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thestayathomedragon · 7 months

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Finally, the next installment of the DominantPlagaInfected!Luis AU.

on the bright side, got the wrong insides

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Fade In.

Scene - Interior: Salazar’s Castle – The Ancient Chantry (or what’s left of it) – Night.

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Leon and Luis had finally slain the grotesque lord of the castle, Ramón Salazar.

Salazar’s heavily mutated and rapidly decomposing form lay there before them. What was left of his hideous mug dripped comically with the residue of raw egg. Embedded in the dead bastard’s rat’s nest of a bouffant, gold tinted eggshell sparkled like glitter under the firelight.

“Oye, Sancho.”

“Yeah?”

“You know… I had no idea that this would be over so easy.”

Leon paused mid reload and slowly turned to face the grinning man. When he saw that stupid smug smile on Luis’s face, Leon couldn’t help but return it before quickly thinking better of it and biting down on his bottom lip instead in an attempt to snuff it out, but his shining eyes still gave him away.

Luis’s beaming smile only got larger. His glowing yellow eyes, squinted to accommodate his stupid grin, only seemed to grow brighter when he realized it.

And then, Luis started giggling. His giggling soon became full-on laughter.

Leon snorted and was barely able to hold back a guffaw of his own. Instead, the US Special Agent, paused long enough to get Luis’s attention again and said with a completely straight face, eyes sparkling with equal mischief, “Well, you can thank my Egg-cellent aim for that.”

For a moment Luis actually looked disgusted with him but that all shattered when the man doubled over howling with laughter. “Dios mío. Eso es muy malo. Ten piedad de mí, Sancho. Soy un hombre herido.”

Apparently, he was not wounded enough to refrain from trying to one up Leon with another dumb egg pun. Leon, being the stubborn, competitive man he is, was not interested in admitting defeat just yet. And so they go back and forth for a bit with the puns. Their laughter got more and more out of their control the worse they became, until they were both leaning on one another just to try and stay upright.

But all too soon they fell, separating. Leon rolled over on his back snorting as he held his middle, tears in his eyes. He was feeling delirious coming off his ebbing adrenaline high and… Luis.

There was no doubt that the air between them had been filled with an awkward energy since leaving the mines. Luis had been quiet for the first time since he’d met the man. And even with as much as Leon had complained about the man’s tendency to run off at the mouth, Leon was finding himself wishing for the Spaniard to say something… anything.

However, Luis persisted in his silence. He had seemed sullen and resigned to whatever fate awaited him as Leon continued to walk beside him and tried to ignore the growing ache in his chest that said that he had ruined everything. That the fledgling bond that had been developing between them had been irrevocably damaged by what he’d done.

Even if it was disappointing to accept, Leon still couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. He would rather have Luis alive and possibly angry with him for the foreseeable future than to have nothing at all.

Things changed when they faced off against Salazar, however.

The banter was suddenly back. Luis… his Luis was back. The annoying smartass Leon had grown so attached to had just needed a bit of adrenaline to bring him back round it seemed. And as crazy as the fight had turned out to be, Leon couldn’t have been more thrilled to have his partner back.

He had almost lost this.

Leon’s laughter started to turn more manic than joyful before finally tapering off to nothing. He sighed. They both had come so close to not making it out of this one yet again and Leon couldn’t help but wonder how things had gone had he had to take on Salazar on his own. He couldn’t help but believe that he would have made it through—he had to—but it would not have been nearly as fun.

Leon knew he wasn’t exactly a sensible man. He knew that he sometimes took a little too much joy in carrying out his work, which was why he mostly worked alone. It was nice to finally have someone on his side that seemed to understand him, however. And was just as, if not even more so, unhinged and ruthless when it came to fights to the death. Someone that understood that there were no rules when it came to situations like this.

Leon breathed and finally got a handle on himself though his grin remained. “Hey, maybe we could…” He started as he rolled back over off his back but the sound of Luis’s sharp intake of breath immediately followed by a pain filled groan caused Leon to sit up so quickly that his head swam.

“Luis?”

The other man responded with a pained whine. Leon didn’t understand. He made sure to check the other man over after they finally put Salazar down and he hadn’t seen any injury that would cause a sound like that.

Luis was on all fours, forearms flat on the ground underneath him. He was panting—that was the only word for it. His face ghostly pale, forehead glistening with sweat, and eyes closed tight.

“L-Leon…” Luis hissed through clenched teeth. Leon swore he saw a flash of what he belated realized was a fang in the man’s mouth.

“Shit.”

Luis cried out and fell over completely, curling himself into a tight ball of misery. Leon rushed over, on his hands and knees at Luis’s side in a heartbeat.

“What’s wrong?” Leon’s hands hovered above Luis’s writhing form, with no idea of where it was safe to touch. He had extensive training when it came to field medicine, but Leon had a sickening feeling that this wasn’t anything that he could apply that knowledge to. “Where does it hurt?”

Luis let out a strained sob. “En…en todos lados.”

“Is… is it the plaga?”

What a dumb fucking question. Of course, it was the mutant hell bug that Leon had recklessly stuck into Luis’s back. He definitely had no clue how to treat supernatural parasitic worm related injuries. However, before Leon could properly enter into a guilt spiral, Luis’s blood curdling scream snapped him right back out of it.

Luis looked up at him with glassy unfocused eyes, trembling, “E-En mi espalda... está en… llamas,” his words slurred.

Luis yelped and that was when Leon focused enough to hear it. There just underneath the sound of Luis’s harsh breathing…

Was that... his… bones creaking and popping?

“Fuck.” He breathed, able to see the plaga underneath Luis’s skin pressing up against the layers of cotton and leather that covered his back.

It was clear as day now. Luis was mutating. But why now?

Leon and Ashley had been infected for so much longer. And though his own symptoms had been awful, they hadn’t been anything like this. It had been a mere couple of hours since Leon had implanted the plaga inside of Luis to bring him back.

But wait? Could that be why?

Could it be because Luis had been dying—dead when he was infected again?

Leon was no scientist. And the only one between the two of them that was actually qualified was in no condition to offer any theories.

“Hey, hey…”

Luis’s harsh pants had quickly turned into hyperventilation.

“I know it hurts, man. But you gotta try for me, okay? Deep breaths. Try to slow down.”

Leon grimaced at the sight of the plaga’s restless movements and winced at the sound of the vertebrae of Luis’s back warping and crackling.

Luis wailed, high pitched and hysterical, hand scrabbling for a hold on to something—anything and that just happened to be Leon. Leon, who could feel his own eyes welling up in sympathy.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit! What have I done? What the fuck have I done? Oh god…

The guilt spiral was back even as he tried to fight against it. But there was no time for self-pity. Luis needed him to fix his mess.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” All he could do now was try to hold on and comfort him through it.

It was awful to feel so helpless. Still, after all the shit Leon had seen, it was surreal watching the plaga rearrange Luis’s body to suit its purposes.

Leon wished he knew how to communicate with it. Get it to understand that they were safe. That it didn’t need to do this.

Luis’s entire body tensed with an extreme surge of agony causing his fingers to curl and dig into Leon. And fuck did it hurt. Leon quickly realized that it was because of freshly grown claws that pierced his flesh causing blood to gush around them.

Now Leon was the one screaming. He pulled frantically at the other man’s hands, trying to loosen Luis’s iron grip. His chest ached and constricted, his own plaga’s attempt at making its distress known—writhing and squirming in time with Leon’s agony.

Through all of this, Luis was completely out of it and hadn’t reacted to Leon at all.

Leon panted and scrambled, trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t want to hurt Luis. He wouldn’t hurt Luis. This was happening because of him and the decision he had made without a thought about what Luis might want.

Even as he convinced himself once again that he didn’t regret his choice. That he couldn’t have just watched him die. He couldn’t have just watched as someone else he had come to care for left him again.

And if he did that then he also had to come to terms with that fact that it also meant that he had to watch Luis suffer for it.

“L-Luis… Luis please. You have to let go.” Leon hissed, his own hands clasped over Luis’s, still trying in vain to pull them away but they’re like stone digging into his flesh.

There was still no indication that Luis even heard him. Or that he even knew where he wasd.

His bright eyes stared up at Leon, unfocused, unseeing.

Just as Leon gave up on trying to pry Luis’s hands off of him, a desperate thought struck him.

Taking a calming breath, Leon stopped his struggle and gently placed a shaky hand onto the space between Luis’s shoulder blades. There’s a flash of ichor darkened veins winding thickly around Luis’s spine. The hole Krauser’s knife left had long since healed, sealing Luis’s plaga inside.

His own plaga stilled in his chest and Leon took another deep breath.

He felt so foolish, but Leon had to try. He closed his eyes and tried to reach out. On his own, through his own plaga, whichever way worked. He just needed the thing to hear him.

Surprisingly, it seemed to work. Leon could feel it when they connected and immediately he took the opportunity to try to convey to it that Luis was safe. That Leon was with him and that he would do whatever it took to make sure that nothing happened to him.

Hey. Hey, can you hear me? You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe and so is Luis. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.

Protect.

Leon gasped in shock.

Protect him.

While yes, the intention had been to communicate with the thing, what Leon hadn’t expected was for it to communicate back.

Yes. I will protect him. I’ll protect you both. Just please… Please… you have to stop. You’re hurting him.

And just like that, Luis’s grip loosened, and Leon could do nothing but sigh in relief. His own plaga finally still in his chest.

“Thank… fuck.” Leon panted, a sense of dizziness overcoming him before it all went black.

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When Leon woke, he found that he was very sore but also very much alive and no longer bleeding.

Someone had patched him up if the bandages wrapped around his middle and the empty can of first aid spray were any indication.

Leon sat up and groaned, “Jesus.” he muttered, rubbing at his face.

“No, Sancho. It’s just me.”

Leon’s eyes snapped wide open at the sound of that voice. “Luis?” He asked as he scanned the area for the source.

It didn’t take long before he found it. There, in the shadows of Salazar’s no longer so grand chapel, a pair of instantly recognizable eyes glowed softly from the ruins.

“Shit,” Leon exhaled, relieved. “Are you alright?”

He frowned when he didn’t get a response. Climbing to his feet with a wince, Leon tried to approach the other man. But for every step he took forward, Luis took one backward and away from him.

“What the hell, Luis? You scared me to death. You… uh… giving me the silent treatment all of a sudden or something?” Leon chuckled weakly. His nerves on full display with the way he shifted, the way his eyes continued to scan the room. “Seriously, man, are you alright?”

“I’m not sure.” Luis said finally and there was something different about his voice. It was almost uncanny. It wasn’t that it didn’t sound like him. It was just that there was something else there underneath the man’s normal raspy cadence. Something that lay just a layer underneath.

Leon’s heartrate picked up in response. He had seen what happened to Luis’s body right before he passed out. And he had no idea how long he had been out or what other horrors the other man had endured during that time.

Leon paused, breathed, and then asked, “Can I… come over there?”

“I would honestly prefer it if you did not.”

“Luis…” Leon stopped himself before he could screw this up. He needed to handle this delicately. Not his strong suit in the least but he had to try. “Okay. Okay, fine. I get it but,” Leon was tired. He was tired and frustrated but he could practically feel the sadness and fear radiating off Luis. Whether it was a fledgling bond between their plaga, or between the men themselves, Leon wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care. He just knew he didn’t like it.

“Whatever it is, Luis… I don’t care. We’ll deal with it.” Leon said softly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You know that right?”

Luis was tellingly silent. And because of that Leon could hear something thump rhythmically near the other man. Then the sound of scraped stone and clacking, like rattled rocks.

Guilt once again flooded Leon’s mind and the force of the icy waves threatened to drown him. He couldn’t really blame Luis for his hesitance. He hadn’t exactly been… gentle with him, had he?

That hurts you know.

Hanging with you? Not healthy.

From the moment they met, Leon had been nothing but cold and abrasive. He had proven more than once that he no qualms with hurting the other man to get what he wanted from him. It was only recently that Leon had realized his mistake and began to make an effort to try and correct it.

The fact that Luis was still willing to help him even after all that was proof enough for Leon of the other man’s sincerity. It was the very least Leon could do to try and offer some form of comfort after everything he had done. Though, it seemed that there was more to undo than he realized.

“Look, Luis… I’m sorry. For everything. There is no way I would have made it this far without you, alright? We do this together. We’re partners.” Leon wasn’t exactly good at this sort of thing, but he was willing to at least try. “Luis… I’m just worried. You were in pretty bad shape the last time I had eyes on you. I just want to take a look at you… to make sure you’re alright.” “No... no, you don’t.” He sounded miserable, like he was on the verge of tears. Despite that he came out anyway.

“Shit.” Leon’s eyes went wide at sight of him causing Luis to flinch and freeze on the spot.

He had a tail. Jesus. That’s what Leon had heard. Thump, thump, thump. Like a anxious cat, thumping against the ground. It looked about as long as Luis was tall.

“No… no hey, hey… It’s alright. I’m not going anywhere.” Leon lifted his hands, placating. And before Luis could react, he took the initiative to close the rest of the distance between him. “After everything we’ve been through. I’m not gonna abandon you now.”

Luis still didn’t look quite so sure, his face crumpling before he quickly hid it behind a pair of claw tipped hands. Leon’s heart clenched at the sight.

Why are you always hurting me?

Leon couldn’t help but recall Luis’s pained whine from what must have been only a few hours ago now. A lump formed Leon’s his throat. “I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m so sorry, Luis. I didn’t think…”

No. He had thought… impulsively. Selfishly. But he had definitely thought it through before he made the decision to infect Luis’s corpse.

Something like cold dread curled within Leon’s chest. Was he really any better than the madmen he’d faced in the past? Using dangerous bioweapons for shortsighted and selfish reasons.

Annette Birkin’s anguished words echoed back to him, “But we never meant for this to happen.”

Leon couldn’t help but remember what he’d thought at the time. What had they expected would happen?

He had just wanted to save the person that was the closest he had to a friend in a very long time.

Just this once. I can use it for something good. I have used it for something good. Luis is still here. And as long as he’s still here there’s a chance.

The thought had not made Leon feel as good as he had hoped it would. Leon ignored the slight tremor of his hands and instead pulled Luis to him.

Once he had gotten his hands on him, Leon knew he would be reluctant to let go. Not that Luis seemed to object. In fact, he curled even closer into Leon, trying to make himself smaller in the other man’s arms. Leon heard as Luis released a breath Leon had not realized he had been holding and soon felt the other man slowly relax into his embrace.

Leon took this as an opportunity to finally look the other man over. Careful of the new additions to Luis’s back, he began to rub his hand up and down it soothingly. Though, eventually his curiosity got the better of him and he began to gently trace over the hard, raised ridges he found there. They had not broken through the fabric completely, but Leon could tell just from touching them that they are hard as bone… possibly even more so.

Luis shuddered as Leon traced along them, but he didn’t pull away. Leon’s eyes were drawn his brand-new appendage however, as it swayed lazily, calmly across the floor, scraping gently against the stone. It was wrapped in armorlike plating as dark as Luis’s hair.

It looked almost metallic in the low lighting, but Leon knew it wasn’t. Though it looked a bit sturdier, he had encountered something like this before. During his trip through the lowest levels of the castle, his much too close of a call with creature he had found below.

Instead of the expected disgust, Leon found that he only felt a bit of wonder and possibly excitement. As he marveled over the ridges on Luis’s back, he wondered if they looked similar to his tail.

What this how Luis felt as he studied Las Plagas? Had he also found wonder in what should have been considered grotesque.

Leon thinks again about William and Annette Birkin and again he still can’t help but question what it was that they thought would happen.

“It’s okay, Don Quixote.” Leon said softly instead, unable to take his eyes off it. Its swaying almost hypnotic, “I’ve got you.”

In his arms, Luis finally released the sob he had been holding back. And as Leon held him as he cried, he was overcome with a nauseating feeling of helplessness.

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“Feeling better?” Leon asked.

“Sí.” Luis nodded and then breathed out releasing wispy smoke into the air. He raised his lit cigarette in the man’s direction. “Gracias, León.”

It was rare that Luis called him by his given name and Leon found that he liked the way it sounded with Luis’s accent. So, he accepted the other man’s thanks without a fuss even if he felt it was the very least, he could have done. It had taken a while for the other man the calm back down, but Leon hadn’t rushed him. He had deserved his moment. That couldn’t have been an easy thing to go through.

“I think… That it, the plaga, is responding to the stress hormones in my bloodstream.” Once again, there was half dried blood on Luis’s chin from where he must have bitten though his bottom lip. And once again Leon had to reckon with the fact that he found blood smeared on the other man’s face confoundingly attractive.

Luis stared down at the floor but didn’t seem to see it. Instead, there was a look of calm contemplation on his still quite handsome face. That was one part of Luis that had not changed much at all. His completion was still pale from blood loss and stress. There were dark veins clustered beneath those golden eyes of his that only seemed to glow brighter within the dark rings surrounding them. He looked exhausted but still quite…

That was when Leon realized that those eyes were now staring back at him.

Luis squirmed in discomfort at Leon’s intense study of him. Though, even after having been caught, Leon still found it difficult to take his eyes off of the other man. Clearing his throat and looking away to ash his cigarette, he took another drag from it before he continued.

“It must have sensed I was in danger and did the only thing it knew to do in order to protect me.” The words are said with a slight lisp. No doubt due to him still getting used to what must now be mouthful of sharp teeth.

Protect. Protect him.

There was that word again.

Even if he had promised Luis’s plaga (and wasn’t that still a weird thing to have to say) and fully intended to keep it, Leon wasn’t sure how much use he could truly be to the other man. The plaga appeared to have done its work anyway while Leon was passed out.

Everything about Luis was sharp and dangerous now.

It brought back something that Salazar had screeched at them during their fight. He had called Luis a traitor of course and many other unfavorable things just has he had Leon however, he had some very specific things to say about Luis. Leon remembered the little man screaming in frustrated rage about Luis being nothing in comparison to him. He called Luis a low born mongrel, unfit for his station. What station that was exactly Salazar didn’t take the time to elaborate on.

But Leon couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Salazar had done besides being born to earn his own. Leon decided to argue his point with a shotgun blast to the side of the ugly bastard’s head. Luis seemed to concur with a contributed rifle shot of his own.

The spoiled brat then started wailing about Luis daring to take from Lord Saddler after the man had apparently taken a shine to him over Salazar. Only to betray their lord just to keep that power for himself. This had clearly made the other man insanely jealous.

