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theharellan · 3 years

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Written for Stories of Thedas Volume II. Pairing: Solas & Cole (platonic) Prompt: Library

Masks upon masks. The Winter Palace is strange to Cole, who attends at the Inquisitor's bidding and finds himself at a loss for how to help. Solas comes upon him with ideas for how to cope with the deadly Game.

Read on AO3.

Couples spin on the dance floor, turning and turning, going nowhere and everywhere at once. Their heads fill with daydreams, one gazes into her partner’s eyes through their masks, imagining the hidden corners they could lose themselves in. Another, all he sees is the faint outline of a knife in his companion’s skirts, so all-consuming he almost forgets the steps. A third, their eyes bore holes into the other’s heads, hate springs from love eternal. His eyes dart from one couple to the next, glimpses into minds fraught with thoughts of a Game no one ever really wins.

He breathes in and feels the air catch in his throat. Honeyed words mask the taste of poison, cold compassion, they understand only so they can hurt. It isn’t right, it isn’t fair, it isn’t–

In the blink of an eye he’s in the library, surrounded by pages that whisper the words of yesterday. Not so sharp against his skin. Below, a dead man in the shape of a Warden pretends to stare at a plaque, praying no one will look at him twice, fearing they might see his valourous wings are clipped. It’s still a hurt, a tangle, but he’s trying to help. Cruelty does not become him. He lets out a breath he forgot he was holding, hands coming together to pull at his sleeves.

Oh.

He had forgotten about the uniform. The fabric doesn’t come away at his touch, no matter how hard he tugs.

And he misses his hat.

Cole wonders how long he will wait here, alone with his panic clawing at his throat. In the Spire he spent months isolated, forgotten by all save the one who no longer cares to know him. Suddenly the soft, inviting lights which illuminate the halls of the Winter Palace seem as cold as the dark cells they had kept Rhys in, clapped in irons for crimes Cole committed. Anxiety squeezes every inch of him. He counts the beats of the music that drifts from the distant dance hall, just to assure himself only minutes have passed since he came here.

A door opens behind him, and he nearly jumps into shadow, the Veil waiting to envelop him, drawing him from prying eyes, but a familiar face waits on the other side. “Solas!” he gasps, relieved and ashamed that he had doubted, but grateful most of all.

Solas shuts the door behind him, turning the handle so the latch doesn’t make a sound. “I thought I might find you here.”

That gives Cole pause. He hadn’t known he would find himself here, until it happened. “But I don’t read.” The books here are newer than those kept in the Pit, some hum with the occult, others recount poems about the shape of a woman’s hips, but he still doesn’t read. There isn’t a question in his tone, but Solas hears it, all the same.

“This place can be overwhelming for anyone, even without accounting for your abilities. Books carry meaning, but without eyes upon them those meanings are static. Far easier to take in,” he answers as he walks towards him, gait stiffer than usual. His feet had forgotten what it was like to wear shoes. Solas has been quiet that evening, quieter than usual, the stem of a glass glued between his fingers, bottomless. He lets his hat do his talking for him, the Drasca’s dissent lived on atop his head. He stops beside Cole, leaning upon the marble rail, gloved hands bearing weight. His eyes turn upon him, no brimmed hat to hide behind. “Are you all right?”

He pulls on his sleeves, this time he thinks he feels a thread come loose. “Yes... No? There are two faces for every person.” The Left Hand smiles and laughs, she comes alive, but inside it’s cold and cruel. The rose withers upon the vine. He finds the thread with his finger and pulls, but it doesn’t break. It unravels, further and further, if he keeps going his whole sleeve will be an unspooled mess on the floor. “I don’t know which to look at. I-I don’t know how to help.”

Solas reaches out, subduing his worrying hands with a single, steady touch. A gentle gesture, despite the blood which stains them. Sometimes they do not seem so different from his own, they remember the bodies because forgetting would be worse. Killer’s hands, but there is no deceit in their tenderness. Solas wraps the thread around his finger, string bright white against his brown glove, and he tugs. It snaps, suddenly brittle, and falls to the floor to be swept away by a servant who will never know they were here. A comforting hand is placed deliberately on his shoulder blade, and Cole stills. He inhales, eyes snapping from the abandoned thread to Solas. There is kindness in his eyes, quiet assurance. He has seen this all before and he will make it easier to bear. So many tricks just to make it through a day, an evening, an hour. “You will not find much compassion in these affairs, any help you offer will be perceived as duplicitous, a means to get what it is you desire.”

