, he has scraped his knees and a strange bruise with the shape of an almond appears on his cheek the next day.

He’s in love, and he’s been for a very long time, maybe even years.

25th of December

“I keep thinking of our first Christmas together,” Niccolò says.

Hazel’s laugh reaches them from the living room. They are even more this year. Hazel, Reyna, Frank, Piper and her siblings, Jason, Leo, Percy and his family, Annabeth and Will’s family. Earlier, they even had a video-call with Apollo. He’s trying. They’re all trying.

Will still hasn’t decided what to reply, when Niccolò shakes his head and takes a step back.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says. “I can’t stand it.”

Will’s eyes widen. His hands shake, the glass of water he had been filling falls in the sink, cracking. The house is filled with loud people, there are a million other sounds, but it’s as loud as a bomb in the kitchen. “What–what do you mean?”

He heard his father saying that to his mother, a long time ago, and the next day he moved out. They separated, asked for the divorce, and now they don’t talk anymore. Will can’t let that happen. He can’t.

He surges forward, and kisses Niccolò square on the mouth. They haven’t done anything like that in a very long time, since that first Christmas together three years ago, when they were barely more than children. Even now, they aren’t all that grown.

Nico relaxes against him. He kisses back. Through the years, Will has always thought that yes, maybe Nico could be interested in him that way, but that they would never be able to do something like this again. That if Will kissed him, Nico would tell him they couldn’t, and step back.

Nico doesn’t step back. They have to break apart somehow, sometime later, but they don’t look away. Nico’s eyes are so, so dark. Will is so, so in love.

“That I can’t do anymore,” he says. His voice is warm, all kinds of soft, and he leaves a trail of pecks on Will’s cheeks, probably one for every freckle. “This I want to do forever.”

27th of December

It’s all over the news when Nico travels back with Will to America. It’s all over the news, that he’s decided to step away from the crown, and Hazel is now Crown Princess. They have talked about it, and it was her who convinced Nico that she was okay with it, it was something she wanted to do. She also said that she noticed Nico wasn’t happy, hadn’t been for a long time, and that his eyes always wondered to faraway places, even when they were together.

“If being with him makes you happy, and being here and having the crown on your head doesn’t, then I want you to do it.”

During the flight, Nico’s hand stays on Will’s, his thumb stroking with such tender movements over Will’s knuckles, it hurts a bit. They go back to Will’s apartment. Nico is going to look for one of his own, not too far, even though he still has his grandfather’s money if not the Crown’s, so he could buy a whole condo in Manhattan. He wants to be close to Will, close enough to never have to miss him again.

When they are in their pajamas, Austin and Kayla in their rooms, Nico presses a kiss to Will’s forehead, their sides flush together, their feet on the coffee table. There’s a show on the TV, and Nico should thank the director. If not for the plot, since he hasn’t followed it half-enough to know what it talks about, for the way the lights from the TV kisses Will’s face.

“I missed you, too,” Nico says softly. “All those years. I never said it, but I did, too.”

Will lets his head fall on Nico’s shoulder, and takes Nico’s hand to hold it on his lap. He looks up at Nico, through a thick layer of eyelashes, and he smiles. A little smile, because it may take a while for them to be completely okay, but they have all the time in the world now.

“I know,” is all he says.

#solangelo #solangelo fic #solangelo au #soulmates au #nico di angelo #will solace #pls forgive me for the angst #though we have a happy ending #so it's all good

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navigatrixnarrations · 3 years

Text

Sometimes Always, Part 2: Thick As Thieves

The second chapter of a canon divergent kind-of fix-it set after Season 3. In which the past does not stay buried.

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of hanging and violent injuries

Word Count: 2187

Catch up here: Part 1

Vane wakes at dawn to find Margaret already up and about, though he’s not sure she’s slept at all. Her face looks drawn, and in the grey light the dark circles beneath her eyes nearly look as though she’s sporting a pair of shiners. She’s built up the fire and is sitting in front of it, her long fingers wrapped around a mug of tea. She glances over and pours him a mug, which he gulps down. It’s brewed strong and sweet.