Though, screaming about Luis being unworthy to stand at his precious Lord’s side had certainly made it more than obvious.

Leon hadn’t really understood what he was going on about then, but he believed he was starting to.

Could there be something to what the lunatic had been going on about? Had Saddler ever had any intention of infecting himself with the new plaga specimen? Or had he intended it for… a partner?

Leon shuddered at the thought since because of him, Luis was the one hosting this particular plaga specimen now.

“Do you think the suppressant would help?” Leon asked, ignoring what felt uncomfortably like jealousy blooming within his chest.

Luis shrugged, apparently oblivious to Leon’s inner spiral. “There’s no real way to know for sure. It is possible but it is also possible it would do more harm than good at such an advanced stage of infection. There is still so much to know about this species of plaga. I had only just begun my study of it before… well… this.”

Luis sighed. “Even if I wanted to test it, Ashley’s dose is all that is left.” He said while looking pointedly at the other man.

Leon didn’t press it, however. Luis was right. The only dose of suppressant left was already promised to Ashley and it didn’t seem the sort of thing Luis could just whip up on a whim.

“Are you… in any pain?” He asked instead.

“Not anymore. Mostly just sore.” Luis shrugged again and grumbled under his breath, “El pequeño bastardo realmente hizo un número en mí.”

Luis’s posture had been shit since Leon had known him. But Leon had been well trained in body language and Luis was a lot smarter than he’d originally let on. Everything about the version of himself he had first presented to Leon had been meant to make him appear as harmless as possible. His speech, his mannerisms. That also included trying to shrink himself down in Leon’s presence. It was clear Luis stood a good two or three inches taller than Leon, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with the way he slouched.

From the looks of it, the other man had probably grown a few more inches still with the changes the plaga had made to his build and that was with him still hunched over out of habit more than anything. Leon had long since been made privy to what Luis was actually capable of. There was a very good reason that Luis was still alive when so many others had not been as fortunate, and it couldn’t have been just because Saddler had once had a soft spot for him.

There was no point in pretending anymore.

“Okay. No pain.” Leon said slowly, “And how is… well… are you…”

“Losing my mind as my mutation progresses?”

Leon had been surprised to learn just how observant the man was without seeming so at all. Not only that, but by the fact that he’d turned out to be quite a brilliant researcher and scientist, one that had worked for Umbrella in a past life even, because he certainly hadn’t looked or acted the part. Though, Leon supposed that he couldn’t blame the man for choosing not to fight the infected horde in a lab coat and glasses.

“Yeah… that.”

“I feel fine there too.” Luis said carefully. Once again, Leon couldn’t really blame him with a mouthful of chompers like those. He’d already caused himself to bleed once and mutation or not that had to hurt. “Everything still seems pretty clear. I believe… I am still myself.”

Leon nodded at Luis’s answer and began checking over his gear. “Good. Because we should get a move on. Krauser’s got quite the head start on us by now.”

Luis’s eyes hardened at just the mention of the major’s name. They seemed to glow brighter in the dim lighting and just as he opened his mouth to speak, the sound of ripping leather smothered anything Luis had meant to say. And instead, the other man growled in frustration.

“¡Mierda! My jacket!”

Okay so I know I totally copped out on the Salazar fight. But… he wasn’t important. In fact, he was the least important person in this chapter. Though from the looks of things, I promise that I will make up for it and then some in the next installment. Because… Krauser!

#my fan fic #fic: .scar.crossed.lovers.#au: what a time to be alive verse #ch: on the bright side/got the wrong insides #luis serra #luis serra navarro #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re4r #serennedy #infected luis au

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artichow · 1 year

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Hey! It’s CureDeity (sorry tumblr makes me ask from my main). I am here, in your inbox today, to rattle my little empty coin can and ask you to list some of your favorite beyblade fanfics! I’m going around asking a lot of people this, so feel free to ignore it if you want, but I thought this might be a good way for people to shout out some of the fanfic they really enjoy! Btw, if you can, I thought it would be helpful to list which site this fic was on so others could find it easier if they wanted to. Also, if you’ve written any fic (or have fic ideas, as we all know, imagining the same scene over and over again is the bread and butter of a writer), please also take this chance to have a massive, amazing ego and tell us which of your fics you're most proud of/is your favorite/etc.

oooohh yes yes yes!!!

i'll preface this by saying that i haven't/don't read as much fanfics as i want to and there are just so many amazing stories being made in this fandom honeslty!! also as a non native english speaker i'm always blown away by certain phrases or paragraphs that just scrtch my brain just right it's really inspiring to see what people can do with words in different ways and styles.

So first i thought about @little-christmas-song's secret santa gift to me so this is christmas (the war is over) because TFRGEHYSJ IT IS!!! so good!!! i loved reading it, the ideas and just the feeling of the setting being so well built around me while i read it!! the characterization was so good and that's really amazing because ryuga is a hassle to write right imo,, anyway really amazing style and i can't wait for other pieces from Song (i can confidently say the next one will be a banger :>)

then from @artisadie, her fic the previous wielder (is just a guy) was so emotional and like so nuanced too? like grhjesk i loved it the vibes were really good and the structure made it really pleasant to read

so many others i have to read (i'm sorry guysss) but one fic from @lady-lazagna that i felt was really on point character wise was Pumpkin head it is such a good Yu characterization me think and also Tsubasa's character is really interesting when laz writes him!! makes me appreciate him so much more

I really really loved @andro-dino's toby fic this body of mine, it's been a while and i forgot a lot of it unfortunately but i remember being just !!!!!! aaaaa so touched by that fic like,, it's so well written and just hits close to home in subtle ways and just makes you love Tioby even more if that's possible

But but but i also really loved constants because,, hyoma. And axel writes hyoma so well and i just love him so much

okay now for your fic deity!!! i have,, a lot but i tried to make it a little smaller selection, here it is: first i think aquario's refrain (and also aquario's reawakening) really marked me it's such a good read and expendation on hikaru's character and just,, so so good,, the way you write hikaru's mental health issues and fights is just amazing!!

then i looked through ao3 real quick just now and i thought back to mayblade, the last day actually!! chapter 18: moon this. this gingka, the way he is written and also just how you managed to write so many characters and keep the rythm going and just write an amazing conclusion in general aaaa i still love it immensely

and last but not least Gingka's also adopted?! because man... MAN!!! this fic kncked me down kicked me and brought me back to life and gave me just one of the best aus and ryo characterization ever i just love it it's so good i think it might be my favorite deity fanfic! everything, the different times it takes place in, the phoenix bit especially and just,, the feels so many feels

alright and also i want to take this opportunity to thank the people i've talked to and shared my silly headcanons, ocs and au ideas with, it really is a huge source of joy for me to connect with people through art, through this weird 13yo show we're invested in for one reason or the other. And even though i struggle with writing/can never finish any wip or plan any story for some reason i just love thinking about aus and my shoyo being part of this world too, thinking way too deeply about hyoma or ryuga's characters :') so thank you everyone who has let met talk about all of that with them i love you <3 and thank you for sharing your little aus, ideas, your ocs and everything in between with me too, it's really an immense pleasure to read and exchange about them every time!!

#alright i'm done :D #fanfic day!!! so cool it makes me feel really positive #very nice #mfb #thank you sm for the ask

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conduitandconjurer · 2 years

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Who do you think is Klaus’ favorite sibling?

Okay SO lol. If you asked Klaus this, he would NEVER answer you, because he's deathly afraid of conflict and of hurting a sibling's feelings in a serious way.

HOWEVER.

My particular Klaus muse does definitely have an order of favorites, but no longer has any least favorites.

Klaus is closest to Five, and vice versa. Five has even said in canon that the only people he trusts are Klaus and Viktor. One of my favorite things about Season 3 was seeing a lot of my headcanons about this confirmed. Klaus seeks out Five to be his "emotional support" in searching for his mother, and that's not solely due to Five's claim of being "retired;" Five is efficient, reliable, ingeniously intelligent, and honest. Five has a dedication to the welfare of his family that resonates with Klaus, who often undertakes the role of emotional support (albeit eccentrically) and refrains from judging any single sibling, no matter how they treat him. Their differences are complementary and as a team they supplement for each other's weaknesses; Klaus is emotionally driven and Five logically. Five is also the only sibling who could have plausibly gotten past Reginald when the Umbrellas were kids, to spend time with and comfort Klaus in the mausoleum where he was repeatedly killed. That alone has to have strengthened their bond profoundly.

Coming in a close second used to be Allison and Ben. Klaus is seen with Allison in more than one flashback, he frequently offers her emotional and practical support in Season 2 with respect to her civil rights work and her husband, and Viktor's autobiography speaks of them often pairing off together during downtime as children (Allison "painting Klaus's nails at the table" is an example). However a lot of that is a superficial bond borne of Klaus always enjoying exploring "feminine" pastimes and Allison remaining patient (like water rolling off a duck's back) when Klaus was acting out. There was a time when Allison first became famous that she did everything she could to distance herself from her "junkie" brother and his frequent appearance in trashy tabloids. In season 3 it was noteworthy that they easily grew apart when they had different interests and personal missions to attend to. I don't think they have a single scene alone in the entire season. Could this change, and could they develop a more profound bond? Absolutely. But at the present time, I actually think Allison is at the bottom of the barrel, simply by lack of deep connection.

Ben is a whole other kettle of fish. Klaus is always seen with Ben attached to his hip in flashbacks and I believe that this is because something about Klaus's influence over death and the supernatural being a soothing agent to Ben's eldritch symbiote, helping Ben remain calm and focused during Umbrella missions. This developed into a close-knit friendship, where Ben's less endearing traits were trustingly shown to Klaus, and Klaus really knew him better than all the others, who tended to idealize him as the sweet, gentle, bookish sibling (and still loved him, even while knowing him more well-roundedly). As with Five, Ben's grouchy logic and fussy pedantry mingle well with Klaus's whimsy and irresponsibility. Their time spend in a codependent relationship eroded this bond, but I believe it has every ability to be mended with Sparrow Ben, or, in my AU, with a resurrected Umbrella Ben. The main challenge is whether or not Ben will accept that Klaus is capable of growth: becoming more reliable and self-assertive without someone babysitting him.

Right behind Ben is Diego, and frankly, Diego only doesn't tie in second with Ben because he is god-awful at expressing his emotions openly, and Klaus is a feelsy binch who thrives on emotional sincerity (ironically, given how often Klaus himself tries to mask his sadness and anger). Klaus wants to be close to Diego; they certainly were close as kids because Diego's stutter never fazed Klaus, or made him treat him any differently, and all kinds of dumbass stories about them hanging out come to the surface ( "licking batteries" and "huffing paint in the basement") come to mind. Diego looks out for Klaus in season 1 more than once, and Klaus strives to return the favor. Diego is also quick to give babysitting duty of Stan to Klaus, which shows a level of trust that is surprising. However the hindrance to their bond is also on Diego needing to be a caretaker and defender of his loved ones (ironically, not unlike Five, with whom he has so much friction) and this manifesting as him thinking he knows what's best for everyone. This makes him quick to dismiss things Klaus says (where the Kugelblitz is, for instance) because he has to maintain the position of authority in the relationship, to continue to take care of Klaus. There is absolutely no doubting, however, how much Diego loves Klaus (just look at the relief on his face in 3.5 in the elevator), and sometimes I want to shake Diego like a maraca because if he'd just let his macho defenses down a tiny bit, they would be inseparable.

Right behind Diego are Viktor and Luther. Klaus's bond with Viktor suffers only because Viktor is very independent, reserved, and self-contained, and Klaus has simply never had the opportunity to spend more time with him. I was disappointed we didn't see much of this in Season 3, aside Klaus's immediate acceptance of Viktor coming out as trans, and a brief conversation during the bachelor party. However, were they to spend more time together, I believe Klaus would be delighted to learn he and Viktor have much in common. In Season 2 we already saw a bit of that: Klaus was the first to join Viktor in going to help Sissy and Harlan, and it can't have escaped him that he and Viktor share the painful experience of permanently losing a closeted lover from the 1960s.

Luther and Klaus's relationship astonishes me; Luther used to be Klaus's least favorite sibling, because of the way Luther felt pressured to be their father's faithful soldier and lieutenant, and imposed pretty judgmental, sanctimonious double-standards on Klaus and the others. Yet Luther has blossomed in season 3 into the person that both Viktor and Klaus may TRUST the most (in Klaus's case, second only to Five). Luther advocates Klaus and asks him to officiate his wedding, he praises him for his courage and power and the hard work he's done to become self-confident. Klaus leaves with Luther at the end of s3 to help him find Sloane. Both of them know the particular sting of being Reginald's "greatest disappointment," and I think there are worlds of interesting relationship terrain to cover as their friendship develops.

These are just MY takes on these relationships so I hope I haven't hurt anyone's feelinnnnngsaaaaah lol. Bottom line is there isn't one sibling Klaus doesn't adore and wouldn't die or live for. <3

#headcanons #Klaus Hargreeves #meta

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princess-of-the-corner · 2 years

Note

I love the idea of Deku not being able to pronounce Katsuki at first and when he's older he kinda forgets that his name *isn't* Kacchan because he's called him that for so long

Okay okay okay so like. I don't think they'd /forget/ but I have this entire planned sequence of events in my head that does involve the names thing.

So like. I already mentioned in my AU that Bakugo kinda just. Gets slammed into realizing things are kinda fucked a hell of a lot earlier. Like, how he's acted, how things are between him and Izuku, a lot of shit. The entire different environment at UA gets him to notice.

And instead of doubling down on being a dick or even just quietly ignoring it, something spurs him into talking about it.

They do have a long talk. Like. A long, long fucking talk. About how much has happened between them. And talking through a lot of things that /both of them/ are realizing were wrong. Because yeah Izuku isn't entirely in denial by this point, but even he wasn't entirely aware of some things that they did(I am not victim blaming, but I can see why Bakugo, already under the assumption that Izuku looks down on him, would see Izuku doing things like 'calling him a cute and embarrassing nickname despite no longer being friends' or 'using the insult Bakugo made up as a Hero Name' as insulting and prompt a reaction).

After probably talking for a few hours at this point, they've agreed to work on it. Things might never be how they were, but they aren't completely broken. (Bakugo thinks it might be broken and really thinks that Izuku should tell him to fuck off but even though he won't admit it he wants his friend back and is willing to push down the guilt of everything he's done because how can he ever apologize enough?)

ANd they do discuss the name thing. Because Bakugo is like 'well I should probably call you by your name instead of the insult, right?'. And Izuku is fine with it now because it /was/ an insult but he's turned it into something with a positive meaning and the others call him that too now.

But when Bakugo tries to fully start over with the last name shit, Izuku is like 'no way in hell'. Because he doesn't want to start over, he wants to repair what's there. And that means not pretending like the past hadn't happened.

Bakugo is hesitant and is like 'fucker we have too much history to be /friendly/ yet!'. And for a moment they table the conversation.

Things aren't over yet! Because the ending of this arc is..... Okay I know half of my followers read Other Magic, so y'all know that scene where Chloé and Juleka kick the shit out of each other in the woods to fully kinda begin to resolve shit? That.

It's a planned fight, no Quirks just hand-to-hand. They go all out and ofc the rest of the class has no idea what's happening or why this is so emotionally charged.

But before they fight, Izuku is like 'Here's a deal: If I win, you have to call me by my first name again. If you win, I'll refrain from calling you 'Kacchan' all the time!"

And then yeah they do fight. And it's fun and exhausting and ultimately ends in a draw.

Izuku: "Hm. Guess we both win that bet then."

Bakugo: "Yeah. Whatever.... Izuku."

Izuku: "We should do this again sometime, Katsuki!"

And boy he wants to shout about how that was /not/ what he thought he meant by 'not calling him Kacchan' but he is having too much of an 'Oh. Oh no.' moment to protest.

(ofc they still use the nicknames most of the time but.... well. If you want it to /mean something/ then the first names are brought out!)

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chaozsilhouette · 3 years

Text

A Revealing Performance

My rendition for the Shadow Play in @winterpower98's Swap Au.

It was supposed to be a simple thing, then it sort of spiraled into this whole deal. For the effects of the Shadow Lantern, I drew some inspiration from her Cursed Au as I never thought simply using her friends was cruel enough for the Monkey Tyrant.

It serves to show just how far Macaque has grown, but also to highlight just how monstrous he was.

_____________________________

Mei refrained from downing her bubble tea as she waited for the play to start. It had been a rough couple of weeks with Spider Queen and that creepy girl. And failing to find where Xiaotian had run off to after the misunderstanding. When Macaque sent her tickets to the local theatre, she was ashamed to think it was a trap.

Pigsy and Sandy were right. After everything that happened, she needed some serious me time. She had been too stressed.

Besides, everyone knew Macaque was a total theatre nerd. Few people knew that the star puppeteer was actually the Six-Eared Macaque himself. He would totally send her tickets from his stomping grounds as a way to unwind.

It was a shame that Tang couldn’t join them. Apparently, he finally managed to schedule a meeting with the Celestial Realm and was Taking the demon brothers to figure out a new way of sealing the Monkey Tyrant. It was also his chance to explain their little break-in during New Years. He encouraged her to have fun and if it was good, he’d join them for the next showing.

So here they were waiting for the performance to start. Although she wondered what the fake mayor was doing here. They hadn't seen him since he gave her the skeleton key. Still wasn't sure why he had it or why he gave it to her? Supposedly she was only supposed to have it for a day, but he never stopped by to pick it up.

_____________________________

Sun Wukong was a monkey of many talents, but even he had to admit Macaque was a far better storyteller and his mastery of shadows was sheer perfection. But that just made this plan all the more perfect. What better way to teach his wayward beloved’s little flower a lesson than through a trusted medium.

Obtaining a spot in the local theatre was child’s play, a little magic and they were all but begging him to take center stage. Apparently, they had been scrambling to find a new performer after their star puppeteer had to leave for a family emergency (three guesses as to who that was). And with a little glamor, a set of tickets was left at the little flower's doorstep. As far as she knew, Macaque was proud of her progress and believed she had deserved a reward for all her hard work. She was so desperate for something to go right she hardly questioned how her mentor, who was in parts unknown, managed to secure tickets for a new performer.

In his personal dressing room, Wukong delicately touched up his human disguise. Even if he was going to be hidden in his hanfu and cloak, it wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise. Applying his eye shadow with artful flair, the Monkey King took time to appreciate just how handsome he truly was no matter what form he took. Honestly, who would have thought such perfection existed?

A pulse of dark magic drew his attention to his latest partner in crime.