“Then I… shouldn’t help?”

He hesitates, delaying his answer with a moment’s deliberation. “The choice is ultimately yours, but their comfort should not come at the cost of your peace of mind.” His hand slowly falls from his back as Cole turns his advice around in his head. “While we are waiting for the Inquisitor to call upon us, rather than mend the missing pieces in strangers’ lives, perhaps I may help you.”

“Help me?” He searches Solas’ eyes for answers, compassion seeking solace in pride. They are quiet, revealing only as much as intended. Cole chips at the cracks in the rock and hopes for water to spring forth, but he guards his sorrows like a wolf guards her den.

“Would you care to learn how to dance?”

A dozen thoughts pile into the spirit’s head, most too quick to catch, but he grasps one by the tail. “Do spirits dance?”

Solas claims spirits are people, and each day that belief is realer in Cole’s own mind, reinforced by the Herald and Solas himself. He need not change to be loved, or understood, he need only be himself. But if he is a person, then he is not a person the way Varric is, or Cassandra, or even Solas. There’s a touch of sadness in the corner of his smile, as though he is sorry the question needs to be asked. “I suppose it falls to us to answer together,” he replies patiently with an offered palm.

Uncertain how it will help, but ready to trust that it can, he takes Solas’ hand.

“Listen closely,” he says, but he declines to speak again. Cole’s instruction takes a different turn, a manicured glimpse through a window into Solas’ soul.

“Delicate hand folded like a paper crane between my shoulders, her eyes shine like the gold she deals in when I take to the dance.” Josephine had poured so much into tonight, all her smiles and favours, anything that will see the Inquisition prevail. “She didn’t think you would be asked to dance, but she was afraid if you didn’t learn, someone would.”

“Her time was likely better spent elsewhere,” he agrees, “though nothing would have given me more pleasure tonight than refusing one of Celene’s court. Listen again, parse the thoughts which cloud the memory and see how we move.” Cole nods, and concentrates. He remembers the palm tucked in the valley between Solas’ shoulders, and he moves his there. His feet, too, he moves in line with his hips. It’s strange, focusing upon his own body and the space it takes up in the world. Lighter now that he has chosen compassion, but still very much real, empty only in the seconds the air rushes from the chambers of his lungs.

He feels eyes upon him, questioning, searching for confirmation before the music dares move them. “I’m ready.”

When Solas steps forward, Cole steps back, like they’re two puppets on the same musical string. He clips his strides, travelling farther faster than Solas can hope to without magic to carry him there. Awkward at first, but with each beat he feels him join with the dance that exists in his head. Old melodies, half-remembered, play in distant memories. Like the sky he knew it, once, but made himself forget. Dancing wasn’t always this way, was it?

Solas remembers. Feet too full of motion to keep his thoughts safe in his head, they spill onto the fabric of the world where Cole breathes them like his own. Memories of moving on a dancefloor to a familiar tune, swaying with the stars themselves, spinning until they parted from the earth. He swells with pride, a beast alive beneath his ribcage, it thrives and fights and inspires. When they dance the heavens and the earth move, and an empire holds its breath. It fears what dread the dawn will bring, but his People find freedom in the impromptu steps.

“What are you two doing here?” A voice snaps the string. Halamshiral looks different than it did heartbeats ago, all the magic hidden in dark corners (all the elves, too). When Cole turns to see the servant who disturbed them, he’s surprised to see a bare face behind her plain mask, and a second later cannot recall why.

With silver eyes she stares at him, unblinking. “She can see me.”

“A consequence of our dance, I believe.” Yes, he can feel it. Solas fades with each passing second, growing distant as his hand falls from his waist. “It will fade in a moment.” He speaks as though she is not there, but he’s waiting. It’s another dance, only it’s Cole’s turn to lead.

Cut loose, he turns his attention to the woman. Fear flows through her veins, the dagger beneath her sleeve is ready to open theirs. Beneath the steel, her heart wavers. Stranded between duty and love. “I’m warning you-”

“There’s still time,” he says. “She waits for you beside the fountain where you wished away Your Lady’s collection.” There were wiser things to do with gold, but oh how they’d laughed with every dream plunged into the water.

Cole steps forward and she braces, but not fast enough. “Forget.”

