#i want to see ei trying to mend the broken trust between her and her people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Friendly Figure

Pairing: Fundy x gn!reader (can be read as both romantic & platonic!)

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] While Fundy may have had more than his fair share of poor fatherly figures, he’s more than grateful to have you.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: this was requested by an anon who wanted a story surrounding fundy’s life story within the smp! this ended up being a fun combination of a character study with an actual story, and i loved it. i hope you enjoy, as well!

You waved your arm eagerly as you sank your teeth into another bite of delicious pumpkin pie. “Bye, Niki!” you called out between muffled chews. “Thanks for the pie!”

A few yards away, you saw her wave back, raising a hand to cup her mouth as she yelled back. “You’re welcome! I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

You sent her one last wide grin before turning on your heel, twirling your fork in your hands as you set off down the path once more. Niki really did make the best pie.

You hummed as you watched the sun dip below the horizon, the sky painted with fading streaks of salmon and lavender. Beside you, Fundy grumbled, his ears flicking atop his head in annoyance as he eyed the plate in your hands. “Why did you get an extra slice and I didn’t?”

You raised a brow at him, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Because you didn’t ask, nimrod.” Pointing your fork at him, you scoffed. “If you did, I bet Niki would have handed one over, no questions asked.”

He wrinkled his nose, at you a scowl stretching across his face. “‘Nimrod’?” he parroted. “You’ve been hanging out too much with Karl.”

You stabbed your fork into the pie in your hands, watching as the crust crumbled delectably onto your plate. “What can I say? He’s nice!”

Fundy looked appalled. “And I’m not?”

You stared at him, blinking for a moment, then shrugged, a teasing glint dancing across your eyes. “Eh. You’re alright, I guess.”

He glowered, raising his arms as you took a cautionary step back. “Why, you little—”

“Fundy!”

You and Fundy both stopped dead in your tracks, your fork dropping onto your plate with a clatter. Your eyes met, and a mutual look of discomfort passed between your gazes.

You would recognize that voice anywhere.

Slowly, the two of you turned, your gazes landing on a familiar worn yellow sweater, the cloth fraying at the edges after years of wear. In front of you, you could only stare as Ghostbur jogged up to Fundy, his dark, near-translucent eyes glimmering with hope.

Fundy coughed, trying and failing to hide the discomfort growing on his face as he offered a small wave. “Uh, hi, Ghostbur.”

Ghostbur’s pale lips curled into a frown, his brows furrowing. “Why the long face?” He leaned over, gently elbowing Fundy’s side, missing the way his son stiffened at his touch. “Aren’t you excited to see me?”

Fundy lurched back, clutching at where he had been touched. “Not really.”

Ghostbur let out a small whine, his shoulders drooping. “Aw, come on. Why don’t we have some father-son bonding time together?” He sent him a goofy grin, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia. “You know, just like the old days.”

You heart ached at the pain that flickered across Fundy’s face, his ears pressing flat against his head. There were no father-son bonding times when Wilbur was alive—at least not the kind that ended with actual bonding.

Fundy shuffled back a bit, and you instinctively took a step closer to his side. “No thanks,” he muttered softly, averting his eyes to the ground. “I’d rather not.”

Ghostbur’s smile faltered, and something sad flashed through his gaze. “Ah, um, w-well, maybe we could catch up?” A tinge of desperation seeped into his tone, and he lifted a shaky hand toward him. “I haven’t seen you in a whi—“

Fundy raised a hand, and Ghostbur fell silent. “I’m good, thanks.” He offered him a smile, but it was strained and didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I actually think I’m gonna get going now. Bye.”

Before Ghostbur could even think to respond, he dropped his hand, whipping around and striding away. You blinked, your head still reeling with everything that had happened as you watched Fundy walk off. Tightening your grip on your plate, you took a step forward to follow after him when a quiet voice stopped you.

“[Y/N],” Ghostbur said, his voice coming out small.

You stiffened, then turned, swallowing as you sent him a wary glance over your shoulder. “Yes, Ghostbur?”

The moment his name left your lips, you froze, your jaw going slack. The light had left his eyes, and he only stared down at the ground with a vacant gaze, his hands limp at his sides.

You’d never seen Ghostbur look so... sad. So miserable. He looked defeated—broken. Then again, maybe he was.

Did Fundy really affect him so much?

“Please,” he said softly, so quietly that you could have mistaken it for a breeze. “Please tell me.”

He raised his head, and a pang of sorrow ran through your heart as he took a weary step toward you, his hand gripping at the fabric over his heart. “Where did I go wrong? What did I do to make him hate me so much?”

You blinked at him, pondering, then glanced down at the half-eaten slice of pie on your plate. A frown skittered across your face. You didn’t have much of an appetite, anymore. Sucking in a deep breath, you looked back at him.

“Ghostbur,” you said, “just like how there are some things we cannot change, there are some wounds we cannot mend, no matter how much we try. Your relationship with Fundy is one of them.”

He frowned, a sour gleam flashing in his ghostly eyes. “That’s not fair. I don’t want him to hate my like this forever.”

Something bitter rippled through you, and you snapped, “What you did to him wasn’t fair either, Ghostbur, but there’s no fixing that now.”

He flinched at your sudden shift in tone, and you almost wanted to apologize. Almost. Swallowing, he dropped his gaze to the ground, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Was I really so cruel?”

You stared at him for a few long moments. Then, you opened your mouth, and what came out was tasted like ice on your tongue.

“Yes. You were.”

Before you could feel even a grain of pity for him, you flipped around on your heel, striding off in the direction Fundy had left. How dare he be so upset that his son hated him when he was the one who made it so. You had seen it all, had seen every despicable choice he made as he chose to neglect his son, as he chose to abandon your best friend.

You couldn’t pity him—you would not allow yourself to.

Taking a shaky breath, you squeezed your fork a little tighter as you made your way down the walkway in search of Fundy. You already knew where he was—of course you knew. What kind of best friend would you be if you didn’t?

The sun had long set by now, and above you the stars twinkled like tiny, flickering candles. You trudged along the dark path, accompanied only by the moon’s soft light before you suddenly veered off the trail. Pushing past the low-hanging branches of the forest, you finally stepped up onto the cliffside, spotting Fundy sitting with his back leaning against yours and his favourite tree back from when you were little.

With a small twitch of your lips, you walked up to him, watching as his ears flicked in your direction. You could never surprise him, as much as you may try, so you simply settled into the space next to him, setting your pie down next to you. He was staring out over the forest below, his legs dangling freely off the edge. You tilted your head at him, then spoke.

“Hey, bud,” you said softly, your eyes scanning the somber look on his face. “You doing alright?”

His gaze flit to yours, then back over the cliff once more. “Sort of. Ish. I guess.”

You sent him an unconvinced look, and he paused, then let a loose sigh escape his lips. “No, not really.”

Leaning back, you offered him a weary smile. “Yeah, I figured. That chat with Ghostbur didn’t go over so well.”

Slowly, he pulled back his legs, curling them up to his chest and resting his head atop his knees. “I know he means well, but it just makes me feel sick, the way he talks to me. It’s not his fault, I know, but I...” He swallowed. “I—“

“It’s okay,” you murmured, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

He sent you a thankful grin, then his smile fell. Scooting back a bit further, he looked up at the stars, his expression thoughtful. “You know,” he said suddenly, “my experiences with dads has been kind of awful.”

You blinked at him, stunned, then blurted, “You just realized?”

He laughed, his ivory grin glinting in the moonlight. “No, but I think talking to Ghostbur today really got me thinking about it more.” His tail flicked behind him. “Growing up, I always felt like I just had to please Wilbur—like I had to be the best for him.” An almost hopeful look overtook his features. “After all, I was his little champion, right?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “But he never paid any attention to me. He was always focused on fighting wars and becoming president and—“ He sucked in a deep breath. “—and then he died.”

He furrowed his brows, and you could practically hear his train of thought speeding forward. “Looking back, I can hardly remember a single good thing he did for me. I mean, he wasn’t so bad when I was a baby and stuff, but when I needed him most, he was just...” He paused. “...gone.”

Suddenly, he whipped his head up and turned to look at you. “And then don’t even get me started with Eret. You know, I trusted him.” He held up a hand, gesturing wildly as his tail stood up straight. “He was actually nice to me, [Y/N]. He listened to me and gave me good advice, just like a real dad would. Then the papers came and... and... nothing.”

He stopped, his voice dropping to a tiny whisper. “Again.”

For a moment, he was silent. Then, he let out a long, bitter laugh.

“Oh,” he said, his tone growing wistful, “nothing’s changed, has it?” He ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes growing glossy in the moonlight, “I’m all alone, just like before.”

Just like that, your heart snapped into two, and you opened your mouth. “That’s not true, Fundy.”

The look he sent you was full of nothing but pure anguish. “It is, isn’t it? I’m just the forgotten son—“ He held up two fingers. “—twice over, now. No one wants me, no one at a—“

Before he could finish, he was cut off by you barreling straight into him, knocking him flat onto his back. Your arms caged him in as you panted over him, your eyes vividly scanning his as he stared at you in shock.

“Fundy,” you breathed, desperation soaking your words, “listen to me. You’ve changed. You’re stronger now, more resilient, and I see that.”

Slowly, you snaked a hand up to rest against his face, your palm pressed against this cheek. “I want you, Fundy. I’m here with you—I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your gaze hardened as it bore into his, steadfast and true. “And as long as I’m by your side, you will never be alone.”

He blinked up at you, his lips parted in awe. Then, ever so slowly, a smile, small but sincere, spread across his face. “Thank you, [Y/N],” he whispered.

Crawling back, you reached a hand out toward him, your smile widening as he grasped it in his. “Anytime, buddy.”

With a grunt, you pulled him forward until he was sitting upright once more. “You know what?” he said abruptly as you let go of his hand.

You cocked your head at him, your eyebrows knitting together. “Hm?”

Fundy flashed you a bright grin, lopsided and goofy in all the right ways. “Who needs a father figure when I have you?”

Your eyes widened as you sputtered, “W-What?”

His gaze suddenly grew serious. “You’re all I need. You’re like...” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “...my friendly figure.”

A few seconds passed in silence as you blinked at him. Then, you burst into laughter, not missing the way his tail bristled at the sound. “Fundy,” you wheezed, “that’s a horrible name.”

He shot you an irritable look. “Well, do you have a better one?”

Your laughter slowly came to a halt, and your eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes,” you said. “A best friend.”

He looked at you for a moment, then smiled back. “I like that one better.”

Suddenly, you turned, reaching out to your side. “You know what’s even better than that, though?”

His ears twitched. “What?”

When you turned, you held a familiar plate in your hands, a giggle threatening to bubble out of your throat as you took in his shocked expression. “Some pie.” You shoved a fork in his face—a new one. “Here, we can finish it together.”

He sent you a quizzical look, disbelief clouding his features. “Since when did you have a second fork?”

Without missing a beat, you stabbed the new fork into the soft, flaky dessert and held it up to his lips. “No questions. Only pie.”

He blinked at you for another moment, then grinned, opening his mouth wide for you to shovel some pie in.

You really were all he needed.

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ktheist · 3 years

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for the drabble game: college!taehyung + sentence starters + no. 8 under misc

8. “But I’ve never told you that before.”

muses. fratboy!taehyung / college!taehyung

kim taehyung and you have an odd relationship.

you’re not even friends, really. just two friends of a friend who makes an accquaintance and happened to find themselves in a secluded class some time after 5, once most of the classes are vacant. the lecturers have their own rooms and the classes are manned by persons from the admin and they hardly ever come around until 8pm when it’s time to lock the doors.

you find out taehyung’s obsession for art and he finds out your obsession for interior design. at least yours isn’t too far off from what mechanical engineering entails.

at some point, you can even say your interests are like two streams running side by side until it mingles at one point in time.

then, you find out that he’s part of one of the most notorious fraternities for their wild parties that lasts for three days straight at the end of every semester. and oh, here’s the good part, only the popular ones get invited.

“figures why you haven’t heard of me,” you tease.

“what? no! i-i’ve heard of you, i just didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you,” his wide-eyed gaze hints at a sort of innocence his brothers lack.

you wonder how he got sucked into the frat house shenanigans.

“chill, i was kidding, i’ve been laying low anyway,” you wave a hand.

“wh-what? why?” he asks and you’re not particularly restricted to telling him the reason.

“first year, jimin and i would’ve celebrated our 4th year anniversary - if you can’t tell, we were high school sweethearts,” you laugh, chest still prickled with the kind of pain only time can heal, “but yeeun came along, he fell for her and since she’s more popular, everyone just started believing that i was the one who got in between her and jimin.”

the rage in taehyung’s eyes spread like wildfire, burning and tearing down everything in its path until you place a hand on his shoulder and he looks at you as if you’re a goddess sent to placate hades’ wrath.

“it’s chill, at least i’m one heartbreak away from finding the right one,” you say.

but taehyung finds you with puffy cheeks and pink eyes as you walk out of the bathroom. it’s no surprise and yet it is. kim yeeun spilled coffee all over your hair and shirt and the slap you give her still reverberates against the walls of the lecture hall.

your friends who came out a second later connects the two dots and nudges you towards taehyung before scurrying away, but not with a threat of ‘you better not make her cry more, kim taehyung’.

why they left you with a boy you barely know is beyond you - but perhaps it’s got to do with the fact that delta psi is in tight rivalry of beta nu, the frat jimin’s been loyal to after he broke your heart and gave his to the girl that’s been microaggressively picking on you since day one.

“i heard the red mark on kim yeeun’s face is still there,” he casually says three days after he’s been running up to you every time he sees you somewhere in the large building made for sleepless engineering students.

“it better, i almost twisted my wrist because of it,” you roll your eyes but taehyung must have known that the hostility is awkward, forced.

then, so it goes, the many instances where kim taehyung and you would be spotted laughing or walking together as if he’s the boy who mended the broken girl’s heart.

unbeknownst to them that you’re the one gradually breaking taehyung’s heart with your ‘you know what, i’ve never had a guy friend’ and ‘chill, you’re scaring my potential boyfriends!’ at parties he starts bringing you to.

“i can’t wait to see johnny again,” you confess, smile curling on your lips as you nudge taehyung’s elbow, “aren’t you curious who this johnny-from-hometown is? might be another subject of you death glares.”

surprisingly, kim taehyung doesn’t bat an eye at the mysterious mention of the name.

“i know, she’s your cat.”

he keeps on walking whilst you stop dead in your track. it doesn’t even take fiv seconds to notice your lack of presence on his side before he stops too, twirling around and shooting you and arched eyebrow.

“but i’ve never told you that before,” you feel your own brows coming together in a frown.

“you mumble in your sleep,” taehyung points out as if it’s the most obvious thing to do.

“oh,” you whole heartedly believe him, falling back into pace with him.

in hindsight, you should’ve probably been more careful when you talk about sleeping and being in each other’s presence whilst that activity was happening. even if it was just taehyung helping out a drunk and offering her shelter until morning comes.

“yoo jia heard it with her own ears! they’re sleeping together!” is what’s been circulating around at the start of the week while you’re stretching your arms over your head as a yawn escapes you.

“i don’t wanna be that person, but,” jennie kim loops her arm around yours when she finds you in the hallway, heading to your shared class, “are you and kim taehyung finally dating?”

“finally?” you feel the muscles on your face contort into an ugly frown, “wait, does that mean there’s been speculations we were gonna end up dating? what?”

and that’s how you find out the rumor that starts up a fire throughout your whole class. by noon, it gets almost impossible to ignore those prying eyes that sticks with you as you stand in front of taehyung, “did you know? about the rumor?”

“can’t say i didn’t,” he shrugs.

“god-” you smack his arm and he dramatically raise his shoulders in brace for impact, “-damn it, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“what good would it do if i told you? ah! cuddlebugs, you’re hurting me!” his voice is exceptionally loud.

“c-cuddlebugs? what the-” you’re rendered frozen and wide-eyed by his tricks yet something in churns with butterflies.

“i’ll see you tonight, okay?” he pinches your cheek and slips past you with a sort of smirk that you’ve never seen him wear.

everything gets weirder from there after.

you become hyper aware of what kim taehyung does or say, the way he has two smiles; a pure box-ish one and a titled smirk that’s just enough to get your heart racing when paired with a rase of his eyebrows. there’s a hint of masculinity under the scent of fruity floral juul he smokes and sticks to his shirt. and his touches tingle. they tingle like a ghost of a touch lingering on the hand that he mindlessly holds to keep you from being pushed around by the wave of dancing bodies.

he laughs when you pull your hand away and crosses your arm over it, “chill, i wasn’t trying to make a pass on you, just making sure you’re still there when i turn around.”

you’ve had records of getting lost in the crowd when it comes to parties - and when are parties not crowded?

taehyung hands you an unopened can of beer and you look at him questioningly because he always pops it open for you, “you don’t trust me to hold your hand but you want me to open your drink for you?”

there’s an underlying brazenness in his teasing tonight, as if he’s mistakenly decided to wear a cloak of a frat boy than the kim taehyung you’ve known and loved.

as a friend that is.

“whatever,” you gulp down the drink with reckless abandon, appreciating the bitterness that somehow roots you to reality despite the impending buzz that’ll drive you away from said reality.

and then you’re back to your old self, laughing and joking around in that bench outside of taehyung’s frat house, sitting a little too closely until your thighs are perched on top of his and his hand is drawing circles on the outside of your thigh.

“i don’t like that,” you confess, “the way you’re trying to act all sexy and hot,” and without any warning, you take his face in your palms, squishing his cheeks, not enough to hurt but enough to make his eyes go wide with surprise and that innocent glint in them, “now, that’s better. that’s my taehyung.”

then his hand travels up from your thigh to your cheek, caressing the heated area of your face with his knuckles, “but if i’m the cute, childish taehyung, you won’t see me as a man.”

“man schman,” you huff, hands falling into your lap, “a real man won’t feel the need to act masculine to get a girl.”

“then... if i tell you i-”

and that’s when you lean so far back, almost hitting your head against the metal edge in the process if taehyung hadn’t caught you in time. eyes screwed shut and mouth partly open, you mumble, “man... schman...”

taehyung shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. he unzips his hoodie and wraps it around you - that’s another one he won’t get back, but he doesn’t mind as much because-

“you’re lucky i like you.”

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fic #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts au #bts fluff #bts drabbles #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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corpse--diem · 3 years

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Soul Meets Body | Metzli & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @corpse–diem and @deathisanartmetzli SUMMARY: Erin pops in to help Metzli regain something they’ve lost thanks to their master. CONTENT WARNINGS: none

The anger and sorrow was the worst mixture for the world’s worst smelling perfume. It stuck to Metzli’s clothes so everyone knew where they laid. So they stayed inside, letting turmoil spill out of their eyes like a watering can that was kicked over by the tides of wrath. With no family to weather the worst together, they had to step forward into this unknown, alone. Discover what it meant to want a soul, something that was supposed to never be regained. As if on cue, Yuca leapt onto their lap and purred as she pulled their hand away from the neck of their guitar to pet her, likewise pulling them out of their mind, if only for a moment.

Through the tears, Metzli smiled and pulled Yuca closer. Her warmth brought much needed comfort. With a sigh, they laid their head back and closed their eyes. In spite of Yuca’s love and affection, rage, quiet and lingering, bubbled in their chest. It was easier to let themselves be angry at Master E—no. Just Eloy. He may be dead, but the damage he caused still needed to be mended. Instead of sadness, they let the anger seep through more, but it still made them cry.

Slowly but surely, Erin was regaining Josephine’s trust. Her first few wishes had been fully supervised, within reason, and the reins were loosening little by little. She’d even encouraged the young fury to go off on her own, granted that she keep their lessons close to the chest. Even so, when that bright spot in her mind’s eye came calling, and the hunger that seeped into her very bones between meals was hard to ignore, she hesitated. The blunder of a wish she’d made with the young witch was still fresh on her mind. The sight of her pale, sunken features and Morgan’s mummified skin was with her through every lesson, every wish she’d granted thereafter. She’d do better and it was a promise she intended to keep and gave her the courage to try again. And she had gotten better. Even Josephine had said so. So she did. She focused on the spot, like she’d been instructed, letting it pull her to the source...

...Right into someone else’s home. With no warning to her or the blurry eyed occupant of the home, she found herself standing awkwardly in front of them. “Shit,” she mumbled, the confidence she had mustered in order to get this far wavering. Instantly she backed up, the danger of what she’d just done immediately hitting her. God damn it. When was she going to get a handle on this part of her magic? “Shit, I’m sorry, I--I come in peace?” She offered, putting her hands up like it would help.

Metzli reacted harshly to the sudden intrusion, making Yuca yowl in distress as they leapt up and grabbed their guitar. Body almost met Erin’s head when she lifted her hands up to gesture peace. She was met with glowing red eyes and sharp teeth. They began with a huff, “What are you doing in my house and how the fuck did you get in here?” Every word was filled with distrust and anger. It shifted from Eloy to Erin in a split second. Not just anyone got to see them cry, and now this stranger had not only broken in but saw their tear-stained face.

“What the fuck are you?” Metzli kept their guitar up, ready to swing in case Erin made any sudden movements. They just wanted to be alone. They just wanted to brood in peace as they tried to come up with some sort of plan for their soul’s retrieval and to find themselves in peace.

Erin backed up, moving as instinctively and quickly as the person she’d intruded on. Panic swarmed her better senses when red eyes flashed her way. Different than Marley’s, boasting a pair of fangs to go with them. Much different than Marley’s and distinctively not human. “I didn’t mean—well, I did mean to come here but I didn’t mean to end up here, in your house—“ she started, trying to catch herself before she stumbled her way into an even further mess.

“I come in peace. I promise.” Her words came out calmer, more assured, studying the tear stricken cheeks contrasting those feelings of fury radiating from the owner of the home. Her heart pounded but she was determined to maintain this composure. She nodded towards them though her hands never dropped from their defensive position in front of her. “I want to help you. That’s why I’m here. And if you want to put the guitar down, I’d be more than happy to explain further.”

Once the anger subsided a bit, a familiar scent permeated from Erin, one of a mara they had worked with before. It was all over her, making Metzli bring the guitar down, still with a suspicious glare. “Marley is all over you, so maybe you aren’t bad.” Circling around her, they pointed to the couch and took Yuca with them to protect her. “Sit. Explain.” They commanded, trying to gain any semblance of control back in their own home. Erin’s scent was akin to formaldehyde, making Metzli think she may be some being who preyed on the dead, but they couldn’t be sure. Body trembled and they gritted their teeth together to keep from snapping at their unwelcome guest.

“How can you possibly help me? You don’t know me. You don’t even know what I need or want. Are you some kind of fucking genie? Did I even call for you? I don’t think I fucking did.” Metzli spat their words at Erin, while the anger grew and poured out of them. It felt like there was a burning in their chest that could not be extinguished.