The Shadow Lantern gently floated before him. Its dark magic practically purring at the thought of being used. Wukong could almost laugh at his beloved’s foolishness. He was there when his darling created the lantern, when he infused his own shadows into its very foundation. Did he honestly think such a masterpiece would tolerate being left to collect dust in a cave?

Normally a magical artifact would never consider turning on its master, but after centuries of abandonment, all Wukong had to do was whisper his intentions to return Macaque to his former self to secure its loyalty. The second he first made contact, he could sense a twisted hunger writhing within and with each performance granting it the chance to feed on the life essence of the viewers…. hehe, he almost couldn’t contain himself.

Looking up at the clock, he saw it was just about time for his next performance. His clones had reported the girl’s presence along with the pig and the water demon. Strangely the one with glasses and the little matchstick was absent. No matter, he could make do with two hostages just fine.

After all, the show must go on.

_____________________________

The overhead lights dimmed, signaling the start of the play. Smoke slowly poured from beneath the floorboards, generating an air of mystery. In a flash of golden light, a tall man wearing a beautiful cloak manifested on center stage. The crowd silenced themselves at the display.

“Welcome viewers to a performance you shall never forget!” From the folds of his sleeves, an exquisite lantern floated in front of him. A mesmerizing yet familiar purple glow emanating from the center.

“Our tale tonight is one of love, companionship, and how even the strongest of bonds can be severed through the trickery of the wicked.”

In the background, the shadows twisted and grew in the lantern’s light. Carefully they formed a beautiful scene of a mountain covered in flowers and trees. Attention was gradually guided to the top, where a round stone basked in the sun.

“It all began with the birth of a King.”

The round stone broke, revealing a figure that resembled a monkey. But no, this was a monkey demon, a monkie if you would. The King journeyed down the mountain until he found a tribe of normal monkeys. The group frolicked for a while as the King established himself as the undisputed ruler of the tribe.

A large figure with an ax appeared. The monster brought down his ax upon a small collection of monkeys only to be stopped at the last second by the King. The King used his superior strength to steal the demon’s ax and used it to decapitate the intruder in a single stroke. The monkeys jumped around the King and praised his strength, but the King did not appear satisfied.

“The young King was born with great power and strength, but he sought out more to protect his people.”

The King crafted a raft and set out on a dangerous sea. The King was shown to face off against mountain gods, human warriors, and demonic sorcerers always to reign victorious but never satisfied.

“In his travels, he learned much and faced many enemies, in time his efforts were handsomely rewarded.”

The King climbed a fleet of stairs carved into a mountain to reach a humble monastery. At the top, a stern human stood, but behind him was another monkie. This one however possessed six ears.

“His quest for power led him to a Warrior of potential equaling his own. At first, neither was sure how to react to their mirror, but they quickly forged a comradery that took them far.”

The two monkies trained together, mastering new powers as they sparred.

“Their time together increased their power exponentially and as they grew stronger their feelings blossomed into something beautiful.”

The two were on a cliff overlooking the stars, slowly leaning closer to one another. Eventually, the two faced their opposite and leaned in close.

“Their fates had become intertwined. Their power was unmatched. It was then the King realized what he had been searching for all this time.”

The two shadows merged together in a complex dance until they separated into two beings once again, but not as they began. The two monkeys were now garbed in elaborate, yet practical armor and silks. The King wielded a staff and the Warrior took up a spear.

“Slowly their strength grew to where nothing could challenge them, whether in the Celestial Realm or on Earth.”

The King and Warrior were shown battling heavenly armies and powerful demons with confident smirks. Each battle resoundingly won through their combination of speed, strength, and cunning.

“But it was not enough. The King wished to ensure that he and the Warrior would be able to fight together forever and sought the power and respect needed to secure their future.”

The King took to the Heavens, where he stood before an Emperor in the most extravagant outfit, surrounded by massive guards in magical armor. The Emperor was clearly afraid as the King effortlessly toppled one guard after another, slowly approaching the throne at a steady pace.

“The King’s noble actions were viewed negatively by those who feared his ever-growing power. Eventually, a prison was crafted that could restrain the King, one that not even his beloved Warrior could destroy.”

Just before the King’s latest attack could reach the Emperor, chains wrapped around his limbs and dragged him down to Earth. With a quick flex, the chains shattered, but the King was doomed as a mountain landed on him with a seal placed at the top. The Warrior tried to pry off the seal or find some way to weaken the mountain, his acts growing more desperate with time, yet nothing worked.

“Cruelly, the King was forced to wait until he could be freed, forced to watch his precious Warrior defend their Kingdom on his own.”

With a heavy expression, the Warrior abandoned his efforts to return to the original mountain as dozens of terrifying figures surrounded the monkey inhabitants.

“Centuries passed and their love still burned strong. Soon their patience was rewarded, the King was freed but he was soon trapped in a new prison.”

A monk approached the mountain and removed the seal. The King swiftly destroyed the mountain. The monk humbly bowed to the King and offered fresh clothing and a fillet. The King garbed himself in the gifts only to collapse in agony when the monk prayed.

“Enraged the King played along until the time was right. The King and the Warrior reunited in secret and crafted a plan that would allow them to take their revenge on those that dared to separate them.”

The two monkies hugged and nuzzled each other in appreciation. A quick conversation later, the Warrior changed to resemble the King and joined the monk as the King headed into unknown lands.

“Decades later the King was ready to retrieve his love, confident in his regained strength. But when he arrived the Warrior had changed. It was as if the warrior had lost a crucial part of himself. The Warrior tried to dissuade the King from killing the monk and his companions. He even tried to convince him to give up his rage at the Celestial Realm, believing the war that would ensue wasn't worth it.”

The disguised Warrior was traveling with four colorful characters. The King dropped from the sky in front of the group, a massive crater forming around him. The Warrior regained his true form, but instead of returning to his rightful place, he blocked the King’s view of the monk.

“The King could not believe his ears. This could not be his Warrior. His love always understood his goals and knew why heaven had to pay. The King knew this change was the monk’s fault. The King moved to silence the deceiver in one quick strike only to find it blocked by the Warrior.”

The King and Warrior exchanged blows that tore mountains asunder, split the heavens, and burned down forests. The other demons following the monk tried to aid the warrior, but nothing they did seemed to slow down the King, if anything their attacks only served to further enrage him.

“The two clashed until the Warrior fled with the jailers. Time and time again they clashed, but never could the King reach the Warrior he held in his heart.”

The group fled from the battle, but time and time again the King tracked them down. The locations may have changed, but the carnage after each battle remained as world-shattering as the first. In the end, the Group managed to truly escape, and the Warrior vanished into the shadows he wielded, leaving the King alone with nothing but his memories.

“Even now the King yearns for the companionship of his beloved Warrior, knowing that at his core the Warrior craves the same.”

With the final line sending shivers down the spines of the viewers, the puppeteer vanished in a flash of light.

_____________________________

As Mei waited for her family to walk out, she couldn’t help but think about the play. It almost sounded like they were telling the tale of the Monkey King. But that was ridiculous. No one knew the Monkey King’s origins aside from minor details from the Journey to the West. Besides the narrator seemed to view the Monkey Tryant as a hero and victim. Clearly, that guy needed a reality check.

“Hello, young one.” Nearly choking on the remainder of her tea, Mei turned to see the puppeteer standing behind her with a knowing smile.

His cloak shrouding the top of his face in shadow. For a second, Mei envisioned her father Macaque. He would adore that look. Actually, didn’t she see a similar outfit in his closet on Flower Fruit Mountain? Doesn’t he wear that outfit when he’s hosting a shadow play?

Wait. How did he sneak up on her like that? Was she that out of it?

How long has she been quiet? Crap! Say something! “Oh. Ah-hello. C-can I help you with something?”

“I was about to ask the same. You do know the theatre is going to close soon right?”

“What?” Mei grabbed her phone. The digital clock flashed that it was past nine. That couldn’t be right. That meant she had been waiting for nearly an hour. But where were the others? Surely, they wouldn’t have left without telling her. Were they in trouble?

“Is everything alright?”

“Ah- yeah, everything’s fine.” It’s cool. It’s cool. She could handle this. She just needed to stay calm. “No need to worry about me. I just ah-I have a few questions about your play.”

“Yes.”

“How did you could up with the concept? I mean, no offense, but your premise could be taken the wrong way.” Maybe it was the panic over where her family had disappeared to, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being sized up.

“Hm. Have you ever heard the expression ‘History is written by the winners’?”

“Yes. It’s pretty common.” Like one of the most used sayings in the world.

“The tale was designed to show that love is one of the most cherished feelings of all and that in order to protect it, one must be willing to do anything to keep their loved ones safe. The King only wished to keep his beloved by his side, but the Warrior was misled and forced to battle against his love. That story may belong to only two, but similar tales can be experienced in anyone’s life. Tell me, can you think of a time you fought with those you cared about due to a misunderstanding?”

Without even considering it, horrible memories resurfaced. Mei arguing with MK as she tried to stop him from leaving with the newly released Monkey King. Mei forced to battle Red Son as his mind was slowly consumed by the True Fire of Samadhi. Tang lying to them about his true identity. Macaque leaving when they needed him most without saying why.

“I see you can.” The puppeteer gently guided her back into the main hall, where she took a seat on an empty bench.

“It’s nothing. I just-” She honestly didn’t know why she was pouring out her heart to stranger. Maybe she really was that exhausted. “-there’s so much going on and I’m supposed to be strong no matter what. But sometimes it hurts, just thinking about all my mistakes. Sometimes I wonder if I truly am strong. What if bringing me into this was a mistake?”

“What if it was?” That voice!

Mei turned to see Macaque garbed in a strange outfit, one that honestly reminded her of the Monkey King’s. She was confused. She had never seen him wear anything like that, he looked like the Monkey King’s twisted shadow.

And that expression! Her father Macaque had never made that face before. It looked as though he was reveling in her suffering.

“What’s the matter, little jade? Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone.” He extended a hand slowly with the intent to cradle her face. A normal gesture he would use to comfort her, but her every instinct was screaming at her to get away.

Mei jumped to her feet and pulled out her spear, aiming it right between the imposter’s eyes. “Enough games!”

Macaque stared at the spear for a second, his fiendish expression only growing more vicious. He threw his head back with a full-bodied laugh, showing how little he thought of her threat. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

In a flash of light, the Monkey Tyrant was standing before her, still wearing his puppeteer disguise. “Wow. About time. For a while, I was wondering if you’d ever figure out it was me.” His red and gold eyes carefully roved over her body, taking in every shake and fearful twitch. “Put down the spear, kid. We both know you’re not nearly good enough to scratch me with such a pitiful copy of the Dragon Blade.”

That may have been true, but she’d sooner make out with DBP in full view of Queen Iron Fan than leave herself completely open before this tyrant. “So the play was from your perspective. I always figured you were delusional, but this is a new low. Where is my family?” She all but growled, unknowingly her canines had slightly elongated in response to her rage.

“They never left. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this.” The Monkey King took out the lantern, once more bathing the room in that familiar glow.

“What’s the big deal about a lantern?”

The stone monkie found her ignorance all the more entertaining. To think he hadn’t warned her of his own past.

“The big deal is that my dear warrior crafted this lantern long ago. It was his finest work and like everything he made it has multiple uses.” With a simple hand gesture, the silhouettes of Pigsy and Sandy appeared on the walls. “The Shadow Lantern can do more than enhance one’s skills in shadow magic, it can trap the bodies and souls of its targets. So long as the targets are trapped, the lantern can steal the shadows of its victims so its master can use them as a personal army until there is nothing left.”

“You expect me to believe Macaque made something so disgusting?” Even as Mei said it, she couldn’t help but recognize how similar the lantern’s magic was to her teacher’s. It was cool and soothing, but on the edge, there was an unmistakable edge of malice. “Even if he did, I doubt he made it without you whispering in his ears.”

“Oh child, you have no idea how many secrets he keeps from you. Let me share one with you.” The lantern grew brighter, and the silhouettes of her family members gained more substance as they peeled away from the walls.

Mei adjusted herself so all opponents were in her sight, but nothing could stop the sweat collecting on her forehead.

She sensed something powerful appear behind her. Jumping out of the way as a spear nearly severed her arm. She faced her new opponent. Only to almost drop her weapon.

Standing before her was another copy of Macaque only this one was even more disturbing. Its eyes burned with purple light, the shadows loving curled around it, but worst of all was the sneer filled with razor-tipped teeth.

“Did you honestly think my love was always so nice?”

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #lmk #long xiaojiao #mei #sun wukong #liu er mihou #monkey king #monkie kid swap au #shadow lantern #winterpower98 #i need to lay down #shadow play #monkey tyrant

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llamakenma · 3 years

Text

cause spring never came (6)

~akaashi keiji x fem!reader

~summary. where feelings never faded for you and him, yet fate made sure it was never meant to be.

~genre. exes to lovers, modern au, cheating au

~warning. angst, fluff

five -> masterlist! -> seven

"hello y/n."

you grimaced at his words, you were hoping that they would not notice you amongst the large crowd, but your hope was simply in vain.

"good evening akaashi-kun."

"i didn't know you were attending the party, it was quite a surprise meeting you here."

you forced a small smile at the pair, slightly lingering your eyes on the hooked arms, before quickly leveling your eyes again. of course, it was surprising to him, he had twisted his words for your sympathy after all, which you were quite glad that you didn't offer.

"i received an invitation from the company, and it would be rude to decline, is it not?"

akaashi nodded his head at your reply, agreeing with your statement.

"you look great, by the way," he complimented, and before you could reply with a small thank you, a voice interrupted the conversation.

"hey y/n, long time no see." a sickeningly sweet voice spoke, sending shivers down your spine as you tried not to cringe at her. she closed in towards akaashi, slightly rubbing his arms as she did, obviously trying to remind you just how she snatched him right under your nose.

"amira-san." you nodded your head in acknowledgment, avoiding holding a further conversation with her, "then, please excuse me."

you felt a hand grab your wrist, slender bony fingers tight around your skin. not wanting to cause a scene, you remained, without snatching your wrist away from amira.

"why don't we catch up y/n? it's been so long, after all, we could talk about random stuff like we used to."

you huffed at her words, biting your lips to refrain from lashing out at her words. how did she honestly expect for you to talk about with her? how akaashi had cheated on you with her? how you did not expect her to betray you but she did?

you turned around to face her, faking a smile as you did so, internally hoping to end the conversation as fast as you could possibly do so. it was a waste of air to talk to people who no longer mean anything to you, so why bother, right?

"maybe sometime amira-san."

"but we have the whole night to ourselves y/n. we could talk right now."

"i apologize amira-san," kiyoko spoke up, "y/n-san has matters to handle tonight, and it can't be canceled, so it would be great if we could excuse ourselves."

you held back your laughter at her dumbfounded face, before ripping away your hand from her grip, as your dragged kiyoko further into the crowd.

"thank you kiyoko, this is exactly why you're awesome."

"only this?"

"nah, you're always awesome."

"that's more like it."

the soft chatters enveloped the evening, the words blending in with one another as they buried themselves into the background. the ambiance was just cozy enough, with fairy lights dangling from tree to tree, giving out a meek glow. the hint of freshly mowed grass wafted under your nose with every rustle and step you took on the lush green grass.

everything about the party screamed warm, except maybe for a few stares here and there, and particularly the one that burnt holes into your back amongst the crowd. you itched with discomfort, trying to pry off the attention-seeking glance that came from akaashi keiji, your former lover, and your current work partner- turns out blending into the crowd was not quite enough.

trudging with heavy steps, you attempted to make way towards the buffet, ready to stuff yourself with the glazing food that welcomed you from a mile away. with much eagerness, you strode towards the table, only to find yourself midway on your adventure to high-five the ground with your face after you tripped yourself by stepping on your dress.

"woah there, careful."

slowly opening your closed eyes, you puffed out a gasp of air, with relief, thankful to the person who saved you from the possible embarrassment. you stood up, removing yourself from the hands that were previously wrapped around your waist, as you dusted yourself before turning to face the person.

"thank you.. for saving me."

you handed him a smile, slightly observing him as you waited for a response. dressed lightly in a casual maroon suit, he stood tall in front of you, complimented with killer looks and.. a bedhead?

you chuckled at the sight, it reminded you greatly of the rooster you had back in elementary school, bringing it to show and tell just to freak everyone out when it pecked the teacher. its comb, the same shade of red as his shirt, resembled his hair to a great extent.

"no problem, pretty lady, and i don't think it's nice to laugh at someone's appearance."

"oh, i apologize, it's just you reminded me of my pet from elementary, and i was just laughing at the memory."

"it's okay pretty lady, i was just joking. the name's kuroo, kuroo tetsuro. and do you have a name? or do i just call you pretty lady."

"y/n's fine. and please refrain from calling me pretty lady, you make me blush."

he chuckled at your sarcasm, letting out a voice that sounded more like a low-pitched screech of a hyena, than a normal human-y sound. you pursed your lips, trying to stop yourself from asking him just how many animals he took after. tears edged your eyes from withheld laughter, your cheek muscles itching to move around.

"ok y/n, would you like to walk around?"

you jumped at the offer, dying to leave the stuffy crowd that held the people you wished to see last, "sure."

he offered you his hand, giving you a smirk as he did so, "pretty lady?"

you smiled at his words, "very well."

kuroo tetsuro was a package of things: he was an idiot, he was a chemistry freak, he had the looks and all, and above all, he knew how to make you laugh. you were not a strict person, you loved to laugh at any occasion, but after the incident that occurred before the party started, it was enough to ruin your mood- but fortunately, kuroo was there to fix it.

however, he was not at all charming.

you had believed he was, perhaps just enough to scrape by with the ladies, with his use of words and such, but you have come to the knowledge of how the ladies tend to excuse themselves after hearing his laugh, which was why he tries to refrain from using it; keyword: tries.

he was a fun person himself, which was probably the main reason why laughing and he seemed to be an awesome combo, or so you like to think.

"hey y/n! did you know that the only alphabet that is not used in the periodic table is J? like every other letter is included but they excluded J from the party."

and there goes another chemistry fact.

"oh is it now? seems like you are that J in most instances."

"rude."

"ok but to be fair, that's an interesting point, who knew chemists were biased."