Time is unmade behind her eyes, and she slips the mask from her face to rub the last place she’d been kissed. Gone as quickly as she came, with new purpose in her step.

“It seems you found a way to help someone, after all,” Solas remarks after the library door has shut behind her. “You never fail to impress.”

Something in him shines brighter, bolstered by his pride. “Thank you.” He falters, looking down at his feet, curling his toes inside their boots. “I’d like to try another dance, if you think there’s time.”

A laugh coloured wine red parts Solas’ lips, punctuated by a snort that makes Blackwall down below look around for its source. “I believe there is time for one more,” he says, outstretched palm seeking Cole’s hand. “Since you have devised a way to put off intruders, I daresay we have all the time in the world.”

It isn’t a lie, but neither is it true. Like the golden caprice coins that shine beneath the lovers’ reunion, Solas’ words glow like wishes.

#dragon age #solas #cole dragon age #cole #storiesofthedas2 #storiesofthedas #a pain you can't heal ( cole )#( my writing )#wicked eyes & wicked hearts ( quests )#[ this was actually started like a year ago as a warm-up for adding cole to my multi so i figured i'd finally finish it... ]#[ pls dont make me repost this tumblr ]

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herald-divine-hell · 3 years

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Moonlight Upon Shadow

A/N: Did Herald actually write something that has to do with an AU? Dastardly, I say. It’s mainly just fluff and Leli thirsting for Avvar Amayian, but this was stuck in my head for a while.

Silver light from moon and star played about the darken lake, ripples of light shivering across the shadow-filled blue, the gray stone-clattered floor glittering like gems in stone. Misting breath puffed streamers into the air, up into the pool of star-speckled night, clouds glittering white-gold by the tiny moons as they strolled slowly across the skies. High winds whistled gently above the glade, rustling bare branches and quivering moss and vines on the great walls of rounded stones that facing toward the encircling dark forest. Moonlight dripped tears of white over the paling green-crowned gray stone, brightening the light crust of snow, crunching beneath her feet as Leliana shifted, drawing her arms tighter around her. She fought back a shiver. Though the wind was high, those that reared down had winter’s bite, cutting through her leathers with blades sharper than steel and colder than ice.

“You are cold,” a voice at her side whispered, though it ran across the silent glade like thunder in a night sky.

Leliana glanced toward the voice, hiding a grimace within herself as her eyes trailed up to stare at the mountain of a man. Silver-white trickled down thick dark locks, some knotted tight in large braids, falling past his shoulders. A well-oiled braided-beard glittered with streaks of silver, some peppering his black hair. Despite the silver, he could not have been older than a man of twenty-six, but the wrinkles at his eyes, the faint gauntness at his cheeks made him seem older. High cheekbones reared from a chiseled face like one carved off a mountain’s cliffside, with the coldness and hardness of one, too. An icy glare burned in his almond-shaped, tilted silver eyes, glowing bright by moonlight. He was tall, as tall as a Qunari; Leliana only reached up to the underside of his chest. Broad-shoulders ran down to thickly-corded muscles, as strong as a bull and as thick as a tree trunk. The long, jagged blade, thick near the hilt and thinning with a clean cut and sharp point, was made of ice, enchanted with a constant misting of white pooling off it. Light and shadow ran across the surface of the blade in ripples, the blue darkening and lightening like a sky. A great white bear fur cloak covered his massive shoulders, his long braid thrown over a shoulder, falling near his hip. A remnant of snow frosted his locks. He made no move to melt it. And Leliana did her best to ignore the coarse covering of black chest hair, whispering of warmth, sliced with a long ravine of a scar, crawling down his right shoulder to his waist in a slash.

She wanted to say no, but she remained quiet, leather-gloved fingers tightening around her arms as she drew into herself. Amayian Summer-Breaker was as frigid as the mountains he took as his rule. It made sense. Leliana knew he did not hail from the Frostbacks. A tilt of an accent whispered of the Marcher cities to the north, his name bearing one of an ancient Lord of Ostwick. How he got here and how did he become the Thane of Thanes was something Leliana was not quite sure. And she did not like not knowing. Perhaps that was why she joined him on this hunt, to learn more about the Inquisition’s new ally. What she had so far could count as little more than crumbs from a breadbasket. The man was as talkative as the cliffs near the lake; and somehow Leliana knew she would have gotten more from them than the Avvar.