Erin startled at the unexpected mention of her girlfriend, straightening up with uncertainty. How on earth did they know about Marley? Her own guards raised at the implication, even if the knowledge somehow managed to quell the stranger’s for now. “How--” her brows furrowed, not sure how to approach that one, but the silence that followed was filled with the question she didn’t finish asking. Something supernatural was afoot, she was sure. “You… know Marley?” She asked now, gently taking a seat, arms still half up in front of her before they landed onto her lap.

She bristled at the genie comparison and found that she immediately hated it. “I’m not a genie,” she insisted, despite the fact that she could possibly grant them a wish should their issues align with Erin’s abilities. She took a long breath, resting her elbows on her knees before she explained. “My name is Erin, first off, and what I am allows me the ability to know that you might possibly need help. It’s part of the whole gig.” She shrugged, giving them a soft, friendly smile now, trying to ease some of the tension she still felt coming off of the owner of the home. All completely justified. “I really didn’t mean to just… pop into your home. I can sense anger--not just little annoyances or blips, like someone spilling their coffee or whatever. But big bouts of it. The kind that sticks. So when I do, I go to the source. And you--” she pointed towards her own chest, her brow raised knowingly. “You’ve got a lot of that going on. Anger. Your red was big and bright and it brought me here. And I don’t know what or why, like you said.” She winced slightly. “I know I didn’t have the most graceful entry here and you can kick me out, no problem. I totally get it.” She paused, nodding slowly in her direction. “But if you’re open to it, and if you want to talk, I might be able to help.”

“We worked together. I can smell her on you. She’s…cool.” Metzli stated dryly as they sat down on their loveseat. Erin offered a lot to them, and they did have anger in them. They felt like it was seeping out of every pore. It was so overwhelming that it made them cry and shake and yell. Wonder filled their head, wishing, no, hoping that she really could help. “Okay, Erin. I’m Metzli.” An emotionless face now accompanied their words, not wanting to be read easily, even while knowing Erin already knew how angry they were.

Standing up and walking to their liquor cabinet, they asked, “You want something to drink? If I’m gonna tell you this shit and get something out of it, I’m gonna need a drink.” With two glasses and the whiskey decanter in hand, they walked back and set up drinks for both of them. “You’re right though, I’m angry. I’m…furious. I’m…enraged. And I don’t know if you can help me, but if you can—” Metzli took a drink and leaned back into their seat. “My master took everything from me. And if—fuck, if I could have my soul…or at least know what it’s like to have one…it’s been so long since I’ve even felt anything. And it’s his fault. If that could happen, that would really cement his death.”

Erin raised a brow. They could smell her? It took everything in her not to lean down and take a discreet whiff of her own collar, like Erin could somehow now smell what this stranger could on her. It did confirm that whoever this was, they weren’t all human. And though she agreed, she was a little suspicious that someone found Marley “cool”. It wasn’t personal--Marley just usually wasn’t the most personable person in the world. So to have someone else paint her in a positive light right off the bat? Erin loved Marley, but she’d be an idiot to not find it questionable. She did her best to hide her skepticism. “I’d like to think so too,” she said, a slow smirk finding its way to her lips and nodding their way. “Nice to meet you, Metzli,” she said with an earnest that didn’t match the attitude she was greeted with. Which, again, was more than fair.

“Are you sure you weren’t expecting me? Whiskey’s my favorite,” she added, before letting Metzli take the reigns. To no one’s surprise, especially her own, she was right. But she listened intently, sipping quietly from her glass. “...Your master?” She repeated, the rest of the question hanging in the air. What the fuck were they taking about? This felt promising though. Their anger felt promising. “What do you mean? What did he do to you?”

“What a coincidence. It’s my favorite too.” Metzli replied, raising their drink in the air with a blank smile. The topic of conversation was already heavy, but it was definitely going to get worse. It took so much willpower to not squeeze the glass and destroy it with the underlying anger and fear in their skin. “Sí, my master. My sire. The man who turned me.” Whiskey rippled and crashed like tides in the ocean, due to shaking hands and tensed muscles. He was dead, but he attacked their loved ones, he tried picking away at their new life. All they wanted to do was kill him, and they did. They ripped him apart with their bare hands. All there was left to do to fix his wrongdoings. And they could do that…with a wish. A wish to know what it is to feel within their soul.

With a shaky sigh, Metzli continued after the whiskey finished burning their throat. “Rage is a quiet thing, right up until it’s not. It’s been quiet for over a century, so I think it’s overdue for the quiet to be broken. He slaughtered my village and family, sired me, convinced me to kill for the sake of my clan, had me lose my soul, abused me, and tried to take everything away from me after I desperately tried to get away from him. What did he do to me? More like, what didn’t he do to me?” The rest of the whiskey was downed with anger radiating for their trembling body. It was such a buildup that they couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears that trailed down their face and stained it.

“But I don’t know how I’d even react to having a soul, feeling remorse and guilt. I’ve done a lot of fucked up things, but I still want to know what it feels like. I’m missing out on so much because of him.”

Erin didn’t bank too much on this commonality salvaging her poor entrance but she sipped the drink gratefully anyway. Lord knew she needed it. She may have started on the wrong foot, and she could already hear Josephine chastising her in the back of her mind, but something told her she was starting to warm up to Metzli. Or maybe Metzli was simply tolerating her sudden, unwanted presence. When someone needed just to be heard, the needed ear sometimes came in unlikely forms. Maybe Erin was that for Metzli. Either way, she knew that now was the time to listen, and listen she did. Intently. “Turned you,” she echoed, her eyes narrowing slightly. From the little her slayer friend had taught her, there was only one way to create the things he hunted--vampires. Erin felt her limbs stiffen just slightly until she remembered the security of the body she inhabited. Most likely for scenarios like this. Not exactly like this, but if she was to live for an eternity, she would need a body that could withstand that.

“Is that what you want?” Erin asked quietly, taking in Metzli’s words. “A soul?” A brief pause as she circled the cup in her hands. “Or do you want to destroy him?” To take back something he’d taken from them or to obliterate the problem completely. Metzli’s situation seemed to fall so perfectly into her niche of help. The more they spoke, the more Erin could feel that brimming rage beneath their skin, and the more she wanted to help. “What means more to you?”

Hands tightened so much that the glass cracked beneath their palm, and it took so much will to not just shatter it. If Erin was the real thing, she could give them what they wanted, but they knew people who could “give them what they wanted” weren’t all they were cracked up to be. There were always conditions, there was always a catch. Getting their soul back wouldn’t be that simple, it couldn’t be. The world worked best with a balance, and there wouldn’t be an exchange if they simply asked for their soul back. Besides that, Metzli wasn’t totally sure if they wanted their soul. Rather, they wanted to know what it would feel like to have one before they came to a final conclusion.

“He’s dead now. Besides that, my soul means everything to me. I shouldn’t feel nothing when I kill someone. And I definitely shouldn’t feel nothing when a loved one is hurting.” Setting the glass down, Metzli leaned back and intertwined their fingers as they studied Erin’s face. “I know favors come at a cost, so my best bet would be to ask how you’d even do this. I want to know what it feels like to have a soul. To know what he took from me. That way I can really come to a decision about retrieving my soul for real. How is that doable?” Hope filled their eyes along with tears, and their breath shuddered. “How can you do that?”

I shouldn’t feel nothing when I kill someone. The confession was glaring and a little alarming all once, even if it was coming from, what Erin had to assume, was a good place. They had a general concept of right from wrong. Like many creatures she had encountered, their survival was dependent on harm. But that wasn’t their fault. And Erin couldn’t pretend she’d never spread collateral damage for the sake of her own survival. The guilt lay dormant most days, resting within her very core, but it was never not there. She would never forget. And if this went according to plan, perhaps neither would Metzli.

She eyed the glass as it cracked in their hands before setting her own down. Nervous, suddenly, and she wrung her hands gently. From what she knew about her own powers, this was something she could theoretically do. But the possibility of fucking it up again, to the degree she had with Bex and Morgan, lingered still. Her eyes met Metzli’s. “Magic. And revenge. That’s how.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, letting that settle, before continuing. “The type of magic I possess allows me to grant a wish as an act of vengeance for the wishmaker—“ she held a finger up, her gaze cutting. “And before you even think it, no, I am not a genie.”

“I can give you what you want—a glimpse at a life with a soul. But power like this isn't without its own caveats and unfortunately we usually don’t know exactly what those tend to be until after the wish has been granted. Depending on how it’s worded and what I believe is the intent.” And some other variables she hadn’t worked out yet. This was big powerful magic that not even her mentor could explicitly explain. She paused again, leaning forward a little more. “If that’s something you’re willing to risk to regain back a semblance of the control that was taken from you—then yes,” a small smile formed on her lips. “Just say the magic words and I can help you.”

Unbeknownst to them, they were slowly leaning forward throughout Erin’s explanation. Eyes grew wide and filled with intense hope. The spark from earlier was a full blown blaze, only rising as the moments passed, as Erin solidified her ability. The inside of Metzli’s mouth began to bleed, and they had to cough to forcefully ignore the wretched taste of their foul blood. Vengeance, the right wording, and magic. Their chance at feeling their soul was well within reach. All they had to do was—“I’m in. I don’t care what the risk is. I don’t care what the pain is. He took everything from me.” Their body jerked with the prickling energy beneath their skin. Eloy was gone, but the final fuck you and piece of revenge was having a soul again. Even if it was temporary, it was enough.

“Not a genie, but you grant wishes? Whatever. If you’re helping me, the least I can do is be less of an ass.” Metzli propped their elbows on their knees and swallowed thickly. “Even having a temporary soul would anger him more than what I did to him, so I wish to experience what having my soul would be like, to feel everything within it for a few days.”

It was hard for Erin to imagine existing without a soul, something tethered so close to a person’s core. It was what made a person a person, wasn’t it? Otherwise how different were they from animals? Her eyes flitted to Metzli’s, full of questions she knew she couldn’t ask right now. How much did Metzli feel? What was it like to strike another down without even flinching? It seemed unfathomable. Certainly, it said something about Metzli that they would want it back. “I can understand the confusion, but no—not a genie. I’m an Erinyes, if you must know. So thank you for not being an ass and I’ll try to do the same.” She smiled wryly, shaking her head and took one last sip of the whiskey. It was go time.

The terms of their wish were succinct, to the point, and Erin couldn’t see any obvious ways this could go horribly wrong. So she nodded, allowing the magic rushing through her veins to do what they did best. On the outside, nothing seemed to happen—it always worked that way. Her powers didn’t come with grandiose displays, even if this felt like a bigger wish than she normally granted. But once Erin nodded, a confirmation that the request had been fulfilled, she let a sincere curve take up the corner of her lips. “Done.”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: metzli #soul meets body

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decadentenemyturtle · 3 years

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Broken heart t'was made of wood

Part 2 - Despair

Words: 3 232

Previous chapter

Warnings: Angst, fighting.

Is there thing called a 'happy ending'? You didn't know. You weren't even sure if you cared enough at a moment. Right now it felt like the whole world was mocking you. You were in a Dale, staring at Dwalin and his lady, Olka, your stomach on knots, tears threatening to drop from your eyes and betrayl still foggin your mind. You had accidently ran into them, when you were about the leave the Lonely Mountain and this whole cursed place for good. Olka had somehow seen your misery like you were an open book to her, and after she had inquired about it for sometime, you finally told her everything. Dwalin, of course, knew what was wrong with you before you had opened your mouth. You could see it from him, how he avoided looking directly at you. And after hearing the whole story, Olka got mad at Thorin, and especially for Dwalin. He had, in the end, helped to destroy the statue's. And he hadn't even told anything about it to her, which angered the dam more.

What even is an happy ending? When you had everything you could hope and ask for, or when you were the most happiest person alive, or atlest were happiest in your own life? And how long would this 'happy ending' last? Till you died, till the next happy thing happened to you? Or would it even last forever, or was there some sort of timelimit how long this happy ending would last?

When will you get one? At a moment it felt like you would never get yours, the only thing you got was hardship after hardship. What had you done to receive this? Or what should you do differently to not to screw everything up. You didn't know.

And why were you even thinking about these things, instead of focusing on these two dwarves arquing in front of you, or better yet, turning around and dashing out of the city, as far as your legs could take you. Just as you were opening your mouth to apologie and leave, Dwalin growled and pointed at you.

"She profaned the royal family! Wooden statues, tsk..." he growled out, letting his hand to drop back to his side. Men, dwarves and elves walking around you had been staring at you three more or less concerned, but now they turned to you with confusion and anger, and even some of them stopped. Your mouth was still open, and just as you turned your eyes from Dwalin to Olka, trying to figure out what to say, a tear rolled down your cheek. Olka was looking at you, and she sighed like Dís did when she was disapointted - really disappointed - at one of his sons, or both.

"So a woman in love cannot gift a courting gift to her One, to ask him to be hers, to court her, to love her and share a life with her, with gift made of her handiwork, her trade? Which just happened to be in (Y/n) case a wood, not stone, diamond's and other minerals" Olka asked, her voice firm. "And did she not get the courage to carve her gifts for the king from you of all the dwarves?" The way Dwalin's face paled and how he turned to look at you was enough. He hadn't thought that you actually loved his king, that your intention had been good, not ill willed. Or that he really had been the inspiration for your idea to make something for his king. Just as you took a step back and started to turn to leave, your face clearly and openly showing your broken heart, Dwalin turned back to Olka.

"I did nae think she would've have forgive Thorin after...." he started quietly, but stopped short. And his face showed how he closed up, hid his raw emotion, something that should not be shown to other's, even Olka. There were things about the quest that were left untold, and this story was one of them. Olka narroved her eyes and stared at Dwalin.

"After what?" she demanded. She knew that there was something that had happened between you, Thorin and Dwalin that no one hadn't told her, or anyone else before. You had stopped and turned your eyes from Olka to Dwalin, who shook his head a little. He didn't want anyone to find out, of course he didn't. But when Olka turned to look at you, you knew that this was something you needed to tell, at leas to her. Olka deserved to know the truth. It was just that... you didn't want to tell it here where anyone could here you. And there quite few spying ears still listening you three. But there was nothing you could do for it, and you had to tell it now. There was no other choise.

"After his majesty had ordered in his state of madness Dwalin to kill me and feed my body to the orcs" you simply said, your voice breaking at the end and new tears rolling down your cheeks. Olka's face turned pale, Dwalin sighed and turned his eyes down to ground from the two of you, and every person near you now openly stared at you in shock. It was a known fact that Thorin had fallen in dragon sickess, and how he had defeated it. But not everything he had done in his state of madness was public, what ever it was for to protected his face and to keep dwarves, and other races, trust to royal family or save him, and the company and their families, from the bad memories. But whatever the reason was, you now realized that there were things that should have been told earlier. Not by you, of course, but still.

Olka had had no words after this. She had slapped, or rather, Hulk smashed Dwalin's right side of the face with her fist. And then she had taken you to the inn, tears of anger and betrayl falling from her eyes.

For once, Kíli had no words. And this was rare for him, really rare. The prince had always, always, some backup joke or comment to throw around, but now he didn't know what to say, or even what to do, or what to think. The situation he was in was just... too undrealistic, something he had never thought would happen. Something he would not have believed from his old mentor. He eyed the old warrior in front of him, sitting on a chair while Oín mended his swollen cheek and corner of his eye. It would be black and purple the next day, but hey, if someone asked from Kíli, Dwalin had asked for it and he deserved it. When Oín stepped aside to get some ointment for the swallown area, Dwalin's eyes met Kíli's.

"Where you really that blind to follow uncle's order's?" Kíli finally asked. Oín stopped for a second going through his medical back, slightly glancing at the warrior before he continued. Dwalin swallowed hard, lowering his eyes from the young prince. He wanted to scream "No!!" but they all knew it would have been just a lie. (Y/n) was not a queen yet, nor even courting Thorin, but she was still a friend of theirs, friends of his. And there was, or at leas had been, a change of her being growned to their queen.

"I never wanted tae hurt 'er, but neither did I want tae disobey Thorin. Even back then" Dwalin grumbled, now staring at his boots.

"You have been his majesty's most trusted bodyguard and best friend even after the dragon attacked Erebor. You know your duty to protect him, even from himself. In his majesty's darkest hour and darkest state of mind, you should have known to question his orders, as the rest of the company did. But no, you would have blindly taken an order from him, and killed an innocent woman, and for what? Because his majesty saw an betrayl in Bilbo, and somehow linked her to this same betrayl. And since he couldn't get our bulglar killed, he atleas wanted (Y/n) dead. As an worrior, you should have seen and realized, that this was an order you should not have done, and disobeyd" Kíli said. Dwalin's eyes shot up to him, surprised. This was far too mature reply for the lad. Yet, part of Dwalin was proud of him, for the lad showed that he was maturing well, and growing to be a fine, fair prince of Erebor. And how he was far too right, and was not afraid to point out when someone had made a grave mistake.

"Indeed, he should have" a deep voice called behind them. Kíli, Dwalin and Oín turned to see Thorin, and a shaken looking Dís and far too serious Fíli at the entrance of the infirmary. Fíli had his arm around Dís' shoulders, who in turn had hand over her mouth and tears running silently down her cheeks. No one said anything for a second, and just as Kíli turned his eyes and stared somewhere far away, Thorin took a step towards his nephew, his most trusted healer, and his best warrior.

"Dwalin, I trust you as a warrior and as my best friend more than anything. But at that time, when I was blinded by my rage and goldsickness, I wish you would not have been so loyal to me, but to be loyal to your other friend, a woman who could have been your queen. Even, yes, when we were not quite aware of that back then. I have loved that cursed wood crafter longer than I'd like to admit, and now I have driven her away, in more ways than I'd like to admit" Thorin spoke.

And only then did Dwalin look directly at the king. And he felt the pain of his loyalty to his friend and king, and while apologing for his mistakes, he silently accepted whatever faith would bring him. Because now Dwalin finally saw that his blind loyalty for his king came with a price.

The queen was not dead, but she was lost for her lover and her people, before she was even called their queen.

"Are you absolutely sure you are going to walk the jorney back there?" Olka asked, holding you arms apart from herself. You half smiled to her. You were sure. You had no life in Erebor, or in Dale. And you were sure that Thranduil wouldn't welcome you in his realm. The elf king had no opinion of you other that a "foolish girl travelling among a punch of dwarves, and being a lovesick fool". He knew you loves Thorin, he had quessed it at the night you and Bilbo had snuck out of the mountain to give the Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard. And the elf king was far too bitchy and drama queen to want to get involved in another kings love life. The evening was getting late, and you had hoped to be far by now. But, well, things had happened. First Olka and Dwalin had accidently run into you, and the Olka had taken you to an inn to eat - and then you had almost ran out when she tried to sugget that youd sleep there, alone with your thoughts, this close to the mountain and Thorin. You knew you'd crawl back to the mountain by morn. These past few hours had been filled with tears and cursing and plotting a few ways to hit, kick, destroy and murder several unnamed dwarves. But, in the end, after the tears were dried, they got to live safe and sound.

And after a sertain wizard had announced his presence in the inn, you had been more than ready to leave this place, once and for all. And, all honesty, Gandalf was more than ready to take you wherever you wanted to go. Albeit he did look heartbroken and seemed to already know your story in sertain area without you explaining him anything. Ugh, wizards, am I right?! But still, you were thankfull for him for escorting you to your destination. You couldn't have asken for a better companion.

"Yes, my dearest friend, I am sure. My place is not in here. And, if my plan fails me in the greenest hills in all of Arda, I hope I still have a place among the elves of the last homely home" you said, with a small smile curving on your lips. Olka's lips, in turn, turned in to a thin line. Her eyes turned away from you and she swallowed, hard. You could easily see, how she blamed herself of Dwalin's mistakes. But, this wonderful dwarrowdam had nothing to do with Dwalin's mistakes, she hadn't even known about them until today! So, you lifted your hands to her cheeks and when Olka's eyes met yours, you smiled to her.

"Dwalin's an idiot, big time. But you are not. There are few person's here who I can count as my friends. You and Dís are few of them" you told Olka, locking your eyes with her. You knew Olka didn't like Dís that much, and how she only endured her for Dwalin's sake. And for the boys sake, for she was like an aunt to those two idiots. You could have been an aunt to them too, if things had gone differently, you thought a little bitterly, but soon brushed it off from your mind. For the last time, Olka drew you for her arms and gave you last embrace.

"Do not lose hope" she whispered. You frowned and turned your head little to her, but you didn't see her face well. "Thorin is an idiot, but I do hear things. I overheard Dís once telling her boys, how Thorin has changed, somehow, and now I understand. Our king loves you, and it is his love for you that has changed him. If he just wasn't such an covard, Erebor would have received an excellent queen" Then Olka let go of you, bowed to you with a murmur of "my queen" and then she was gone.

Silent tears rolled down your face, when you walked to the room you shared with Gandalf. When the morning came, you two were gone. And not a soul came to get you back to the mountain.

"I heard from Olka that aunt (Y/n) left with Gandalf" the comment was said to no one in particular, and no one answered to it. The silent went on smd on, again, in royal living area as it had before the said comment. Then someone sighed.

"Uncle" someone said, and after a few seconds the raven haired king moved enough to let the speaker know that he had hear him, and only then did the speaker continue; "Are you sure about this?" When he wasn't about to say anything else, the king turned fully towards him, eyeign the young, dark haired prince with deep frown on his face.

"What do you mean, nephew?" the kings deep voice asked. The room was silent, besides the noice of someone still writing on a perchant. Then, brown eyes rose to meet blue ones and someone sighed. Again.

"Are you absolutely sure you are alright with her gone?" the younger one asked. And then, there was silence, even the pen writing on perchment had stopped. It almost seemed as if everyone held their breath. The blue eyed king turned back to stare the table in front of him. And then his eyes met the small music box.

"And what am I to do with it? She left. She does not love me" he answered, his voice hoarse. Now someone else sighed, tierdly. The king didn't need to turn to look at his sister to know how she was messaging he temple. And he was sure he heard someone mumble a word "Idiot". And only then did he turn to glare around to room, only to stop and stare at his best friend. They stared at each other. For a long while.

"Your majesty, she might have left, and for agood reason, but I am most certain that she still loves you" the old warrior said. He didn't say anything else, but the king knew there was a but. And in his heart and mind, he knew what it was. But because he was a coward, he didn't say it aloud. Instead, it was his nephew that had to say it aloud.

"But you drow her away, uncle. And you didn't go after her, or send someone after her, and that blasted wizard. You did nothing to try and get her back, to apologie, to try and get everything clear with her" the brown eyed prince said, bitterly. And the king knew how right this young boy was. But the next question took him by surorise. "So, dear uncle, what will you do now? What are you ready to do to make things right?"

The king sat there for a second, and then his eyes turned to meet both his nephews. And then his sisters.

"I love her" he simply said. And then he wasn't sure, what to say or do. And clearly everyone else in the room expected him to continue. His sister even let her brow rise in question.

"Yes, and?" the young prince asked, clearly running out of patience. Thorin sighed, and turned his eyes back to the table, trying not to roll them. He had to remind himself to not to tell the young prince to try and controll his patince, no matter how hard it was, and no matter the situation. He knew how hard it was to controll it. Because if it was up to him, he would be married by now and living happily...