"i know right!"

you looked around, taking advantage of the settling silence, which was quite rare with the man, to inspect the event area. the slight chatter of the crowd was no longer heard of, instead, the shy buzz of the fireflies settled in the air. the air had gotten noticeably cooler around the area, as you slightly trembled as the modest breeze. the fairy lights were still present, though much lesser, the brightness no longer a dizzy yellow, like it was back at the crowd.

a soft glimmer, along with the melodic rush of water greeting you, caught your attention. picking up your pace you walked towards the pool, taking off your heels as you reached the edge, as you dipped your feet into the steady water. you shivered slightly at the touch, before relaxing into the soothing feeling against your burning feet- the water held a perfect temperature, just the right amount of warmth.

you closed your eyes, as you swayed along to the classical music that played in the background, sonorous against the mellow music of the water.

you felt a small ripple against your legs, along with a minuscule sound of skin slapping with water, as kuroo sat beside you, his feet also in the water.

"did you know that dihydrogen monoxide is also known as water? "

you faced him, "that, i know, try again."

"you did not."

"i did. unfortunately for you, i also learned chemistry in high school."

he frowned at that, his lips slightly curving upwards despite his reaction.

"so there's some chemistry between us?"

"nitric oxide."

he let out a dramatic gasp, his hands covering his mouth at your response. his eyebrows furrowed, as the light breeze slightly swooshed past his hair, perfecting his act. you were speechless at the timing of the wind, just how much did the guy pay the wind for this one moment?

you rested your back against the cold tiling, gazing at the weak gleam of the stars that glittered in the vaguely luminescent sky, as you tried to spot the constellations. a smile painted your lips when you found the dipper, feeling all giddy at your small accomplishment.

"hey."

you responded with a hum, not wanting to ruin the serenity of the atmosphere.

"care to dance?"

you raised an eyebrow at him.

"oh come on, there's the music, the light is perfect, let's make a scene out of a book."

you laughed at his words, "is that your dream?"

"maybe."

"alright then, let's fulfill that dream."

you pushed yourself off the ground, standing up to give your hand to his outstretched one.

"i should tell you, i don't know how to waltz." "neither do i."

you gaped at him in disbelief, "but you're the one who wanted to do this?"

"that doesn't mean i need to know how to do it."

"fair point."

kuroo pulled you towards him, placing his hand on your waist as you placed yours on his shoulder.

"one two three, one two three."

"ouch." you muttered as he stepped onto your already pained feet, though it didn't hurt much seeing that you both were barefoot.

"hey! you're supposed to move with me too."

"well sorry, mister but i have no idea what you were trying to accomplish."

"it's the steps... i think."

you couldn't help but laugh at just how lost he looked at the moment, "why don't we just lay down at stare at the stars.. together. you can tell me about the constellations, it's also a scene out of a book, no?"

"ok, i guess that would be easier."

laying on the patch of well-trimmed grass that sat near the patio, you could feel kuroo inching towards you, preparing to point out the constellations.

"now look y/n, there's the big dipper," he said, connecting the stars like a connect the dots book.

"and there's the orion."

you nodded along at his comments, trying to see the constellations as much as you could, memorizing them at the same time, just so you could remember them when you stare at the sky at night.

a slight warmth on you dragged you back to reality, as you saw the coat kuroo was wearing earlier, now laid on your chest.

"it's cold y/n."

your head snapped towards him at his comment, only to see him handing you a soft smile, his hands beneath his head, and his head slightly tilted towards you.

"yea... i guess it is."

(@ in bold cannot be tagged)

send an ask to be on the taglist!

hmm dunno if i should turn this into a kuroo x reader yet. potential candidate tho.

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

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gwynriel appreciation week-day 5

au day

Pirate headcanons

They start out as rival captains of their own ships

Gwyn’s ship is called the silver majesty. gwyn used to work for the crown but went rogue and took her crew with her. She kept the name. But don’t be fooled by it’s cuteness because her crew is as cut throat as they come

what they lack in resources, they make up for in ruthlessness and determination

Azriel’s ship is called the shadowsinger. His boat is dark as night and if they don’t want to be found, you could scour the entire world and won’t find a damn thing

they are clever and brutal. they do not make mistakes and when they hit, they hit fast and hard

Gwyn’s first mate is Nesta: the strategist with a grudge. She’s the fire of the group. you do not cross nesta, And her quarter master is Emerie: the responsible rock of the group with a secret vicious side. emerie always has been the most creative. Gwyn is the captain. She won her crew and position through sheer will. Gwyn is the glue that holds them together

Azriel’s first mate is Rhys: he’s cold and calculating. Always thinking, always plotting. And his quarter master is Cassian: he provides the brute force. You need to get rid of someone, cassians your guy, for the right price of course. he is the friendliest of them all. Azriel is the captain: azriel is lethal and quiet. He lets Rhys and Cassian deal with the rest of the crew while he acts as the mysterious captain with secrets for days. He keeps his position because he never fails to provide. Azriel’s got grit and a way of knowing everything that goes around him.

The silver majesty and The shadowsinger have crossed paths only once before when they both cost each other a job

To gwyn, the shadowsinger is a myth just as the silver majesty is a legend to azriel. Neither knew that they had crossed paths. But they both vowed when they found the ship that ruined that job, they would get revenge.

both respect the other as the second best in the business

Gwyn docks her ship in the summer court. There she takes her crew to a bar.

they walk in, a bunch of scary ass pirate ladies and everyone turns away, not wanting to draw their attention

Gwyn walks to the counter with Emerie and Nesta in tow. She asks for a women named Mor.

Mor is the sweet blonde bar tender. Although she has been known to hear things she shouldn’t and well gwyn may or may not pay for that information

“What do you got for me blondie”

“I got a lot of things, depends what you want” mor looked her up and down and smirked.

“maybe later, you hear anything since the last time we were around?”

“Maybe I have, Maybe I haven’t”

Gwyn knows to be patient with her, they continue this back and forth for a couple minutes before finally mor mentions she been hearing of possibly the biggest hall they ever came across. but it’s hidden and you need the map to get there. and it is very possible that mor has someone willing to trade for the map.

I’m just going to cut to the chase, she stalls the buyer (his name is tamlin) with pretty words and false promises while nesta and emerie steal it

They get back to the silver majesty triumphant and drunk as fuck

But then they realize, the map is blank. Nesta has already pulled out her two katanas and is ready to start slitting throats. specifically tamlin

emerie has yanked her daggers from their sheaths and is halfway out the door

but gwyn holds them off. she examines the map more closely, she has a hunch but she need to meet with another acquaintance first

The silver majesty makes the rough trip to the dreaded spring court. terrible place. truly terrible. said to be haunted.

They find elain archeron in her manor. it is overgrown with plants but gwyn knows she likes it that way. Elain is a witch but her gifts tend to fall into the prophecy sort. Nesta stays a step behind, refusing to look at her sister.

“Hello sister, sister’s friends” nesta grits her teeth ready to bite but gwyn hushes her.

“Witch”

“Seer” Elain corrects. “Witch has such an awful stigma around it, it’s bad for business. but seer has the perfect balance of ‘I can tell you your future but you shouldn’t fear me’ brings in a lot more people this way.”

“so let me guess, you need my help for a certain treasure I’ve heard about recently”

“guessing games aren’t fun when you can see the future but yes”

“ah my dear-”

gwyn cut her off “I am older than you”

“Gwyneth, sweetie, the wise witch persona brings in business” Gwyn refrained from rolling her eyes, out of all the batshit crazy people she had to deal with, her first mate’s sister was by far the worst.

it didn’t help that they used to date and everything gwyn used to find endearing now pissed her off

Elain brought out a pearlescent ball, she put her hands over it in a dramatic spectacle. Gwyn knew she didn’t actually need the whole get up but Elain lived for the performance so she let it slide. Her eyes began to change, one glowed a bright white while the other was pitch black.

Emerie shifted uncomfortably. She never did like magic. minutes passed before Elain’s eyes went back to normal and she regained consciousness

“Name your price Seer”

“I want one day with my sisters”

Nesta snapped to attention. her voice was cold, soft but lethal “did you say sister or sisters”

Elain to her credit did not flinch “yes feyre is here, it was just a happy coincidence that you both came today.” Elain winked. but they all knew nothing was ever a coincidence with the walking oracle.

Gwyn looked at Nesta. Silently they conversed. Elain waited patiently while Gwyn tried to convince nesta to take the deal. finally they came to a conclusion

“One hour, I will spend one hour with you and her” Feyre was an assassin for the crown. Gwyn didn’t know how someone who murdered for a living could be so righteous but the archeron sisters were something else. The silver majesty spent a lot of time with her before they abandoned post and well feyre and nesta have never gotten along. but the falling out was not pretty. they haven’t spoken since

“leave the katanas, If I get one hour with my sisters it will not be spent fighting”

nesta begrudgingly disarmed and handed her legendary swords to emerie. “take care of my babies”

“not a scratch” emerie said with a mock solute

....

exactly one hour later nesta came back to the ship alone. Nothing shook her second and yet nesta’s eyes were wide.

“well what do we need?”

“Not what, who”

“we need a myth. we need a pirate folktale. we need”

“The shadow singer” emerie finished with a whisper. an eeriness spread over the ship at the mention of that name. Shit, they were in such deep shit.

Honorary headcanon but no scene: gwyn and az get down and dirty on a boat. I’ll let you guys imagine the rest. (though there is a chance I will get back to this and write it out)

#gwynriel #gwynriel week #gwyn berdara #azriel #pirate au

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booksofkingdomsandcourts · 3 years

Text

Nessian Modern AU: Proposal

A “sequel” to the drabble here that I posted for Nessian Week. As always, what started as a drabble spawned a full-length oneshot. Anyway, writing Nessian was a joy and I look forward to writing more for them in the future. Enjoy!

Warning: Gets a little NSFW near the end because, you know. Them.

Cassian could feel the little velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket. Were his hands shaking? He was sure they were shaking. Oh god, what if he dropped it? It probably wouldn’t go anywhere, they were pretty far from the edge of the balcony, but it would certainly be embarrassing.

His smart watch buzzed and he looked down at it to see a text from Azriel that said Dude, you’re practically sweating through your suit. Chill the fuck out. Cassian looked up and glared over the table at him. Azriel made a little “calm down” motion with his hands, and Cassian was so wired that if they’d been sitting closer he would have decked him. Luckily, Nesta was engrossed in a conversation with Emerie and Mor and wasn’t paying attention. The way everyone kept glancing at Cassian he was sure that she would have noticed something was going on by now, but she seemed unaware.

Of course, the party was already all about her, she just hadn’t seemed to realize that they were (hopefully) going to be celebrating more than one thing. When she had gotten accepted into law school Cassian had promised her a celebration for the ages, knowing it could double as the perfect chance to pop the question. He had tried to keep it on the down-low, but his brothers had seen right through him. As soon as he had said, “So I’m thinking about planning a trip to Vegas to celebrate Nesta getting into law school. I just want to do something really special for her, you know?” they had turned to him with matching grins and said,

“Oh yeah? Just a casual trip to one of the most spectacular cities in the country?”

“Any special shopping you need to do first?”

Cassian had swung at them while they dodged and laughed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to know, it was just that he worried that someone would let something slip to Nesta and ruin the surprise. But then he realized there was no keeping everyone from knowing, because he had to ask Feyre and Elain for their blessing (they gave it readily, with squeals and big hugs), and then he had to ask Emerie and Gwyn to help him find out about rings. Now he sat with what he hoped was the perfect ring in his pocket, showy but classy, with two black diamonds set on either side of a shining two carat white diamond. Shiny and noticeable but…tastefully so, he hoped. That was what Emerie and Gwyn had reported, and really, he should have guessed that, because Nesta liked to be noticed, but only in a way where she was respected, or at least revered.

Now they sat on a private balcony for a dinner service Rhys had helped Cassian book overlooking the Vegas strip, lights and fountains glittering around them, the noise of the strip a pleasant background hum. They had all the usual suspects—Azriel, Rhys and Feyre, Mor and Amren and Varian, Elain and Lucien, and of course, Gwyn and Emerie. Everyone Cassian thought Nesta would want to be here, and the usual plus ones that had to be invited either way. He knew Nesta wouldn’t want a true Jumbotron-style public proposal, but surely this was okay, right? Just their friends? He didn’t think she’d want no one to see it, and yet—

“Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his knee. He started, almost jumping out of his skin. She laughed. “What, did I startle you, sitting here exactly where I’ve been the whole time? Where are those judo reflexes now?”

They all had a nice buzz going, though they were refraining from getting really messy until after dinner. Nesta was maybe the most openly happy Cassian had ever seen her, smiling and laughing and shining in a way that he had never seen before. He knew she was really proud to finally be going to law school after all this time. He could only hope that after this dinner her good mood would be doubled, not dampened.

“Anyway,” Nesta continued, scooting her chair closer to his and sliding her hand dangerously up his thigh. “Could I steal you for a minute after dessert?”

She looked fucking stunning tonight. Not that she didn’t always, but in that little black dress with her perfect tits tastefully on display, her lithe legs in those heels, and her hair swept up and away from her neck, Cassian might have asked to marry her even if she wasn’t his girlfriend. The only thing keeping his libido in check were his nerves, and if she said yes, it wasn’t going to be much of a competition between the two anymore. But until then….

Cassian put his arm around her shoulders, trying to act natural. “I think we’re going to have cocktails then head out and hit the Strip again.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. So it’ll be a while before we’re back in our room for the night. I was thinking we could just take a minute.” She moved her fingers on his leg again and with her other hand tilted his head to hers for a kiss. “You look so fucking good in that suit baby,” she whispered against his mouth.

God, he couldn’t wait to marry her. He lost himself for a second, drinking in the feeling of her lips on his, her warm hand against his thigh. She had to say yes. She had to, or Cassian wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

“Get a room!” Lucien called from the other side of the balcony. Cassian heard Elain chide him.

Nesta pulled away and whipped back, “You are here on courtesy invite only, asshole.”

“Nesta!” Elain complained.

If there was anything that would put a damper on Cassian’s marriage plans it was that if he married Nesta and Lucien married Elain, he’d be stuck with the little shithead for the rest of his life. Then Cassian looked at Nesta, already laughing with Emerie again, her hand still resting on his leg, and knew that he couldn’t even pretend. Nothing could cause him to hesitate.

That had to include his nerves. Now that they were finishing with dessert, the servers would be waiting for his speech before bringing out the cocktails and champagne. If he waited too much longer, Nesta would begin to wonder what the holdup was. Fuck his nerves. The last thing he was going to let keep him from marrying Nesta was himself.

So Cassian stood, taking Nesta’s hand and standing her up. Her face brightened, and she gave him a look through her eyelashes. Then it turned to confusion as he started leading her out onto the balcony, in front of everyone.

“Um, I was thinking we’d go inside,” she whispered to him, but he could hear the question in her playful tone. What the hell are you doing?

What he came here to do.

“Everyone?” he said, just loud enough to beat the ambient noise of Vegas below them. They all turned to him from their scattered little tables, and he hoped Nesta wouldn’t read into the eagerness on their faces. Here it was: the main event.

He didn’t let go of Nesta’s hand as he continued, “I want to thank you all so much for coming this weekend to celebrate the most incredible woman any of us have ever been blessed to have in their presence, soon to be the best attorney this nation has ever seen.”

Everyone clapped as Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Cassian, stop.” But she was smiling.

He didn’t stop, but instead continued, “It has been such an honor to get to be the one by her side through all she has accomplished these past few years. ‘Now Cassian,’ you might be thinking, ‘surely some of that can be attributed to her incredible fitness coach.’ And you would be right,” he said, and as everyone laughed good-naturedly, he heard Nesta mutter, “Nevermind I fucking hate you.” He wasn’t facing her, but he could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“But in all seriousness, Nesta is the most amazing woman I have ever met. If you all could see her behind the scenes, how hard she works, how much she cares about her family and her friends,” Cassian paused to take Nesta’s other hand, turning her to face him. There were a hundred specific little things he could list, but knowing how easily she was embarrassed, he would leave it at that until they were alone. “I think you’d be pretty in love with her too.”

There were a couple of “aw”s from the crowd, and Cassian was pretty sure Lucien’s was genuine. Nesta was blushing, but Cassian was glad to see she was still smiling. “Cassian, how drunk are you?" she laughed.

“Just enough to fight my nerves,” he replied honestly.

Her smile froze, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What are you nervous about?”

He gave her a grin that he was sure looked nervous as hell. “Would you be mad if I told you I might have had an additional motive for planning this trip?”

He watched as her face changed, putting the clues together just as Cassian sank down onto one knee. She pulled her hands out of his, putting them both over her mouth as Cassian fished the little box out of the inside of his jacket and popped it open. He looked up into her eyes, wide as saucers now, and said, “Nesta Archeron. You are the strongest, sexiest, most capable, most remarkable woman I have ever been fortunate enough to cross the path of. I love everything about you, and I love everything about us. Marry me, Ness. I think we both know this is forever—let’s make it official.”

She made a slight keening sound. Her face had turned very red, and Cassian could see that she was trembling. But at his question she started nodding frantically, and she choked out a, “Yes. Yes, yes.”

Their little audience erupted into cheers as Cassian slid the ring onto her finger and stood. Before he could even kiss her, she pulled herself against him with crushing force, burying her face in his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering as she pulled in big, heaving breaths. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Then, after a moment without her breaths settling, Cassian said, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Nesta said, pulling away just enough to talk. Her face was red and streaked with heavy tears. Her breaths were still labored, and Cassian suddenly realized she was genuinely hyperventilating. “Yes, I just, oh god, I can’t—” The words came out choppy as she tried to catch her breath, still crying. She buried herself back in his chest and he realized she was trying to hide her hysterics.

“Okay, okay,” Cassian said quietly, hoping to calm her down before she made herself light headed and passed out. “Let’s step inside, okay? Are you okay to move?”

She nodded, gasping. He gently put his hand on her waist and guided her past the tables. The rest of the party watched with concern, but he mouthed we’ll be right back as he led Nesta inside.

The space inside was mostly just a hall to the balcony, so Cassian pulled Nesta aside to the little alcove by the bathrooms so they would be hidden from the big glass windows. As soon as they were out of sight he pulled her back close to him.

“Just tell me this is happy crying,” he said.

“It is,” Nesta said thickly with a choked laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, slowly stroking his fingers down her back to calm her. “If I had known this would be your reaction, I would have planned something private for you.”

“No! It was perfect,” she said. “Everything was perfect. I—I didn’t know I’d react like this.” She was still sniffling. “I’ve never really imagined my own engagement. I—I never thought I’d love someone this much. That someone would love me this much.”