But it was necessary, was it not? she thought. No one truly knew the Shadow-Walker. He took control of a small tribe and united all the others, either by bloodshed or by deeds or by words. And that was all that was important. Important to him, anyway. Who cared about the past when the present is what needed to be focused on? The past held secrets, however, and secrets was Leliana’s song.

“We will have to continue the hunt after the snow melts,” said the Thane, tilting his head up, the war-paint marked curved nose twisted as he sniffed the air. “Another storm is coming, and we need rest.” He glanced down, icy daggers melting to winter winds in those eyes. “Come.” He turned and marched on, long strides carrying him where Leliana would need six more to match.

With his broad back faced away from her, Leliana allowed the grimace to crawl over her face. She was half-of-mind to find another shelter for her to take, as she watched Shadow-Walker strode toward the cliffs, a large hand resting on stone. Lines of blue light flecked up, vining in circles and sharp turns before the wall creaked up with a low groan. “Come,” he called again, neither a command nor a question.

Muscles bundling at her jaw, shivering as another wind drifted down from the pitchy skies, bringing another burst of brittle bites, she followed, snow and frosted grass crunching and echoing with her steps.

Warmth rushed so heavily and quickly, another burst of shivers rackled through Leliana’s body. Amber light blossomed like sunlight at dawn, and she blinked the tears welling in her eyes away.

As her eyes adjusted, she found her slightly impressed by the sight. The cave was large and spacious, necessary for the Thane’s great height. A small long table marched at a side, with high-backed stone chains cushioned by wolf fur. Scones of blue-gray ice burned with silver-tipped amber fire. At the center, a golden-scarlet fire roared on stone slabs, lit a life by magic, shimmering the stones beneath in a soft sheen.

At the far back, a raised platform was covered in pelts, from bears to wolves, some folded on top of one another to serve as make-shift pillows. Some seemed to have been knitted to be actual pillows by the Thane. The wall curved into an alcove, a deep pit that could fit seven Lelianas pressed side to side all the way to the edge of the raised platform. Far big enough for the Thane to lay in. More than enough for Leliana. Tiredness tugged at her bones at the sight, the warmth flooding her lips in drowsiness.

Amayian was patting the clothes down, fluffing the pillows, before turning back to Leliana. “You are still shivering.” His fingers went to the emerald gem broach at his wide chest, unclasping it. Tugging it off, he flung it easily around her shoulders. It was large enough that it obscured her body from view. It smelt faintly of the man, of a sweet burning fire. And it was warm, too, still clinging to the warmth of the Thane.

“Thank you,” said Leliana, beginning to shrug it off. “But I do not need it—”

Large hands clasped around hers. Even with the gloves on, heat burned off him those collapsed palms and fingers. Gently, he tugged it back into place, a stubbornness frosting his hard stare. “No,” he said, voice clipped like ice and hard as stone. “You need this more than I.” He turned and pointed with his head. “You will sleep there.” Nodding, as if that was the end of the argument, he walked to a part of the stone walls, opposite the table. Reaching another hand to the wall, it shivered and groaned as it lifted up, a line of silver falling the length of a jagged-cut bolder. “There is a little pond where you can bathe, if you wish. I have some pelts you could use while your clothes dry. I will deal with that.”

Warmth tickled Leliana’s cheeks as her brows furrowed. “That is all well and good, but where will you be sleeping, exactly?”

“I will fashion myself another bed to sleep on.” He pointed toward another wall. “It will not take long, enough of a time for you to bathe.” His eyes glossed over her head, gaze fixated at the doorway that slammed shut behind her, cutting off the cold, dying wind from the heat-filled cave. “Tomorrow I will go find us some food.”

Arms crossing beneath the heavy, warm fur cloak, Leliana dipped her hip to the side. “And I have your word that you will do nothing besides what you afford.”

His hand crossed over his chest, fingers twisting in an ancient Avvar manner that spoke of a promise over his broad-chest, to die if broken. “You have my word, Nightingale Sister.”

The sternness of his eyes told her that she would not worry about that oath breaking; so, reluctantly, she gave a nod and walked toward the opened pathway to the in-cave lake. Her steps echoed in the high-ceiling cave, jagged points glistening like teeth overhead, and she passed Summer-Breaker, that scent of sweetly burning wood and its warmth filled her. “How will you know if dawn came?”