He takes the chair across from her and rests his elbow on the table, leaning in to peer at her. “What the fuck are you doing here, Magpie?”

“Charles, are you turning into a philosopher?”

There's a wall there, where there never was before. Not that he can blame her. “You said you fucking hate it here. You could go anywhere. Why do you stay?”

She relents with a heavy sigh. “I’m keeping a promise to my father.” Her voice is curt. He waits for her to elaborate. She doesn’t.

“You could have rejoined him, or gone back to Nassau.”

She stares at him as though she can’t believe how stupid he is, but there’s a wound behind her eyes. “No. I couldn’t.” She stands and paces to the window, which she stares out blankly.

“But why here?”

“Because this is where the ship he put you on was headed.”

Vane remembers very little of what happened after he stepped off the cart. The jolt at the end of the rope. Gunshots and commotion. Falling and being caught. The wound in his leg had started to fester while he was gaoled, and he spent days drifting in and out of consciousness, feverish, his throat too sore from the noose to talk. At the edges of his vision, a dark figure whose face he couldn’t make out — he assumes he hallucinated that. At some point he learned he was on a schooner bound for New York City, and that it was part of Blackbeard’s fleet, one he sometimes used to move cargo without attracting attention.

“Why the fuck didn’t you let me know you were here?”

“Didn’t know what to say to you.” She shrugs. “I wasn’t sure whether the first thing I’d do would be hug you or knee you in the balls.”

“Yet you did neither.”

She narrows her eyes in a way he’s learned means don’t press your luck. “Get your shit from the rooming house. You can stay here while we figure out what the fuck to do next.” She said we.

He returns from the rooming house, his few worldly possessions in an old sea bag slung over his shoulder, to find her gone. The shot of nerves is a gut-punch until he sees the note on the table: “Back in a bit -- M”

And indeed, a short time later, he hears three quick raps on the window pane, an old signal of theirs, and a gust of chill air blows through the garret as it opens. Her voice: “I’m coming in.” She swings herself inside, landing with a loose-limbed ease that’s familiar from so many raids together. Her eyes are the only visible part of her. Everything else is swathed in dark clothing, from the knit cap and scarf hiding her hair and face to the well-worn canvas jacket and trousers hiding her figure.

He raises his eyebrows. “Has the door offended you in some way?” The woman has always known how to make an entrance.

She finishes unwrapping the scarf and pulls off her cap, releasing a weather system of dark hair. Margaret is in the clothes of a working pirate, hair wild and a spark of that old feral joy in her eyes, and the world begins to make sense again. He’s sure she’s got half a dozen knives concealed about her person, even if she’s carrying neither pistols nor cutlass.

She gives him a sly grin. “The Puritan couple downstairs is entirely too interested in saving my unworthy soul. I prefer to avoid them.”

“Mmhmm. You can’t have been rooftopping because you were someplace you shouldn’t have been and you didn’t want to be followed.”

She feigns indignation. “Who, me? An honest widow woman, pure in word, thought, and deed?”

He finds himself grinning back at her. “I appreciate the warning before you came through the window.”

“Well, I recall what happens when you’re startled.” He’d been dozing lightly and he grabbed her arm and threw her, pinning her to the deck with a knife to her throat before he realized who she was. The surprise on her face, the clean strips of linen scattered everywhere. He felt like an utter shit; he’d taken a nasty cutlass slash and she’d only been coming to change his bandages. He couldn’t look her in the eye for days after that. Yet even at her most furious, she never threw it back at him…

”I recall what happens when you’re startled too,” he smirks and quirks his scarred eyebrow melodramatically. He shouldn’t have snuck up on her when she had a marlinspike in her hand.

She smiles ruefully. “I apologized for that.”

“And I said not to worry; it came from a formidable opponent.”

The smile fades from her face. “I’m not your opponent, Charles.” Her voice is quiet, serious, thick with some emotion he can’t quite name. “I never was.”

“No,” he replies, equally quiet, equally serious, “But you are formidable.” How different life would be, if only he’d found the words.

Blocks away, the church bell on Broadway peals out the time. He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved that he has to head to work. The evening passes uneventfully. On his return, she’s already gone to bed.