.......

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

He'd be happily married now. With a woman he loved. With a woman, who was now Maker knew where, with that meddling Grey wizard. The king's eyes snapped to his oldest friend and seconds later he rose, maybe too quickly since the chair almost flew to a floor.

"Dwalin, where is your wife?" he said. Dwalin's brow only rose.

"Why'dye wanna know?" he asked, even when he, as did everyone in the room, already knew the answer. Bastard, the king thought as he glared at his best friend.

"I need to find my One. Even... Even when it takes some arrangment's and time to get everything ready. But still, I need to find her, I need to find..." he started to speak fast, trying to get everything clear and ready in his mind, all the while he walked around the room, until he was stopped his older nephew, who spoke now for the first time to him in a while.

"Uncle, stop. You have me, you have us. I will take care of the ruling while you are gone, I am your hair after all. Just go and get your stuff ready, and be quick! And take Dwalin and Olka, and few other warrios with you, and go. We'll be fine" he said. Their eyes locked, and for a few seconds they just stared at each other. Then, with the young blond hair's final nod and words, the king turned and left; "Uncle, go. Go and do what is right"

Tagged;

@sukeraa

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #thorin #Thorin Oakenshield #thorin x reader #dwalin #dwalin x original character #kili #fili #dis #gandalf

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 4 years

Text

Rain Song- Prolouge

So I promised myself I wouldn’t start any new stories until I worked on my pre-existing works. But...I just haven’t gotten anywhere with them creatively. I tried doing requests for one shots to spark my writers block and it didn’t work. This, however...came flowing out rather easily. So I’m going with it.

This is my first toe dip into Harry Potter. I’ve had this idea for a really long time. It will probably not follow cannon completely as I am creating an original character. But the bones remain the same.

Here’s the skinny- Sirius Black falls in love with Remus Lupin’s younger sister. Evanora Lupin-Black is a powerful Witch & Seer. (I’m kind of going with my own ideas with Seer mythology based on some HP stuff and some of my own ideas).

Sirius and Nora have a daughter who Remus Lupin must raise after the death of his sister and the imprisonment of is brother-in-law

Let me know what you think!

You are the sunlight in my growing - So little warmth I’ve felt before

October 31, 1981 “Remus...Remus you must take her and go! Please!” Evanora begged her big brother to take the sleeping child wrapped in her arms. She looked down at her daughter, the unfairness of the situation was palpable. She knew this was the last time she would see the most perfect thing she had ever done. She had spent the time waiting for her brother staring at a picture of her daughter and her father. She wanted the faces of the two loves of her life to be seared into her brain when the lights went out.

“What of Sirius?” Remus couldn’t take her. She was safer with Sirius. “She should be with her father.” Remus felt a pang. Sirius had recently been keeping him at arms length. Almost two years ago he trusted Remus with the life of his daughter when he was named as her Godfather. Now...Remus didn’t know what had caused the change. Perhaps the stress of the war. The fear for his family. The fear that Voldemort would take James, Lily and Harry. Fear sowed doubt. But Nora...Nora’s faith in her brother was unwavering. It always had been. Lycanthropy be dammed. Remus knew there had been contention between his sister and his friend because of Sirius’ change in attitude. Yet Remus knew, no matter what, his sister was meant to be with Sirius Black.

“He’s- I don’t know where he is. Please Remus. They’re coming. I won’t survive this. But she MUST. Please-“ Her voice broke as she choked back a sob. Nora had been preparing for this for months. Filling books with letters and instructions for her daughter. Pulling memories for her to see. Nora quite literally saw it all coming, yet she could say nothing. Nora couldn’t warn her husband. She tried to steer him in the right direction but his stubbornness knew no bounds. And now? Nora knew what would become of him. It broke her heart but she knew this was how it had to be. The conflict on her brothers face almost broke her resolve. She couldn't tell him about what had happened to her husband. Time would reveal all to her brother. It would be a hard road, but it was one he must travel. Her only concern could be for that of her daughter. Her survival was essential. She could only pray that the love and faith she had always instilled in her brother would be enough. He had to be strong now. They all had to be strong.

“Nora- let me get you both to safety. I cannot leave you behind.”

“Rem- you must. It is meant to be this way. She must be protected. I cannot follow her where she goes. To keep her safe I must stay behind. Big brother please.” He could never deny his sister. She was only a year younger than he and she had him wrapped around her finger from the moment they were old enough to know they needed each other. Remus didn’t even try to hide his tears. He reluctantly took the now almost toddler from his sister. He knew this was her end. He hated that she wouldn’t tell him more. But she never did. She would never upset the balance. She never messed with fate.

“Nora- I...I wish we had more time.” He wanted to say so much more, but he could not find the words.

“Me too Rem. Tell Sirius that I loved him, until my dying breath. Tell her...”Nora couldn’t hold back her sob.

“I’ll tell her everything. How beautiful and brave her mother was. How she loved her broken shell of a brother. How she made her father a better man. That he became the very best version of himself because of how much her mother loved him. She will know her mother’s grace and her ferocity. Her loyalness. Her ability to be all others above herself. How she was so wonderfully kind. She will know you Nora.” Nora nodded.

“Remus. You are not a broken shell of a man. You must remember how wonderful YOU are. She will need you. Be strong for her and for me. There is- there are journals and vials. She’ll need it to learn. Remus he will be back. He will fall, but he will be back.” Remus shifted his niece to one arm and hugged his sister and kissed her forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too brother now go!” He rushed out of the house after he threw the bags his sister had packed over his shoulder. He looked back at her one last time, she smiled through the tears in her eyes. She was always smiling. He forced himself to look away and fled.

Once outside he disapparated from the cottage. When he reached safety, he looked down at his niece. She had slept through the entire dramatic ordeal. She was the only person who his love for rivaled that of his sister. Her dark blonde hair already cursed with the wild curls of her mother. She had Nora’s features; pale and delicate skin, full lips and long lashes. She had her mothers radiating smile that would haunt Remus for the rest of his days. But he knew when she opened her big eyes the stormy grey of his best friend would be looking back at him. She already had Sirius’ proclivity for mischief and his full barky laugh. Her laugh was a sound that Remus could never get enough of. Her innocent looks would get her out of the many corners she would undoubtedly paint herself into. She had the charm of Sirius Black pumping through her veins.

He knew not of what happened to his best friend, he just hoped that whatever rift was between them could be mended. Remus didn’t know how Sirius would survive the loss of his sister. She had been the one to tame Sirius. While he was always a prankster, he mellowed for her. He renounced his play boy ways for her. And while he still a shameless flirt, he began to reserve it only for Nora. He knew Sirius was a good man. When Sirius asked him permission to pursue his sister Remus had laughed. It didn’t matter what Remus had to say, it was Nora he had to convince. He gave him his blessing and wished him luck. Watching his best friend and sister fall in love was the honor of his life thus far. Now, Remus would need help to tell Sirius that the love of his life was gone and it was now up to him to protect his special child.

He really wanted to go to Lily and James but it wasn’t possible with how they were heavily hidden. It gave Remus comfort to know that his niece would grow up loved by not only her father, but Lily and James as well. She would have Harry as a life long friend. He knew his condition would take him away from her and Sirius for stretches of time. James and Lily would help, once it was safe for them to come out of hiding.

He looked up at the house that would offer himself and the child safety until he could figure things out. It was several stories high, slightly crooked with multiple chimneys. The only other place he could think of that would offer him refuge was The Burrow.

He will return? Who will return? She had to have been talking of Voldemort. It didn’t make sense to him. Remus was confused. His sister, plagued with sight had painstakingly learned how to hone her gift without the help of an accomplished Seer. It was impressive. Her daughter would carry the same burden, Nora had seen it. Now it would be up to Sirius to find someone to help her, he had no idea who. Most of the Seers he knew were quacks or had a meager amount of talent compared to his sister. Remus wished he could take the power of sight from the child he loved like his own. He recalled the nightmares of Nora’s childhood and the intense headaches that had once plagued his sister. She could often see into a persons memories by touching them. She had pulled away from most until she learned how to shut that off. He didn’t want this for her child. It was different when Nora would be here to guide her. He sighed and walked towards the warm home of the Weasley family. He felt guilty for coming. While he knew the Weasley family supported the cause- they opted out as their children were so young. They had all met Arthur and Molly through Molly’s brothers who were active Order members.

“Remus?!” Molly had heard the sound of his apparition and had run down the stairs to greet him. “Where is Nora?” She looked wide eyed at the man before her. She looked at the child in his arms. When she looked back up at the man before her, Remus’ body began to shake. Molly, alarmed scooped the little girl from his arms and ushered him into the house. He needn’t tell her what happened, she knew, but she let him speak.

“I don’t know where Sirius is. But Nora....they came for her. They came for them both. She had me take her and she stayed behind. She said- she couldn’t follow her. If she was to survive she had to stay behind. I should have made her come. Oh God Molly. I left my sister to die.” Remus finally wailed. Molly was silent for a moment. She wanted to cry with him. She couldn’t imagine the wherewithal it took Remus to walk away from his sister. Had it not been for the girl, he would have stayed and died with her.

“She told you to take her because if she knew if she didn’t stay behind they would both be dead. You would be dead. You didn’t allow your sister to die, you’ve given your niece the chance to live.”

“How am I going to tell Sirius?” Remus saw something pass over Molly’s face but she didn’t not share what she was thinking. There was something beneath the surface but he did not have the strength to ask.

“Come, come inside. I’ll put the kettle in and we’ll wait. Arthur should be here soon. Let me take her up and lay her with Ronald. She can sleep and we’ll contact Dumbledore.” She patted Remus on the shoulder. She couldn’t tell him. Albus would have to be the one. She slowly walked up the stairs to her son’s room as she tried to maintain control of her emotions. She could feel her own feelings later. Remus needed them now. She stifled the feelings of loss. She laid the sweet child next to her son.

“I am so sorry darling.” Molly took a few moments to compose herself as she looked down at her son sleeping. They were children of war and while it seemed her son would go unscathed, the beauty next to him would not be so lucky.

Hope Euphemia Black, named for her maternal grandmother and paternal surrogate grandmother, would not know her parents. She would never know her would be Aunt and Uncle Lily and James. It would be years before she knew Harry. It would be up to Remus now to take care of her. Poor Remus, was all that Molly could think. The man who suffered and struggled all of his life lost his sister and 3 best friends in one fell swoop. Molly didn't know how Remus would take the betrayal of his brother-in-law, but it would not be good.

Molly was pulled out of her thoughts as the clock chimed. Undoubtedly Dumbledore would have secured Harry with Lily’s sister and would soon be on his way to find Remus. Molly would just have to hold it together for now. She closed the door quietly behind her as to not to disturb the children. As she walked down the stairs, the voice of her husband set her at ease.

“Dumbledore is on his way Remus.” She heard the clink of a glass. Arthur must have thought Fire Whiskey more appropriate given the circumstances. “I’m so sorry about Evanora. She was quite remarkable.”

“Her body-“ Remus couldn’t finish his sentence. “I’ve already dispatched the ministry to recover it. She will get a proper send off Remus.” Arthur was stalling, like Molly, he wanted Dumbledore to be the one to tell him about James, Peter and the fate that would be Sirius Black. Arthur knew that it would break him. Arthur barely knew the group of men and it tore him up.

A month later...

”Remus, you can’t be serious!” Minerva was incredulous. “You’ll need our help during the full moon. You need support. You both do.”

“We cannot stay here. She’s not safe. After what happened to Alice and Frank- I have to take her away from here. There are still Death Eaters afoot looking for Voldemort. He will return. She can’t be here when he does.”

“This isn’t what Nora would have wanted.” Minerva could barely speak her name. She tried not to have favorite students, but Nora Lupin had enchanted all those that came in her wake.

“NORA ISN’T HERE!” He regretted yelling as soon as the words left his mouth. She said nothing. He sat slowly and placed his head in his hands. “She entrusted her to me. Walburga is already trying to get her hands on Hope. I won’t let it happen.”

“And what of the full moon?” Remus sighed. “Andromeda and Molly offered to help. But with the supply of Wolfsbane we should be alright.”

“Where will you go?” Remus didn’t want to give the location away. He wanted Hope to know peace.

“My parents bought a beach front cottage. It was Nora’s favorite place. We’ll go there. It’s beautiful and peaceful. It’s a home that Nora loved that hasn’t been tainted by the war.” “And when she turns 11?”

Remus sighed. “Well...I have a little over 9 years to decide. I guess it will depend on how much control she has.” The idea of not having the opportunity to teach the daughter of Nora Lupin and Sirius Black was too much for Minerva. She didn’t know what caused Sirius to turn, but the boy she knew was who she decided to remember.

“Professor-“

“I think we’ve hit the point where you can call me Minerva.” Remus smiles sheepishly.

“Minerva- why did he do it? I cannot for the life of me piece it together. He loved my sister. He loved his daughter. How? Why?” Remus was beside himself with grief. Minerva could see the pain wearing on his features, more so than his lycanthropy ever did.

“Sirius maintains his innocence. Perhaps he was given the choice of his family or The Potters. I wish I knew. I wish I had the answers you need. Remus- you must promise me something.” Remus looked up at Minerva McGonagall and was met with tear filled eyes. “You’ll send me the occasional owl?” He nodded and she patted him on the shoulder.

The two remained silent until the sound of Hope’s laugh came closer and closer. The sound of Sirius echoed through the corridor. Moments later in walked Albus Dumbledore carrying the happy child along with him. In her hands were all sorts of treats the Headmaster had bestowed. He knew Remus’ mind could not be changed. He also agreed that it was for the best, for now. Remus watched as your face lit up and you reached for him.

“Come darling, it’s time to go home.”

“Remus.” Dumbledore stopped the tired looking man. “Remember- help will always be found at Hogwarts for those who need it.” Remus paused for a moment and nodded before heading out into the hallway. As he walked down the corridor with Hope in his arms listening to her chatter, there was one thing he felt certain about, he had no intention of bringing his niece back to Hogwarts. Perhaps he’d send her to a school abroad or he would teach her himself. His fear that the dark world that took your mother would take his Hope too.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter FanFiction #Harry Potter OC #Harry Potter Imagine #Sirius Black x Daughter #Sirius Black x Daughter OC #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin x Niece #Lupin Original Character #Black Original Character #Sirius Black x Daugther OC #Remus Lupin x Niece OC #Sirius Black x OC #Remus Lupin x Sister OC

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clareguilty · 4 years

Text

A Life Worth Living Part 4

Read it here on AO3

Charthur/Reader Rating: Explicit | Warnings for slight somnophilia Word Count: ~3300

The weather got hotter, and you took to sitting in the garden in just your chemise and watching shirtless Arthur and Charles work on the shed. They teased and preened under your attention, showing off and competing just to see you giggle and roll your eyes. You fanned yourself and pretended to turn your attention back to the mending.

The next time you glanced up, Charles was ruffling Arthur’s hair. He retaliated by smacking Charles’ ass. You then watched them grapple with each other until Arthur ultimately pushed them both to the ground. They rolled in the grass, laughing and jeering. Charles was very ticklish, you knew.

Setting down your needle and thread, you wandered over to judge the fight in case they needed you to declare a winner.

Arthur pinned Charles, distracting him with a heated kiss. They groped and pinched, uncaring that you stood not two feet away. Arms crossed and brow raised, you cleared your throat. Arthur was on his feet in a moment, dropping to a crouch and throwing your over his shoulders like you weighed nothing.

You shrieked and beat his back with your fists, calling for Charles to rescue you. Arthur spun a few times just to get your head spinning and dropped you on your feet. You took a few stumbling, dizzy steps only to be scooped up by Charles. He was not the valiant savior you had called for, tickling you and dropping to the earth with you in his lap.

“You two are insufferable,” you panted as you caught your breath.

“Insufferable?” Charles teased, “I think you mean ‘wonderful’.”

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes and let yourself be kissed until you were dizzy again.

The three of you didn’t even sleep inside that night, curling against each other on a quilt under the stars. And if you made it a point to take both Arthur and Charles in your mouth as they rested and enjoyed a bottle of whiskey? And if they let you finish off the bottle as they pulled your chemise from your shoulders?

You weren’t one to complain.

Your next trip to the station, you took the wagon. It was painfully slow, but you had ordered quite a lot.

Thankfully, Wyatt came down from the ranch to help you load everything up. You were surprised to see him holding something bundled in his jacket as he slipped off his horse.

“What do you got there?” you asked, craning your neck as if you would be able to see.

“Well,” he shuffled his feet nervously, “One of the hounds just had a litter recently, and Mister Holliday didn’t want nothing to do with the runt-”

“Oh,” you were already reaching for the pup. “Let me see him.”

He certainly was a runt. A tiny little thing. His fur was so soft, and you squealed in delight as he licked the salt from your palms. “He’s precious! I sure hope we can keep him!” You didn’t even hand the little thing back, cradling it close and stubbornly loading the wagon with just one arm. Wyatt chuckled and helped you with the heavier things.

“Do you need any help getting everything home?” He asked as he fastened the tailgate.

You considered for a moment. Arthur and Charles had left before dawn to go hunting, and you would have a hard time unloading everything by yourself. “You can ride along if you don’t have to be back at the ranch. I can fix you up some supper before you head back this way.”

“I’d be honored,” Wyatt tipped his hat. The two of you started back up to the house, you cradling the pup the entire way there.

Much to your surprise, Taima and Buell were out in front of the house when you returned.

“Huh,” you pursed your lips, “They must have come back early.”

You immediately worried if something had gone wrong. Was everything okay? It certainly wasn’t a good idea for Wyatt to be there if Charles and Arthur had found trouble. You knew they could get tense and intimidating.

“Looks like you may not need my help after all,” Wyatt noted.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be home. But I’ll still make sure you get a plate. You came all this way already.”

You glanced up at the sound of the door swinging shut. Arthur had stepped outside. He was glaring at Wyatt, rifle in hand.

“You know, Miss,” Wyatt’s voice shook, “I can always stop by for supper a different time.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry about him,” you shook your head. “He doesn’t take well to strangers.”

Wyatt was doing his best to put on a brave face, but you could see how white his knuckles were on the reins. You pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the house, scooping the puppy into the crook of your elbow as you climbed down.

“Put that gun away, Arthur,” you scolded him.

The door opened, and Charles slipped outside beside him. Arthur handed the rifle to Charles. If they weren’t your husbands, you would have broken down to tears with fear. They looked like killers.

“Arthur, Charles, this is Wyatt,” you gestured to your companion, still in the saddle. “He works down at Emerald Ranch and he helps me out sometimes at the station. He gave me a puppy!” You offered up the wrinkly lump of fur.

Both Arthur and Charles eyed the pup, unsure what to make of it. Neither had said a word, and you knew they wouldn’t budge until you had sent Wyatt away.

You approached his horse, taking his hand in yours. He snatched it away, eyeing your husbands warily. “I’m sorry about all of this,” you apologized earnestly, “I’ll talk to them and you can come by another time if you’d like. Can I get you anything from the house for your trouble?”

Wyatt shook his head quickly. “No, ma’am. I just remembered Mister Holliday needed me to take care of something this evening, so I’ll just head back to the ranch.”

“Ride safe.” You smiled weakly.

Poor Wyatt spurred his horse and flew out of the gates as quick as he could. You whirled on your husbands.

“I cannot believe you!” You stormed up to them, still cradling the pup in your arms. “Is that any way to treat a guest? The poor man will be too scared to ever come back to the house now!”

“Good,” Arthur huffed.

“Good?” You demanded. “Are you proud of yourself? Scaring one of my only friends?”

Charles squeezed Arthur’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper something to him. Arthur nodded.

“Why don’t you come inside, love?” Charles asked. “Arthur and I will unload the wagon.”

You stormed past them into the house, settling onto the sofa with the puppy. The poor thing fell asleep in your lap as soon as you were still. Arthur and Charles dutifully unloaded the wagon, speaking quietly the entire time.

“You’re back early,” you said once they were back inside putting things away. “Did something happen?”

“Everything’s fine,” Charles assured you. “We just wanted to be back at home. We had hoped to surprise you when you got back, but it seems like you surprised us.”

You frowned. “There was no reason to be rude. Wyatt was just coming to help me unload the wagon, and I was going to ask his advice on the garden.”

“You can’t blame us for wanting to keep you safe,” Arthur said. His brows were still pinched. “It’s even worse that you were planning on bringing him to the house alone. What if something had happened?”

“Nothing would have happened!” You pushed to your feet, letting the puppy rest on the couch. “Wyatt is my friend, and I should be allowed to have him over for supper if I want to.”

“I think he’s sweet on you,” Arthur said. He was trying to keep his voice down, but he was growing more frustrated. Charles was silent between you. If it came down to it, you figured he would probably take Arthur’s side.

“Do you not trust me?” your voice broke. It hurt you to think that Arthur and Charles wouldn’t believe you to make the right choice. They meant everything to you, and you thought you had shown them that.

Charles pulled you to him in an instant. “Oh, love. You know we trust you.” He smoothed a hand over your hair, holding you tight.

“Darling,” Arthur sighed. “You have to see why you can’t just bring strangers around here.”

“He’s not a stranger.” You frowned. Why couldn’t they see that Wyatt was your friend. “He’s kind and funny and he gave me a puppy. No one’s ever liked me enough to give me a puppy before.”

The three of you looked at the poor thing, sleeping soundly on it’s back, paws in the air.

“What if he’s just trying to use you? Who knows what he could want?” Arthur looked ready to start in again, but Charles cut him off.

“Arthur.” He said sternly. “You know as well as I do that she’s smart enough to make her own choices. If she trusts this boy, then we should too.”

“I wouldn’t call him a boy,” you said. “He can’t be much younger than you.”

“He’s a boy.” Arthur was still frowning. You wondered if he was still upset. Charles didn’t let you dwell on it, moving to the couch to pet and poke at the puppy.

“Can we keep him?” you asked. It probably wasn’t the best time to discuss taking in a dog, but you couldn’t bear to think of letting the poor thing out to die.

Charles considered it for a long moment. You heard Arthur sigh behind you.

“We can keep him,” Arthur said.

“Thank you!” You threw your arms around him, showering him in kisses. “We’ll have to name him.”

You spent the rest of the evening setting out a place for the puppy and debating names. By the time you were ready for bed, you still hadn't decided on one.

Arthur pulled you to him the second you laid down, trapping you against his chest with a strong arm. He trailed kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, and your stomach flipped in anticipation, but he was asleep not a few minutes later.

Charles laughed and kissed you goodnight as well. You normally slept closer to him, but there was no escaping Arthur's hold on you.

You curled against Arthur as close as possible, pressing a kiss to his collarbone and drifting off after him.

Something felt good. Very good. A familiar heat pulsing between your legs, mind hazy -- just coming out of a dream. You felt around with your hand. Arthur was still holding you; Charles was still laying nearby.