Without the cloak, she could freely see his broad shoulders, his heavy muscles, his wide chest covered in warpaint and scars and hair. Scars littered his hard face, cutting like dashes of white warpaint, some wide, others thinned. It gave him a darker, harder look. But the touch of scarlet and gold splattered like sunlight fluttering across a frozen lake, softening its chilled stare. Amber softly melted the hardness, an under touch of ruby burning his copper skin. “There are other pathways I know that lead to the top of the cliffs we are under. I will check in the morning, and wake you if you wish to join the hunt.”

Despite herself, Leliana smiled, as she tugged the cloak harder around her. “I will like that, Thane.”

He nodded and turned away from her, striding to the other wall, and another loud groan and he was swallowed by the spit of darkness, only a faint whisper of blue light and the hiss of melting stone gave answer that he still lived. Flutters of fire echoed from the pathway, amber spilling out like water from the widening corridor.

Well, I got something, at least. This cave was old, which meant Amayian had lived here for a long while, before he became Avvar. He treated each wall he touched with delicacy, as if recalling past memories. How many other such caves existed, ones he knew like the back of his hand? Perhaps tomorrow more news will slither out, more signs for Leliana to decipher, secrets for her to unravel.

And she truly did enjoy unraveling secrets.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age ocs #my ocs #ocs #amayian trevelyan #leliana #dragon age leliana #leliana x inquisitor #inquisitor x leliana #da #dai #dragon age fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #amayian x leliana #fluff #avvar au #avvar amayian

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writingsofmyimagination · 4 years

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28 Days |Epilogue|

GIF by: @suggamiin

Genre: Werewolf Au (Jimin x Reader) Part 1 Part 2

Rating:18+

Summary: It’s your birthday and well...you get treated. Sinful PWP to end this.

Word Count:3188

Warnings: Swearing,Smut - Slight exhibitionism, sex toys (cock ring) SUB Jimin... I repeat Sub Jimin.

Final Part!!!!! Loved this sooo much.

@safi4x @nerdygaloresposts @sockie-the-dumbass @jimin-75

You were gratefully stolen from your nightmare of failing your end of year exams by the soothing scent of waffles. The glucose of the maple syrup powerful but tantalising to your drowsy senses. Dragging yourself from the comfort, you made a stumble to the kitchen area. A waffle sliding off the spatula onto the plate, his neck nudging his head into your newly emerged direction. You went to retrieve your fluffy dressing gown from the arm of a chair. His gaze briefly frozen on the curves of your behind feebly covered by the black lace hot pants teasing from under his shirt. The only skin available for your eyes to feast on was the occasional trail of veins running down his arms. Ripped denim skinnies sat over black and white vans, laces gleaming white. Red tee with the cutest pocket over his chest fitted and tucked into his leather belt. Heaven forbid he ever look scruffy to go out.

“Take a picture it lasts longer” you toyed covering the view and making your way over to him

“How many times have I asked you?” he countered serving the question straight back

“No, you’ve asked me if you can film us fucking, slight difference” your return bouncing the un-returnable ball in his court.

“Hey I’ve needed something while you’ve been busy revising and FINE! I’m asking now” He pulled you closer by your behind, hands having a firm squeeze for breakfast. You dodged his incoming kiss, leaning to the side to slide your finger through the maple syrup drizzled on your plate. His eyes frozen on the way your finger disappeared in your mouth and sucked on the digit he easily wished was his cock.

“I’m more hungry for actual food right now” You pecked him on the cheek kidnapping the plate from behind him.

“You’re insufferable when you tease you know that”

“You have your finals to focus on today”

“I know I know” His leather jacket sliding on his shoulders smooth as silk.

“Good luck”

“Happy Birthday baby” The drawn-out kiss on your forehead brought a beaming smile to your lips, insides heating up to a pleasant warm fuzz. Before he had the chance to straighten out your hands captured the back of his neck dragging him into a heated kiss which he fell weakly for.

“Remember to wear something nice for me later”

“As if I’d let you take me out in anything but. Can you not even give me a hint?”

“Nope”

You had no idea how dressy you needed to be.

Are we going out out or just just out?

Opting for as mid ‘out’ as you could you dug out your button front dress. The dress was belted with a silk tie, it stopped mid-thigh scooping slightly at the sides. The chest and long sleeves were laced in a pretty delicate floral pattern. Your hair was curled swooped over one shoulder and pinned. White hi-top converse snug on your feet.