He is pushing the earth from his body, but it keeps piling on top of him. He can’t dig fast enough, and the manacles rip at his wrists, and a crowd is jeering and he can’t breathe…

Vane hits the rough wooden planks of the floor with a ragged shout. And then she’s at his side, her arms lifting him into a sitting position. They’re a sailor’s arms, sinewy and strong from years of hauling on lines and climbing aloft. Her hand, callused but gentle, pushing his hair from his eyes. Then she simply sits on the floor beside him and threads her fingers through his.

Despite being the Captain’s daughter, Margaret received no special treatment; Charles’s hammock was strung next to hers in the fo'c'sle. He’d flipped himself right out of it, hitting the floor with enough of a thud to wake her. She crouched beside him, an arm around his shoulders, reminding him where he was. “Next time, reach out for my hand,” she ordered. And so the next time a nightmare jolted him awake, he did. Many a night she held his hand in the dark as the ship creaked and swayed around them. None of the crew ever said a word to him about his nightmares, and that, he learned from Sully, was because she used what small influence she had to see to it that they wouldn’t.

“Was it the giant?” She remembers what he said the only time he told her -- told anyone -- what he saw in his nightmares. Of course she does.

“I killed him. I went back to that,” his voice breaks slightly, “place, and I killed him.”

In the dark, her hair brushes his shoulder as she turns her head to look at him. “Does it help, knowing he can never hurt you again?”

“Sometimes. But the fear never fully goes away.” He’s never told anyone else any of this. He’s not sure why he’s telling her, except that she held his hand in the dark. “I fought him first, and he knocked me unconscious. Buried me alive. Had to dig myself out.” Her hand tightens around his, a reminder that he is still alive, still free. He coughs out a broken approximation of a laugh. “Should’ve made sure I was dead before he put me in the fucking ground.”

“And so now you sometimes dream of that.” She pauses and gives him a measuring look. “And the jolt at the end of a rope?”

He nods. He should have expected that she’d guess right.

She frowns for a moment and stares into the middle distance. Then her face softens. ”Giant slayer.”

He leans his shoulder against hers. When he told her about his nightmares, she couldn’t believe he didn’t know the story of Jack the Giant-Slayer. He remembers another night, windy like this one, huddled together on another floor as she told him that tale by the light of a lantern. He can pinpoint it now, the moment when he started believing it was possible to slay a giant himself. Started believing it until a different girl convinced him that he could never.

He shifts so that their linked hands cover his racing heart. “Magpie.”

Her chest rises and falls inside the men’s shirt she’s wearing and she starts to lean closer. Then she stands abruptly, releasing his hand. “I’ll boil the kettle.”

They sip their drinks in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, not exactly, but perhaps he shouldn’t have been so bold. He shouldn’t have expected her to return any of his feelings, not after such a betrayal and so many years apart. He realizes his fingers have gone to the rope scar on the side of his neck, and that she’s watching.

“Does it give you pain?” There’s genuine concern on her face. Perhaps she still cares for him after all. From the moment he woke up on the Revenge, he and Margaret had been thick as thieves, which after all, as Margaret had sensibly pointed out, they were.

“Not usually.” He takes a long pull on his coffee. “Can’t say it improved my voice any.”

She catches his attempt at lightening the mood. “Regardless, you’ve turned into quite the orator.” She stands to open the shutters; by now the sky is lightening in the pre-dawn hush.

“I wasn’t aware I gave any speeches these past two days.”

“I meant your speech at the gallows. It was a bit of a distraction while I was trying to calculate windage and bullet drop.”

Vane snaps his head up to stare at her in shock. “You shot the rope?” She always was a good shot. Deadeye Magpie, picking off foes from the fighting tops.

She deadpans “I’ll admit that I fully understand the urge to kill you, but that doesn’t mean I would allow anyone else the satisfaction.”

He snorts, but feels something long buried within him melt. She’d gone back to Nassau, rescued him once more, at no small risk to herself. Why?

The momentary playfulness leaves her face at the question on his. “Is it truly so hard for you to believe? I took a musket ball for you once.”