You cracked one eye open. Charles was watching you, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Arthur!” you gasped as he slid another finger inside you. It was a stretch. “Oh,” you arched your back as he curled his fingers just right inside of you.

He kissed your neck, brushing your hair aside. “Sorry to wake you like this, darling. I just needed you so bad.”

You were having trouble collecting your thoughts, already high off of pleasure when you’d only been awake a few moments. “It’s- it’s okay. Unexpected, but -- OH! -- okay.”

Somehow, while you were asleep, Arthur had managed to slip three fingers inside you. You knew you were a deep sleeper, but you didn’t think you would have been able to miss something like that. You were soaked, and you wondered how long you had been asleep since he started touching you.

His name fell from your lips over and over. You were so full and stretched but you ached for more, anything he would give you.

“You’re mine,” he groaned, grinding against your ass. “Ours. All ours.”

“All yours,” you agreed. You reached for Charles, and he crashed his lips to yours, cupping your jaw and growling against you.

It was great, but you couldn’t tell where all this was coming from. They were both so riled up and desperate. You pushed Charles away and grabbed Arthur’s wrist to still his fingers.

“What has gotten into you two?” you demanded. You didn’t mind going down this road but you needed some explanation.

Arthur was still clinging to you tightly, so you looked to Charles for answers. He avoided your eyes. It was a moment before he finally admitted the truth. “We’re….” He took your hand in his. “We trust you. We do. But the thought of that boy -- if he had hurt you.”

You wanted to be angry again. You had been over this already, and Wyatt didn’t deserve this. But you could see that wasn’t what they needed. Besides, Arthur still had his hands between your legs. You brought Charles’ hand to your lips. “I’m here. I’m safe. I’m yours,” you promised him.

Arthur started sucking a mark into your neck, eager to finish what he started. “We want to take you,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Both of us.”

You had talked about it before. Having both of them at once. It was something you desperately wanted to try. If Arthur’s feverish enthusiasm and the tension in Charles’ shoulders was any indication, they wanted it just as badly.

“Alright,” you nodded, lust and determination soaring within you. Both of them hesitated only a moment. Arthur moved you so that he could more comfortably reach to finger you. Charles pulled your nightshirt off and went straight for your breasts. They were patient, eager, but patient.

It was slow going. You couldn’t do much more than take it as Arthur carefully worked you open around his fingers. The stretch was more than you were used to, and you knew you would be sore tomorrow. But it would all be worth it for this.

Tender kisses. Encouraging whispers. Charles was so careful, making sure Arthur didn’t push you too quickly, grabbing the pot of balm from the bedside, rearranging the bedding for you.

“I think I’m ready,” you gasped. You had taken Arthur and Charles separately on many occasions. Surely you would know what it took to take both of them?

Their combined strength was always breathtaking. They held you between them, legs wrapped around Charles’ waist as Arthur supported you from behind. “You gotta tell us if it’s too much,” he warned you.

He teased his cock at your entrance before sinking to the hilt easily. He still growled and cursed, and your head fell back on his shoulder. A moment to adjust, and then Charles was nuzzling against your jaw.

“I love you,” he said. He had slicked his cock even more than Arthur. The first push made you cry out, but Arthur calmed you. He always had a way of keeping you grounded.

Charles moved again, and you nearly toppled out of their arms as you cried. Arthur pinned you beneath him, whispering reassurance.

“It’s okay,” Charles stroked your hair. “We can try again later. Or we can try another way.”

“No,” you pushed back. “I can do it. Let’s try one more time.”

Arthur and Charles exchanged a wary look, but they conceded. This time, you gripped Arthur’s arms. Charles was hesitant, but he pressed the tip of his cock against where Arthur was already inside you.

It was overwhelming, painful but not unbearably so. Charles moved slowly, so slowly. You didn’t even register the whimpers and moans escaping you, so lost in the sensation of being taken by both of your husbands.

“Fuck,” Charles hissed as his hips met yours. “You’re wonderful.” He looked dazed, just as overwhelmed as you.

Somewhere in the pleasure, you registered Arthur and Charles talking. They were talking about you, about how good you felt, about how much they loved you. The words swirled about you, echoing in your mind as Arthur began to move.

It was more than you could have imagined. They were slow, careful at first, but they began to move faster once they knew you were able to take it. Drunk on lust and overwhelmed in a way you had never known before.

Arthur leaned forward over your shoulder to kiss Charles, and you came undone. It was the most blinding climax you had experienced. Arthur’s grip on your thighs kept you up, pinned between the two of them as they only fucked you harder.

Charles came first. You barely registered it, lost in every other sensation. He pulled out and all but collapsed back onto the bed. Arthur held you still and lowered himself onto his back, continuing to thrust into you. He pulled you deeper onto his cock, hips snapping against yours as he came.

It was too much. You were too far gone. Arthur pulled out of you and carefully laid you on the bed. He and Charles embraced, checking in with each other before immediately turning to you. Your knees fell wide and you felt both Arthur’s and Charles’ combined seed spill out of you.

“Fuck,” Charles cursed at the sight. He dragged you to him and captured your mouth with his. You did the best you could to kiss back, still shaky and dazed.

“I’m tired,” you moaned. Soreness was already beginning to set in, and your skin felt cold after so long trapped between Charles and Arthur.

“I know, darling,” Arthur cupped your cheek gently. “You did so good for us. We love you so much.” He moved you carefully, holding you so Charles could clean up. A blanket surrounded you, and you were tucked carefully back into the bed. Two pairs of lips brushed your forehead.

Morning brought soreness, and more exhaustion. Arthur was in bed with you, journal in his lap with his left hand laced with yours. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

You groaned and burrowed against his side.

“If you need anything, just let us know.” He smoothed a hand over your hair.

“What did you draw?” You tried to peek at his journal, but he hid the page from your view. “Is it me? Is it us?”

He flushed, glancing nervously between your grin and his sketch. You prodded at his side until he relented.

It was the three of you. You and Charles drawn in excruciating detail, Arthur less so. You were between them, as you had been the night before, head thrown back against Arthur’s shoulder in ecstasy. It was a tangle of limbs, carefully mapped out in graphite.

“It’s beautiful.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “You and Charles liked it?”

“Liked it?” He balked. “Darling, it’s all we’ll be able to think about for weeks.”

“Good.” You flopped back onto the bed. “Because it’s going to be weeks before I can attempt anything like that again.”

Arthur laughed, eyes crinkling as he took your hand in his once more. “We’ll take anything you’ll give to us. Don’t worry.”

Charles brought you food and tea with honey and mint. There was no way you were getting out of bed for a few more hours. You didn’t mind the soreness, though -- not when Arthur and Charles were there to care for you.

"How is the puppy?" you asked the second you saw him.

"He's fine. He cries a little bit, but he should be just fine. I can go get him if you want?" You nodded, and Charles went to go fetch the puppy.

"He needs a name," Arthur said, rubbing his chin in consideration.

"What are you thinking?"

"Ace? Buckley? King?" He shrugged. "That's about all I could come up with."

"I like Buckley," You nodded, already in love with the name. Charles had returned, setting the dog in your lap where he stumbled over the blankets and sniffed at your fingers. "What do you think, Charles?"

"Buckley's good."

"Our little Buck." You scratched behind his soft, floppy ears. "Welcome to the family."

Part 5

#a life worth living #charles smith/reader #charles smith x reader #Charles Smith #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan/charles smith/reader #charles smith/arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan/charles smith #smut #lemons #rdr2 fanfic

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ffxiv-ariavitali · 4 years

Text

XI: Stay

[MAJOR 5.3 SPOILERS] BELOW THE CUT. LIKE, IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE CUT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

On the topic of love: Aria Vitali and G’raha Tia | Crystal Exarch

1896 words

AO3 ver.

“I concede, I may have overexerted myself.”

Aria peered down with wide eyes as the Exarch’s body was threateningly close to becoming encased in crystal, a desperation thrumming within her chest alongside panic and pain.

“Steady now and listen.”

The buzzing only grew louder within her mind, for how could she stay steady and how could she just listen when he was about to be taken away from her? Were it not for the reassuring smile that he had given him, the self-same smile that she had seen as he was about to enter into slumber within the Crystal Tower, she would have thrown a fit—a frantic fit amidst fear and hurt.

“We have won, my friend.”

And yet, I am to lose you a second time, is what the woman wanted to scream, to shout, for it certainly seemed to be the case. They say that victory cannot be won without sacrifices and, throughout the years, there are three that remained so hard-hitting within her heart; he was one of them.

“So I hope you’ll forgive me this moment of selfishness. And...while I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged…”

When Aria and the Exarch looked towards each other, a mutual and silent understanding of the emotions going through one another, it was at this that they reached out for each other’s hand. Aria didn’t know whether it was artificial comfort for him, being covered in crystal and all, but it did well to soothe the ache within her own heart. For she didn’t think she could go on with the way he looked at her and she knew she was doing the same to him.

“Promise me you’ll take me on your next adventure. A journey. Together. That’s all I ask.”

With these words, the woman couldn’t prevent the stream of tears flowing from her amethyst eyes. She wanted to be strong for him in this moment of weakness and vulnerability, but she couldn’t hold back this time. Not this time.

“You could have asked me earlier…!” she exclaimed through the tears with a smile.

Her words certainly caught the man off guard, for he released a helpless chuckle in response, a memory of his youth emerging from when she said the exact same thing to him after he whined about her not taking him with her to Mor Dhona.

“If I were to tell you that isn’t the end—that we will meet again—would you believe me?”

As Aria allowed the gears to turn in her head, she finally understood the meaning behind his words, behind his nonchalance. It was so like him, she thought, to leave her so worried and hanging for so long. It was so like him...that she couldn’t help but nod helplessly in response as she reached out and presented him with the vessel he had fashioned for himself. The same vessel he was going to use as a test before he allowed the others to try it for themselves.

With a ‘thank you’ did he place his crystalline hand on top of hers, atop the vessel, with a broken voice and there was a spark that was shared between the two like-minded individuals, the two connected individuals bound together by the red string of fate.

When that was finished, the Hyuran woman watched the Miqo’te pull up his hood and struggle to his feet. All the while saying:

“My friend. With you, my mind and memories shall travel to the ends of the world and beyond. But in this place shall my body stand immovable.”

She watched as he stepped closer towards the throne before straightening his back to stand tall. She could only listen as he continued his words to her:

“May it serve as an undying promise, not only to those who looked to me for leadership, but to any soul who has known despair, that hope is everlasting.”

It was in these words that Aria slowly followed, raising up the vessel to his once more, and as it began to glow in attunement as he began the test, she felt warmth beginning to emanate from the vessel itself. The warmth of his soul growing slowly as he went on with the process, undoubtedly leaving behind a cold statue in his wake in light of his merge with the Tower—his price to pay.

Yet, he smiled.

He smiled as he, in the end, became nothing more than a crystallized husk of the Crystal Exarch, standing proud and tall before Xande’s seat of honor. He smiled as Aria did the same, for saying goodbye with a smile was what she had learned to do after all these years.

When he had become completely engulfed and she had heard the Scions’ footsteps approaching from behind, Aria allowed herself to feel the grief that she had held back as she brought the glowing vessel filled with his soul closer to her person. She allowed herself to embrace it as if her life depended on it as she fell to her knees to weep. Even when she knew her comrades were watching, she released the pitiful screams and wails that reverberated from her entire body as her figure shook. As the tears fell. As her heart was torn and mended and torn yet again.

Though, only half of her was wallowing in her grief.

Indeed, for the other was cheering from every corner of heart, mind and spirit.

Your dream came true, Raha…! It would cry out in such utter pride and joy. You were the hero that you have always dreamt of being!

With this part, she hoped and prayed that the theories held true. She trusted her bestest friend, her closest friend, with the words that he had given her. She will trust his hope…

...for he is her hope.

❅ ❅ ❅

Upon the final hour of departure, Aria watched as her comrades underwent the same process that he had before his last breath.

She waited and prayed to the Twelve that the theories would hold true.

She prayed as she collected the vessels together and put them away in her bag.

She prayed and she prayed as she took a deep breath…

...and crossed the portal to the Source.

❅ ❅ ❅

Aria was quick to rush Krile and Tataru into Dawn’s Respite. She was quick to lay out the vessels accordingly, corresponding to each one of her friends. It wasn’t at all too long until the soul and body began reaching out to one another, began attuning to one another, and returned that which belonged.

Alisaie was the first, followed by Thancred. Then, it was Y’shtola, Urianger and Alphinaud, each awakening and sitting up bit by bit. Aria was grateful, relieved and all manner of other emotions that she couldn’t put into exact words for there were no words that could describe just how thankful and blessed she was that the process was successful.

Then, Y’shtola bade her:

“...I doubt any of us will be fit to travel for some while. May we leave the rest to you?”

Aria stared at the woman, the woman that had first found her back when she had begun her adventuring days in Limsa Lominsa, and understood immediately what she had meant. Her eyes widened, baffled that the topic would even be brought up when they had only recently returned. It is only with Urianger’s reassurances that she allowed herself to do what she wanted immediately:

“The vessel beareth our comrade’s blood. With it in thy possession, the way will surely open before thee.”

So, the woman ran. Exhausted as she was, she ran all the way from Mor Dhona, forgetting that she had her chocobo and mounts alike, and just ran. Ran to the ferry that went between the edge of the lake to Syrcus Trench, ran from the landing towards the doors of the Crystal Tower.

As she ran, she heard the familiar ringing of rock landing on rock and when she peered over her shoulder to see what it was, she found the crystal—the constellation stone belonging to the seat of Azem, the Fourteenth member of the Convocation.

Aria remembered Hythlodeus’ words as she stepped towards the crystal to retrieve it, holding it close. She remembered him. She remembered Hades. She will continue to live to keep the promise, in memory of those that were lost and left behind.

With this in mind, she turned once more to the doors, presented the vessel and waited patiently as the ward diminished, unlocking the gates. The doors opened easily and she could feel the vessel pulsating warmth from her hand. Surely, his soul was crying out to his body, the body of this world’s version of himself. He was as eager as she was, that’s for certain.

Eager to greet him with a ‘good morning.’

❅ ❅ ❅

Some days later, the Scions were speaking amongst themselves on the balcony of Rowena’s House of Splendors. They noticed Aria and Krile’s return when the Lalafellin woman had released cries of exhaustion and made a beeline for the closest seat at the twins’ table. They saw the way Aria eyed her with immense gratitude and respect before turning to the others to greet them.

“By Mistress Krile’s exhausted state, may I assume that the ward hath been restored?” Urianger then asked.

Aria could only smile at him as she turned towards the catwalk leading to the open balcony, towards an approaching figure so shy and humble. She smiled at the man as he explained the success in restoring the ward to the Crystal Tower, once again locking it away so that its infinite energies can’t be misused for evil deeds. She watched and she smiled with immense pride, such immense pride.

“Said duty thus discharged, thou art free to go wheresoever thy fancy taketh thee,” Urianger then exclaimed with relief. “Upon which note—hast thou perchance come to a decision? The offer remaineth open.”

Aria turned to eagerly await the man’s answer, her eyes sparkling even against the glints of sunlight reflecting from the amethyst hue, and when he stammered over his words—completely and utterly unsure of himself for this briefest of moments—Aria’s smile widened as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Raha, really,” she interjected.

The Scions saw how her words affected the man, his ears perking up and his tail swaying restlessly behind him. Thus did he straighten his back, gathering his courage, and painted a smile over his own face.

“I accept,” G’raha Tia responded to Urianger’s inquiry earnestly. “Henceforth, I shall count myself a Scion of the Seventh Dawn. G’raha Tia, at your service.”

After his introduction, after he had descended the few steps to join them, the Scions watched as Aria could no longer help herself as she jumped towards him, wrapping her arms tight around his figure. Her cheeks were flushed a bright shade of red, matching his eyes, as the Miqo’te flustered, unsure of how to respond.

“I...am so glad,” Aria whispered quietly so only he could hear. “I am glad that you are here to stay.”

G’raha blinked in surprise before he smiled and returned her embrace. Indeed, he was here to stay—the place being right by the side of his inspiration. For wherever she chooses to go, fate is sure to follow. Hope is sure to follow.

His love is sure to follow.

#ffxiv writing #aria vitali #g'raha tia #crystal exarch #y'shtola rhul #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #urianger augurelt #thancred waters #tataru taru #krile mayer baldesion #seaswolchallenge #patch 5.3 #ffxiv spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #ffxiv 5.3 spoilers #ffxiv patch 5.3 spoilers

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detectivedreameater · 3 years

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Help, I’m Alive || Evelyn and Marley

TIMING: About a week ago PARTIES: @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Marley needs help feeding and Evelyn is there to offer her support. The unspoken questions between them continue to fester. CONTENT: Head trauma, head injury mention

This was pathetic. Marley stared at her hands in her lap and tried her hardest to concentrate on them. Her abilities were failing her. She couldn’t even get herself to turn fully intangible anymore, feeling her own body flicker in and out of existence when she tried. It was why she couldn’t feed. And she was suffering for it. Aching and weary and exhausted, she’d finally had to give in. She wasn’t going to just let herself starve, and she wasn’t going to take it from people who she cared about. Or, well, used to care about. The one lesson that had remained in tact from this entire experience was that Marley was not cut out to care about other people. Evelyn was only an exception because of her species. She had to keep telling herself that. It was the only way she was going to make it through any of this with any ounce of sanity. Finally, there was a knock on the door, and Marley rose far too quickly, still forgetting the state of her head. The world swirled for a moment, before she blinked and came back to herself enough to walk over to the door, slowly, and open it. “You made it,” she said and an unconscious smile fell on her face, “thanks for coming.”

Marley needed her, and Evelyn couldn’t refuse her - didn’t wish to, either. Whatever worries that were possibly present in the back of her mind about the mara who had visited Alain could be allayed at least until she knew Marley was safe. Perhaps after that, she’d poke around -- even if it wasn’t Marley (and she didn’t want to assume), perhaps Marley knew who might have done that. She knocked on Marley’s door, carefully arranging her hair, tucking a few loose strands behind her ears. “Of course. I would have done this countless times before.” She shrugged off her riding jacket as she entered Marley’s home, folding it over her arm. “I will admit this is not an aspect of our skills that I have a significant level of experience with, but I will admit that my recent feedings resulted in especially delightful fears. Where should we go? Your room? We can also just as easily do it in any free space you have. I just do not believe that the middle of the entryway is the very best location.” She grinned. “Despite the circumstances, it is lovely to see you.” I missed you, she wanted to say, but held off.

It was nice to know she could seemingly pass as being alright. Marley tried her best to make herself look okay, and it was both a boon and bane that the injury plaguing her was as invisible as she could get at night. Maybe it was karma or something. Still, the relief she felt when she saw Evelyn wasn’t something she could hide. She let Evelyn step inside and remove her jacket before she reached for her, tentatively at first, and wrapped her arms around the other woman. Too much had been lost, she wasn’t sure she could’ve bared having to lose her, too. The things Marley’s mind chose to cling to were strange to her, but right now, she couldn’t think about it. Right now, she needed Evelyn. “My room is fine,” she said, taking her jacket from her gently and hanging it up on the stand next to the door. Tugged on her hand. “It’s nice to see you, too,” she said, giving as much of a smile as she could muster for the moment. “It’s been too long. I...sorry. I didn’t mean for time to get away from me like that.” Or at all, really. But not talking to Evelyn meant she was stowed away in a safe place where Roy and his goonies couldn’t touch her. Now that that was over, however, Marley didn’t know where her hesitation lay.

Marley was hugging her - or at least some sort of facsimile of a hug, Evelyn still didn’t quite know how to grasp the idea of physical affection - for it was something that her father had rarely afforded her, and something she rarely sought out in others outside of spending the night with them. Cecily’s nightmares were a stinging reminder of how she and her father did have more similarities than she would have ever preferred to admit, and that she did still push down. Especially now, when there were far more important things to focus on. “Okay.” Evelyn replied, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.” She let Marley take her jacket and nodded. Gave the other woman’s hand a small squeeze, nodding. “It is alright. Just so long as you are still here for me.” I cannot lose you, and perhaps that was why finding out who she fed on was less important now, if only because she knew that the last time the two of them had had even part of a confrontation about that - back with Nadia - it was more of a lecture than anything else, though Evelyn couldn’t fault Marley for that. Maybe sometime later, she assured herself. When you and she are all good and better, maybe then you can have more of a discussion. She followed Marley over to her room. “So I know this will not be the same rush that you get when you properly feed, but it will do something. I can give you all that I am able. How does - is that quite alright?”

Marley led Evelyn out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up to her bedroom. JD scurried from off the bed and into the bathroom but she paid no mind to him, tugging Evelyn over. “I--” she started, blinking heavily, then furrowed her brow, “I want to be. But I don’t know...when I’ll be able to yet. My head is still…” she licked her lips, glanced at Evelyn. She hated the shame in having to ask for this, in having to rely on someone else. Motioned for her to sit on the bed with her. “It’s okay, I don’t need a lot, I just need--” something, anything. Her body felt as if it were withering and her hands shook with a greater tremor than before. “I just need a little.” She wasn’t even sure how this happened, how this worked. She’d never needed it back when she’d lived with the other mara, and she’d never known another mara since. Held out her hands. “Thank you,” she said again, quieter this time. Smaller.

She let Marley guide her, let her friend be in control. It was easier to do, given the trust she placed in her. Evelyn eyed Marley’s pet for a moment, her mind flashing back to when she’d had a horse as a child because that was what normal little girls did, before she swallowed the lump in her throat and refocused back on what Marley was saying. “I understand. Or at least I work to understand as much as I am able.” She moved to sit down next to Marley and adjusted her breathing. “I will give you anything I can.” She took Marley’s hands in her own. “You do not have to thank me, but you are welcome, of course. I think - I think just touching you should do the trick. I know that mara who have children can give some of the fear to them - I never experienced this, but I have been told as such. I have never had the chance to do it for anyone else.”

“Well,” Marley swallowed, feeling the weariness still gripping her bones, “there’s a first time for everything, right?” She took Evelyn’s hands-- they were so much different than Anita’s and Lydia’s, they felt somehow bigger but smoother. Anita’s hands were always cold and Marley had always enjoyed holding them between hers and warming them. Lydia’s hands were small and gentle but always had such a warmth to them that felt so reassuring. Evelyn’s hands were almost just like Marley’s, unsure and wavering, trying to decide where to land. She looked up at her and nodded, squeezing to give a small reassurance. “Okay,” she breathed, “I’m ready.”

“Yes, I suppose there is.” She ran her thumb against Marley’s hand, her delicate fingertips and touch doing what little she could to help reassure Marley. Evelyn took a free hand and brushed it through Marley’s hair before pressing her hand - her fingers - against Marley’s temple, gentle and yet firm all the same. “I - does this work?” She did her best to concentrate the feeling of feeding on Cecily, the utter pleasure that came along with seeing what the older woman feared. “I can give you a bit, I wish I could do more.” She sat there silently for a moment, concentrating her energy as best as she was able. I wish my mother could see this, was all she thought. Or Melanie. “How are you feeling? I am not done, but how is it so far?”