“I love you that much and more,” Cassian said, meaning it with everything he had. “I would marry you tonight if you wanted. We’re in Vegas—pick any venue and we can make it official.”

She laughed. Her throat still sounded thick but her breathing had returned to normal. “Oh no. We’re having the most grandiose wedding anyone has ever seen. If I’m getting married, everyone is going to know. And I want a ten thousand dollar dress.”

“Deal,” Cassian said without hesitation. Nesta’s heels already brought her much closer to Cassian’s face than usual, but she still had to press herself up an extra inch on her toes to kiss him. Cassian leaned down obligingly, and now feeling the warmth of her body, the cold press of her ring against his jaw as she cupped his face, sent heat settling at the front of his pelvis.

“Now what would you say if I told you to drop your panties,” he growled against her mouth.

She smirked. “I’d say I would.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head to whisper in his ear, “But I’d have to be wearing some.”

Cassian groaned, sliding his hands up under the hem of her dress and indeed finding only bare skin. “Fuck, Ness.”

“I was hoping you’d get handsy and find out during dinner,” she said. “But you had other things on your mind, apparently.”

“From now on I promise to always put my hands up your skirt at dinner to check if you’re commando,” Cassian said.

“At every dinner,” Nesta said, kissing him again. “For the rest of our lives. That better be in your wedding vows.”

“For the rest of our lives,” he repeated.

“For the rest of our lives,” she echoed again. Then she kissed him again, passionately, slipping her tongue over his lips.

He pulled his hands out from her dress and opened the door to the bathroom beside them. “Get in,” he commanded, voice a tight snarl. Nesta took her time, sending him a sultry look through ruined makeup as she swayed her hips and made her way into the single-person room. Cassian followed, locking the door. She stayed with her back to him, watching in the mirror as he slid his suit jacket off and hung it on the hook on the door. She licked her bottom lip as he rolled his sleeves up just a little, to try and make sure he wouldn’t soil them. He met her eyes in the mirror, and he read her intention in the look on her face. She leaned forward and braced herself on the sink.

“Alright then,” he chuckled, undoing his belt and unfastening his pants to slide them down just over his rapidly hardening cock. He shoved the hem of her dress up to expose her bare ass and said, “Better make sure you’ve got a good grip on that sink, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”

*~*~*

Cassian made his way back out onto the balcony, put back together on the outside but with his head still swimming with the look on Nesta’s face in the mirror as she finished around him. Evidently someone had made the wise call to start cocktail hour without waiting for them, and the laughter he heard around him sounded a lot louder and messier than it had when he’d left. Gwyn and Emerie quickly departed for inside, makeup bags in hand, to help clean Nesta up for the rest of the night. Cassian was swarmed with congratulations, and he ordered a scotch on the rocks to keep him busy while he waited for his fiancée to reemerge.

When Nesta reentered the party she was almost knocked to the ground by her sisters, and she begged them not to make her cry again. Rhys motioned to a server who brought out a bottle of champagne Rhysand had specially reserved for Nesta and Cassian (Cassian didn’t even want to know how much it cost), and Nesta popped the cork to raucous applause. Elain slapped them both with Just Engaged! sashes to wear for the rest of the night, and through it all, there was never a moment that Nesta and Cassian didn’t have some form of physical contact, be it holding hands or hips against each other or an arm around the shoulder. Cassian caught the way Nesta kept looking at her ring, tilting her hand to make it glitter in the lights. Then she would look at him, and she would smile, and as they headed out the Strip to celebrate, Cassian felt happier than he ever had in his entire life.

#nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #my writing

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sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

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let’s break the ice | m.l | two

🏒 SYNOPSIS— in which your college’s hockey team crashes your lunch plans after practice and you have to get away before dying of embarrassment 🏒 GENRE— fluff, humor, crack, college!au, ice hockey!au 🏒 PAIRING— ice hockey captain!mark lee x reader 🏒 WORD COUNT— 1.5k 🏒 WARNINGS— sexual innuendos made; povs switching during the same scene; cursing

🏒 AUTHOR’S NOTE— oh shit, does that say part two?? l m a o

y’all asked for it, so here it is! i’m turning this into a mini-series featuring random snapshots of mark with his love interest! no regular updates, the parts are just going to be randomly uploaded as we go. surprise surprise! i have a couple of moments planned already, so stay tuned! (i’m still working on the requests i have left as well as my other wips, please be patient with me!)

< prev | next >

You take that back, you absolutely hate hockey. More specifically, you hate the handsome devils that make up NCT U’s team and how they turned your meal with Jaemin and Jeno to a team dinner.

You hate how they are relentless in their teasing and force you into a chair right next to their captain. And you absolutely despise how all eyes are on you as Mark tries to strike a conversation with you.

The group decided to forgo your original plans of eating at a Thai place, opting to visit the local diner they frequented instead. You felt sorry for the person waiting on your group; having to deal with a loudmouth team that wanted to split the check was always a struggle. They just smiled as they readied your seating, pushing several tables together to accommodate your group. They quickly took your drink orders, the others ordering milkshakes and sodas while you and Mark just asked for waters. Your friends mocked you for even getting the same drink and it just went spiraling from there.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Mark whispers under his breath, hand coming up to cover his small face. “They’re being dumb. I’ll tell them to stop.”

He’s leaning his body towards yours and you feel the team’s stares as you move to cover your mouth. “Are they like this all the time? I mean, I know Jaemin and Donghyuck are but the rest, questionable.”

He rolls his brown eyes to convey his extremely annoyed state, “They’re nosy assholes, all of them.” Mark shoots his mates a glare that’s meant to be intimidating but it’s far from that off the ice. He looks like an upset little puppy, face crinkled and eyes rounded in the cutest way. You want to pinch his cheeks but you refrain from doing so.

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” Donghyuck smirks from the other side of the table.

From beside him, Yangyang adds, “Yeah, share with the whole class!”

Mark groans— he can’t believe he has to deal with two loudmouths in his team. He looks to the older members: Sicheng is just silently grinning and Ten is wiggling his brows at the captain. The only one’s looking sorry for him are Jeno, the ever-so-sweet one sitting beside his boyfriend, and Sungchan, the shy new addition to the team.

Jaemin, sitting on your right while Mark is squished on your left, laughs, “You’re not talking about being smashed by him, are you?” He’s obviously taking pleasure in your pain. You don’t think they’re ever going to let that go.

You smack him across the arm and he winces at the stinging contact, surprised by your strength. “Oh my god, stop! No one was supposed to hear that!”

“And yet, everybody did,” Yangyang says teasingly, eyes slotted and mouth upturned into a shit-eating grin. You don’t think he should be talking, you’ve seen his struggles with the person in the dinosaur mascot suit but that’s another story.

“Let’s just forget everything about that, please!”

“I, uh, agree,” Mark says, clearing his throat. He smiles nervously at you and you return it with a shy one of your own. God, how can one person be so attractive?

“So cuuuuute,” Donghyuck coos and the other players follow, loving the way their captain cringes at their voices. Not being able to take it anymore, you put your face in your hands as Jaemin joins in on the commotion.

What in the world did you do to deserve this treatment, you wonder as your face heats up in your hold. You’re at the point where yanking your hair out sounds like a better time than dealing with the jokes the boys are throwing your way. You don’t know how much more of this you can take.

You feel Mark shift in his chair. He brings his lips to your ear to ask, “Do you, uh, I don’t know, maybe, wanna get outta here?”

His voice is low, soft, and comes off as a bit timid as he presents the question but it still sets the butterflies free in your stomach. They’re flying around, tickling you in the weirdest way but you don’t mind— it’s been a while since your heart fluttered like this.

Biting back a huge smile, your cheeks make your eyes curl into little slits as you nodded enthusiastically. “Oh my god, yes please,” you answer as you scramble for your belongings.

Mark wastes no time, pushing his metal chair out from under the table before pulling yours out. He grabs his team jacket and slings it over his shoulder before guiding you out the door, his hand gripping tightly onto yours. The group of boys yell at you to come back and you ignore them, too busy reeling at the feeling of Mark’s hand in yours. It’s warm and inviting, the way his fingers wrap around your smaller palm.

The cold autumn breeze hits you as soon as he opens the door and it gets worse when you’re running down the street so one of the boys can’t chase after you. You’ve made it two blocks before you stop running and that’s when Mark finally notices that he’s still holding on tightly to your hand.

“Oh, I, um, sorry,” he mumbles as he rushes to let go. His high cheeks are turning red and it clearly shows how flustered he is.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a giggle.

The wind blows through the holes in your knit sweater and you shiver at the sudden cold. Ugh, why didn’t you think to bring a thicker jacket?

Mark notices and he immediately takes action. “Oh, here,” he says before taking his team jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You quickly try to tell him it’s okay and shrug it off but he insists on you wearing it, a small grin peeking out on his lips. He watches you slip your arms through the blue sleeves and pull your hands out through the orange and white lined ends.

Before you could get to it, the blond hastily zips the jacket up to the very top for you, his knuckles brushing against your chin. It leaves your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, fighting its way to come out. Mark takes a step back to admire the sight of you in his clothes— his last name embroidered on one side rests proudly against your chest and it looks damn good on you.

“T—thanks,” you stutter, not used to being treated this way. The move was so incredibly sweet and you think it’ll live in your mind for the rest of your life, rent free, along with all the other cute things he does.

Mark’s grin widens. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replies, glad he’s not the one stumbling over his words for once. Maybe he’s staring at you in his jacket longer than he needs to but you don’t mind, not when he’s looking at you with shining eyes you want to get lost in.

You don’t though, your little moment being interrupted by the loud growling of your empty stomach. Your eyes become circles and you’re suddenly burning up in his jacket. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you let out an uneasy laugh.

Mark’s bright laughter fills your ears and soon, you’re joining in too, quiet giggles shaking your body.

He clears his throat and scrunches his nose at you. It’s an endearing look, you think, as you save the sight in your memory. “C’mon, let’s go get you some food,” he chuckles, slipping his hand into yours once again.

Mark leads you down the street, a loose grip on your hand, and he hopes you don’t feel how clammy his palms are through your sweater paws. His eyes are darting to anything and everything but you, too scared to look you in the eye. He thinks if he spares one more look at you, he’ll combust.

“You were gonna get some Thai food, right?” Mark asks.

You glance at him and nod in agreement, “Yeah, there’s a place Jaemin and I usually go to. We were just gonna head there.” You tell him where it’s located and it’s a bit of a long walk. He didn’t mind though, he quite enjoyed holding your hand.

You don’t see it but Mark secretly pumps his fist when you initiate the interlocking of your fingers. The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting, you don’t think you ever want to let go.

Peeping over at him, you catch him do the same to you at the exact same time, right down to the second. He blinks at you, eyes widened in shock and another burst of laughter bubbles through you, entertained at how ridiculously shy the both of you were.

Seeing the university’s golden boy as fumbly as you were in this particular moment relaxes a bit of your nerves, though. Many people see the famous Mark Lee as this picture perfect student athlete but during this moment, you just see him as a boy.

You’re just a girl walking time with a boy and you think nothing else could ever beat this moment.

#neowritingsnet #let's break the ice #mark lee #mark scenarios #mark imagines #mark lee x reader #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct imagines #love on the ice #hockey!au #mark fluff #nct crack #🏒

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

Text

Continuing my dissertation on why Supernatural is about Destiel even when Cas is not in the episode, and here is my analysis of 11x18 - The Chitters.

I initially had this episode on a “never watching again” because the monster grossed me out so much, but then I realized that the writers were giving us a literal Dean/Cas as husbands mirror story by doing this

and hiding it in an episode with the most grotesque MOTW imaginable (seriously, name a worse monster than underground creatures who impregnate humans with their eggs via orgy and leave them in a damn cave; oh and cause them to shake, chitter, and have glowy green eyes. BRB, puking).

A little trickster moment in the beginning starting this episode with two brothers, and the eldest - Matt - dying in a *shocker* supernatural way, and the youngest - Jesse - then going on to dedicate his life to avenging his brother’s death. A lot of reviewers consider this intro to mean we are supposed to be looking for Sam/Dean parallels in the following narrative bEcAusE tHAt is WhAT thE boYS wOuLD dO, but I POSIT TO YOU IT IS NOT ONLY A 10000000 percent DESTIEL STORY, BUT ALSO THAT this is established in the very first scene - the conversation between Jesse and Matt in the flashback:

JESSE

It finally happened.

MATT

What? You didn’t get detention this week?

JESSE

Me and Jackie, we kissed.

MATT:

Okay, can I stop hearing about him every two minutes now? “You think he likes me?”, “Jackie looked at me. I-I think he looked at me.”

JESSE

He definitely likes me.

***I mean Matt’s comment - does this not immediately remind you of Sam “I am in constant Destiel super hell” Winchester?

For reference, here is Sam’s “I am in super hell please stop now” face:

**Also he LOOKED AT HIM?! What is 80% of Destiel if not subtextual pining and LOOKING. I don’t make the rules. Jesse is Dean. And Matt is dead. Matt’s death ENDS the “brother portion” of this story insofar as the parallel is concerned. (**please note I am not advocating for Sam to die. the parallel is just NOT about the brother storyline in this episode - there are plenty of other “mirrors” for the brother storyline, but this is NOT one of them).

We cut to the real Dean continuing in FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED because Amara has Cas at this point and he is panicking.

Was the red and black flannel an intentional wardrobe choice to mirror Jesse’s jacket? We will never know. (Yes. Everything is intentional. This is Supernatural. We hate it here. Also Cesar is in a KHAKI vest because KHAKI means THINGS in Supernatural for REASONS).

Also I love FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED desperately trying to get Cas back Dean. It’s real “I just started studying for my final the night before at 10 p.m.” energy. He’s refusing to stop to even look at Sam here:

Anyway, a few gross scenes of green eyed people, orgies, and a hilarious conversation about weed (or was it oregano?-

Jensen Ackles you slay me) later -

Jesse and Cesar save Dean’s bacon and the four of them end up in a bar chatting over beers. Here is where it is INCREDIBLY apparent that Jesse is a mirror for Dean (also I’d watch a bottle episode of these four hanging out doing regular every day stuff a la How I Met Your Mother or Friends).

JESSE

One of them took my brother 27 years ago.

[Sam and Dean look surprised. Sam turns to Dean, and Dean is speechless.

DEAN

[looks to Jesse] I’m sorry to hear that.

JESSE

I’ve been waiting years to come back and have this shot at them. So, I hope you understand, I’m gonna ask you two to take a step back from this one.

DEAN

[nods] Well, catch us up. Where have you guys been?

JESSE

In the woods, where the action is, looking for their burrow and saving your ass.

[Sam is slightly taken aback, but he gives a look of approval. Cesar scoffs.]

JESSE

What?

CESAR

Well, one of the reasons we’ve been holed up in the trees is because Jesse hates the town and everyone in it.

JESSE

Because they’re ignorant and useless. [turns to Cesar] They didn’t believe me 27 years ago, they’re not gonna start now.

CESAR

[sternly] It’s boneheaded not to be following leads in town.

JESSE

Hey, nobody stopping you from talking to the whole box of crackers.

[Cesar sighs and looks away.]

***You could replace “Jesse” with “Dean” and the lines wouldn’t need to change an iota to stay in the character. Cesar’s scoffing, the stern response, calling Jesse boneheaded, sighing, looking away exasperatedly - 100% Cas energy. I really don’t make the rules. Cesar isn’t anything like Sam, and he isn’t meant to be. This is not a brother story. THIS IS A STORY ABOUT TRUE LOVE DAMMIT.

Dean makes that red herring comment about them bickering just like brothers , then:

Which by the way is EXACTLY how Dean and Cas bicker. Hence why Sam is always in super hell.

I can’t find a better quality image of this montage, but I really wanted to bring attention to the EXPRESSION on Dean’s face:

***Sure, Dean. You’re curious about what it’s like to live with a hunter. Okay.

Also, whoever made this, you get it.

They start arguing on the next step - questioning a former sheriff, or going back to the woods to search for the creepy crawlies’ hidey hole.

JESSE

[sternly] We need to find the burrow.

CESAR

[patiently] Jess, we’ve been beating around the woods for two days.

JESSE

[stubbornly] That’s where they are. You saw the tracks.

CESAR

I can keep searching on my own. We’re losing.

****sternly-patiently-stubbornly <- it’s like a never-ending Destiel refrain. Cesar’s willingness to continue on what is purely Jesse’s quest for revenge so Jesse can move on is also so very Cas-adjacent. I LOVE A SUBTEXTUAL PARALLEL.

Anyway, then they split into twos, pairing Sam with Jesse and Cesar with Dean for the next few scenes. Lots of reviewers tracked this as a brother-brother (i.e. Sam is paired with the version of himself and Dean is paired with the version of himself) parallel, but THIS scene with Sam, Jesse, and the old sheriff SCREAMS otherwise:

JESSE

[angrily pushed Cochran down the chair] You son of a bitch.

[Sam moves forward to get Jesse back.]

JESSE

You knew the whole time! You knew where they were when everybody was suffering.

COCHRAN

[pushes Jesse off him] I was suffering too!

SAM

[pulls Jesse away from Cochran and tries to calm him down] Jesse. Hey, hey. Hold on. Hold on.

***EXCUSE ME, did he just say DEAN’S CATCHPHRASE. And how many times has Sam done this exact thing to Dean when he is in a rage?!? I DO NOT MAKE THE RULES.

ALSO something about THE JUXTAPOSITION of Cesar and Jesse in the following scene. This is very Dean with Cas quietly waiting for him to me.

A lot of creepy monster montage scenes and dead bodies later, the day is saved. Cue adorable husband exchange, and the news that Jesse and Cesar are going to retire.

SAM

So, uh, what’s freedom look like?

JESSE

Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice?

CESAR

Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT.

JESSE

Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass?

[Cesar chuckles and looks at Jesse lovingly, before both men turns to the Winchesters. Sam follows the laugh.]

CESAR

It’s time to start living.

Also this SHOULDER touch. And it’s the left shoulder. (there is a great Casifer post out there about how Dean was thrown off specifically because Casifer touched his RIGHT shoulder, and Cas always touches his LEFT).

All I really need now is a FACE CUP, tbh.

You want more parallels? Recall that CESAR (aka Cas-adjacent) is the one who saves Dean’s bacon in the beginning.

Then he helps him get up off the ground. You know, as in he RAISES him from -

(JENSEN YOUR ACTING CHOICES WITH THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE ILYSM)

Dean, realizing that he is watching an AU version of himself and his boyfriend/future husband:

Yes, hi, we are the same character.