That musket ball nearly killed her. Those weeks while Margaret was ashore recovering, she bloomed the way that young women sometimes do. Nearly overnight, it seemed, she’d gone from being a gawky, coltish little thing with the face of a cranky hawk to an aquiline beauty, graceful and utterly poised. His breath caught when he spied her on the jetty, her dark hair blowing loose in the wind and her eyes shining as she watched the Revenge crew come ashore with their latest prize. That hair has threads of silver in it now, but her body is every bit as lithe as he remembers, her face every bit as lovely. And if her eyes are sadder now, harder than they were all those years ago, they’re no less captivating.

He rises and closes the distance between them in three strides and takes her hands in his. “I can’t make it right,” he says quietly to her guarded, upturned face. “This I know. You gave me my freedom and your friendship, many times over, and in return I hurt you.”

She doesn’t pull away. “Did you know that Eleanor tried it on with Sully first? He saw right through her. Told her to fuck off.”

It stings, but he can’t say he’s surprised. They both tried to warn him and he lashed out at them, refused to listen. Told Margaret that she was spoiled and selfish, that she just wanted him at her beck and call...oh, the absolute fucking irony of that. “I’d take it back if I could. What I said. What I did.” Vane is not a man used to apologizing, but for for her, he’s willing.

She slips one hand out of his and places it lightly on the cheekbone that Eleanor had battered with her fists. “Sully never bore you any ill will. None of us did. He didn’t understand why you threw away everyone and everything for her. I didn’t then either, but I think perhaps I do now.” She drops her hand back to her side and starts to turn away. “I’ve got to go see some people about a boat.” Reluctantly, he releases her other hand. Watches her put on her coat and boots. Watches her walk away, again. This time, at least, they don’t part in anger.

#sometimes always fic #charles vane x ofc #charles vane x oc #black sails fic

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screpdoodle · 3 years

Text

Duality - Chapter One (The Diabolical Ways of the Deciduous Demon Outside my Window)

"KAOS!! Get down here! We're going to be late!!"

Early morning sunlight dappled through the smudged windowpane, the chirping of birds mingling with the songs of the warm autumn wind working its way through the cracks. All things given, it seemed like a perfect morning. That assumption, though, was a misplaced one. At least to the young boy in the bed. He opened one eye, took one look at his window, and pulled the blankets over his head with a groan. The light stung his eyes, making him crave for the sweet embrace of dreams once more. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, it would all just fade away-

Tap tap tap

He flinched, then peered out from beneath his covers, pulling them down just to the bridge of his nose. Tap tap tap. It was back. The warm autumn breeze brought with it that no good tree branch, the warm toned leaves swaying with every tap against the glass. The boy squinted, then laid back down, pulling the blankets tighter around his head. If he just ignored it, the tree wouldn't notice he was there. It would go away, realizing it was a futile attempt to gain his attention. Whatever the tree wanted, he wasn't curious enough to risk finding out.

Tap tap tap. Tick tick tick.

He covered his ears, he wasn't listening. He didn't have time to deal with the tree and the ticking. There wasn't enough time in the world to deal with both. And yet, here they both were. That itching at the back of his mind, and that incessant tapping against the glass.

Tap tick tick. Tap tick tick.

Every moment of silence he could have been relishing was filled with those Ancients awful noises. How long has passed? A minute? A moment? He couldn't tell. All he could focus on was that stupid tree.

Tick tap tick tap tick tap.

In one movement, the boy sat up, throwing his blankets to the ground as forcefully as he could muster, facing the source of his problems.

"For the Ancients' sake, would you shut the f-"

"Kaos!!" The boy screamed as the door was flung open, nearly causing him to fall from his loft, grabbing the pillow in self defense. "Ancients, what is taking you so long?! Mother took Mey to school already, and at this rate you're going to miss the bus! Get dressed and get downstairs!!"