Evelyn’s fingers felt nice. They felt nice against her hand and nice brushing through her hair, against her head. As soon as she touched her temple and concentrated, Marley could feel it. The rush of fear that swelled into her from Evelyn’s hand. It started filling up all the empty spaces in her chest where she felt starved and broken. It didn’t mend anything, it didn’t make her mind feel better, or her pain lessened, but it made her heart stop pounding and her abdomen stop clenching. The relief was palpable. “It works,” she breathed, “it’s working. I’m feeling better, thank you,” she reached up and squeezed Evelyn’s hand, “thank you. I-- if you can keep going…” She needed more. She needed to be fixed more, feel less broken. She wanted to stop aching.

She wished she could have done this for Melanie, Evelyn found herself thinking. She would do this, if she ever had children but she doubted that she would - and moreover, she wasn’t sure if she did want children. They’d be lesser mara because of her to begin with, and if she didn’t have them with a mara, then it would be even worse. She pushed the thought out of her mind, instead focusing on Marley. That was why she was here and that was what mattered right now. “Good. I am glad - you,” she squeezed Marley’s hand back, still managing to be feather-light with her touches. “Yes, I can. I cannot do so much, I do not think our bodies allow for that, but I will give you all I can, alright?” She leaned into it, closing her eyes, concentrating. “You know I will do anything for you.”

“I know,” Marley replied, her voice strained, “I just need--” to feel okay, in some capacity. In any way possible-- “a little more.” Evelyn’s words ricocheted in her head. Why had so many people come to care about Marley? She’d used every single one of them. From Erin to Anita to Evelyn. Even Lydia. Even Jane. That’s all she ever did, that was the only person she knew how to be. Relationships of any kind were too risky when you were all alone. They were only worth it if she got something out of it, something beneficial to her. So why had things changed here? What did she get from pledging loyalty to Erin? Or admitting she needed Anita? Or that she wanted Lydia’s help? What did she gain from any of these confessions? These relationships? What did she even gain from holding Evelyn on the line? Marley stiffened and pulled away. “It’s enough,” she said quietly, “that’s enough.”

“I know.” She shook her head, eyes raised to meet Marley’s in an unspoken understanding. Evelyn shifted her position, moving closer to Marley. Even if the idea of being close with someone was terrifying, she’d begun to find it to be a certain level of comforting. She just knew that she had to help Marley - in part because they were both mara, but in part because if Marley was in pain, she deserved to be helped. “Okay.” She sat up, back stiff - perfect posture, one thing that had been drilled into her mind and something she’d yet to break, at least not really. “How are you feeling now?”

It was over too soon and suddenly the empty spaces in Marley were cold again, no longer filled with the warmth of Evelyn’s energy. But she drew herself back in, licked her lips, and nodded. “I’m better,” she said softly, which was true. She no longer ached with hunger, but nothing had been changed about the severed cracks in her mind. She sat up, leaning away. She didn’t know what she needed now, but she didn’t want Evelyn to leave. Not yet. “Thank you. I really owe you for this one,” she finally said, giving her a ghost of a smile and reaching over to squeeze her hand. The world felt quiet again. Her head ached.

“Good,” Evelyn responded, somewhat unsure where exactly to place her hands now that they weren’t brushing through Marley’s hair or carefully placed on her forehead. She settled on laying them in her lap, palms up, fingers gently moving through the air. “You really do not. I - I am glad you trusted me to do this. It means a lot that - well, that you would let me help you.” As Marley reached out for her hand Evelyn could feel herself relax again. She squeezed Marley’s hand back, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. “I can stay, if you would like. I - I just have to let someone know, but if that would make you feel safer, I would be happy to.”

“No, it’s-- you don’t have to stay,” Marley said, feeling something creeping up inside of her that she wasn’t quite sure how to describe. It made her arms tingle and her mouth feel dry. Swallowing, she looked back at Evelyn. “I know I don’t have to repay you, but I want to. If you ever need anything, anything at all...just let me know.” And it was a promise she hoped she could keep, but worried she couldn’t. It sat in the pit of her stomach like a pound of bricks and she shifted uncomfortably. “But if you want to stay, you can.” And did she want her to? Did Evelyn want to? Marley couldn’t tell anymore. Everything had been messed up once her mind was taken from her, and she still didn’t know how to find any part of it. “I wouldn’t...mind.”

“You do not have to.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, settling against the bed, “but fine, if you do insist, I will think of something at some point.” Her mind travelled to Melanie once again, to how much she still longed to find her killer. To bring her to some semblance of justice. She didn’t know how to go about that and if she wanted any help with that. “Yes, I can stay.” She let her smile grow. She’d let Miriam know, and she’d stay. If nothing else than to make sure that Marley didn’t suffer any more for this evening. It was the least that she could do, in the end.

“I just want you to know this isn’t one-sided,” Marley answered quickly, swallowing. God, she was tired. So tired. She rubbed her head again, blinking heavily. “That I’m in this for you, too.” At least, as much as she could be right now, which wasn’t much. It wasn’t much for anyone, though. Not even herself. She shifted slightly, standing up and holding her hand out for Evelyn. When they’d first met, all Marley had wanted from her was to make her understand her side, that other mara were the ones that were wrong-- now all she wanted was to be understood herself. She didn’t know how to even begin explaining that to the other woman, but she knew, one day, she would need to. Her hand closed around Evelyn’s. “Come on,” she mumbled, “we can watch a movie or something.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #help i'm alive #chatzy: evelyn #evelyn #tw head trauma

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kindofcashton · 4 years

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𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 11 (Calum Hood AU)

THE NEXT MORNING was spent consoling Hannah. She hadn’t heard from Ashton since the big blow up, which left her distraught. Whenever they fought before, they always called or texted to let each other know everything was gonna be okay. But Ashton was radio silent, and so it was my job to make sure my teary-eyed, emotionally wrecked best friend would be okay.

“Michael didn’t even look at me before he left,” she sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes and pouting. I winced; this fight had been huge, and spilled over into everyone else in the house. I could tell Michael was feeling a little betrayed himself, and Luke probably shared similar thoughts. Calum, of course, I had no idea about. I only hoped they all wouldn’t hold a grudge against Hannah and make things even harder for her.

“He’ll get over it, Han,” I promised her. “Trust me. Once this all blows over you’ll be stronger than ever.” She shook her head, eyes cloudy and filled with misery.

“I don’t know, Scarlett,” she said in a weak voice. “It’s really bad.” I bit my lip, unsure of what else to say. I didn’t want to lie and say it wasn’t bad, because lying would help no one. But I also didn’t believe this was the end of her relationship with Ashton. They could mend the broken bridges between them, if only he was willing to try. I think time was the only remedy needed, and once enough time passed things could start improving.

We were joined at that moment by Calum. I avoided his eyes, still wildly confused about how to feel after last night. He’d shown a deep understanding that he’d never displayed before, and it stunned me. I thought Calum of all people would relish the opportunity to expose and humiliate me, but instead he chose to respect my plea for distance. As he sat down next to me, I felt the heat of his body so close to mine and shifted uncomfortably.

But apparently he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable at all, because there was a relaxed smirk on his face. He nudged his box of frosted cereal towards me. “Here, have some since I know you’d just steal it later.” His tone was jovial, causing me to finally meet his gaze. It was light and innocent, making my brows raise in disbelief.

I took the box and gladly dug my hand in, enjoying the sickly sweet cereal as Hannah distractedly scrolled through her phone. Calum shuddered beside me.

“I don’t know how you eat it dry,” he told me, pouring milk into his bowl. I wrinkled my nose.

“Because soggy cereal is disgusting, that’s why.” My expression was coy as I took another handful, and he rolled his eyes. I liked the way we could play off each other and actually joke around, the usual tension missing for some reason. I figured last night probably had something to do with it, but if this was the new normal I was completely on board.

Hannah looked up from her phone. “Do you have work today?” she asked. “I was wondering if we could spend the day watching bad movies and eating unhealthy food.”

I pursed my lips. “Actually, yeah, in an hour. But later we can totally--”

“No, no.” She waved her hand, heaving a sigh and staring off into the distance. “Maybe a little solitude would be good for me. I’m way too codependent.”

I frowned. “Hannah--”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true, Scarlett, we both know it is. I’m overly dependent on people and you’re obsessed with fixing them. We both have flaws.” I blushed a deep red as she exposed our relationship problems. I felt Calum’s hand still above his bowl as he listened, and I suppressed a grimace. He had definitely began figuring out just how much I liked to fix things, how I obsessed over little details until I thought it was perfect.

Hannah pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, shoulders sagging and face crestfallen. “I think I’m gonna wallow downstairs all day. You’re welcome to join in the fun, Calum.” He gave her a small smile as she trudged towards the basement door, and when she finally disappeared downstairs I let out a sigh.

Calum pushed the cereal around in his bowl, frowning thoughtfully. “You think she’s gonna be okay?” His question was sincere, and I could detect behind the words just how much he cared for her.

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I shrugged. “I hope so. She’s been through a lot of shit recently, and I’d hate to see Ashton abandon her over it.” I briefly panicked that I had gone too far, made it seem like Ashton was entirely in the wrong. But if Calum thought this, he didn’t show it. Instead he just nodded, finishing his cereal quietly.

I checked the clock on the wall. “I ought to get ready, I have a bus to catch.” I closed the cereal box and began to get up, but then Calum reached out his arm to stall me.

“Why don’t I drive you? I have nothing better to do, and you’re probably really tired of riding that dingy bus.”

My lips parted in surprise, but his expression was earnest. I blinked a few times, at a loss for words. He merely rolled his eyes and stood up beside me, leaning in close as he said, “What, I’m not allowed to be nice?” His breath was warm and I felt my body tense up at the proximity of his face. But then he pulled away with a smirk to put his bowl in the sink. I exhaled, fidgeting a little as I considered his offer.

“Fine,” I accepted. “But you better be picking me up, too.” I quirked my lips up challengingly, and he chuckled at the counter.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he replied. I smiled before turning to head upstairs, thoroughly confused but pleasantly surprised. I told myself it was only because I didn’t have to catch the bus, not because a certain curly-haired boy was finally being nice to me.

I got ready fast and joined Calum by the front door, following him out to his car. It was another beautiful day weather wise, and I sighed happily as we climbed into his mustang.

“You better not complain about my music,” he warned as he put an old-fashioned tape into the cassette player. The car was vintage and had all the old features, something I found charming and very much in character with the owner. Soft guitar sounds drifted out, and I vaguely recognized the band. I didn’t say a word as we drove off, enjoying the way the music seemed to match our peaceful mood.

I was almost disappointed when we arrived at the cafe, wishing I could keep driving for hundreds of miles with just Calum and his music and the comfortable quiet. But this was reality, and I thanked him quickly for the ride before heading in.

Mack had realized a few weeks ago how well Roger and I worked together, and decided to schedule us with the same shifts since we had similar availability. This meant seeing him every time I worked, something the two of us were definitely fine with.

“Did I see you climbing out of a cherry red sex mobile this morning?” he asked innocently, and I choked on the water I was sipping.

“If you mean Calum’s mustang, then yes,” I told him, rolling my eyes at his insinuation. “He offered me a ride, how could I have said no?”

Roger smiled evilly. “I know a perfect way you can thank him,” he said, batting his eyelashes. I flipped him off with a laugh, trying not to imagine all the possibilities he had in his head. They were surely all dirty and seductive, and thinking about Calum in a dirty and seductive way was not going to help me do my job.

It was a quicker shift today, ending in the early afternoon. When I had about a half hour left, I began wondering what Calum was up to all day. I always wondered this; he didn’t have a job, didn’t go to school. What did he do all day? Where did he go? Did he have other friends, a different life away from us? I could tell he was full of secrets, and my mind drifted to what they could all be when the front door opened.

“No way,” Roger whispered, causing me to snap out of my daydreaming. Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Scarlett,” Calum greeted when he walked up the counter. His smirk was cool and his eyes were hooded, and I bit my lip. “Thought I’d try some of this coffee your always screwing up.”

I scoffed, and Roger shook his head as he butted into our conversation. “Oh no, she hasn’t screwed up an order all day. I want to see how long it will last.”

“Hey!” I protested, smacking his arm. “I didn’t mess anything up yesterday, either.”

Roger narrowed his eyes. “Debatable. The amount of whipped cream you put on that poor man’s hot chocolate yesterday was almost criminal.”

I folded my arms at him. “You can never have too much whipped cream, Roger.” He just flipped me off and got back to cleaning the display case. Turning back to Calum, I flushed. Having him here was overwhelming; he’d stepped into a part of my life that was entirely my own, and I almost felt like he was invading my privacy.

“Do you know what you want? Should I recommend stuff?” I didn’t know why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, trying to tell myself it wasn’t because of the deep brown eyes studying me so intently.

“I like the sound of that whipped cream,” he started. “Why don’t you pile it on top of a mocha.” I nodded, punching in his order and accepting his cash with a small smile. He went to sit at a table by the window, and I forced myself not to stare as I focused on his drink.

I’d made a hundred mochas by now, but this one I really wanted to get right. I made sure to add the perfect amount of steamed milk, and tried way too hard to make the whipped cream swirl as even as possible. Roger watched me work, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“You sure this is the drink that’ll get you in his pants?” I almost threw the hot coffee on his face, fighting a smile at his stupid jokes. I approached the counter and called Calum’s name, presenting the mocha proudly.

“I hope this is satisfactory,” I said as he took the mug and raised it in a mock cheer. I was slightly disappointed when he sat back down without saying anything, but pushed this feeling aside as I finished my shift.

Calum was waiting for me when Roger and I emerged from the back room after clocking out. My smile was shy and I hooked my bag over my shoulder nervously. But Calum’s smirk was oddly comforting, and he held the door for me.

“I thought we’d make a quick pit-stop at the grocery store for more beer,” he informed me, and I knitted my brows together.

“Didn’t you just get beer yesterday?”

“It was only a six-pack,” he defended with a laugh. “And besides, the guys all needed one after the blow up.” I nodded, understanding him completely. If I were Michael or Luke, I’d want to drown my worries too.

Roger appeared behind my shoulder. “Am I invited on this little road trip?” My jaw dropped, but he cackled and gave me a good-natured shove. “Totally kidding, go have fun on your grocery store date.” I almost tripped him at saying the word date, terrified that it would rub Calum the wrong way. But I don’t think he even heard, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we got back into his car.

“How was the beer I suggested yesterday?” he asked me, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his rolled down window. I admired the way the sun struck his profile, the relaxed posture he drove in.

Licking my lips, I answered, “It was actually really good, probably the best beer I’ve had. But I’m not that picky when it comes to beer, though.”

He smirked. “What are you picky about?”

Smiling at his oddly personal question, I considered my answer. “Well, cereal, as you already know. I refuse to ever have it with milk. Other than that...not much, I guess. I’m fine with most things.”

Calum thought about this for a second, a distant smile on his lips. “So you’re just so easy-going and carefree, huh?”

I laughed, propping my feet up on the dashboard to reiterate this point. “Oh, totally.”

We arrived at the store and immediately went for the beer. Calum pointed out a few good brands, and I pretended to take meticulous notes on his suggestions. He picked out a case of the kind I bought yesterday, and we brought it back to the car.

He paused after stashing the bag in the backseat. His expression was clouded, and more protective than it had been all day. Clearly his walls were back up, but I didn’t know why. When he finally spoke, my question was answered, “Want to take this somewhere and crack it open? I don’t know, the park or something?” He was scared to ask me this, worried I’d say no. Fear of rejection, I thought. Interesting, considering all of his arrogant bravado.

I nodded eagerly, hoping to ease some of his nerves. “That sounds great. And it’ll give Hannah more alone time I think she really needs.”

The park wasn’t crowded at all, and we found a nice spot up on a hill a little ways. The shade of a tree provided us relief from the late afternoon sun, and at our vantage point we could watch the people roaming around below. I laid on the grass, propped up by an elbow as I watched Calum crack open the beers. As he handed me one we clinked the cans together in a toast, and when I took a sip I felt all of the past few days’ stress leak right out of me. The breeze, the sun, the fresh air; it was all so cleansing, and I couldn’t harbor any negativity in such a serene place.

Laying next to Calum, I inspected his face, unafraid of him catching me staring. I took in his full lips, thinking about all the different expressions they produced. His curly hair fell across his forehead, and I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. His eyes were definitely my favorite feature of his; rich brown in color, reflecting light in the dark depths. If I could, I would gaze into them all day, just to uncover whatever secrets they protected. Calum was an enigma I was itching to solve, and every day I felt a little bit closer to the truth.

Just as I thought, he caught me staring. But I didn’t look away, bravely holding his gaze as he confronted me with a look. A brief smirk crossed his face, before he took a swig of beer and sighed.

“What are you trying to find, Scarlett?” The question was innocent, but it set off butterflies in my chest. I liked the way he said my name, almost like it was music on his tongue. Blushing, I finally did look away and focused instead on the people in the park.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I responded. “Just trying to figure out all your little secrets, that’s all.” Something about the atmosphere had me feeling daring, and I hoped he felt the same way.

He laughed. “You don’t think I’m doing the same thing?” We met each other’s eyes for a second, and then he added, “Alright, fine. You tell me something and I’ll tell you something.”

“How democratic of you,” I joked, and he laid back on his elbows. I thought about what to tell him, sifting through the multitude of secrets in my arsenal. Deciding to take advantage of what little bravery I had right now, I said, “Okay, I’ll tell you something.” He shifted his position to face me better, and suddenly I felt nervous. But I pushed this away, determined to be honest, no matter how much his eyes burned into me.

“You’ve known something is up about me being home from school for a while now, and you’re right. I’m not on a break: I had to drop out.” I paused for a second to let him soak this in. His smirk faded to a frown, but I pushed on. “And the reason I had to drop out was because I was stone-cold broke. I couldn’t pay the tuition, so I had to leave. And the reason I’m broke is...” I trailed off, wondering if this was taking it too far. But I wanted Calum to know this. I didn’t know why I felt this way, why I trusted him all of a sudden. But I needed him to know what happened to me. “My parents both died recently, in a car crash. Everything went to the medical bills to try to keep them alive, but it didn’t work. And now I’m here, alone, broke, and...” I laughed morosely. “And with no idea what I’m doing.”

Calum’s face fell, his eyes filling with sympathy as he opened his mouth to say something. “Scarlett, I--”

I waved him off. “I don’t want any pity. That’s why I kept it to myself, because I didn’t want to be the poor sad girl with dead parents.” Already I felt Calum’s view of me shifting, and I only hoped he wasn’t seeing a weak, pitiable basket case in front of him.

He sighed, brows low on his eyes as he seemed to be waiting for me to look at him. When I finally did, he tilted his head. “Pity and support aren’t the same thing, you know. Everyone needs help when they go through something hard, it doesn’t mean people see you as weak or pathetic.”

My mouth felt dry as his words soaked in. I’d never looked at it this way before, and his fresh perspective actually made me feel better. I guess I hadn’t really let anyone just be there for me, I pushed everyone away. Smiling meekly, I said, “Now where were you two months ago when I needed to hear that?”

He chuckled. eyes dancing with amusement. I liked that even though we were talking about such a heavy topic, we kept it light. For someone I’d always thought was so brooding, Calum had a gentler side that was exactly what I needed in this moment.

I lightly pushed at his arm, leaning on my hand as I faced him. “Alright, since I just poured out my soul it’s your turn.” The anticipation of finding out one of his secrets was killing me, and I bit my lip to contain my enthusiasm.

Calum rested the back of his head on his hands so he was gazing up at the cloudy sky. His lips parted, and I held my breath.

“You’ve probably noticed the lack of shit going on in my life,” he started, and I nodded with a small smile. I was pleased that this was what he was going to talk about; it was what I was most curious about. “The reason I’m able to live this way is because of the checks my mother sends every month. She feels guilty for screwing up my childhood or something, I don’t know. The money is good so I don’t complain.”

This was a lot of information to process. I’d had a hunch for a while that Calum’s life was more complex than he let on. It was interesting to hear about his mother and their apparent estrangement. My fingers toyed with a few blades of grass as I waited for more of an explanation.

“I haven’t actually talked to her in months,” he admitted, sounding a little surprised himself at the confession. “Not that I don’t...care about her.” I noted the way he stumbled, avoiding the word love. “I do, I want her to be happy. I just don’t think me being around is good for either of us.”

Even though I had an entirely different view of my parents, this made sense to me. Sometimes distance is the best thing for a relationship. I was always close with my mother and father, but that was because they’d supported me my whole life. I had no idea what Calum went through with is mom, or how they ended up so estranged.

I hadn’t realized he was looking at me, expectant for a response, and I blushed. “Sorry, I just...it’s nice that you’ve found what works for both of you. So many people try way too hard and just end up hurting each other.”

He smiled, brows lifting. “Gotta say I’m surprised. With all of your psychology books and deep analysis I thought you’d try to tell me to reach out.”

Shrugging, I let a smirk twist across my lips. “I’m full of surprises,” I replied jokingly. Truthfully, I did think that Calum reaching out would be a good idea. Maybe not right now, but in the future when he was more mature and ready to confront his mother he should definitely do it. He deserved to have a mother, someone who loved him unconditionally. I wanted him to have a family.

When I glanced back over to him, I gasped lightly. The way he was looking at me took my breath away; it was as if his brown eyes had pulled back all of my defenses and were staring straight into my soul, my thoughts, my body. A gravitational pull was tugging at my chest, and for a second I contemplated closing the short distance between us and connecting our bodies. I was sure he could hear my thunderous heartbeat, and I wanted to reach out and feel his own.

His eyes flitted to my lips for a brief moment, and then he whispered, “We should go.” He rolled over onto his back and sat up, ending the moment just like that.

We were silent on the drive home, but it was a comfortable quiet I found myself sinking into. The image of Calum’s face, so close and illuminated by the setting sun, was burned in my eyes as I stared at the road in front of me. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to be the one to make a move, to reach over and do what we’ve both been yearning for. But I also knew how much it would complicate things, and in a moment that was so blissfully simple, I didn’t want to ruin it.

I thought once we got home we’d both part ways and say nothing. But as Calum parked in the driveway, switching off the engine and engulfing us in total silence, I held my breath. He was going to say something, that much I knew. But about what I couldn’t possibly comprehend.

The interior roof lights cast a thin veil of yellow on his features, and in the small car it felt impossibly tight. I twisted in the seat, lips pressed together as I waited in suspense. Calum pushed a hand through his hair, letting the curls bounce above his forehead as he rested his arm on the headrest behind me.

He licked his lips, watching me closely. “Remember when you said I knew nothing about you?”

I blinked, remembering the night clearly. I’d hurled the words at Calum in the hopes he’d back off, leave me alone. Instead he seemed to want to get closer, and now here we were together in his car after spending the whole afternoon together. “Yes,” I said plainly. “I remember.”