Anyway, I will always and forever love this episode for showing us the ending Dean and Cas deserved (WHAT WAS THE REASONNNN) - settling down on a small ranch together in New Mexico. At least these two got their happily ever after.

ALSO, MANIFESTING

Maybe then Sam can finally leave super hell.

BONUS:

Sam: Couldn’t do it, huh?

Dean: [shakes head] No, didn’t feel right.

Sam: Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line?

Dean: Yeah, you leave that alone.

Saving this to my box of INCONSISTENCY TRASH DUMP FOR 15x20.

P.S. I am starting to develop a theory that the episodes we all like LEAST, and therefore tend to skip [or that have off putting plotlines/ don’t go with the general myth arc/creepy monsters/bizarre or even boring scenarios] are the ones with potentially the most subtext, and therefore the best underlying story line (so likely no Cas in the episode, random stuff like Red Meat, the creepy chitters monster that makes you want to cringe).

So at the end of the day, the subtext was always the real story anyway.

(OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THAT THE GIRL WEREWOLF IN BLOODLINES WEARS A FUCKING KHAKI TRENCH COAT THE ENTIRE TIME. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO REWATCH THE ALWAYS SKIPPABLE BLOODLINES NOW? And that definitely means I am DOOMED to rewatch the worst episode that ever was when I get to season 15. Dammit. What have I done?!?!??!?!)

#destiel #spn analysis #spn fandom #destiel parallels #spn mirrors #destiel mirrors #deancas #supernatural #spn recap #spn seson 11 #spn 11x19

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satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ some kind of disaster

⍣ all time low series | previous | next | 2/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary: tendo knows he is, he was just waiting for you to figure it out

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: angst, breakups, akaashi being a good friend, semi being (maybeb too much of) an asshole

⇢ word count: 3496

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: 1) this is unedited. 2) i have a serious complex about this whole series now due to how well monster did, so i’m sorry if anyone is disappointed by this chapter.

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

They say falling in love is easy, it’s falling out of love that’s hard. What they fail to mention is how hard it is to still be in love even when you know it isn’t what’s best for you.

And right then, Tendo wasn’t good for you.

It had been several months since that first night and, though you had known it wouldn’t be easy, you had never expected it to be like it was. He had more issues than you could have imagined and a staunch refusal to talk about them. You had your guesses about why which you tried to understand, but the way he handled any small argument or misunderstanding in your relationship was unbearable and unhealthy.

Even now, he wasn’t speaking to you and it was tearing you apart. You weren’t even aware of what you had done because he wouldn’t tell you and you couldn’t for the life of you recall having done anything specific.

“Are you gonna do it today?” Akaashi asked, his words soft, full of understanding. The classical literature class you shared with him was over, and he hovered beside your chair waiting for you to gather your thoughts and your items up. He knew most of what had been happening with Tendo and sympathized because he also knew how enamored you had become with him. It was understandable-- you had been dating for a while, but he had seen a slow decline in your mood over the last few months. After the honeymoon period was over, he would guess, and the little issues that always crop up in relationships started to manifest.

He recalled the night two weeks ago when you had come to him asking for advice, and it all poured out over takeout and wine. Even Bokuto, who always saw the bright side of things, remained in silent shock at everything happening behind the scenes.

You said he was never violent or angry or irrational. He would just...ignore you for hours or days on end, sometimes for things you couldn’t even determine, then come back like nothing had happened. If you did have an argument, no matter how small, he would just walk away without even trying to come to an agreement, then refuse to speak to you like normal until he decided he was done with that.

Akaashi’s heart broke for you as you sobbed into first your hands and then Bokuto’s shoulder, though he couldn’t refrain from smiling at Bokuto’s sympathy tears. His partner really was too cute for words.

Then you had spoken the dreaded words he was sure had been sitting in your throat for a lot longer than it had taken you to come to him.

“I think I’m going to break up with him.”

The relief that drew across your face as you said that was evident that you weren’t thinking about it, that you just needed support to go through with it. Of course, he and Bokuto were more than willing to give you that.

“I think so,” you murmured, taking your time packing up your stuff. The text you had sent at the beginning of class went unanswered, but marked that it was read two minutes after you sent it.

We need to talk.

It was too obvious what that meant and you were dreading the confrontation to come. You weren’t worried about him getting aggressive. In fact, you were pretty sure you knew how this was going to go down. Like every other argument, he was going to pretend it wasn’t happening and walk away.

The door was too loud when it opened, the students out in the hall too happy when Akaashi opened it. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Tendo standing across from the door staring out the window with a pensive expression. Then it clenched with all the emotions you were feeling, good and bad and your head spun with anxiety. He looked so sad, his usually vibrant red eyes dull and blank as he watched whatever was going on in the quad.

“I’ll wait for you, okay?” Akaashi asked. You nodded absently, eyes still locked on Tendo. For most people, he would be afraid they were going to renege on their resolve and give into the false promises of change. But the change he had witnessed in you over the last few months and the quiet sadness in your softly spoken words a couple of weeks back had given him a different feeling. You would go through with it, and it was going to shatter you.

Tendo still didn’t look at you when you called his name and, if you had been wavering at all, that shut it down. But he followed you anyway, until you found a secluded spot down an empty hallway.

You took a deep, stuttery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, and his voice was icy. He didn’t even seem to care about the tears starting to fall or the way you swiped them away. But it pierced his heart, knowing it was him that caused them, and he knew what was coming. He had known it would end this way the moment he fell for you. He had ended up hurting you just as he’d said he would, and yet he’d let it get this far anyway.

“I’m sorry for whatever it is I did this time. And I’m sorry, but-- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you whispered, drawing him back to the present.

Silence followed those words. You still weren’t looking at him, so you missed the widening of those sleepy vermillion eyes you’d so come to love and the hands that caressed you so gently curling into fists at his sides.

He knew it, but couldn’t stop the surprise, even as the first crack appeared in his heart. “I-- What?”

It was so hard. Without meaning to, you had fallen in love with him, flaws and baggage and all. You should’ve known better. You had known it wouldn’t be easy to love him but it...it was so much harder than you had been expecting. Too much of your time was spent wondering what you had done to upset him this time and why he was ignoring you, because Tendo didn’t talk about his feelings with you. He left them on a back burner on high until they were so burnt they were unrecognizable, and when he was done being pouty he would seek you out and act like nothing was wrong.

There was no communication in your relationship-- if you could even call it that at this point. You couldn’t find a point to being together if every other day you had done something new to drive him away. It was taxing on you, your mental health plummeting because you were constantly worried about if something was wrong with you. It wasn’t until one of your other friends pointed out how different you were that you turned inward and discovered that particular truth.

You were struggling to keep it together by then, the pain in your heart and the tightness in your throat threatening to overwhelm you. You still hadn’t looked at Tendo. It was too hard-- you would never be able to get the words out if he was staring at you with hurt and confusion.

Taking a steadying breath, you said, “I can’t fix you, Tendo. This-- This thing we have isn’t healthy, it’s-- we spend more time f-fighting than we do-- or you spend more time ignoring* me for things I-- I don’t even know why half the time and I’m constantly wondering what I’ve done--”

You stopped.

Your thoughts were racing in time with the throbbing pain in your chest and your voice had risen into a high-pitched, breathless mess and you couldn’t think. Breathing in deep, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall as they may just to give you some relief from the pressure in your throat and once again you missed the look of fear on Tendo’s face.

He’d seen it coming. He had been expecting it for weeks, but didn’t know he would still be blindsided by it. It was his own fault, expecting you to chase after him and deal with his bullshit on your own. He knew it wasn’t fair, but every time he considered the alternative, he clammed up. Still, he wanted to reach out, to comfort you and tell you he would change, but he knew it wasn’t true.

His problems were deep rooted and it wasn’t his partner’s job to put him back together-- even he knew that.

So his nails continued to bite into his palms at his side as he let you spill every pent up emotion, just waiting for the final door to slam in his face.

“But it isn’t me,” you whispered, so quiet he almost missed it. At long last, you lifted your head up and met his eyes. Those beautiful red eyes that you often found yourself lost in were bright and clear and dead, not a trace of emotion anywhere in them. Like he didn't care, and that only made you cry harder. “I know it’s you and I can’t do it anymore. Everything you do makes me-- I’m not the problem, Tendo.” He flinched at the use of his surname and you ignored it. “I love you, you know that? I don’t know when or how, but I do know why. But I also know we aren’t healthy and this relationship is-- it isn’t a relationship. It just isn’t. I don’t know what it is but I--”

He swallowed as your shoulders fell. The words he wanted to say bubbled on his tongue and he bit them back. Hearing you say them now was a cruelty he knew he deserved after the way he’d been treating you, but he still wanted to lash out and break you like you had broken him. But as a last kindness for what you had given him, he only turned and walked away.

The silence that remained spoke volumes like the space that had developed between you, and you left as well, leaving everything behind.

Akaashi was waiting for you just around the corner from the hall, watching Tendo shove through the crowd and out of sight. His hand was warm against your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears. For now, they had stopped, but he knew more would come.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, in some regards. The weight of your feelings for him still remained, and you knew they would take some time to slide off as well. Akaashi was watching you with kind sympathy, his quiet company a relief as you looped your arm with his, letting him lead you out into the warm spring air. It seemed almost cruel that the weather was so nice when you were so miserable, and a few more tears spilled.

Guilt accompanied every breath that you felt so light following your breakup, but you knew it was for the best. Nothing good would come of remaining with Tendo when he was so mixed up-- you couldn’t make him happy if he couldn’t make himself happy, and vice versa.

Bokuto’s voice rang loud over the sound of the rest of the crowd, waving his hand above his head at the pair of you.

“Shall we go get something to eat? And it’s Friday, you can stay with us, if you’d like,” Akaashi said, his voice soothing and melodic to your ringing ears. Suddenly you were more than grateful to have him and Bokuto in your life-- even if the latter was a bit obnoxious.

Like now, he was literally tugging you and Akaashi along behind him, talking nonstop about food, not listening to a word Akaashi was saying. But when you looked over to your friend, he didn’t look aggravated. He looked content and amused, staring at his partner with a soft fondness that made you almost jealous as you thought about when Tendou would look at you that same way.

There was a sharp pang in your heart as you realized he probably wouldn’t look twice at you again. Because that’s just how Tendou was. He ignored his problems and waited until they just went away. And you needed more than that.

i crashed down from a high that felt so real i never knew how much it would hurt to feel you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal you gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want

“You’re a fool, you know that?” Semi said. Though it was posed as a question, Tendo knew perfectly well that Semi was telling him what he already knew. As soon as Tendo had shown up in front of him, Semi had snapped that and he could only nod in agreement. “I always knew you’d do this. _____ was perfect for you but you--”

“I know, alright,” Tendou snapped, curling his fists into hands. It was almost impossible for him to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall since he’d first gotten your text an hour and a half ago. Like the coward he was, he had ignored it and met you outside your class instead, a part of him hoping it would just go away if you saw him. But the hopelessness in your eyes when you had looked at him told him he wouldn’t get his wish this time. “I know I’m a fucking idiot, and _____ was always too good for me.”

A flash of your face and the echo of your words replayed in his addled brain.

“I don’t know what I’ve done this time.”

You hadn’t done anything. You had never done anything. He was a coward when it came to arguments but when he was ignoring you it wasn’t because of you.

It was him, all his fears bubbling to the surface and an attempt to push you away, to make you realize you were worth more than whatever he had to offer.

“Whatever we have is unhealthy.”

“It isn’t even a relationship.”

He was unhealthy, he knew he was, and it had driven you away from him. He only had himself to blame.

Semi huffed, watching Tendo closely. He was doing that blank thing he did to mask his feelings when he couldn’t handle them, turning into himself instead of applying the burden to someone else. He was sure he was doing it to you in your relationship too, and you probably didn’t understand because Tendo wasn’t being open. It was a vicious cycle, one Semi had seen too often. “I’m glad you realize, you idiot.” Then, more softly, he said, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I know you love her.”

Tendo flinched, his eyes closing.

*“I love you, you know that?”*

He would have said them back in a heartbeat, given the opportunity. He wanted so desperately to say them but the words had stuck in his throat, and the less selfish part of him knew it was for the best. The situation was already fucked up enough without him stirring it up more. Saying those words back would have hurt more than helped, especially because, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t change.

At least he could say he had done something right, in letting you go.

You would flourish without him holding you back and weighing you down with all his problems and baggage.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Semi’s voice cut through Tendo’s derogatory thoughts, and he flinched again. He hated that smug, all knowing tone even though he was usually spot on.

“Alright then, oh great oracle. What am I thinking?” he asked, shuffling along down the sidewalk towards their apartment. Trying to think of anything besides you, he tried to remember what was in their fridge to eat. Old pizza is all he could think of, from when you had come over and--

Nope.

Semi snorted at Tendo’s sad attempt at humor. Not that all of his attempts weren’t sad but his heart really wasn’t in it this time. “You’re telling yourself it was for the best and how you aren’t good enough and blah blah blah. You’re still an idiot.”

“Would you stop saying that?” Tendo asked, looking up to the sky. It was still early afternoon, the sky cloudless, the air pleasantly warm. If circumstances were different he would be spending it with you by his side-- then again, probably not. He hadn’t properly spoken to you or seen you in a few days and it wasn’t going to change today either. “My ears hurt.”

And his heart. He could feel a slow throbbing building up between his ears. A migraine was the final nail he deserved in his coffin and the sadistic part of him wanted to exacerbate it as much as he could. Just to give himself something else to focus on.

“Fine, fine. Just one more time. You’re a goddamn idiot,” Semi said, glaring at him. He knew he should feel worse for his friend than he was, but he also deserved it. There was only so much sympathy he could give when Tendo refused to help himself. He had never been happier than when he started dating you and Semi couldn’t go ten minutes without hearing your name. Now Tendo was slumped over as they walked, feet shuffling against the sidewalk as he stared blankly ahead, and Semi sighed. “Can I give you some advice? You know, friend to idiot?”

Tendo groaned, rolling his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. Semi meant well-- mostly-- and usually gave good advice. Now, if only he would stop trying to make Tendo feel worse. “Sure, I guess. We both know I won’t listen though.”

Semi nodded, snickering behind his hand. The signal for the crosswalk changed, throngs of people instantly flooding the street. They flowed through and around each other, becoming separated for a few moments, until they met on the sidewalk on the other side.

“When you two are together, were together, I’ve never seen you happier. And Akaashi says that _____ is-- was-- too. Do you not trust her?” Semi asked, and watched the way Tendo froze up and paled, inhaling sharply. But he didn’t immediately say no, and that was telling. “If you don’t trust her, you’ll never maintain a relationship, with her or anyone else. Do you really want that, ‘Tori?”

He hadn’t considered that. Not trusting you wasn’t the exact issue. He felt he could tell you anything-- so long as anything didn’t entail things that might annoy you or make him a burden on you. His biggest fear was putting too much of himself into you only to overwhelm you, driving you away. That had backfired pretty spectacularly though, if he had to say so, and now he was left to wonder what would have happened if he had gone that route.

“No, I guess not,” he answered. To anyone else it would have sounded callous and uncaring, but Semi had known him a lot longer and recognized the sound of a Tendo who was in serious thought.

“Then you need to change. I get that you’re afraid, but those bullies from elementary and highschool shouldn’t keep holding you back. And who knows, maybe it isn’t too late with _____,” Semi said with a shrug, and smirked at the way Tendo perked up at that. He deflated just as rapidly a split second later, but it was to be expected.

The smirk fell as Semi considered. The way things stood, you were better off because Tendo was unhealthy, and probably not in a good place to be in a relationship. He didn’t fault you for breaking it off-- not when he would have done the same. Still, he’d like to see him happy again, especially with you. But he couldn’t guess if Tendo would take it to heart and try, or whether or not you would wait around for him to decide and figure himself out.

Shrugging, he glanced at the barbecue place they were passing by and reached out, tugging Tendo to a stop. When he nodded towards it, Tendou sighed.

“Sure, I’m down. Shouldn’t be sad on an empty stomach.”

Semi groaned. “You are such an idiot.”

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @sluttony, @visaintes, @yunhosblackgf, @super-noya, @byebyes-world, @newfriendjen, @atsunakaashi

#tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #satori tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #.somekindofdisaster

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bonnyskies · 3 years

Text

come back to me [twelve] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.4k

masterlist

The tension between you and Jungkook was thick.

As you held the hotel room’s door open, you could barely meet his eyes as he carried Minho, who was in a deep slumber inside. Not a single word was shared between the two of you ever since leaving the restaurant.

Neither of you knew what to say to the other.

You continued watch him carrying your son to one of the rooms, hearing his distant voice say “I’m going go put him to bed.”

You only nodded your head, your eyes following his back until he disappeared into your room. When he was out of sight, you went into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of champagne Jungkook showed you earlier. You didn’t even bother grabbing a glass, instead you just removed the cap and took a fairly large gulp.

The sweet taste of the bubbly liquid on your tongue and feeling of it going down your throat gave you instant relief and comfort.

Dinner did not go as you thought it would.

Fucking Jiyoo, your mind cursed while taking another gulp of the champagne. She was the reason you couldn’t—didn’t tell everyone about your divorce tonight. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of being right about you and Jungkook all along.

That you two wouldn’t last.

“Care to share?” You jumped when noticing Jungkook leaning against the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed over his chest and eyes trained on you. You didn’t say anything to him, only handed him the bottle.

“Tonight was a mess, huh?” Jungkook asks before taking the bottle out of your hand and engulfing nearly half the bottle down his throat. You could only nod in reply.

Guilt was running through your veins right now. Tonight was suppose to be the night where the lies finally stop—at least, that’s what you told Jungkook before leaving the hotel. But at the end, you two were still stuck in the web of lies. All because of that stupid pride monster that constantly hangs on your shoulder whenever Jiyoo appears.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that came out of your mouth ever since leaving restaurant, your eyes staring into Jungkook’s as he lowered the bottle onto the counter. “ I was suppose to come clean about everything tonight, but I didn’t and I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize, {Name}.” Jungkook cuts you off before you could finish. “I know how much Jiyoo angers you. Trust me, she infuriates me too. Remember our wedding night?”

Your heart flutter and clenched in unison. “Yes.”

“Care to dance, my handsome husband?”

You stared at Jungkook’s hand and took it without hesitation, smiling brightly as he dragged you two to the dance floor where many of your family members and friends were already at.