The door was slammed shut just as quickly as it opened, leaving the boy alone in his room. A small room, with walls lined with papers, a soot stained carpet and a desk set beneath the window. The sun bathed everything in a warm light, leaving the still burning candle on its surface obsolete for the time being. Still in shock, clutching his pillow like a weapon, Kaos slowly gathered himself, then climbed down the ladder, still clutching the pillow in his off hand in case he needed to use it. Which he most likely wouldn't. But it never hurt to be prepared. With a huff, he eyed the tree branch one last time, its pesky attempts to grab his attention finally coming to an end. It sat there, perfectly still - aside from the dancing leaves that yearned to be carried away with the fall winds. Oh, how he wished he could join them. For good measure, Kaos threw his pillow at the window, making sure the tree knew who was boss, before venturing over to his closet. His closet was a box. Of course, he had a real closet, set into the wall across from his loft, but he had never bothered to store his clothes in there. No, that was for storing other things. The box did quite nicely for the minimal amount of outfits he owned. Most of which were piled under his loft, waiting to be washed. Kaos half the time forgot they were there, along with some of Mey's clothes that he had borrowed; and some of his brother's that he had… Liberated from languishing beneath his bed with old socks and unfinished homework from grades passed. It was a mystery how Dyskord had ever managed to graduate, Kaos thought as he fished through the unfolded clothes stored within his closet box. Finally, he settled on the same things he always wore, which were sitting to the side of the box. He stumbled back as he pulled on his black sweats, wriggled into his tunic, slipped on his canvas shoes and grabbed a miscellaneous hairbrush he was pretty sure didn't actually belong to him. Kaos pulled the comb through his hair as he scrambled down the stairs, mumbling to himself as he chucked it to the side (Mother or Dyskord would pick it up eventually), grabbed his long coat off its hook, then careened into the kitchen as he put it on. The coat was far too big for him, swallowing his wiry frame whole like some beast made of shadows. Kaos hoped he would someday grow into it, but he had owned it for years now and no such luck had befallen him. Kaos climbed up onto the kitchen counter, eyeing his prize. The cookie tin, his ceremonial breakfast whenever Mother was out of the house. He pulled the lid off, then peered inside - only a few left. Just as Kaos reached his little hand down into the metal tin, Dyskord walked through the back door, tracking mud onto the scuffed tile flooring.

"What do you think you're doing," he spoke, kicking his boots off, never once taking his eyes off Kaos.

"Oh, please. Like you'd tell Mother," Kaos rolled his eyes, sliding the cookie jar back into place, his bounty in hand.

"Maybe I will."

"Then maybe I'll have to tell her who really passed your final exams for you, brother."

The two locked death glares, the only noise being that of the leaky faucet and the occasion chirp of the birds outside. Kaos cracked a smile, Dyskord following.

"Just grab me one too, short stack. Then we've gotta go."

Kaos shoved the cookie into his mouth, then grabbed the tin once more. His face reflected back at him on the polished sides. Big eyes the color of copper, a piggish upturned nose, his cheeks puffed out like an chipsquirrel's, gathering food for the winter. Cookie crumbs mingled with the imperfections that littered his skin, freckles, blemishes, and his birthmarks - mirrored patches of darker skin that clustered around his eyes. They had gotten lighter with age, but they still bugged him sometimes. One little snaggletooth stuck out from the corner of his mouth - an issue that could have been fixed with braces. If he hasn't broken them nearly the day after he got them. He may not have been the 'peak of perfection', but Kaos didn't mind. It made him unique. It made him… special. Though, that paired with his lackluster height usually ended up with him being at the receiving end of a bullying entourage.

"You got everything you need, baby brother?"

Kaos nodded, then hopped down from the counter. "Yes, mother. I have everything."

Dyskord rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Backpack?"

"At the front door."

"Lunch?"

"Won't be there long enough to need one."

"Catalyst?"

"Harvested it last night."

"Well, aren't you prepared," Dyskord chuckled. "Specimen?"

"That’s your job, remember?" Kaos smirked. "I have it all thought out, Dyskord. Don't worry."

"Well then, what's your plan for when Mother finds out?"

"Who said she'll find out? The only way she would is if someone rats me out." Kaos took a bite from his second cookie, handing the extra to Dyskord as he pushed past into the main hall. The high ceilings and towering walls making him seem even smaller; like an ant in a dollhouse.