Fuck heels, I need comfort

He rocked up at your door in black skinnies which were tight around his thighs.

Jesus lord mother of Mary

That alone could make your mouth hit the floor. The cotton fresh white v neck tugged tight into his gold buckled belt. The same leather jacket, silver zips scattered across in silver strips. Face bright, the concoction of exams going well and the reaction to the approved visuals of you.

“Ready?”

“Don’t I look ready?”

“I mean you look stunning but did you really have to wear something so easily taken off?”

“Is that a complaint?”

“More of a why do you have to be such a teasing bitch?” he chuckled as you swatted his arm.

He blindfolded you as soon as you got to his car.

You were cautious to your feet guided by Jimin until he ordered you to stop.

“Don’t move”

“Like I’m going to wander off” you shot back.

A click was the only thing reaching your ears. The smell of the room was familiar but your brain was too intrigued and giddy to bother working out why.

The blindfold fell from your face leaving only scrunched up eyebrows until the glint above you drew your attention. You were in the university library, the floor normally underneath tables had been pushed to the side, table legs flaying the air. It was astronomy week and the students had secured fairy lights to the ceiling in the shape of a star constellation. The blinds were shut, the fairy lights intermittently twinkling above you; like diamonds on a royals crown. He emerged from behind the desk with a wicker picnic basket and a rolled chequered blanket tucked under his arm. His sweet smile only subtly laced with triumph. Your gaze still fixed on the false sky.

“I know how comforting you find the library and how much of grump you get when your cold so didn’t want to take you out…”

“I love it!” you beamed nearly knocking the picnic basket from his grasp as you smothered him with a hug; his free hand steadying the influx of your weight against him.

“But If you haven’t got sausage rolls in there I will seriously reconsider our relationship” you teased plonking yourself down on the cleared floor atop the blanket.

“They were the first thing I picked up” he calmed.

“Ready for your present?”

“Mmmhmm” you hummed mouth full of scotch egg. Jimin fished out a small box from his pocket.

“Well open it. I’m not proposing” he beckoned after your stared at it for a moment too long.

“Jimin it’s beautiful” you cooed looking and the tear drop pendant weaved in your fingers. The outside ripples of silver, the main body was crystal clear, shimmering as you tilted your hands.

“Look closer” he urged. You did as you were told for once.

“How did you…?”

“You’d be surprised at who Yoongi has as contacts” he explained. Carved into the gem was the unmistakeably twizzled in swirls of patterns of haemoglobin. Something heavily involved in your thesis and wanted to specialise in in regards to how some viruses attack this area.

“I knew your nerd ass would love it and all jokes aside you give me so much life and I do feel sometimes you’re my oxygen that I need flooding through me to live” he paused.

“You know like haemoglobin”

“I’m more than aware of its function Jimin” you chuckled. He was sweet; the sweetness coaxed water to fill your eyes with none of it falling.

“I love you too you big softy” You were already clipping the chain around your neck. He lent over to you lips pressing hard into you. The other gift he’d presented was far less innocent.

“Are you planning on getting the strawberries and cream out or what?” you mouthed speaking into his kiss, lightly grappling at his bottom lip. The sucrose in the air was all too suffocating.

“Are you not sweet enough?” he teased failing to hold his cringe filled laugh. You lightly shoved his chase away from you.

“Get that cheese away pllleeaase” you begged. In order to maintain your dignity your leg was slightly bent and raised before you. Your thigh was more exposed but at least your underwear was covered.

“Oops” You shook your head, the cool cream conveniently dripping onto your thigh as Jimin fed you the last but one strawberry. As straight as his face was his true intention hadn’t been masked in his eyes.

“Well are you going to clear up your mess or not?”

“Well if you insist”

You planted both hands behind you leaning back, his warm tongue collecting the cool cream escaping down your thigh.

“I think you taste sweeter” he hummed, his tongue spanning his lips before disappearing back into his mouth. Your sudden movements caught him off guard. Enough to let you have advantage and push his weight back enough to fight yours to be on top. You scrunched his shirt up to his neck. Perfect olive skin. Muscles taught and firm under his skin. His eyes diligent in following the drips of cream pooling over his stomach, his muscles twitched at the temperature. The last strawberry dragged through the milky coating on his skin before half of it disappeared in your mouth.