When you two reached the center of the floor, Jungkook’s hands found themselves on your waist while yours were on his broad shoulders. The two of you swayed with to the beat of the classical music, chests pressed against each other.

With your head resting on Jungkook’s chest and his cheek on top of your head, you felt at ease. It almost felt like you two were the only ones in the reception hall, no one else.

“I can’t believe I get to finally call you my husband,” you could hear Jungkook whisper into your hair before pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“Me neither,” you smiled in his chest, tightening your grip around him as you both continued to sway to the calming music, you occasionally leaning up to press small kisses along Jungkook’s jawline or neck, or him leaning down to capture your lips with his.

It was almost peaceful. You dancing along with Jungkook—your husband, while friends and family members danced alongside you. Again, it almost peaceful. That was until you heard a very familiar screechy voice, tearing you away from the peace.

Pulling your head away from Jungkook’s chest, both of your eyes fell upon none other than Jiyoo pushing her way through the crowd on the dance floor just to approach you two. “Hey, {Name}! Sorry that I’m late—”

“Jiyoo, what are you doing here?” You cut her off, briefly glancing at Jungkook who shared the same confused expression as you.

“It’s your wedding day, silly. You didn’t think I would miss it, did you?”

“But you didn’t RSVP,” you pointed out, hands tightening around Jungkook’s as you began to feel your frustration grow inside.

“Really?” Jiyoo raised a brow, tapping her fingers against her chin and humming softly. “Are you sure? I swear I did—”

“You didn’t,” you interrupted her again, practically seething.

“Well, I’m here. And you aren’t going to kick out your favorite cousin, are you?” You almost scoffed at her comment.

Jungkook could feel the anger radiating from you. So before you had the chance to mentally implode, he spoke up for you. “Listen, Jiyoo, there aren’t any available spots left for you at any of the tables. We only bought enough for the people that RSVP’d.”

“Oh don’t worry about me,” she laughed while shaking her head, which just made you even more annoyed. “I’ll just pull a chair up somewhere, or stand in the back. You won’t even know that I’m here.”

You rolled your eyes the same time Jungkook spoke up, “Alright, fine. Just don’t start anything okay?”

Jiyoo just nodded before leaving you two.

“I don’t understand why we didn’t just throw her out,” you pouted, turning to face Jungkook with your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s her fault for not RSVPing.”

Jungkook chuckled at the sight. “Because if we tried to kick her out, then she would’ve caused a scene.”

He was right. Jiyoo always been a dramatic person, and if you did try to force her out then she most likely would’ve started crying or something else to get everyone’s attention.

You didn’t say anything, only shoved your face back into Jungkook’s chest and wrapped your arms around him.

“This is our our day.” Jungkook whispered into your hair, hands finding their way back on your waist. “And we shouldn’t let her ruin our day. Let’s just focus on us, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, leaning your head up to quickly peck his lips.

The two of you began to dance again, and slowly you could feel the peacefulness come back again.

But of course, it didn’t last long...

Not even half an hour later, when you and Jungkook were both back at your table eating, Aerum came up to you two with an annoyed expression on her face. “Who the hell let the she-devil in here?”

“She just showed up,” you answered, turning to see Jungkook having the same confused expression as you. “Why, what is she doing?”

“Well for one, she’s drunk.” Aerum started, annoyance clear in her voice and face. “And she’s telling everyone that she’s shocked you two made it this far, and that she doesn’t see your marriage lasting.”

“Are you kidding me?” You gaped, eyes wide. “I’m going to talk to her right now—”

Jungkook tried to stop you, but he was too late because you were already up from your seat and marching away.

It didn’t take long for you to find Jiyoo. You found her at the bar, talking to some of your other cousins. You were about to approach her but chose to stop yourself instead, wanting to listen to what she has to say about you. And if you weren’t furious before, you definitely were now.

“I don’t really see them lasting, you know.” You froze, your hands clenching into fists. “They rushed into everything, and couples who do that never really last.”

“Well they both seem to really love each other,” one of your cousins attempted to defend you.

“Oh please,” Jiyoo scoffed. “They might act like they do now, but give it about a year. Next thing we’ll hear is Jungkook divorcing {Name}.”

“What about the other way around? What if {Name} is the one that divorces Jungkook?”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Jiyoo chuckled, shaking her head. “Jungkook is it for {Name}, that boy can’t upgrade anymore from that. But Jungkook for that matter, he can do way better than {Name}. He could date anyone, another idol, a model, actor but he settled on an assistant to some no-named company—”

The sound of you clearing your throat made Jiyoo freeze and eyes widen. “Oh, {Name}. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your husband?”

You simply shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “No, he’s busy eating right now. But I do want to know why your talking shit about me on my wedding day.”

The two other cousins that Jiyoo were talking to shared a glance before walking away, leaving you and Jiyoo alone.

“Why the fuck are you telling people that you don’t see me and Jungkook’s marriage lasting—on my wedding day!” You nearly shouted at her but refrained yourself, not wanting to get everyone’s attention. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you? I allow you to stay here even though you didn’t let me know ahead of time, and you still have the audacity to talk shit about me?”

“Listen {Name},” Jiyoo placed her hand on your shoulder, which just made you jerk away. “I’m not trying to offend you or anything, it’s just that your relationship with Jungkook still confuses me, that’s all—”

“We’ve been dating for more than two years.” You snapped, eyes flaring. “Why are you still acting like this? And how does my relationship with Jungkook affect you at all?”

When Jiyoo remained silent, you continued. “I’m sick and tired of you always bringing me and Jungkook’s relationships down. Seriously, don’t you have anything better to do than to constantly comment on my love life?”

Jiyoo continued to not say anything back. “I’m going to go back to my husband, you know, the one I have been dating for more than two years now and just married not even an hour ago. If you’re going to just continue talking shit about me and my relationship, then just save me the trouble and leave so that I won’t have to call security, okay?”

Before you had the chance to turn away, Jiyoo finally decided to speak up and her question caused you to freeze. “Do you see Jungkook and you lasting?”

You didn’t hesitate before answering her, “Yes.”

“Just because all of your past relationships didn’t worked out, doesn’t mean mine won’t,” you then added.

This time you didn’t wait for her to reply. Turning around, you left her and went back to your table with your hands clenched into fists and heart beating roughly inside of your chest out of complete rage and frustration.

You and Jungkook were going to last—at least, that’s what you thought.

Oh, how wrong you were.

“I was so close to ripping her head off that day.”

Jungkook chuckled, taking another drink from the bottle of champagne. “I don’t blame you.”

“It just sucks that she was right, though.” Those words came out of your mouth faster than your mind could comprehend it, and with your eyes focused on your fidgeting fingers you didn’t notice the guilt expression flashing on Jungkook’s face and his body tensing.

“Y-Yeah,” Jungkook could only stutter out, swallowing the lump building up in his throat. An awkward silence then filled the room before he spoke up again, breaking it. “Do you want to take a shower first?”

“No, you can.” You answered simply, earning a small nod from him before leaving.

Once you were alone you let out a loud sigh. And then you decided to go your room and wait for Jungkook to finish showering, wanting to rest and forget about the conversation you just had with him.

But before you could even leave the kitchen, the sound of someone knocking caused you to freeze. It was half past midnight, you weren’t expecting someone to come over—and you definitely didn’t expect to find your mother standing in your hotel room’s doorway.

“Eomma,” you stared at your mother with wide eyes. “What are you doing here this late?”

Your mother stepped in with a grin, “Oh, I’m here to let you know that I’ll be taking Minho off your hands tomorrow so that you and Jungkook can have the day to yourselves.”

“W-What?” You gaped, and with your eyes already wide it felt like they were about to burst from your head. “B-But tomorrow is your birthday—literally, and I want to spend the day with you.”

Your mother chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, don’t worry about it honey. Just spending time with my favorite sonja is enough. You and Jungkook deserve some time alone.”

You could feel your heart beating anxiously. “But we came on this trip for your birthday—”

“Nonsense,” your mother cut you off, waving her hand dismissingly. “I know with your busy schedules you two haven’t had much time for each other, so this trip is a perfect opportunity for some alone time.”

“And you two might even find a way to spice up your marriage,” she then adds with a teasing smirk on her lips and nudges your side.

Your heart sunk into your stomach. “B-But—”

“Hey, have you seen my phone—” You two whipped your heads towards hallway where Jungkook stood, eyes wide when they landed on your mother. “Oh, eomeoni. What are you doing here?”

“I was just telling {Name} that I’ll be taking Minho off your guys’ hands tomorrow so that you two can have the day for yourselves.”

Jungkook’s widened eyes glanced towards you. “O-Oh, really? That’s g-great, right honey?”

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything back another voice was heard—this one being much softer and slightly high pitched. “Appa!”

“Minho woke up,” you sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

Once Jungkook and your mother were alone, she spoke up. “Well, I’m going to head out and let you three get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow.”

Jungkook could only let out an anxious laugh, attempting to conceal the nervousness he was currently feeling.

Jungkook thought there wasn’t anything that could make the anxiety he was feeling worse—he was wrong. The next words that came out of your mother’s mouth just as she was about to leave made his blood instantly turn cold and skin pale.

“You better not screw this up.”

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx, @yoongis-soulmate, @jikookvfans, @heartfeltscribblings, @chrissfuk, @blazedprince, @btsfaris, @sonderkook, @angel-moni, @http-je0n, @magic-fox-555, @moonfairyjoon, @taozibun1, @ephemeralkookie, @thesquiglybumblebee, @httpjazel, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @dreamer95, @singabon-roll, @its-your-dreamworld, @fancykoos, @galaxyeyedjungkook, @nlnkm, @you-need-namjesus, @teuteusstuff, @moon-asia, @julia-pacheco-blog, @0minabean0, @pjmislovely, @polly-wifu, @jinsonaz

#bonnyskies #bts #bts angst #bts series #bts x reader #bts x male reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook series #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook series #jungkook x reader #jungkook x male reader #bts au #jeon jungkook au #jungkook au

232 notes · View notes

harryspet · 4 years

Text

dimensions | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark peter x reader, historical au, royal au, prince Peter, mentions of noncon sex, physical abuse, spanking, alternate dimensions, fluff, hella angst, alternate peter is basically ramsay bolton

A/N: This is an angsty idea from an anon “Angst thought: Peter's got a girlfriend he super likes but she gets switched with an alternate dimension's version of her who alternate him was the worst to (like one of your dark Peter fics bad) and she's terrified of Peter now”. I decided to make this like a historical au but it can basically take place at anytime in history.

THIS CONTAINS TRIGGERING MATERIAL AND ADULT CONTENT

main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Wine dripped from his lips as Peter stared at you like a hungry wolf. What a beautiful prey you were. He was so lucky that he had decided not to kill you like the rest of your family.

The kingdom you came from was made of sunlight. Sun dripped from the sun and kissed the skin of your people. You were a peaceful people. You had never seen war until you came to know Lord Parker.

In Lord Parker’s part of the world, there was no sun at all. His fortress sat on a hill between a dark forest and a storm-ridden sea. His followers were loyal but this was because the family ruled with fear. They conquered and pillaged for power and your kingdom was just another line on his roster.

You were nothing to him. Nothing except a toy.

You scrambled backward, your back hitting the headboard of the bed you shared with him. Peter’s eyes trailed over the bare skin of your legs and up to the white nightgown you wore. He loved you in white, the contrast to your skin, and the innocence it represented.

No matter how he tried to beat it out of you, that innocence was still there.

Peter pulled the sheets all the way back and your body began to tremble, “My sweeting,” His words were kind but his intentions were anything but. He had his claws around your heart and you felt any wrong move would lead to him ripping it from your chest, “I recall informing you that you should refrain from speaking to my servants.”

Nothing. There were no words on your lips.

Had Peter already diminished your fire? He thought he had mastered the art of pushing you all the way to the edge but not allowing you to fall over.

The room was filled with grays and black, the only light in the room came from a few candles in the corner. You could hear the waves beating against the cliffs from outside the window. You let the cold hit your skin, allowing you to feel something other than sadness.

Peter’s hands touched the mattress as his body leaned in closer, “You want to run from me, do you not?” You were frozen now. He cocked his head to the side, an evil grin decorating his handsome face, “That is why you asked your guard to help you escape. You thought he might take pity on you? Do you think the honey between your legs is that sweet? That any man would risk their lives just to taste it?”

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Why had you done that? You should’ve known not to trust anyone. Anyone including those with sweet, forgiving eyes.

Peter sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the large mattress. You recalled the memories of the last few nights. On your wedding night, he had forced himself inside of you with a force you couldn’t bear. You still ached between your legs.

“I do try to be good to you. I try to be a good husband but … it seems the Gods have cursed me with anger …and your behavior lights that flame inside of me. Is it so much to ask that you be honest with me? To tell me what I hear is not true?”

Nothing. Again, no words escaped your trembling lip. Peter was starting to grow annoyed. He liked it better when you were screaming.

“Answer me!” He screamed, causing you to hit your head against the wood as you flinched back, “You dare run behind my back!” Peter pounced, unable to resist the sweet touch of your trembling flesh. You resisted, but that only made the member in his trousers grow even more excited.

Peter dragged you by the curls in your hair, forcing you to scramble forward until you were positioned across his lap.

“My lord, please! Please, don’t!”

Peter smiled wide as he held you down, his elbow pressing into your back. “There she is! I knew my sweet princess was a fighter,” He pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing your bare bottom. He could still see the evidence he left behind hours ago dripping down your thighs, “Continue to scream for me, my sweeting. I do enjoy your voice.”

You cried out, trying to wiggle from his grasp, as he landed several hard spanks to your bottom. You could feel it turning colors beneath his touch, the burning pain flowed through your body, “Please, please, I won’t do it again!” You begged, “I’ll be good!”

He didn’t stop until your bottom was raw and his own hand was bleeding. Tears streamed down your tired face, a complete look of defeat crossed your features, and ultimately satisfied Peter.

“What is your name?”

You didn’t even remember anymore, “Nothing. N-No one. I am nothing but yours, My Lord.”

He dragged you from the bed though every step you took was like feeling fire against your skin.

“No ones coming to save you!” Peter shouted as he dragged you out of the room, past your guards, and to the outside balcony that overlooked the entire fortress. Everyone was used to causing the scene with his cruelty so no one even batted an eyelash as you were pulled around like a ragdoll.

He pressed you against the wooden railing, making you look out into the snow-covered court. The snow that was now soaked in blood. He was in pieces but you recognized him. It was the young guard you had talked to you. Stupidly, you asked him when the guards normally changed shifts in the compound.

His legs were separated as well as each of his arms and then …. his head. His eyes were still open. “We cut off the head last,” As you closed your eyes, he pulled at your hair tightly, “He learned what happens when you try to steal my treasure. Treasure I bravely sought and retrieved on my own.”

It was all your fault.

He was gone before Peter even stepped into that room.

Your body was only protecting itself by shutting down and causing you to faint. Peter caught you as you fell into his arms.

You awoke on a soft cloud. Everything smelt of sweet vanilla, even your hair. You touched your hair and found it longer and much softer than usual. Your eyes could barely adjust to the blinding light in the room. When were thing’s ever this bright on Lord Parker’s land?

Had he finally set the place ablaze with you trapped inside? The thought of it was delightful. You even considered closing your eyes again but, the room you were in, gave off an entirely different feeling than the fortress.

You sat up in the bed and your mouth gaped as you took a look around. You stumbled as you stood up on the bed. The room was ginormous, even bigger than the over-sized bed. It reminded you of the great hall in the manor you grew up in … except it was a bedroom made of gold.

You looked down at your body. This was not the white gown you were last wearing. There were no stains of blood or tears down the chest. There was also no burning on your skin, on your bottom or around your neck.

You paused as the tall gold doors opened to the room. You stared as he entered, clad in a royal suit of blue, and wearing a smile. A smile? You had never seen him with a real smile, “Did you use to jump on the bed when you were younger?” He asked a tone you weren’t quite used to. It sounded pleasant, like there was happiness on his lips, “That was my favorite too.”

Had he slipped hallucinogens into your drink? Or was this just a nightmare of your own creation?

As he moved closer to the bed, you panicked, moving down to your knees, “M-My Lord,” You addressed him, your head tilted down.

Peter paused, taking in your appearance, and his smile turned to concern, “Your Lord?” Peter asked softly, moving towards you. He reached for your hand and, although you didn’t pull away, he felt you shaking, “Y/N, what’s going on?”

You lifted your head, facing the demon, “W-Who is Y/N?” Peter searched your face for some symbol of amusement. He thought you might be pulling a prank on him but it was now clear that something was very wrong, “Where did you take me?”

Peter pulled away his hand, realizing he was only causing more unease, “I didn’t take you anywhere. This is my home. Our home. Should I call in the physician ...”

“We don’t live here …” You looked around the large room again.

“Y/N, do you promise me that this is not some sort of game?”

You shook your head quickly, “No games, My Lord.”

“My name is Peter. I am not your Lord …” Peter’s voice trailed off, his mind racing with concerned thoughts and confusion. Peter beckoned you with his hand, “Why don’t you come with me, Y/N? We will have a talk with May.”

A trick. This had to be some elaborate trick then.

“I only talk to you, My Lord,” You assured him, “I won’t speak to anyone else, I promise.”

His eyes seemed to sadden. Sad? You’d only seen anger from him before, “Y/N, you can talk to other people. I am your husband but I do not control you. You have friends. You have a family.”

A sick joke then. You stared at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head, “You killed them. They were not worthy. You spared me despite my unworthiness.”

“I-I never-” Peter stopped himself, realizing that it was becoming useless to argue at the moment. You seemed to flinch at the slightest raise in his voice, “Walk with me, please?”

You were hesitant but you crawled from the bed, your bare feet touching the cool, marble floor. The fortress was grays and black. The fortress was soot and wood. This was a palace and the man before you were dressed like a prince.

Peter noticed the distance you kept from it. Yesterday, you were madly in love with him. You held each other through every royal meeting and you spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. He remembered how nervous he was when Tony announced the plans for his marriage but, the moment he saw you, he realized his luck. He was even luckier that you felt the same.

You glanced around the long hallways with tall white walls and ginormous windows that gave a view of the sun over a calm sea.

“What city is this?”

As the name of the city left his lips, your heart stopped. It was the same city you were kidnapped and taken to but you saw no sign of the darkness that you remembered. Had the darkness all been a bad dream?

The woman named May attempted to explain everything to you. She noticed your uneasiness around Peter and kindly asked to have a moment alone with you. You were frightened to speak out of turn, for fear of Peter punishing you, but the woman encouraged you to talk to her.