"If I'm this deep in, why would I rat you out and risk getting in trouble myself?"

Kaos shrugged, walking backwards so that he could watch Dyskord's movements. "I don't know, brother, but the only variable that could possibly go wrong is you. So as long as you play along, everything should be absolutely peachy~" He grinned, then shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It tasted a little old, probably a month or two, but a stale cookie was better than no cookie. And at least Kaos knew that batch hadn't been poisoned.

Dyskord chuckled dryly, placing the cookie in the little leather satchel that hung at his hip. Kaos knew he'd probably eat it later. Dyskord could never resist a cookie. "Alright, alright, tiny genius. I'll trust you on this. But don't blame me when this plan fails too."

"It won't. Trust me."

Kaos grabbed his backpack off its hook, unzipping it just to triple check its contents. It never hurt to be certain.

"Communicator?"

"Yep."

"You got your diary~?"

Kaos whipped around, glaring. "It's not a diary! It's my journal of doom!!"

Dyskord patted Kaos on the head, ruffling his umber hair, a condescending smile on his lips. "Sure it is, baby brother."

Kaos grumbled under his breath, turning back to his backpack. He shrugged Dyskord off, trying to focus. Sure enough it was all there. Homework, lunchbox, communicator, his 'journal' - everything important was there and accounted for. As Kaos struggled to zip up his backpack once more, his gaze drifted to the portrait that hung above the door. His family, painted in exquisite detail, framed by an intricate wooden frame. Dyskord, with his old ashy blonde hair (Kaos had suggested he dye it neon green since it was a similar level of horrible against his skin tone, but Dyskord had insisted on vibrant silver.) Mey sat on Mother's lap, creasing the dress she had spent all of the previous day ironing to get it absolutely pristine, because she wouldn't sit still. Mother bore her usual scoul, contrasted by Mey's wide grin. If their expressions weren't so different, Mey might have been mistaken for a younger Mother. Father stood to the side of her, behind Dyskord, wearing a similar expression to his wife. Kaos had been surprised he hadn't been absent for that too. Looking down to where he was immortalized in paint, Kaos stood the front - where the painter had instructed him to stand; wearing a matching suit and tie like the rest of his siblings - though he at least still had his scarf. Black and grey striped knit that was as long as he was tall, coiled around his neck and draped over his shoulder. Kaos never went anywhere without his scarf, and even though he heard Hel from Father afterwards, it was worth it. As Kaos slung his backpack over his shoulder, he trailed his hand to his neck, reaching to feel the soft warmth of his scarf. Instead, his hand only met skin.

"C'mon Kaos, we gotta get going. We don't want you being late for-"

"My scarf!!" Kaos shouted. "Where's my scarf!?"

"Kaos, it's not even that cold out. You don't need your- oooor you can go get it. That's fine too, I guess." Dyskord watched as Kaos chucked his overstuffed backpack to the side, the contents spilling across the floorboards as he raced upstairs to his room. He swore, Kaos would be the death of him one of these days, but at least his life was interesting with him around. Dyskord just wished he wasn't so, well, chaotic. But he supposed that came with the name.

Kaos threw the door to his room open, his breath catching in his throat. He had been wearing it when he fell asleep, where could it have gotten off to!? Had he taken it off when he got dressed? No, it wasn't by his closet box. Was it in his loft? No, no. Maybe it was in the blanket pile he had created that morning. Or maybe it was- Kaos froze, slowly turning towards the window, the familiar tap tap tapping of the tree branch against the grimy glass greeting him.

"You," he glowered at the tree branch, carefully approaching the window. "What did you do with it!?"

The tree branch just continued its endless rapping against the window pane, mocking him, oblivious to the enemy it had made. Kaos stormed forward, climbing up onto his desk, kicking the papers that covered it onto the ground.

"Give it back now!!" He pressed his face against the glass. "Or so help me, you will meet your untimely demise!!"