“I think you do”

“Why don’t you come up over here so I can taste you again?” You were by no means going to say no but you were going to tease him until he pleaded for it. You stood, shimmying out of your underwear. His brows knitting together when you sat back down still over his hips and not his face.

“Don’t pout!” the buttons on the front of your dress one by one slowly became unhooked. His hands automatically resting firm on your hips after his hands quickly laid claim to your chest.

“I just thought I’d make myself that bit sweeter for you”

“And how do you think you can do that?” he challenged. He was too busy admiring your front he’d not seen your hands dip behind and retrieve the cream pot.

“Like this?” You watched the trail make its way down through the valley of your breasts running over your stomach to pool in between your thighs and run down his sides. His eyes now shifted to your core laced in creamy glucose.

“Fuck princess” he whined, those unstoppable flecks raging in his eyes.

“Get up here now!”

Excuse me?

Your expression clearly mirrored your thoughts

“Please” his tone so whiny compared to his last demand.

His purr vibrated at your core, cream smudging around his lips. The cat who definitely got the cream. Your hand flew to his tangle in his hair, the other flying out to secure yourself against the beech desk in front of you. Nail meeting the smooth surface with nothing to grip onto.

Your head dropped; his eyes were closed held together in the total ecstasy of you. Only when the moans started trickling from your lips did his eyes burn up hard into you. The more pressure he put against your core the less you were able to hold his clouded over fuelled red eyes. This boy could have you cumming on his tongue quicker than anyone else. Whether it was because he could hear your heartbeat or the whole essence thing made it more intense but it he could have you so damn quick. You knew he was taking his time; any other day you’d already be begging him for your third release already, easy. The torturous slow stripes he made with his tongue had the deep groans boiling in your throat.

“Please make me cum already” you whined tugging his hair, grabbing his attention to your face and not the feast he was making between your legs He’d kept you dancing on the edge for too long.

“Make yourself” he coaxed in between the breathes he was catching up on. It wasn’t a sarcastic comeback. Definitely not.

“Want me to ride that pretty face of yours?” current roles subtly switching.

“Mmmhmm” he hummed swiping your arousal from his lips with his tongue, eyes blown, completely fucked out. You breathed a ‘sigh’ with a jesting eye roll. You were inebriated, addicted to how he loved it when you used him to get off. He was equally to you using him. His head stayed docile, his tongue a podium still and stiff for you to take your prize. Both your hands now steadied against the desk, hips gyrating over him.

No longer would he dance you along the jagged edge of your release. You threw yourself off, all the weight of previous refusals crashing on top of you. You fell hard. Your head hung; exhausted for a moment before giving Jimin room to breathe.

“Does this hurt?” You teased palming his cock straining against the tight denim of his jeans. The hiss and chokes echoing in the room answering your questions with perfect clarity.

“Well we can’t have that”

“Go behind the desk” He did as he was told.

“Why have I never thought about fucking you over the library desk” He cursed himself.

“I never said you were going to fuck me” Swirling the new cock ring he’d bought for you round your finger.

“Guarantee you’ll need me to fuck you when you’ve finished toying with me”

He always fucking knows.

His top discarded, slung over the top of the desk that shielded you from the rest of the library. Your hands guiding themselves across the perfect sculpture of his back, nails purposely leaving red trails. The cool leather of his belt resting against your skin. The front of his jeans pulled down his cock strained with the ring. Gargled moans and pants disrupting the calm of the library each time you hand gripped and moved.

“Going to beg yet?”

“No..o” Your hand snaked up his back, hair taught in your wrists.

“How about now? You breathed dangerously close to his ear, back arching in a crescent obediently to you. Vibration now throbbing through his already painful member. Neck strained, unrestrained grunts bobbing his adams apple. He blissfully regretted the present he got for you already; not too much though.

“Fuck” he whined, restraint and control leaking from his voice.

“Okay okay” Tolerance snapping as you your hands stroked him in a torturous slow movement

You stopped, pushed the power switch on the ring. Straightening yourself. Hands staying where the stilled; a potential threat if his words were not satisfactory.

He took whatever breath he could into his lungs, knuckles white gripped on the table.

“Pleeease let me fuck you, please let me cum mmm…. hand, mouth I don’t care” His arms struggled not to buckle, desperation thick through his strength.

“Are you that desperate that you don’t even care anymore?” Your thumb glazing over the end of his cock.