She knew all about the kingdom you hailed from, about your family and your peaceful people. They were all alive, Peter’s forces never led an attack against them. In fact, your father and King Tony arranged the marriage between you two. Peter was a Prince. The prince of a kingdom that did not wage war against innocents.

She checked your vitals, not noticing anything that was physically wrong with you. You didn’t even have the scars anymore.

Despite all of this, the thing that made everything sink in was seeing your family. Both your mother and older brother had not returned back to your kingdom, and you were able to embrace them after believing you had lost them forever.

Peter wasn’t sure what to think of everything. So much had changed that he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same girl anymore. He didn’t want to be a villain to his own wife. He regretted that the bond that they now shared was indestructible. To divorce was a sin and they’d both be shamed by their countries.

“I can find somewhere else to sleep tonight …” You looked up to Peter, seeing how he was trying to hide his sadness. Your chambermaids had prepared you for bed, bathed you, and put you into fresh nightclothes made of the softest silks.

“It is your room,” You told him quickly, “I should not deprive you of the comfort … the comfort of sleeping next to your own wife.”

“I can tell you do not want me to, my love,” His words made your heart pang. Love. Did Peter love you? At least, did he love the old you? “I will allow you to have all the time that you need. I do not wish to be the source of your nightmares.”

Peter had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to change that fear she felt.

“Please stay,” You told him as he made a move to leave, “I do not want to be alone.”

You had spent the entire day with your family, and now you just didn’t want to fall asleep in the silence.

Peter thought for a moment, deciding his plan of action. You couldn’t help that your breath caught in your throat as he approached where you laid on the bed. He didn’t reach to touch you, only to grab a pillow.

He laid it on the ground beside the massive bed and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the hard floor. You rolled over in the bed, looking over the edge at him, “The floor is no place for a prince, your grace.”

Peter instantly shook his head, “I do not know what you mean, my love. It feels great down here,” You could tell her was lying and a small grin pulled at your lips. He was willing to sleep on the floor just so you could be comfortable?

“Peter?”

Peter couldn’t help how his heart fluttered when you simply called him by his first name. He liked knowing before that you liked him as a person, not as an authority figure.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“What kind of things did I use to like?”

Peter didn’t expect the question, but as the memories rushed, he couldn’t help but smile, “You loved your family. You always talked about them, about your people. You wanted everyone to know that you were a princess of two, great kingdoms, not just my own. You made sure they were never forgotten.”

You continued to listen as you pictured it. You hadn’t realized they were memories of your own.

“You liked to garden. It reminds you of your time with your grandmother. You love the life you can create, the beauty you can make.”

A tear slipped down your face as you remembered the older woman.

“You liked it when we went out on the boat and rode in the bay. You liked the sound of the ocean and the sun on the skin. You hated that we kept the fish we caught. You hated how they had to die and you insisted that we give them to beggars on the street.”

You realized that this wasn’t some past you that Peter was talking about. The girl he was talking about was still you. She just had a better chance at life.

“You loved looking at the stars. You smiled for days when I showed you the telescope my father purchased from that French merchant, I swear it.”

“Peter, I-I am sorry,” Peter noticed you were crying and shot up from his spot, reaching to hold your hand, “You are nothing like him. You are nothing like him.”

“Do not cry, please,” Peter begged, rubbing soothing circles on your skin, “There is nothing to apologize for. Whatever this is, we will get through it.”

As his thumb brushed the tear from your cheek, you saw him clearly. You could look into those brown eyes and know he’d never hurt you.

Hope you enjoyed! (Also sorry, please don’t ask for a second part)

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astralaffairs · 3 years

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think of it as like an au or something, but I'm just curious to see how president thom would react to seeing someone forcing themselves on mc at like a state dinner if they're not together, i feel like he'd try to stand up for her but also it'd be kinda sus of the president standing up for some press figure who's been talking shit abt him

i love this concept omg. i got an ask similar to this a while back, so i’ve been sitting on a lot of ideas for it. tbh thomas would hardly be able to restrain himself from fucking throttling whoever’s harassing mc, but he isn’t gonna refrain from stepping in. anyway, his standing up for her then makes the media hail him as a feminist icon for like the next 3 weeks

this broke my heart to write tho lowkey </3

-----

"You're… you're Y/N L/N, aren't you? With the Washington Post?"

Y/N had been sour all night. Her feet were cramping in her heels, the tag on her dress was starting to itch, and worst of all, her editor had forced her to take the invite Alex had extended her to the state dinner. She’d had no plans of interacting with the Jefferson administration — in fact, her plan had been to stay as far from them as possible so that she could focus on work, but she mentioned the state dinner offhandedly to a coworker, another had overheard, and the next thing she knew, her boss had found out.

Moreover, she was fairly certain that Thom– no, President Jefferson had only invited Alex to antagonize him, so it was no wonder he didn’t want to go. However, when he gave her the invite, she protested that, since it wasn’t addressed to her, she couldn’t go, and she certainly couldn’t go without him, but both Alex and her editor had insisted it’d be fine. There would be enough people present that she’d slip under the radar, so what was the harm?

And slip under the radar she did. As Vice President and Second Lady, James and Dolley were unattainable company for the evening; they were busy with the heads of PACs, with senators, with members of the State Department. The latter group included Lafayette — he’d been promoted not long after President Jefferson took office, which ruled him, too, out of her options for who she could hang out with. He was off wooing foreign diplomats.

So, there she was, standing alone at the side of the room with her expensive champagne (there was an open bar, thank god) and the small-but-growing pile of business cards she’d collected throughout the night.

At least, she was alone until the anonymous man in question approached her. She turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m Y/N,” she said, surprised that she’d been recognized. “I’m not with the Post, anymore, though.”

“Of course. My mistake,” he apologized, and when he extended to her a hand to shake, she stuffed her newly-acquired business cards back into her purse “I’m Richard Lestrade. I work in the Department of Defense.”

“Nice to meet you.” She had little interest in chatting with him, but she politely shook his hand. “What can I do for you?”

He laughed softly, but it made Y/N raise an eyebrow. “I don’t have some kind of agenda. I just recognized you from your time as a news analyst and thought I’d come introduce myself.”

“Of course.”

She only responded so as to placate him, and she thought that how curt her reply was would deter him from trying to strike up a conversation. She met his eyes with an expectant eyebrow raised as she took another sip from her champagne.

“So how’d you get an invite here tonight?” he asked after a moment. “I mean, I was invited because I work for him, working on naval strategy and all, so it’s just a perk of the job, but I’m surprised to see you. With how much you’ve done to keep President Jefferson from being elected, I wouldn’t think you’d end up on the guest list for state dinners.”

She shrugged. “Alexander Hamilton invited me, actually.”

“Secretary Hamilton was invited? Really?” At that, the disbelief in Richard’s expression was almost patronizing. “Wow, I didn’t hear that he and President Jefferson had buried the hatchet. I always thought they were rivals, or even enemies.”

“Oh, make no mistake, they hate each other,” she said coolly.

“So why would Secretary Hamilton be invited?”

“So Jefferson could rub it in his face that he won the election.” She shrugged, turning back to face the room before them, but Richard seemed surprised.

“No, no, he wouldn’t be that petty,” he scoffed, but his tone was condescending, as though her theory had absolutely no foundation. “He’s the president. I think he has higher priorities than antagonizing someone who’s old news.”

Y/N resisted rolling her eyes at his calling Alex ‘old news,’ as though Richard was somehow a higher calibre of invitee to the state dinner. “You underestimate how catty politicians are. Jefferson included.”

“President Jefferson,” he corrected her, and she gave him a sidelong glance, eyeing him warily.

“Sure.”

“But anyway, I suppose I’m glad President Jefferson invited Hamilton, if it means you’re here, too.” Richard raised his glass to her as though in tribute, and she was sure the smile she offered him came off as more of a grimace. She had little appreciation for his heavy-handed advance.

“That’s nice of you to say,” she replied mildly before draining the remainder of her glass. She turned to him with a nonchalant, nearly-blank expression. “And as great as it’s been to meet you, I think I have to run. I’m heading out soon and need to say a few goodbyes.” Truthfully, she had no intention of leaving. Her editor would have her head if he found out she cut bait so early in the night, and if she fled before Jefferson addressed the entire room, she wouldn’t be able to provide her boss with the synopsis of the presidential address. She only wanted to leave that conversation.

“You’re leaving so early? Why’s that?”

She shrugged. “I suppose the Jefferson Administration isn’t really my scene. I’ll see you around, Mr. Lestrade.”

“Please, it’s Richard,” he corrected her. “But you should stay longer. If you leave now, you’ll miss President Jefferson’s address.”

What was it with this guy and using Jefferson’s full title? “Please, consider for a moment that missing it may be entirely the point,” she said dryly, and Richard gave a light laugh.

“Oh, please. I’m sure that even a democrat like you can appreciate a good speech.” ‘Even a democrat like her’? What was that supposed to mean? “As a journalist, this should be right up your alley.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find the transcript online in a few hours. I’ll survive.”

“It’ll have a much greater impact in person,” he countered, and she sighed. “So, please, stay. Can I get you a drink? What are you drinking?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” she said. As though she was about to let a man she’d met only minutes before handle her drink. That would be a recipe for disaster. “I really should get going.”

“No, wait,” he protested, and when she began walking away from him anyway, he caught her by the arm, pulled her back. She turned back to him with an expectant expression, trying to quell the anger building in her chest. “You can’t leave yet; dinner hasn’t even been served.”

“I can fend for myself on that front,” she assured him, and although her teeth were clenched, she plastered on a smile. “So if you’d kindly let go of my arm, I’m going to be on my way.”

“I was hoping to get to know you, actually.” He released her, but her immediately marching off toward the center of the room caught him off guard. “No, wait!” She stifled a groan when she heard him hurrying after her, and as he came to a stop in front of her, blocking her path, she narrowed her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Come sit down with me and some of my friends; it’ll be a nice time, okay? I’m a nice guy.” He wore a hopeful smile, apparently convinced of his words as she folded her arms.

“I’m sure you are, but I need to get back to my table to retrieve my coat,” she said apologetically. Her anger didn’t show on her face, thankfully. “So I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Oh, sure you can; you’re just being stubborn,” he insisted. He took a step forward toward Y/N, and she took a step back. “Now, I know we’re from opposite parties, and all, but I’ve been a fan of your reporting for a long time, and I’d really appreciate it if you just came and sat down with us for a few minutes. You and I have a lot in common. I have a feeling we’d hit it off.”

The coy smile he wore made her want to grimace, and when he added a wink, she did grimace, visibly. “This is nice and all, but I’m not really interested.”

“Sure, because you don’t know me yet,” Richard countered, and he took another step toward her, grabbing her by the elbow as he came to stand next to her. Y/N could feel her heart pounding as he forcibly turned her, pointed out his table. “Let’s go. We’re sitting right over there.”

“No, really, I’d rather not,” she repeated, and as she tried to pull her arm away from his grip, he pulled her toward him with an arm around her waist — it was then she realized she couldn’t do nearly anything about it without making a scene. And given her history, a scene was the last thing she wanted. “Please let go of me.”

“You don’t have to stay long; I’m not asking much.” It was then that he began leading her toward the table, and as she stumbled alongside him, panic was rising in her chest. She was looking around for some way out, some familiar face — Dolley, Lafayette, someone — but nobody appeared. “Just have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”

And there he was, repeating his offer. No matter who it was, the insistence on drinking with her would make her wary, but this man already had worry building in her throat, so the feeling only compounded with his words. “I don’t want to come with you. Get your hands off of me.” He didn’t stop, though, and she finally had to dig in her heels, trying to pull back from him. She knew he was stronger than her, but her resistance to him dragging her along certainly grabbed his attention. Richard frowned.

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a–”

“‘M fairly sure I heard her tellin’ you to let go of her.” The voice was stern, and it made both her and Richard freeze, and for entirely different reasons. Y/N would’ve been able to recognize it anywhere, the southern drawl, the lazy enunciation, and her pulse was then spiking for an entirely different reason. Richard turned immediately toward the sound, releasing her, but Y/N stayed put.

“Mr. President,” Richard said breathlessly, his eyes wide. “It’s an honor to meet you; I–”

“What’s your name?”

“Richard Lestrade, sir.” He sounded excited to have courted Jefferson’s attention, apparently oblivious to the undertone of anger in his voice. Y/N recognized it clearly, though, too clearly, and it made her sick to her stomach. She resented the familiarity.

“D’you work here, Mr. Lestrade?”

“I work for the Department of Defense, sir. I’m a naval strategist. Graduated top of my class from the US Naval Academy; I actually helped plan the–”

“I don’t remember askin’ for your resume.” Then, the annoyance Jefferson exuded was clear, unmistakable in his snarky interjection. Y/N had to purse her lips to keep herself from laughing, especially as she glanced over at Richard and found him pale as a ghost.

“Of course not, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizin’ to, now,” Jefferson said frankly, and Y/N didn’t see him watching her until she reluctantly turned, glancing between him and Lestrade. “Ms. Y/N L/N, correct?” he asked, and she nearly winced.

“Yes, that’s me.” Her strained smile was fooling nobody, but when he saw it, Jefferson’s composure didn’t waver.

“Did I hear you tellin’ Mr. Lestrade not to touch you?”

When he addressed her, she forced herself to shake her nerves, he jumbled emotions, off for the time being, and she pushed her shoulders back, presenting a front of confidence.

“You did, as a matter of fact.” She looked up tentatively to meet his eyes — and she immediately wished she hadn’t. While his expression exuded nonchalance, his casual authority over the situation, she knew him well enough to recognize the concern in his eyes: his forehead was creased almost imperceptibly, one eyebrow was quirked up, and one corner of his mouth twitched down. Her jaw tensed as she swallowed her heartache.

She was grateful that he then turned back to Richard. “Care to explain yourself, Mr. Lestrade?”

The interaction had stirred a bit of a crowd around them by then; the others in their immediate vicinity had ended their conversations at once upon hearing the confrontation, but the hush seemed to be spreading further across the room, and Richard was glancing left and right as he gaped at Jefferson. “Oh, no, it was just a misunderstanding. Look–”

“I’m not sure it was,” Jefferson cut him off, and his tone was biting. “Forgive me if this is too presumptuous, but I don’t think there’s anything unclear about a woman tellin’ you to take your hands off of her.”

“We were just chatting.”

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Jefferson said, folding his arms. “From where I was standin’, it seemed like you grabbed a woman against her will, and you refused to let go. ‘S that accurate, Ms. L/N?”

She wished desperately that he’d stop addressing her. Her throat went dry as he all but admitted he’d been watching her, and she could only nod, unable to find her voice. Thankfully, he took that as enough of an answer.

“I never meant to hurt Y/N, sir. Honestly, I’m so sorry if I did–” Richard turned to Y/N. “I’m so sorry if I hurt you, but my intention wasn’t–”

“You blatantly ignored me telling you to stop,” she said. His speaking to Y/N once again made her blood boil, and she couldn’t help but snap at him, despite how lightly she felt herself to be treading in present company. “Don’t pretend like this was some unfortunate accident.”

Lestrade went from gaping at Jefferson to gaping at her, then. “I… I’m sorry, again, but come on, you know I was just trying to be friendly,” he defended, and she rolled her eyes, getting tired of his excuse. The edge of aggression in his tone made her take a wary step away from him, though. “I invited you to–”

“You said you work for the Department of Defense, correct?” Jefferson cut him off, diverting his attention from Y/N, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, silently thanking him for bailing her out.

“Yes, sir.” Lestrade offered a weak smile, but his fear was obvious in how he was holding himself. Jefferson regarded him with an air of disgust, looking him up and down.

“Well, you don’t anymore.” Y/N’s eyes widened at the declaration, but President Jefferson paid her no mind. “ I’ll be in touch with your supervisor to have you dismissed.”

“What?” Lestrade asked, “but, sir, that’s my job. I need to–”

“Not anymore, it isn’t.” President Jefferson’s words were firm. “Now, please, I’d like to ask you to leave now so it isn’t necessary for me to have you shown out with a security detail.”

Lestrade froze, and for a moment, Y/N expected him to protest, but when he saw all the people around them watching him, anticipating his next move, he turned on his heel, flushing bright red, and started toward the exit. Y/N and Jefferson were both scowling as they watched him leave.

However, it wasn’t long before Jefferson turned to Y/N, although she hadn’t turned back to face him.

“Are you alright, Ms. L/N?” he asked mildly, and she was sure her surprise pertaining to the whole situation was written across her face when she met his gaze. She nodded hesitantly. “I’d appreciate hearin’ you say it.”

“I’m just fine,” she assured him, voice shaky, and his tense shoulders relaxed, although he didn’t look fully convinced. “But thanks for your concern, really, Thom– sorry, Secretary– I mean, President Jefferson.”

She saw the corners of his lips twitch up when she almost called him Thomas.

"Of course. Let me know if there's anything I can do." His words were wary, careful not to cross any lines or to impose upon her, but she smiled.

"I think that firing Mr. Lestrade on sight was quite enough," she said, and when a grin split Thomas’s– President Jefferson's worried expression, her stomach turned; her smile was strained. Everything about him felt too familiar, painfully familiar.

"Fair enough,” he acquiesced. At how ill-at-ease she appeared, though, his smile wavered. “Hope I didn't go overboard."

She shrugged. "He deserved it."

Thomas Jefferson laughed, and the sound was as warm as she remembered it being. She hadn’t heard it in person in nearly three years, and for her to have come across him so suddenly, it was jarring. She was quite sure she was going to be sick.

“I s’pose you’re right.” By then, those around them had begun to disperse, so after glancing left and right, he took a step closer to her, furrowed his brow, and every muscle in her body tensed. Yet, she didn’t move away. His voice was soft, gentle when he asked. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, swallowing hard. “Don’t you have some politicians to get back to?”

He pursed his lips, and she was sure the tense grief in her expression wasn’t hidden as well as she’d have liked it to be. “I guess so,” he finally said, but he didn’t move, looking her over, and his voice was quiet when he said, “‘S good to see you, though. You look good.”

“Yeah, you too,” was all she could manage in response. He gave her a sad smile, nodded, and the silence between them stretched on Just as she thought he was about to turn, head back to where he’d been previously, he stopped himself.

“Will I see you around?”

The hope in his voice made her throat tighten, and she took a deep, shaky breath. She shook her head, and her voice nearly broke when she answered, “I don’t think you will.”

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