He was given no response. Not that Kaos expected one. The trees were always conniving, this one especially. They seemed innocent, but beneath that bark was a dastardly deciduous demon, lulling him into a false sense of security, laying in wait. But Kaos knew. Kaos knew the truth about these creatures. And he wouldn't let them get the upper hand. Never once taking his eyes from the branch, Kaos slid open his window slowly, then peered out. There it was, as he had assumed, his scarf. In the patchy grass, between the gnarled roots of the beast. He shot the tree one last glare, muttering to himself, then stepped out onto the small ledge right outside his window. At least that was a perk of being small, he could fit into spaces others couldn't. Kaos stood up, balancing himself against the wall, holding onto one of the few bricks that jutted out from the flush surface. He had done this many a time, but every time he felt butterflies congregating within his stomach, a few fluttering into his throat. The wind in his hair, the view of the forest beyond- painted in autumnal colors of deep purples and dry oranges, the grounds below in desperate need of tending. All of it flooding his senses, paired with the impending damage he would receive at one wrong move. It was all… magnificent. But admiring the view wasn't what he was here to do, no. Kaos shook his head, reaching out to grab the closest branch, hoisting himself into it. The tree may have been a conniving, callous creature, but at least it served a purpose. That being a way for Kaos to get to the ground without completely shattering all of his fragile little bones.

"Kaos, come on!!" He heard Dyskord call from inside. "I have other stuff I need to do today, if you don't hurry up you'll have to take the school ship!!"

Kaos rolled his eyes, carefully stepping down onto the next branch. Dyskord was so impatient. He'd get down, grab his scarf, and they'd be on their way before his older brother could utter another idiotic sentence. Kaos slid onto another branch, this one bending slightly under his weight. He shot the tree a glare, as if daring it to try something, before stepping onto the next one. This one, unluckily, wasn't so forgiving. Before Kaos knew what was happening, the branch had buckled beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground - the branches he fell past slicing at his skin. At least the damp earth was there to soften his fall. Kaos propped himself up on his arms, spitting out a chunk of dirt as he silently cursed himself out for letting down his guard. At least he has his scarf. Kaos stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes best he could before assessing the damage. A few cuts here and there, his coat would definitely need some stitches, but at least nothing was broken. Kaos scooped his scarf up, wrapped it loosely around his neck, then froze. He heard the sound of an engine revving up, the realization hitting him all too late.

"WAIT!!" Kaos shouted, making a mad dash for the front door. "Dyskord, I'M COMING!!"

As Kaos rounded the corner, three things crossed his mind. His backpack laying on the path that lead up to the door, the idiocracy of his older brother; and the boat that belonged to the very same, the one that was usually docked at the edge of the island, now whirring off into the horizon without him.

"YOU IDIOT!!" Kaos shouted, skidding to a stop. He swore he heard his brother laughing over the sound of the motor, which was quickly fading away. "I'M TELLING MOTHER!!"