He looked away, out into the dark distance beyond the window. “Well, you were right,” he declared, suddenly turning back to face me. “I don’t have a clue who you are. But the thing is...I want to find out.”

All of the oxygen had seeped out of the car. Blood was rushing in my ears, my fingers tingled with nerves. I felt like I was tilting in the seat, like gravity had flipped and suddenly I was fighting not to float away. A million thoughts spun through my mind, none of them making sense. Only one stuck out: I need to get out of this car.

And so I did. I stuttered something incoherent and slammed the door behind me, practically running to the door then up the stairs to my room. I tore my jacket off, then my shirt and jeans. I felt suffocated by the constricting clothes, and pulled on soft shorts and a big tee shirt. I began pacing across my floor, wondering if I’d just made a huge mistake. Calum had said something I’d been itching to hear for weeks, without even realizing it myself. But I couldn’t wrap my head around how we got here. We fundamentally disliked each other, but somehow we’d poured our hearts out today and crossed into new territory. I liked the territory, but I was terrified of it blowing up. All it took was one wrong move for Calum and I to disintegrate, and I was scared of crumbling because of him.

I flopped onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The stairs creaked in the hallway, and I felt the door to Calum’s room next door shut. Having him so close but so far was driving me crazy and not helping me get over my anxiety. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, only thinking of him. His eyes, his lips, his voice.

Before I knew what I was doing my body took over and brought me to my door. I twisted the door knob, expecting to walk into the pitch black hallway. Instead I opened it up and was faced by the exact person I couldn’t get off my mind.

I hadn’t even heard Calum come to my door. But here he was, clad in only a pair of black joggers. I could barely see his face but I could make out his eyes boring into mine

I don’t know who leaned in first, but within a millisecond our lips connected. My whole body reacted to his touch, lighting on fire with every skim of his fingers. My hands went to his neck, his face, his hair. I pulled him tightly against me, feeling his bare shoulders and running my fingers across his wide back.

His lips molded to mine like clay, his tongue teasing at my mouth as I breathed hard. Our foreheads bumped together, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as the kiss deepened even more. His hands ran along my sides, igniting the skin as he went. I felt his fingers hook under my shirt, sliding up my skin and causing a string of moans to fall from my mouth. The sounds only encouraged him, and I felt his thumbs brush my exposed breasts.

Our lips tore apart for a second, and I exhaled lightly. “Calum,” I murmured against his cheek, and he attached his mouth to my jaw. The sensation was overwhelming as he dragged his lips down my neck, finding a sensitive spot below my ear. I couldn’t control my heavy breathing, and my knees weakened as he sucked gently on my skin. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck for support, melting into his body like butter.

He peppered kisses across my neck to my jaw to my face, kissing my cheeks before reconnecting with my lips. The kiss had slowed down, softening into a sweet caress that calmed my racing heartbeat. I traced my fingertips down his neck, resting finally on his bare chest as we disconnected once and for all. My forehead bumped against his collarbone, his larger height making him rest his chin on the top of my head.

His hands rubbed up and down my arms, and I pressed a feathery kiss to his chest before leaning back. I tangled my fingers into his, pulling him back into my room.

“Stay,” I whispered, and I heard him close the door behind him. I fell onto the bed, pulling him beside me so we laid face to face. He brought the covers up around us, encasing us in warmth. I was finally breathing evenly again, sleep beginning to pull me under. The last thing I felt before I went under was the feeling of his arm hooking around my waist and pulling me into him.

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kilyra · 5 years

Text

Who Are You? (Part 1)

Klaus and Ben Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy) One-Shot **Parts 1-4 ARE AVAILABLE from the masterlist in my bio**

A/N: So, @pegxcarter developed her own OC with some ideas of a story for her, and has graciously let me play with this arc. I’m so, SO happy she approached me. It’s just too fun!

You are one of the other miracle babies and your gift is to heal which led you to a career as a paramedic. Everything went smoothly until you responded to a call for Klaus who was ODing and in rough shape.

Warnings: None. Spoiler-free and a minor swear word.

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know!

Snapping your gloves on, you knelt beside the young man lying on the cold sidewalk. His breathing was shallow and his dark curls were pasted against his sweaty head. “Sir? Sir, my name is Y/n and I'm here to help you.”

He didn't respond and you weren't expecting him to. A small crowd had formed but the officer that first responded to the call already had everyone edged back. Looking up, you nodded at him. “Do we know what happened here?”

Not waiting for a reply, you slid your hands around the back of the man's head, carefully feeling his scalp and checking your hands for blood. Nothing. You continued your initial check down his body.

“No, the caller didn't see anything, but he's apparently around here regularly – usually strung out. She says his name is Klaus.”

His nose appeared to be broken and blood was splattered along his upper lip. Lance, your partner, frowned. "Well, it looks like he got his clock cleaned tonight too."

Prying his eyelids open, you shone your penlight into his eyes. His dilated pupils showed minimal response. Shifting up on one knee, you looked between the officer and your partner. “Looks like OD or possible brain damage. Or both. His vitals are weak, we need to get him to the hospital. We good to take him?”

After giving you the go-ahead, it was mere moments before he was strapped to the stretcher and being loaded into the back of the ambulance. As Lance slid behind the wheel, you braced yourself and continued to monitor Klaus.

He seemed slightly more responsive as his eyes started moving under his lids. Softly groaning between uneven breaths, an aura of pain seemed to settle around him. It tugged at you.

Glancing up, you made sure Lance was focused on driving after sorting out with dispatch which hospital to head to. Since they directed him to one across the city, it was going to be a long ride.

Staring down at Klaus as you checked his pulse again, the tugging at your heart grew more insistent. There was so much hurt and something you couldn't quite put your finger on. He seemed small somehow under the oxygen mask. Feeling the growing pull of your patient, you knew you were going to help him. Really help him.

You didn't do it often because you didn't want to draw too much attention, so if a patient was stable, you held back. But, in truth, you liked it. You liked helping people and getting them back on their feet as soon as you could. Only your version of soon was immediate.

It was a guarded secret in your family that, the morning of the day you were born, your mother wasn't pregnant. You were one of the 43 children born in October of 1989 and at a young age you discovered you could lay your hands on people and pull their injuries from them. It caused you to feel a phantom version of their pain as you healed them, but it passed. In your heart, you knew sharing their injuries was a small price to stop someone's suffering. Although you couldn't stave off death, you could mend broken limbs, close wounds and reverse other various damage to the body. It was definitely a perk for this profession.

Clearing your mind, you let out a long exhale as you gave your hands a quick shake. Taking another steadying breath, you set one hand on Klaus' cheek and the other on the bare skin of his hand. Focusing all your strength on him, you let your energy reach inside and pull his pain as you braced yourself. You were sure he at least had a concussion so this wasn't going to feel great.

A blinding white light of pain exploded as you felt the bridge of your nose crunch. Something was very wrong.

Grunting, you let go and stumbled before a floating feeling lifted you away. You were flying...but were you still in the ambulance? Everything seemed to loosen its grip as it melted away and you drifted.

What's an ambulance? Why did that matter when you just wanted to keep floating?

But you couldn't keep floating. You became aware of a sensation, something was radiating from your face, a warmth. No...no, it was cold. Didn't you hurt your nose? But the cold was above that, from your forehead.

And then the screaming started. But not yours.

People were all around you, insistently shrieking and yelling as they closed in. They blinked in and out, moving between transparency and solid forms, but all shouting at you. Squeezing your eyes closed did nothing to shut them out and your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might seize up. It was deafening...and horrifying.

Slowly, you realized they were all screaming the same thing. Klaus.

“Klaus, Klaus! Breathe. You're in the worst of it now...just try and stay calm.” A kind voice cut through the chaos, freeing you.

Struggling, you fought to open your eyes as the screaming faded. Sinking back into yourself, everything came into sharp focus as you gasped for air.

You were still hanging onto the side of the stretcher with your forehead pressed against its cold framework. Clumsily, you pulled your feet back under you, but everything was so hard. Your limbs were slow to respond. Were you high?

A muffled voice drew your attention. Following the sound, you looked up and saw Klaus staring down at you, wide-eyed. He glanced at the oxygen mask before he slipped his hand from under the strap and pulled the mask off to hang around his neck. “Are you okay?”

As he spoke, he reached for your arm. Watching his hand come closer, panic shot through you.

Throwing yourself back, you crashed against the side of the ambulance, sending supplies tumbling to the floor. “Don't touch me!”

Clutching his hand to his chest, Klaus froze as the ambulance swerved.

“What's going on? You okay, Y/n??” Alarm overtook Lance's tone.

Swallowing heavily, you fought to find your voice. “Y-yeah. W....we're all good back here, just keep driving.”

“You...you did your thing didn't you? But wasn't he stable?” His voice was softer.

“Just...just keep driving,” you said as you carefully used a small shelf to pull yourself to your feet. Everything was trembling so hard you didn't trust yourself to stand without help.

Turning his attention away from you, Klaus hissed. “What's going on? Why am I here?”

“You don't remember?”

Looking towards the new voice, you saw a young man with neatly kept hair, casually lounging at the end of the stretcher.

“I...I mean, do I really need to remember every little thing?” Cocking his head, Klaus scoffed.

“You got knocked out for being an asshole, that's what happened. And you were out so cold they had to call you an ambulance because they thought you might die.” The stranger sounded unimpressed as he tilted his head, mirroring Klaus.

“But why am I sober? I paid a lot of money to not be sober. And what was with...” He let his words dangle as he jerked his head your direction.

“That, I don't know. She just touched you and-”

“Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?” As you cut him off, his eyebrows slowly rose. In almost perfect unison, he and Klaus turned their stunned gazes onto you.

You felt weak, but you forced your confidence. “You can't be in here.”

Leaning forward, he narrowed his soft, brown eyes. “You can...see me?”

Fighting through the receding waves of fog, you realized your face was still throbbing with a dull pain. Reaching up, you pressed against your nose and found it was intact and fine. But as you rubbed your hand under your nostril you saw smeared blood on your fingers. "Yeah..."

“Wait, wait, wait. You can see him? Ben. That guy right there??” Klaus pressed the question, pointing to the stranger.

“The guy I didn't let in here? Of course I can...I...what's going on?” You rubbed the blood between your fingers and thumb. You've never bled from pulling an injury before. And you've never...whatever the hell happened, you'd never been through that before.

“I have no idea. No one else has been able to see me before.” Ben replied with a mix of confusion and excitement as you were looking down.

That voice...it was the same one that pushed all the screams away.

Snapping your gaze back up to him, something felt off. Looked off. Blinking rapidly, you tried to bring your eyes back into focus on Ben but it was like you were looking at him through a dirty window. And then he was gone.

“Where did he go?”

Turning to where you were facing, Klaus muttered under his breath before he shook his head and shrugged. You only caught the last few words. “No...I guess not..alright, alright, I'll ask.”

You rubbed your knuckles into your eyes as though that would somehow help. But it didn't.

“So...you don't see him anymore? But you did see him...right?” Klaus waved his arm, pointing between you and where Ben had been sitting,

Letting out a shuddering breath, you slowly had to force yourself to look back over at your patient still strapped to the stretcher. His eyebrows were pulled together as he openly stared at you, waiting for your reply.

“Who the hell are you?”

Klaus' eyes grew wide as his head bobbed back from your question. His dark-rimmed eyes closed to a hesitant squint as a grin grew. "Klaus, obviously. Better question is...who are you?”

**Parts 1 - 4 are available in the masterlist in my bio**

Taglist: @foreverfaeries @flower-two @getlostinyourparadise @w0nder-marie

This is the Diego list but I may do other TUA stuff, so please let me know if you JUST Diego from here on out so I don’t spam you. Thanks!! @actiongirl2005 @soul-of-a-traveller @blathena

#klaus hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #who are you

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Broken Bridges

@sdavid09

Wk 23 Prompt

... Mention of broken bones and injuries ...

“Miss Pear, I have come to ask you about the quote for the timber haul we were to aim for from the northern woods.”

Ignoring the gushing internal wounds of your public humiliation from over the past six months you simply stated. “Ask Lord Drarnn. He is the head of the Timber intake now.”

“Oh,” for a moment a hint of panic flooded the Dwarf’s eyes realizing that the very public yet silent battle between the two of you was now at its head and you were calling the Dwarf on his challenge of superiority for the King’s full trust. “My apologies, though only yesterday you were the head.”

With a nod you replied, “Yes well, Lord Drarnn would be arriving while I made my rounds and pull rank on me anyways demanding the men followed his orders anyways to draw in inferior timber to reach the quote faster. If that is what he wants to fill the mountain with then he can do it without hiding behind my name. Have a good night, Master Tupo.”

His head nodded in response to yours and on his way to the Royal Wing from your rooms nearer to the front gate he made certain every Dwarf awake at this unrelenting hour knew just what you had accused the Dwarf of. Though they knew it already you had publicly claimed it and now it would surely reach the ears of the King.

The petite half Noldor half Vanyar Elf wanderer since before the sun rose from a long since demolished land across the once beautiful shores of Numenor sent from Gondolin you were an unlikely addition to the Journey home but with a month of sharing a path and shared warning of orcs an alliance was formed. It was timid and you were certainly paid your fill for killing Smaug though not a fifteenth of the vast hoard. A place on the council was gifted as well and the much ignored and often thought useless topic of timber assigned to you left you silent in the daily meetings since Lord Drarnn had first arrived. Honestly he couldn’t tell a tree from a turnip but each time your lips parted he had something to say and rank soon led to sway the Dwarves his way making you useless in all you aimed to do.

It was exhausting and you hated to think of returning to the life of a ranger so you tried to stay and mend fences the stubborn bastard kept chopping back down to bits. So yesterday was your last meeting and silently you left and returned to the lowest levels in the farming peak where you consulted the Head of the Messengers.

The mountain goats hated you for some reason, though you still had to do something new. You could tolerate their hatred until you wore them down and take up the deliveries between Erebor and the Elven forest where no Dwarf wished to cross after hearing of your escape even after the truce called between Kings. You missed the sky and the earth so this would be a calm in between and your words sealed the deal. “I would rather trek half of Middle Earth and back on deliveries over the constant humiliation of enduring that Dwarf’s opinions forced on my name.”

Humiliated, that was the damming word for the Lord when the Dwarf King heard why you had forfeit your post for something so low, but you were already on your first delivery and far from his ability to chase after you so he would merely have to wait to discuss this with you upon your return in a weeks time.

Joyful melody, that was the name your father had given you, these lands he had entrusted you to had changed greatly and for as long as you could remember those few years in Gondolin now long since gone truly left these pastures a dim comparison to those you once raced through. It was meant to be a short trip, a chance meeting between the Elf you were betrothed to. A bonding of the great houses of Findrod, Ingwe and Ecthellion, one never to happen.

A sudden sight of the massive figure of Sauron wreathed in metal and flames soon staggered and fell with the King who had severed his powerful ring. The Prince was left though none found the source of the arrow in his arm causing him to send the ring flying. But a young Noldor Lord did notice a telling flash of silvery curled hair in a long braid tucked under mightily armor, an Elleth supposedly led far from the battle on a caravan of other Ladies nowhere in sight. Sprinting after her, to join in a week’s travel for a hidden pass atop an endless bout of stairs, it was him alone who knew who had destroyed the ring, silence was bought and in the fall of Numenor and Gondolin the rumored ‘Prince Slayer’ was naught to be seen in the lands surrounding Gondor again. But Mordor was won and changed to a land all the brighter as it once was with a masked statue to remember the unknown figure Lord Elrond had sworn to have never known.

Lost to the Wilds a freedom was given to the young war hero who claimed the woman he loved as his bride while your grief and loneliness had granted you a freedom of your own. No home to return to and no family to bond you to another Elf or place allowed you great searches of all there was to see in these new growing lands.

Those days haunted you far less than how you assumed your father to have taken your loss. True he had fallen long before knowing of the severing of Aman and flooding of once great High Kingdoms still you couldn’t help but imagine him watching the lands binding the two collapse and crumble. When the dust settled and all sound was gone, he wept. Knowing you were lost forever more.

Though absurd a thought it did comfort you little pretending that the pain and knowledge was shared, if only for moments. That someone you once loved knew what had happened and why you were trapped here.

All the same those who did recognize your star like freckled features and telling silver flecked purple eyes remained silent allowing you your secrecy. The name was familiar to the Dwarf Lords though with your accent, use of an imagined surname and their disinterest in searching to discover the line of your father to know your true rank a secret it remained. However you had to admit treasuring their acceptance of you even if you were assumed nameless.

Another huff and jerk of the goat pulling the wagon nearly tore the reigns from your grip and in a huff of your own you were glad to have secured them on the railing on the wagon in front of your sunken seat leaving your legs to dangle against the front wall of it. “Tug all you like you’ll only tire yourself out faster.” You muttered in Khuzdul making you tuck your legs up to avoid its back hooves from crashing into your shins. Rolling your eyes at its cocky chortle you looked forward watching the path ahead still an hours ride from the forest.

“I understand you are bonded to a Dwarf as a kid, I am not taking you from Rundo, as soon as the trip is over you will be back with him.”

Again he grumbled between bites on his feed sack you drained a bit into for him to eat as you had dinner. He would be cut loose from the wagon but still tethered to keep from wandering away due to the mists while you slept under the wagon ensuring he couldn’t crush you overnight. Breakfast was no less amusing in his constant silence between bouts of arguments on his being saddled with the ‘Glittering Elf’ as all their kin had dubbed you upon first sight.

Remaining silent you relented seeing how the timid and gentle holding up and unhooking each night off and on the wagon harness between filling the bucket with as much feed as possible without draining supplies for the trip back had started to lessen his anger. Steadily you were gaining his trust at least that you could work well together, even to the point of walking in front of him when the path grew far from discernible from atop the wagon.

Two days and two patrol points later, just two hours from the front gates a wooden bridge over a wide enchanted river sat between you and your goal. The eerie silence of the forest led you to clutching your bow and drawing out your quiver you strapped to your side assuming spiders were nearby.

The explosion triggered by the weight on the wagon was far from what you had expected and a shriek from you died in the floundering of the tethered bellowing goat thrashing as he sank. Tugging a dagger from your boot you leapt into the water behind him sinking low enough to slice the straps and grip his hind legs to boost him up to clamber out.

Something was wrong, pulses of blinding pain coursed from your left side and in raising your arms out of the water to grip the rocks you saw why. Right out of your arm the same fracture from the power pulse following the destruction of the ring now had your bone sticking out of your arm. Clenching your eyes through the sound of racing steps of Men you pulled yourself out of the river into the sights of the wide eyed panting goat staring at you as your legs gave out in a cry of pain. Heavily you fell to your belly unable to catch yourself in time.

Panting yourself a second try to get up ended the same luring tears to your eyes. Slowly the wagon sank as you tugged your bow and arrows closer. “Run.” Catching the goat’s stunned gaze in your Khuzdul order it looked you over then darted off down the path at your shout, “RUN!!” Through the sound of nearing danger.

Whimpering is pain you tore the end of your shirt and bit one of your arrows pinning another to the side of your arm you used your good foot to pin down to the ground. Around the arrow a halting heart clenching scream in your moment of blinding and deafening pain alerted all three patrols of Elves to race towards you while your momentarily frozen goat turned to continue racing onwards to find help. With trembling hands you bound your arm to the arrow and shook your head unable to tell what was wrong with your crooked left leg still bound tightly in your talk splinter filled boot.

Inhaling sharply you raised another arrow and shifted yourself to face the oncoming strangers. An easing of the grip of your bow under the toes on your right foot you used the rock under your foot to help you prop it up and fire off an arrow into the chest of the first ax wielding Man. One handed you took out two more with shoddy daggers, clearly bandits hoping to snag a good score from the traveling merchant from Erebor hoping for a great haul.

Left and right Elves came into view circling you to ensure your safety only to have their Captain see you notch another arrow and lift your leg firing an arrow at the blonde haired Prince. A groan in pain at the slice across his bicep from your arrow had the Prince flinching away in time to avoid a sword falling to where his head Just was in the crashing of your arrow into the chest of the Man brandishing it and the following one hitting him square in the neck under the end of he face shield on his helmet.

Panting softly you eyed the bleeding Prince who came closer to you only to flinch at your cry out in pain at a brunette guard’s try to tap your injured leg. An apology was followed by a hushed conference on how best to carry you without injuring you further. Turning your head you glanced at the wagon a quartet of guards had begun to inspect for a safe way to bring it out of the rubble.

In the arms of the Prince you were suddenly cradled and was in the middle of the sprinting Elves mentally calling out for their Healers to ready for you. Wide the gates were thrown open by the guards and through the halls until you were settled onto a cot and were surrounded by Elves. Biting your lip in covering your eyes, the Elleths at your feet cautiously unlaced your boot off your left foot as the King strode wide eyed into the hall. Right to his son in the middle of removing his bloody armored shirt the King’s hands rose to the tear on his sleeve to see the clean cut stirring his hushed question, “Only an Elven arrow could pierce this armor. Which-?”

Your pained whimpering sounds turned his head and parted his lips recognizing you at once making him wonder why you were chosen to deliver their goods. Legolas used his silence to explain, “Ada, the Lady noticed a Man behind me. Her arrow lodged in the chest of the attacked behind me. Her second arrow ensured he fell.” Thranduil looked from you back to him and his lips parted heading him say, “The bridge collapsed from under her wagon, clearly a trap by those thieves.”

Across the room in your passing out from the pain at your revealed dislocated foot and hip the Head Healer asked the Prince, “My Prince, were you the one to reset her arm?”

Legolas, “Reset? No, her arm was braced when we found her.”

Making the Healers look at you in shock luring the King closer asking, “Why do you ask?”

The Healer answered, “The arm is clearly broken, to have had to reset it herself. It is incredible she was conscious enough or able to keep steady to fire arrows at all afterwards.”

Thranduil, “It was set cleanly?”

The Healer nodded, “Yes, perhaps the Lady had no clue as to how long she would be out there. Infection would be the main concern with a break through the skin. It should take a few hours to repair it though a proper brace will need to be made.”

Thranduil, “And for her leg?”

Another Healer answered, “Merely dislocated. Ankle and hip. Bed rest for two weeks should do wonders.”

Thranduil nodded then stated in a clearly concerned tone, “Do all you require to mend her fully,” the concern for your safety was quickly explained as he named you, “Lady Pear is the only child of Lord Ecthellion, and grandchild of High King Ingwe, spare nothing for her well being and comfort.”

Turning again he forced himself from the Elleths now fervently measuring your arm and leg for braces to be forged by the best smiths while others began to ready supplies to clean and mend your wounds in the flight of a servant to fetch clothes for you to be changed into. Back to Legolas’ side the King’s head tilted slightly eyeing the slice on his injured bicep sealing shut in a streak of healing cream after a press of a wet herb soaked cloth and relaxed at the lack of a scar the wound would leave.

Leaving the room together to guide him back to his rooms to change into a fresh shirt the Prince filled him in to all with news of the panicked goat and now dripping wagon now led by a trio of horses brought for the task was being led to the gates after dragging it from the river. Inside his apartment Legolas asked, “Ada, why did Lady Pear not announce herself, truly, upon her first arrival here with King Thorin?”

Thranduil, “I am not certain Thorin is aware who she hails from, he named her so casually as if he did not recognize the name. Though I knew her, distantly, when we were children. Merely in passing. I would know her anywhere.” His eyes sank to his son’s arm and he asked in a glance up again, “Do you hold any ill will-,”

Legolas shook his head, “Not in the least. I was frozen inspecting her leg and had no clue I was in danger at all. I wish to thank her properly when she is fully rested again.”

Thranduil nodded in relief then turned stating, “I will see to the choosing and freshening of her apartment myself. Wished secrecy or not the Lady will be held to the comfort of her birth rank while in our borders.” In a turn he was gone after a gentle pat of his hand on his son’s shoulder “Eat and retire for your wound,” with a ghost of a grin and a nod the Prince accepted as an order to keep him off returning to patrols. All of which were returning to their posts after more guards had raced out to sweep the area around your attack for any others responsible.

It was no secret that this would go badly. The Dwarf and Elf King. Talks of lost thrones, of fabled returns to reclaim a lost home. Fears and fire led to shouts and a Khuzdul curse narrowing the Elf King’s eyes. Retracting a step his gaze rose and inhaling sharply in a beam of light from the lamps above he caught sight of you. Around the Dwarf King he strode straight to you making Thorin snarl and shout out, “Your qualms are with me! Do not trouble the Lass! She has done nothing and has nothing to barter.”

Flatly in his trot down the stairs as you stepped forward in Tauriel’s step behind you to usher you closer onto the lower platform, “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

Thorin, “It is my bloodline! Our battle! Our home! An Elleth of little standing is not deserving of withholding your fury for me!” In a faltering step at his claim that you were of little standing his hand rose to his middle in his shift to glance back at Thorin again, “Lady Pear has done nothing.” Inhaling again Thranduil turned to you hearing Tauriel’s dagger easing out of its sheath in the rise of your hand only to sheath it again in seeing the shimmering chain you eased into his palm.

Lowering his gaze in a tilt of his hand his eyes scanned over the simple necklace of a moonstone surrounded by shimmering antlers resembling the head of an elk alongside a thick banded ring coated in diamonds with the design of a swan. The former only worth much from the materials rare from Valinor from your first project forging, the latter was sent with you as a gift blessing your intended union to Gil-Galad. Softly in Doriathian you whispered, “Please, give me a chance.”

Shifting on his feet he looked to Tauriel stating, “Take Lady Pear to bathe before supper.” Turning around he folded the jewels in his hand that slid under his wrap ascending the stairs keeping his gaze locked on Thorin, “King Thorin, you are correct. Lady Pear has done nothing. However, neither will you.” Straight to the dungeons Thorin was drug with the others shouting for as long as he felt the fire to before slumping to the ground. Their only glimmer of hope was that you were not trapped with them. You were not being punished. But nothing readied them for the echoing death roar of Smaug and the tremors in the earth to follow.

Outside the cells Thranduil came into view locking his eyes on Thorin and stated, “My guards will take you to bathe, change and eat. If you imagine so little of me to believe that I would dare harm an innocent out of rage for another, know this, my patience outlives my fury every time. I have seen the wrath of my kin unleashed upon innocents, no mater what you may find in your rage, I am not cruel. I bear no malice for you. I wish you well in your endeavors as King. My only request was a sign of good faith.” An easy shift of his fingers around the bars and the door eased open in his step out of sight stirring Thorin to stand and hurry to the doorway.

“Lady Pear, is being released as well?”

Turning on his heel still keeping hold in his hidden hand on your chain you had left with him Thranduil stated, “Lady Pear is in Erebor guarding your throne.” Thorin’s lips parted along with those of the Dwarves watching them both, “The bloodline of that supposed nameless Elleth has brought down greater beasts than that of Smaug, and should you doubt her worth, one drop of her blood is worth more than every scrap of gold in that mountain and mine combined. A name weightier than that of Durin the Deathless. It is old, and foreign to you, for those however who hail from those lost lands, never doubt her again or she will be lost to you.”

Fed and pampered up onto spare ponies the Elves escorted the Dwarves home to find their friend inside the gates they embraced fully, grateful for all you had sacrificed and were eager to hear the tale. Invited in the Elf King left supplies and to his surprise was kept apart from you restraining him from being able to return your tokens of trust. So he would wait, until you were able to have a moment alone. And home he went by noon with the chest of gems in hand where he would bide his time and have more time to admire your jewels.

Sharply your chest rose and an overpowering numbness on your left side had your eyes snapping open and your right leg easing up in a bend to ensure you were still bale to move. The covers on top of you, both silk and plushy in mint green, slid down a few inches and your hand rose to pat on your shoulder feeling the loose shirt shifting under your fingers while the leg on your sleeping pants raised a few inches in the slump of your leg again. Timidly your fingers eased down your injured arm only to flinch back at the metal woven brace starting at your elbow. Breathing shallowly you fought to keep your eyes from tearing up only to hear the door of the apparent lavish apartment open with a cart rolling in and steps of another from the room on your right revealed to be the King.

In his same velvety tone as always he stated in his inspection of the cart, “Perfect. I do believe our patient is awake.” Up to the foot of the bed the cart was rolled and into your view the King and trio of Healers came up to your side.

Forcing a grin the closest to you said, “My Lady, we are going to check your injuries.” You nodded and in their gentle easing back of the covers your gaze turned to the King, who shifted the slit in his robe and raised his knee to plant it on the bed to sit beside you.

“Are you in any pain, Lady Pear?”

In a shake of your head his lips parted at the tears filling your eyes, “I could never apologize-,”

Instantly he chose to break conduct of a King to offer you comfort and fold his hand around yours, “There is no apology I would ever accept for saving the life of my son and guards. You owe me nothing,”

In the quiver of your lip you inhaled then said as a tear streamed out the corner of your eye to your ear, “I couldn’t protect your delivery. Which is no doubt ruined.”

“Doorknobs. The shipment was not ruined, and with the amount of dust in the crate it was due for a washing.”

In shock you asked weakly, “Doorknobs?”

With a nod and a hint of a grin he stated, “True, unusual delivery though nearly a century past they were sent for repairs, now they are finally being returned to us.”

“You expect me to believe you have waited a century for doorknobs? What have been used in the interim, rope?”

Openly with a grin he looked your face over after releasing your hand freeing you to wipe your cheek, “We merely removed the doors,” making you chuckle to yourself.

Looking down at the Healer inspecting your arm you asked, “How terrible is it?”

Looking up at you she gave you a soft grin, “Bed rest for two weeks to rest your dislocated hip and ankle, the break in your arm was set clean, have you done that before?”

“For others, first time for myself.”

She replied, “Three weeks with the brace should aid in your healing greatly. A sling as well might be incredibly useful.”

Thranduil again spoke saying, “Take as long as you need. The rainy season is beginning soon and it will take some time to reconstruct the bridge to repair the path to Erebor.”

“What do you mean?”

“That river circles the peak our kingdom is housed in, that is the only bridge within a reasonable distance of Erebor and all the others are to be inspected thoroughly before any trade or visitors are granted permission to cross them.”

“I-,”

“I assure you, as soon as it is assured we can transport you safely I will personally see you are returned, if you should wish it.” In a reach into his pocket he drew out a velvet lined box from his pocket he offered you, “I wished to have returned these to you in your first night in Erebor.”

“It was-,”

“A trade?” You nodded sheepishly and he watched as the Elleths helped to sit you up against more pillows in the arrival of a bowl of stew for you. “There is no possible portion of that hoard I would ever risk taking these from you. It was an act of trust. One well deserved.”

“How was it so easy to let me go face Smaug when you were so terrified to let the Dwarves go?”

In the path of the Healers out of the room his eyes trailed their movements until the door closed ensuring you were alone, back to you his gaze shifted and he answered, “How could I possibly doubt the woman behind the destruction of the one ring.” Just barely your lips parted and he stated, “Lord Elrond never was required to share who he followed to me, I recall the sight of a telling bow coated in swans and feathers, not to mention the twin of orcrist strapped to your back. Your Ada faced the impossible, it was no stretch to know greatness would circle you.”

“You’ve known?”

“I hoped I might find you again one day. Though to find you as a messenger after a council member, I am curious why you were chosen for this task. I understand Thorin’s kin have little interest in entering my territory again, why?”

After a sigh you answered, “There was a Dwarf Lord eager to humiliate and belittle my place on the council. I forfeit my position and wished to take the air. It certainly did not hurt that I was an Elf and not afraid to travel here alone. No doubt Thorin will be furious when he hears of all this.”

“Rightly so.”

While you ate he sat keeping you company hushing any worries on repayment then took the cart himself to be passed off to the returning Elleths outside in the hall. On his way to copy then send off the final copy of his drafted mental letters to Thorin informing him of the incident he paused giving his son a soft grin. “Patrol go smoothly?”

“Yes. Is Lady Pear resting?”

“Yes, a chair is being fashioned so we might wheel her into the dining hall for meals. With luck it might be completed by supper.”

“You seem pleased her stay has been extended. Lady Pear is quite beautiful.”

With a ghost of a grin the King replied, “You have yet to see her smile. When Vanyar are content they glow like starlight.”

“We shall have to see to her every comfort then.” The Prince said in a slink away with a plot of his own to make you smile again.

#Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge #Thranduil x OC #Hobbit #lotr

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calmdowncaleb · 4 years

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Task #006 - Love Alphabet

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Caleb is a very cuddly boy. If he likes someone he will hang on them, hold their hand, give kisses (it doesn’t matter if they are in a relationship or not), and lots of cuddles. Some may call him clingy. He just sees is as very lovey and cuddly.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

No, Caleb doesn’t like flowers. He has always thought it was a strange thing to give flowers. You have to take care of them and they die anyway. He would rather give something lasting to someone he cares for.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

Caleb likes chocolate in things. He won’t eat a chocolate bar plain. But chocolate milk is one of his favourite drinks. His favourite thing snack with chocolate in it are Choco Pies. Think of a Moon Pie or a Wagon Wheel but fluffier.

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Caleb is a very simple boy and his idea date is going to the arcade with someone. Competing in games, winning prizes for each other, before eating pizza and fires. He doesn’t like traditional dates such as fancy dinners or going to the movies. Dinner dates have too much pressure to be good and too much time to have awkward silences--which Caleb is very good at. Movie dates are very impersonal.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Caleb may be small but he is great a giving hugs. Most of the time, he rocks with the other person during hugs. Also most of the time, since he’s rather short, it’s his head resting on the other person’s shoulder.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Caleb is the most awkward flirt if he is actively trying to flirt. He tends to make bad jokes and laugh too loudly. When he’s flirting without realizing it, which he does a lot of the time without even realize it, he just acts cute. No trying to get the person, just being himself. Which is cute.

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Caleb struggles a little bit at giving gifts. He tends to spend more money than he needs to, buying multiple things, hoping one of them will be right. Then he ends up giving the person a Christmas morning’s worth of presents.

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He is rather trusting in others, letting anyone who bats their eyelashes at him into his heart only to have it stomped on in the end .Thank you, Abra.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Those words are very hard for him to say. He has only said it to two people outside of his family. And one of them was Minseok, his best friend from back in Korea, who might as well be his brother. The only other person he said it to way Teddy. There have been other people he loves, he just can’t bring himself to say the words for some reason.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Yes. Caleb Kim is a little green eyed monster. Go look at the ski trip if you need an example.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

He could use a little practice. Caleb is an awkward boy and during the first kiss with someone that can come through. Think of the first kiss you ever had. Yeah, Caleb kind of relives that with the first kiss with someone knew.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

His mom. His brother. Reluctantly, his sister. Not his dad. His grandma. Minnie. Axel. Kenzie. Teddy. Isak. All in different ways, mind you.

M : MOONLIGHT. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

This is the same question as “DATE”

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

He’s kind of a different person in bed. He enjoys sex in somewhat unorthodox places. He’s a power bottom. He’ll take what he wants but doesn’t talk much. Kink isn’t really his thing, although he really likes his hair being pulled.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

No. Not at all. Not in English or Korean. He’s a mess when it comes to words.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Someone who likes him. A heartbeat. Caleb doesn’t have a type and he doesn’t look for anything in particular. Every relationship he had been in, it just kind of happened. A connection was formed and then boom, dating.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

Caleb would be nervous, but he would still be the one to ask the question. Probably a few months later than his partner wants, but if he’s asking he wants to be sure.

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He’s somewhere in between. A lot of the things he does are for selfish reasons, but he tries very hard to make the people he dates happy. His own ego just gets in the way...a lot so he comes off as a lot more cynic than he is.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

Not in the slightest. His longest relationship was eight months. It was when he was 14 and it was completely awful.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

Yes. He believes that everybody has their one true love--a soulmate if you will--somewhere in the world waiting for them.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

Yes, a few times. His break up with Abra was ugly, but he was still very upset afterwards because he really did love her. The throuple with Kenzie and Teddy left him super heartbroken. He’s still working on mending it.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

Caleb loves Valentine's Day...because in South Korea, it’s when men receive chocolates from women who like them. (One month later, the men give women chocolate on White Day, and one month after that is Black Day when singles celebrate their singleness together.) Growing up, every year, he got a box of choco pies from his mom.

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

Defiantly some day, once he finds the right person. Caleb just wants to be happy and loved.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

Unintentionally, but not really. Most of the time ins honorifics--terms used to show respect to people who are close to him but older. Noona - what he calls Kenzie, Sora, and Minnie literally just means big sister. Hyung - what he calls Ian and Axel is simply big brother. Teddy (Daddy) and Abra (Kadabra) are the only two exceptions to the nickname rule.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

He’s more the protected than the protector.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

3. Kenzie, Teddy, and Kai.

#luxortask #luxortask006

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fanf1cshawn · 5 years

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broken promises ii

note: if you haven’t read part 1 of this story, then i suggest that you read that first so you know the whole situation. you can read it here: broken promises. here’s broken promises part 2, and i hope you like it. read ‘til the end for a surprise. ;)

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warnings: swearing and slight use of drugs.

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he called her over and over again, but she never picked up. he sent her hundreds of texts but he never got a reply. what have i done? the broken hearted boy thought. his eyes stung from crying all night long, not getting a single second of sleep. he was tired, both physically and emotionally.

he turned on the tv, bombarded by the numerous news channels that reported about his dumb, selfish mistake. he flipped through so many channels until he saw e! news. they went out to ask his fans about their thoughts on this situation.

"how do you feel about shawn mendes cheating on his girlfriend?" the reporter asked as the teen searched for an answer.

"as a fan, i feel really really bad for y/n. she didn't deserve that at all, and i applaud her for actually speaking up about the whole thing. most women would rather keep quiet, especially if they were to be dating a celebrity like shawn, you know?"

"and for shawn?" oh no.

"as for shawn, i hope he learns from his mistake. he's portrayed as such a good person in the media and that's how he shows himself most of the time. so for him to be exposed like this might ruin his reputation, if not, maybe even his career." the teen nods. the girl wasn't wrong at all. at this point, he feels like his fans are slowly leaving his fandom and he's broken their trust.

they show another clip of the reporter asking to the same question to someone else.

"to be real with you, i feel like the only reason shawn did that is because y/n was actually a really shitty person unlike shawn tells everyone. i feel like he only did this because y/n did something to like, start it all." he knew that the girl wasn't right, not even a single bit. she doesn't deserve any hate, and he wished he could just put it all on him. it should be.

"it was never her fault!" shawn screamed, throwing a pillow across the room. a tear escaped his eye and there was has, crying all over again. he let out shaky breaths and pulled open the bottom drawer of his bedside table. in front of him were untouched joints from before you started dating. he didn't always use them, but he stopped using them completely after you found out that he had been using them more than he did. you stopped him before it turned into an addiction, but you weren't there to stop him, were you?

although it's been sitting there for a few years, he didn't mind at all. he would do anything at that point to take all the pain away, would do anything to forget about his stupidity.

the miserable brunette searched for a lighter and he found one in the same drawer. he lit up the small joint in his large hand and inhaled the smoke. the effect started to kick in after several hits, as smoke filled his rather empty room that was once shared between the two of you.

he coughed and threw the joint away quickly, coming to the realization that no matter how much he tried forgetting about what he did, he never will, the damage has already been done and you already left.

as the hazel eyed boy mourned over his heartbreak, so did you. you didn't feel sad because you two were now separated, you were sad because you still couldn't process the fact that your then boyfriend actually had the nerve to cheat on you.

you laid down in your old bedroom of your parent's house, in need of alone time. your phone have been blowing off all morning, but you decided not to answer or reply to anything just yet.

to your surprise, you didn't cry all night long unlike shawn did. yes, a few tears slipped out, but it wasn't like you were crying rivers out of your eyes.

just like shawn, you felt empty. you didn't know what to do. you've been spending everyday together for the past 3 years but now you were left with nothing to do.

your work offered you a few days off after finding out about the incident and you gladly accepted, knowing that it would be of big help to you.

although you felt empty on the inside, your whole body felt tired, even though you haven't done anything the past few hours. you knew watching sad movies wouldn't help at all and even worse, drinking wouldn't too.

a knock on the door made you snap out of your thoughts. the door opened revealing your mother with a sympathetic look on her face.

"someone's downstairs for you, honey." she walks over and pulls you up from your bed. you grunt, laying back down right away. your mother side and sat next to you instead.

"if it's shawn, then i am not getting my ass down there. not even close." your mother chuckled and slapped your arm playfully.

"it's not funny mom!" you rolled over, stuffing your face in the pillow.

"oh dear, if shawn was the one down there i would've thrown him off the roof!" the image of shawn being thrown off the roof by your mother brought a smile to your face, she always knew how to cheer you up.

you sit back up slowly and hug your mom tight. she wrapped you in her arms, caressing the back of your head.

"i love you so much, mom. thanks for everything." you whispered softly. she gives you a warm smile and pats your back.

"i love you too, dear. but please come downstairs already 'cause that person's been waiting for you for a few minutes now." she says, reminding you of the still unknown visitor you had. you sighed and she left you all alone again. you decided to go downstairs and talk to your visitor, just to get it over with.

you slowly tiptoed down the stairs and you heard that one voice that you've been dreading to hear since last night. no, i must be going insane, you thought. your foot was at the last step and you peeked inside the living room. you must've been hallucinating because as soon you peeked in there, a pair of hazel eyes locked eyes with yours. anger flowed in your nerves the moment he stood up and started walking to your direction.

you ran back to your room and slammed the door shut, heavy footsteps following behind you.

"y/n, i can explain!" shawn says through the door.

"explain? there's nothing to explain, shawn! don't try and hit me your bullshit lies again!" you were basically screaming at him at that point, and you were more than pissed knowing that you and that disgusting human being were under one roof again.

"i'm just here to say sorry, ok? i know i fucked up, i fucked up big time." he took a deep breath and continued.

"not running after you was such a big mistake because i should've, but i couldn't really bring myself t-to do that last night." he fumbled with his hand and tried to look for more words to say.

"well, cheating on me was also a big mistake too, you know?" you stated, sarcasm filling every single word. he sighed.

"yes babe- i mean y/n, yes, that was a completely huge mistake and i regret every single thing i did these past three months. i promised you that i would never such a thing to you and i broke that promise, and i'm so sorry." his voice was low and raspy, and you could tell he had been sobbing last night.

"i couldn't get you, us, off my mind when you left and when i was in that apartment alone, i knew that without your presence and words, i would've gone back to my old ways. you made me feel like i actually have a life worth living." he croaked out. you slowly opened the door and took a good look at shawn. his nose and cheeks were red and his eyes were bloodshot. you had to admit that you felt really bad for him since you've never seen him like this before.

"so, what do you want to do, mendes?" you leaned on the doorframe, waiting for his response.

"i was thinking that i could fix that broken promise... if we started over again." he barely said in a whisper. you debated if you should give him another chance and you made your final decision. you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair.

"sure." shawn's eyes widened and all his sadness was wiped away when you said that one word. he was about to hug you but you stopped him from doing so.

"not so quick, shawn. it's not going to be as easy as it seems. just because you're shawn mendes doesn't mean you get a pass for being such a dick." he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, knowing that everything that you said was right. you were always right.

"you're not just going to hug, kiss, then fuck me then suddenly we're all okay. it's never going to be like that, ok?" he nodded.

"i'm going to give you one last chance, shawn. one last chance."

"if you actually succeed at being a good boyfriend in our new beginning, then i'll stay with you 'til who knows when. but if you mess up again, just know that you'll never hear about me ever again too." you finish your statement and he nodded in agreement.

"i promise, y/n. thank you so much." he smiled for the first time that day and he swore to himself that he would do anything to not break your heart again; swearing on his heart that all of his broken promises were going to be fixed.

—————————

so about that surprise... i’m going to make broken promises into a series! as soon as i finished writing this, a plot came to my mind and i have decided to continue this story. to everyone who has left feedback and loved it, thank you thank you thank you. and lastly, shoutout to @shawnmendes048 because her comment made me laugh so hard and i decided to use it for a dialogue hehe. that’s about it really. see you on part 3!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes one shots #shawn mendes burb #shawn mendes blurbs #broken promises

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fandoms-equal-life · 4 years

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Rewriting Their Stars Once Again - The Greatest Showman Fanfiction

Chapter 8: The Blue-Eyed Pair

Originally Posted on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365846/chapters/50098595

Summary: What happens after Anne wakes up after fainting in the Carlyle’s lawn?

Notes:

I’m going to do it again…

I AM SORRY!!

Life is not ideal at the moment. While I feel much more content with what is happening in my own life, the lives of the people closest to me are not. Perks of being a Hufflepuff, not only do I feel my feelings, but also others!!

Also, the fact I don’t know where I am living next year, my intense dreams that messes up my sleep, internships, and that I am terrible with my money is also bringing me down.

But I am so determined to finish this. I have planned five more chapters after this one. I know I started this in the beginning of 2018 and now it’s almost 2020 (I am dying, what even is time anymore) but I want to finish.

Now enjoy this very long chapter and please leave a comment and give kudos! As much as I don’t want to say it, comments really inspire me to write. I am not-so-secretly seeking attention.

Disclaimer: I am not trying to write anything social justice warrior-y I am only writing what the time period would have been like (well, to the same extent the movie did anyways).

She woke up on the ground.

She forgot where she was. Her vision was still blurry and all she can see are a familiar pair of blue eyes staring down at her.

“Phillip?” she asked, attempting to lift her hand to touch his face.

“Anne, are you alright? It is Daniel,” the voice says, exasperated. “Dear heavens, I need to get you out of here right away…”

This is when Anne started to remember where she was. The big white house, the lawn man, the scared looking maid at the door, and cold eyes like Phillip’s – she is with at the Carlyle’s.