Of course he wouldn't. Telling Mother had become an empty threat within the family, no longer holding any weight after countless empty promises of "Mother'll hear about this" and "I'm telling mom" (the latter usually used by Mey) had been thrown around for years. But it was the only comeback he could dream up in the moment. He had other problems than coming up with a witty response that Dyskord couldn't even hear. He'd get him back later. After he was done with his current plan. Then he'd have all the time in the world to get back at Dyskord for being a complete ignoramus and putting a petty act of defiance over the welfare of the plan. That's what Kaos got for letting him in on it, he supposed, kicking a loose pathing tile out of frustration. His kick barely dislodged it, but it was at least something. Kaos grabbed his bag up off of the ground, finally noticing the note taped to it. Have fun taking the school ship. Of course. Kaos crumpled the note up as he swung the backpack over his shoulder, muttering to himself all the while. He looked around, starting to head in the direction the school ship usually docked. It was quite a ways away, so the sooner he left, the better chances he had of catching it. Why it didn't dock closer to his home was beyond him, and despite the complaints he had lodged with the school board and his mother, no changes had been made. Rolling fields of splotchy, yellowing grass were laid out before Kaos, broken up by the occasional stone pathway. Cracking with age and broken up like a checkerboard. The wound through the dirt haphazardly, interrupted by the occasional tree (which Kaos did his best to keep his distance from) or the start of a rickety bridge that connected the nearby islands. On his usual walks, Kaos would have stopped on the bridges, kneeling down and seeing how far down he could reach into the abyss below, waiting for something to float by that he could possibly add to his collections. Today, he had no time for that. Today, he actually had somewhere to be. Kaos counted his steps, glancing over his shoulder occasionally to watch as his home got smaller and smaller. From here, it looked normal. Simple even. But the imposing aura it cast still lingered in the air. The tall spires piercing the wispy clouds themselves, high stone walls and arched windows covered in moss and ivy. An overbearing, ancient labyrinth of a castle Kaos called home. Sometimes Kaos was convinced the place was still standing because of the grime it was caked in, which was the excuse he gave himself whenever it came to cleaning. If he did a good job, he might not have a home to go back to. It was an excuse Mother was never fond of. Kaos remembered one year he had been put on ivy duty during their yearly cleaning. He had encountered a particularly dastardly tangle of vines on the west side, one that had kept him trapped for the majority of the day. Mother had found him deep asleep in their verdant web after the sun had set, and Kaos hadn't been allowed near that part of the castle for a good while afterwards. Kaos sighed, a smile creeping its way onto his face at the memory, his home now simply a silhouette against the backdrop of the endless sky. He looked ahead, finally making out his target. The old barge that served as the school ship. Badly, at that. It was only a few islands away, where the grass was more lush and the terrain less harsh. Kaos picked up his speed, going from a light jog to a sprint, barely feeling his feet touch the ground. He was gonna make it. He could still see students boarding, he still had time, he could still make it.

"WAIT! WAIT!!" He shouted, causing a few heads to turn, but only for a brief moment.

Kaos forced himself through the crowd, nearly doubling over as he struggled to catch his breath, one hand on the strap of his backpack and the other on his scarf, just making sure it was still there. He ignored the dirty looks he was getting as the line began moving again, following the students ahead of him up the ramp. Even from his low vantage point he could tell the state of the ship. Noisy and overcrowded, with just a sprinkle of staff trying desperately to keep order. The chatter of students loud enough to make the patchwork steel hull of the ship vibrate. Kaos found his mind wandering as he and the rest of the students were herded onto the ship like animals, personal space a thing of the past. Everyone around him was at least double Kaos' height, leaving him lost in a forest of legs and torsos shuffling him forward. It would have been humiliating if he wasn't used to it. Ever since he was little, (well, littler) he had been the runt of the litter. Mother had wanted to hold him back because of it, even though she admitted he was smart enough to be a grade ahead. But here he was, stuck in a sea of people all taller than him, even at a grade lower than he should have been. At least that meant he excelled compared to everyone else - when he actually applied himself, that is. It was so hard to apply himself when everything was so easy. Kaos wanted a challenge, he needed one, he-

BANG!

Kaos stumbled back, bumping into the person behind him. He clutched his hands over his ears, the world vibrating around him. He faintly heard the person behind him mutter something as they pushed past, pulling him back to reality. What in the Ancients' names was that?! Kaos looked around, stepping off of the ramp and onto the deck of the ship, feeling the engine start to whir to life. He frowned. It must've just been a misfire of the engine. The ship was old and broken, misfires were bound to happen. But even then, Kaos couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Kaos peered over the edge of the ship, watching as the island below them slowly began drifting away. The smell of engine fuel and strong perfume filling the air. Kaos gripped the rusting side rail, then looked back to the deck of the ship. The talking had only grown louder, everyone trying to be heard over the roar of the engine and of course one another. It was an idiotic sight, people huddled into groups. Elves and Ents playing a quick game of Skystones, a group of Mabu discussing the best way to prepare beetroots for their cooking class - even the Gillmen were chatting it away, all in their own little worlds. Everyone seemed to have a group. Everyone, but Kaos. It wasn't a bother to him, though, not at all. Why would it have been? He had himself, and that was all Kaos needed. Kaos began making his way through the crowds of kids, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on the floor. He slid his backpack off once he got to his usual corner, plopping himself down. He looked up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by, the chatter around him becoming nothing but white noise. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift off, running the plan through his head once more. It would be perfect. He just needed to make it through the day.

***

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