Anne mentally checked herself. It did not seem she had hurt anything, in fact, she seemed to have landed somewhere soft. She realized she was sitting up on the manicured lawn. Her stomach felt fine, just as large as it was before.

Anne started to get up on her own, her vision still a little blurry and her stomach keeping her down, when Daniel started to help.

“Please leave me be Mr. Carlyle, I am perfectly fine without-” Anne started when Daniel interrupts,

“No Anne you are not, you just fainted in my lawn while carrying three children. While you may have your assumptions about me, I will not abandon a lady with child and my brother’s family to fend for herself after that. Now please, let me help you into your carriage.”

Anne decided not to argue, thinking if she could just get into the carriage, she could get to people who actually cared about her.

But after Daniel helped her into the carriage, he did what she least expected and sat down across from her.

The surprise carriage ride with Daniel was painfully quiet. Anne was exhausted, not only because of her little fainting spell (which Phillip would laugh and role his eyes at later when she said “little”), but also because of the rage that had consumed her.

Daniel was now sitting right across from her, after dismissing her family as nothing. As well, he had told her that he needs to get her out of “here” right away. It is as if he wanted Anne to feel more out of place than she already did.

But he also said he would not abandon her because she was his brother’s family. That had to mean something, Anne thought. Maybe he only said that to be gentlemanly, but maybe he does care? Anne contemplated this the whole ride. The carriage was on route to the circus, where Phillip would surely be.

Anne was worried. If Daniel walked in there only to yell at Phillip because she arrived unannounced to his family home to help mend their relationship - she would not have it. She would defend her husband even if she fainted again.

The odd pair arrived at the circus. Daniel helped her out of the carriage, which she decided not to protest. They walked towards the tent together, Anne slightly in front of Daniel.

Anne walked into the main tent first. Phillip was in the ring, sitting in the same hoop Anne had sat in not long ago, only inches above the ground.

Phillip had not noticed her yet. He looked pensive, in deep thought. Anne gave him a sad smile he would never see. He was only inches above the ground, even though they both knew he possessed the skills to soar higher. But he is not as sure of himself as she is. When Anne steps into the ring, she knows her tools would never fail her. Phillip, on the other hand, did not have the same faith as her.

Phillip’s trance was broken when Daniel entered the tent with more force than Anne had. Phillip looked up and smiled at Anne until he realized who she was with.

Daniel was not looking at Phillip, but at the ring he was in and the numerous stands behind him. Anne could not tell whether he was impressed or disgusted with the sight.

Phillip began to storm towards his brother “I do not know who you think you are Daniel, but if you have laid a hand on my wife-”

Anne stopped him in his tracks, “Phillip, I am the reason he is here. After our discussion about family the other night, I decided that I would attempt to mend the relationship for you. You have been so very stressed and after how well you have taken care of me, I wanted to do something for you.”

Phillip looked from Anne to Daniel. She could not read his expression.

At this moment, P.T. entered with the tent with Caroline and Helen at his side. They were laughing about something, but their smiles halted when they noticed the three-tense people in the room.

Anne is not sure what P.T. was thinking, but the man had always had a talent for reading a room.

“I am so sorry to have interrupted” P.T. said in a confused tone. “Helen wanted to practice her cartwheels in here, but we can find somewhere else to practice.”

At that, P.T. grabbed his daughters’ hands, and started to go back the way he came.

Anne made a decision in this moment that could either have good or disastrous endings.

“Hold on Barnum, I wish to see Helen’s cartwheels as well.”

And with that, Anne left the brothers alone.

Phillip was having a particularly bad day.

The circus had sold zero tickets that afternoon. But instead of lying about this like he would have in the past, he told the performers the hard truth and sent everyone home.

While it felt good to tell the truth, the sad faces of his family nearly broke him.

He did not know what to do with himself. He could not bear to look at the circus’s finances right now.

So instead he sat on the ring Anne liked to use when she performed. He wanted to strategize about his next moves if ticket sales did not increase, but all he could think about was his Anne.

He thought about how beautiful she is. How radiant she was when she was performing. How no one understood how Phillip whole-heartedly trusts Anne’s abilities as she flies through the sky.

He also thinks about how miserable she has been during pregnancy. While he thinks she is glowing; she feels large and drained.

But what he mostly thinks about is the amount of risk this pregnancy has brought to her.

He became lost in thought. How lucky he is, how much he needs her, and also what would happen without her.

Phillip, so deep in thought, did not notice Anne walk in. He would never know how long she stared at him, with a sad smile she reserved for when he was not looking.

What actually broke him out of his trance was the noise Daniel made when entering the tent. When he first looked up, all he saw was Anne, and he started to believe he had somehow willed her to come to the circus.

Then he saw Daniel, and he was instantly filled with rage.

He got up abruptly, letting the sandbag take the hoop up rapidly, and stomped toward his brother.

“I do not know who you think you are Daniel, but if you have laid a hand on my wife-” Phillip yells.

But Anne stopped him before he could let his rage out on Daniel further. She explains to him that she is the reason he is here because she wanted to attempt to mend the relationship.

Phillip’s mind was racing. He kept looking back and forth between Anne and Daniel, hoping their expressions would give him some sort of answer.

That is when P.T. and his daughters walked into the tent. Phillip’s mind was still racing, he only heard some mention of cartwheels when Anne abruptly said she would join them. Before he could stop her for more of an explanation, she was walking as fast as the triplets would let her.

Now it was just him and Daniel in the empty tent. Phillip should feel at home here, but Daniel’s presence brought him back to that drunk man who let a con artist convince him to help with his oddball show.

It was all too much. Phillip felt suffocated and decided that he needed to leave.

However; as he turned to go, Daniel spoke rapidly, “I came to see the show once.”

Phillip stopped in his tracks. He wanted to scream. To tell him that he did not care what he thought, that he stopped caring about him a long time ago. But Phillip knew it was a lie.

He knew Anne left them alone to talk. While he did not know what had happened this morning, she had brought Daniel to him. Phillip decided that he should at least hear him out.

Phillip turned back towards him and said, “When?”

Daniel looked a little shocked, Phillip suspects Daniel thought he would not answer.

Daniel regained his composure and continued “Right after I had received your wedding invitation. It was quite a show”

Philip answered “I had wondered if you had actually received the invitation. We never heard anything about it from you.”

Daniel looked sheepish, “Well you did not expect me to come did you? My disgraced brother illegally marrying a colored woman from the circus, what would people think of me?”

At this, Phillip finally snapped, “Of course I expected you to come! I raised you from the time you started walking to your early teenage years. I sheltered you from father’s rage and expectations and took it myself. I carried the that weight so you could live a happier life. When you started to rebel against him, I had convinced myself that it was for the best, as his approval and inheritance is what I thought I wanted, when in truth, I did not want you to carry it.”

Daniel tried to cut in, but Phillip kept going, “But thankfully I found the circus, Anne, and a new family I did not know I needed. After everything had settled after the fire, I thought instantly of what would happen to you. I kept tabs on you, made sure you were okay, writing to Mary and the other house staff. I thought after all the years the weight I had carried would not be put on you. Then, shortly before the wedding, Mary told me that you had come home, and father was preparing to make you his ‘right hand’ as she put it. I was crushed. That is why I invited you to our wedding; not to gloat, not to cause a scene, but to reach out and reconnect. I did not want you to become what I once was!”

Phillip wanted to continue, but Daniel finally was able to cut in, “It was ignorant for you to think I would not have to bear the weight of father’s wrath after you left! He pestered me for years, telling me what a disgrace you had become and that I was becoming one too. He threatened to cut off if I did not come to learn how to run the company. After years of back and forth, I finally decided to come home to talk about it with father. What I did not know at the time is that he was preparing to force me into the position. But when I arrived home, Mary gave me the wedding invitation. I felt that maybe I had a chance to escape my future like you had, so I went to the circus. I saw how happy you were in the ring and what a showman you had become. And Anne, what a beauty she was. It was obvious how happy you had become. I was hopeful that I could be next.

“But that night, when I returned home, father had planned a welcome home party for me with all his associates. He started to introduce me as his ‘heir’, told people that he was proud of me, and talked about how great it was that I stepped in to fill the spot my disgraceful older brother had abandoned. Phillip, you have no idea how good it felt to hear his approval. All that rebelling in my younger years felt futile now, because now I was you. I had decided that whatever you had to offer was never going to make me feel as great as I felt that night!”

Phillip looked into his baby brother’s eyes. All the men in the Carlyle family have the same colored eyes, but they were usually distinguishable. Now, all Phillip could see were his father’s, ill placed on Daniel’s face.

Daniel continued without mercy, “And it looks like I was right. Your little circus has been failing lately and you have managed to become a father at the same time. What father has been saying all these years were right, you have become a disgrace to the Carlyle name.”

Phillip was hurt by these words. He knew he should fire something back, maybe about becoming a lap dog to the man he had once despised. But he was not mad at his brother in this moment. Instead he saw something familiar. Phillip saw himself, not so long ago, drowning in a world he no longer wanted to be in.

Therefore, he did something neither of them expected, and he ran to hug him.

The brothers had not hugged since they were teenagers. It only happened in the quiet of Phillip’s room, when he was hiding Daniel from their father. Daniel had stopped coming to Phillip after he had taken up his position as father’s right hand, but in this moment, it was like they were children again.

Phillip pulled back from his hug and looked into Daniel’s eyes, “I know you do not want to hear this, but you do not have to become our father. You are always welcomed here to, as someone once called it, the other side. You can trade that typical for something colorful. It's crazy, but you are allowed to live a little crazy. I don’t care if it’s now, next year, or in 20 years, I will always be here for you.”

Phillip let him go after that. After a moment, Daniel turned and left without a word.

The next day, thankfully, the circus has sold some tickets.

Phillip was still at a high from the conversation with his brother. Anne was happy for him because he was able to tell Daniel something that had been on his heart for years.

Anne had insisted that she came to the circus that night. Phillip, in the past, would have discouraged her, not only for her pregnant body’s sake, but also so she would not witness the small crowd.

Tonight, there was no stopping her.

Phillip watched as Anne helped the new trapeze artist put the pink wing on. He could tell it delighted her to touch the prop again.

As the group of oddities were chatting and preparing, they heard the flap to the performers tent open loudly. They all turned toward the noise, as customers were not allowed in the tent.

Phillip went into high alert immediately, ready to put up a fight if the person would not leave quietly, when he noticed it was Daniel.

He looked out of place. Not only because he was surrounded by circus acts, but also because he was in normal civilian clothes, nothing a wealthy man would ever be caught dead in.

Anne was the first to speak, “This is the performers’ tent, civilians are not permitted inside.”

Daniel looked embarrassed, he was so out of place, “Um…I know- I just – uh – wanted to talk to Mr. Carlyle for a moment.”

Phillip stepped up to Daniel to speak, ensuring his top hat was on before doing so. “What do you want Daniel?”

It was obvious that Daniel wanted to speak somewhere private, but Phillip was not having it. Whatever Daniel wanted to say to him, it could say in front of his family.

Daniel looked at the people around him and back at Phillip. He was nervous, but determined, “I know I do not deserve forgiveness from you, but I wanted to say I am sorry for the way I acted yesterday. After seeing you in the circus all that time ago, I was filled with jealously because you had found your place. When father then started giving me his approval, I took it. But after yesterday, when you still offered me a place after the terrible things I said, I realized that father’s right hand is not the place I wish to be. Hence, I thought, if the offer still stands, I could help you run the circus, the business side of course. I want us to be brothers again, to see my nieces and nephews grow up, and to meet your family. What do you say, do you forgive me?”

Daniel stuck out his hand to Phillip.

Phillip did not miss a beat. He grabbed Daniel’s hand and pulled him into a bear hug. The people around them cheered, as if they saw a happy ending to a play. Anne looked adoringly at the pair, knowing that Phillip’s heart must be bursting.

The brothers let go of each other to see they were both teary eyed. Phillip wrapped one of his arms around Daniel’s shoulders and lead him toward the group behind him.

“Well Daniel, now that you are one of us, you need a proper introduction….”

1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 7 ~ 9 ~ 10 ~ 11

#my fanfics #the greatest showman #phillip carlyle #Phillip x anne #anne wheeler #zac efron #zendaya

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wroughtbetwixtfanfic · 4 years

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A Place To Call Home, Ch 7.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really justify the means?

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory, hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw: dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2371

Nasedo stirred inside the stasis pod.

He was alone in his head, the link between himself and Isobel severed, but he felt something else coursing through his body. Something familiar and sublime-- power.

The muscles in his arms flexed. His legs cramped as he began to stretch and push against the confines of the pod. His skin no longer looked decayed, and for the first time in decades, Nasedo felt his heart and lungs expand and contract with ease. Somehow, his body was healing. There wasn't time to ponder how or why; his body was also fighting to be free of its prison, after being trapped for so long. He shoved against the barrier, and this time, it gave way.

He coughed as he tumbled from the pod to the dusty cave floor. The pressure of the rock against his palms was overwhelming. The air that flowed in from outside was grating against his flesh. Crickets chirping outside sounded like hideous sirens to his ears, and the oxygen of the atmosphere made him dizzy. Still. His legs supported him when he stood, even though they wobbled as he tried to walk. Nasedo squinted in the moonlight as he made his way outside of the cave, the brightness of it making pain throb just behind his eyes.

Finally, he was free. There was a moment of joy, before that happiness crashed down into sorrow. At what cost? In their species culture, it was common for warriors to absorb the life force of fallen enemies, or for elders to bless loved ones with their last threads of energy as they ascended to the afterlife. But did it work with humans, too? Could their kind absorb the life force of other species? Nasedo stared at his hands, wanting to vomit. It wasn't right. It was downright ghoulish.

But it was, and he couldn't change that. Not unless...

Despite the fact that his body had repaired itself, enough to exist outside the pod, Nasedo couldn't move with haste. Not yet. He hobbled to where Rosa's corpse-- and where Isobel and her brothers-- should have been, a naive hope fluttering in his chest. Maybe if he got to them, he could explain. Beg for their mercy. Promise to help them, to tell them about home, to teach them to use their powers in exchange for their forgiveness. Perhaps he didn't deserve compassion or their understanding, but surely they would believe that he hadn't intended for this to happen.

Except they were gone. All three aliens, the two dead twits, and Rosa. Completely gone, as if they'd never existed, save for faint drag marks on the ground. Michael, Nasedo realized. He'd moved the bodies, like he had the night that Max killed Isobel's attacker. Travel would be slow. His clothes-- a formal looking uniform that Protectors wore-- had maintained integrity during stasis, but foot coverings weren't common during space journeys and time in stasis had left his skin delicate. Nasedo followed the marks, ignoring the way the sun-scorched rocks and sharp plants bit into his bare feet. He couldn't worry about discomfort just then. He had to catch up with the heirs before they did something ridiculous.

He smelled smoke, and heard the sounds of a loud commotion, before he saw the wreckage. It was too late; they'd already done something ridiculous. Nasedo crouched down, keeping to the shadows as he peered through brush at the scene on the road before him. There were no less than four police cars, another plain black SUV, and a large white van belonging to a medical examiner. A handful of people were mulling around the charred remains of two cars, and the rest were between the medical examiner's vehicle and the SUV. A few members of the second group wore military uniforms.

Fuck. Nasedo eyed the smouldering cars, trying to figure out what in the bleeding stars had happened. The heirs were long gone, for sure, and the fire was nothing more than ash; whatever had occurred, it had been at least half an hour ago. Skid marks on the road. Two cars, both melted. Had they tried to cover up the deaths as a car crash? Nasedo swallowed hard as fear bloomed in his chest. If Rosa's corpse was destroyed, there would be no way to fix what he'd done.

There was only one way to know for sure, and that would be to investigate the scene. Nasedo cursed under his breath in his mother tongue. Before, on their homeworld, it would have been simple to manipulate a dozen individuals into whatever he needed them to do. But here? After being is stasis for so long, rotting away? He had no idea if his powers would work, much less on so many minds.

All he needed them to do was not notice him. His clothing was dark, with nothing remarkable or flashy about it. Perhaps, if he was careful, he could pull it off. If he couldn't, he might as well be dead anyways. Nasedo closed his eyes, focusing. Nothing. Nasedo grit his teeth, digging deep inside his body and clawing for the base of his power. It took longer than he liked, but he felt it there inside his cells, rising up and crackling through his veins. There.

Standing, he walked forward. Stretching out his mind, he let it brush against the minds of the humans present, soothing them and whispering that everything was normal. There was no one to see, nothing out of place. The effort was already draining him, but he didn't need long. He kept to the edges of the scene, walking with purpose and stepping behind people. He, in the minds of the humans, belonged there and knew where he was going. A quick glance at the destroyed cars told him that they were empty. The van, then. The medical examiner had to have her, unless the military had taken them.

Two sheet-covered bodies rested in the back of the van. Rosa's corpse, half naked, was closer to the doors. Nasedo's eyes stung as he saw her laying there. She hadn't deserved such a fate. If he could get past the last group of humans, maybe she wouldn't have to. Thankfully, they were already plenty distracted with each other. The men in the uniforms were arguing with the medical examiners, loudly.

"This is the army's jurisdiction," one yelled. "I demand--"

"If you can explain how this is your jurisdiction--"

Nasedo turned them out as he slipped into the van. The doors faced away from the scene. It would give him just enough cover to escape, if he was careful. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Rosa as he wrapped her completely in the white sheet. She was burned, but whole. There was a chance. "I'll fix this, I promise."

Clutching her to him, he left the van and slinked back to the desert. His head felt like it was being crushed in from every side as he maintained the illusion over the humans, but he had to for as long as he could. Once they realized the dead had gone from three to two, he would only have a short time to hide. He got a five minute start before he felt the mental connection break; he was exhausted, and had to focus on returning to his stasis pod. If the heavens were kind, it would be a few moments more before the humans knew something was wrong.

Kindness, the heavens decided, was something they could spare. Nasedo made it to the caves; he slipped the silver bands off his wrists and coiled them around Rosa's own, gently uncovering her corpse and lowering her into the stasis pod. The mist inside glowed faintly. Damaged as it was, the pod was holding. It would preserve Rosa, long enough for Max to grow older, become stronger, and revive her. It was risky. It had only been done a handful of times in their homeworld's history. Still, it was possible, and a possibility was what Nasedo needed.

He sank down on his knees just outside the cave, closing his eyes and using the last of his energy to manipulate the matter around the cave entrance, sealing it shut so it would appear to be solid stone. It would be just enough to throw off anyone who'd come looking. And in the morning, he would... what, go hunt down Max and Michael, and try to explain himself? Now that he thought about it, the idea was terrible. Nasedo wasn't strong enough to defend himself if they retaliated. He would have to rest, and try to recover what strength he could. If he could. There was no way to know if the power he'd tapped into either was finite, or if it would replenish with time, except to wait.

Isobel. Nasedo turned his gaze towards the city lights, longing seizing his heart. She was out there somewhere, gong through who knew what, because of his foolishness. So many years erased, and who knew what Max would tell her? What would Michael would say? Would they blame her, or keep her safe? Michael. Nasedo tilted his head, considering; Michael had a tendency to cause trouble, and that gave Nasedo an idea. Pushing himself to his feet, Nasedo began to head towards the city, listening carefully for any human activity. It was quiet, beyond the sounds of the desert's nightlife, but that could change in an instant if the humans somehow made a lucky guess on direction.

The only police officer he found was a lone human, snacking on a McMuffin on the outskirts of the city. Illogical, to be so far outside the city, in the dark, without a partner. Nasedo slipped up alongside the rolled-down, driver's side window, resting his hand on the officer's shoulder. The officer froze, then went limp under Nasedo's hand; it didn't take much effort to enter the man's mind. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect. Is there anyone waiting for you at home?"

"No, my wife left me."

"Condolences. Take me to your home. If anyone asks, you forgot your wallet."

The officer frowned, but didn't resist. Nasedo fried the cameras of the car-- child's play-- and climbed into the passenger seat. The drive was silent, and gave Nasedo time to think. The military had known to come to the crash, somehow. Hadn't there been rumors that Michael was hanging around Alex Manes? A military brat, Nasedo recalled. Alex had never registered as a threat, because he was gayer than two unicorns fucking under a rainbow, and an anti-capitalist punk rock type. Maybe he'd been wrong, Nasedo wondered.

Examine the facts, his training reminded him. Rosa was dead, with imprints over her mouth and heart-- an unfortunate side effect of certain powers, like a bruise of sorts. Isobel's memory of Nasedo, in his panic, had been suppressed as much as possible. The heirs had tried to make the deaths appear to be an accident, but with the military presence, there was no way they'd pulled it off. Rosa's corpse had been in the back of a van, the imprints exposed; it was likely that the marks were photographed. If people saw that and knew what it meant, they were all in danger. If Manes, senior, suspected Michael and the heirs of being aliens-- if he'd followed them, or spied on them somehow-- then Nasedo didn't have time to sit idly by. He had to do something to draw Manes' attention away.

As tired as he was, the night was far from over. He had to keep pushing through. The second leg of the plan would mean leaving Roswell, and establishing a human identity. If he was going to protect the heirs-- whether or not they were aware of it-- he would need a human guise to shield himself. And if he knew anything about the human world from the strange criminal dramas that Isobel sometimes watched with Max, it was that forging an identity wasn't that hard if one knew where to look. It was just a matter of blending in, and finding a con to con. Simple. There were enough greedy, immoral souls in the world.

Speaking of which... They had, apparently, arrived at the officer's home.

Parking in the garage, the officer let Nasedo into the home. Nasedo led the man to the bedroom closet, pointing. "Find me something you wouldn't miss." He skittered into the kitchen while the officer pawed through the clothes, using the sleeve of his uniform to avoid leaving fingerprints. He grabbed a discarded plastic bag and tossed in a few things that would be easy to gloss over. An apple, a few bottles of water. In the bathroom, there were a couple bottles of nail polish remover under the kitchen sink. Nasedo snagged those as well, before returning to the bedroom. "Done?"

"Yeah."

A pair of shabby blue jeans, and a button-up shirt that screamed 'mother-in-law gift'. A lightly used pair of running sneakers rested on the floor. It was altogether a bit tighter than Nasedo would have liked, since the man was twiggy, but it was better than bustling around New Mexico resembling a wayward cosplayer. "Alright." He grabbed the officer and dug into his pant pocket, pulling out his wallet and tossing it on the nightstand. "You won't remember me. It was a slow night, so you returned here because you discovered you forgot your wallet. Remember that, yes? I was never here."

The officer nodded, already looking distracted. "My wallet..."

Nasedo glowered at the officer, vitriol welling up in his throat. Law enforcement. They were so akin to their planet's military, filled with violence and egoism. It was less about justice, and more about control. Subjugation of people they saw as lesser was second nature to them. It was tempting to break the man, but that would leave an even worse mess. He had to be careful with this plan. He'd already done too much damage, and couldn't afford more. Not in Roswell. Stuffing his old clothes into another bag, he left the home and headed out into the night.

It was time for his new life to begin.

But first, he had to become bait.

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