“Jesus…yes” his voice breaking in sync with his cracked resolve. With him facing the front you could only see his jaw tensing up, the side of his eyes straining to stay open.

“Are you that desperate that you don’t even want to make me cum before you?”

“mmm…No!”

Correct answer!

“Good boy” you praised

“Now I’m going to turn this back on and you’re going to wait until I allow you to cum. You’ve got to fuck me now. I’m dying to have you inside me”

Unanimous profanities bubbled into the room; bodies finally entwined. You both stilled, him fully inside you. Everything just felt too good. Senses overwhelmed with sweet sensations. Your arms crossed at the back of his neck fingertips tight to his skin. The perspiration glazing his forehead mingling with yours. Both looking down to where you connected.

“Ready?” asking and clenching around him at the time had him pinning his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Mmm” he breathed breathing through your torturous tensing.

“Words” you lightly scolded clenching again. His throat bobbed tense.

“Yes” he finally managed.

The throbbing vibrations resumed through him. The patch on top of the ring now vibrated through your clit each time he jolted his hips into you. His laboured breathing indicative of him holding back, funnelling control in his movements. Hot air swirling between you. Your head incapable of moving against the firm hand keeping your head with his. The muscles in your legs tensing, verging on cramping with how tight they gripped at his waist keeping the vibrations on you as much as possible. His bucks sudden and precise, enough apart that he can just about hold onto himself.

“Fuck, please give… it up to…” He was desperate, he needed you to cum so badly so you would show mercy on him.

“Hold it” you ordered. He whimpered, uncertain of his ability to do as he was told. His head drooped to the nook of your neck teeth latching on in a weak attempt to transfer some of the frustration and distraction somewhere else. He choked when your legs locked and pulled him as close as humanly possible. His restricted movement gave you the control to circle your hips around him directing the vibrations in the rhythm you needed. His hot breathes became jagged, fanning across the front of your shoulder.

“Count to 3 then cum for me baby” You panted.

“1” his hips snapped once.

“2” you clenched around him, controlling your muscles not to give. His moans stuttered.

“3” the count was almost breathless; almost devoid of sound. You arched into him shoving the vibrating pack back harsh against your clit, tightening around him again.

Swear words groaned out of his mouth, your core pulsing around him in waves washing you with serotonin. The rush of exaggerated senses never stopped overwhelming you too see white spots shadowing your visions. Sex with your essence was ridiculously other worldly; normal sex now completely transcended. You viced onto his body until his hips finished jerking.

Ugh! No condom, going to be an uncomfortable trip home. But..

“Jesus you’re going to kill me” he panted as you tapped at his hips

Move back

Powering down the ring, slipping it off with a grunt from him.

“Well you got me this remember so really you’ve done yourself in” Your index fingertip beckoning a hot soft kiss to your lips.

“I want one more thing from you baby”

“Anything” he confessed popping the buttons of his jeans back into looking decent.

“I’m not making my way home with your mess dripping out of me. Clean it up” You couldn’t decide who donned the filthier smirk Jimin or you. Within a beat he was on his knees, tugging a leg over his shoulder. Hurrying your hands behind you stabilising yourself from cracking your head on the top level of the desk. A gargled groan eliciting from the flicks of his tongue, the sensitive nub quietly welcoming the soft warm strokes. When his motions became less focused on collecting and began to circle more at your clit you gripped and yanked his hair.

Fuck, he looks sweet

“Look at you with your own cum glistening on your chin…so sexy” The visual pulled at the recovering coils in your core; but the light smile on your face slowly erupted into a small laugh. In retaliation he bounced up forcing an unbalancing harsh kiss. Transferring the chimera of your climaxes to your lips. You fingers teasing your buttons at the front of your dress closed, away from the already wandering eyes of Jimin.

“You taste so good mixed with me” He purred burying into your neck inhaling the after sex intoxicating scent he swooned for.

“Stop talking like that or I’ll wanna fuck you again” you warned. He burrowed further hands tightening at your hips

“And?” he countered

“I’d much rather you take me back home so I can do it with YOUR new favourite toy”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” His body remembering how hard he came with the new purple strap on you loved torturing him with.

“Having you in tears begging for me to go harder is all the present I need”

#bts #ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #sub-bts-network #kwritersworldnet #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #jimin x reader #bts smut #BTS jimin #park jimin #28 days

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demaury · 4 years

Text

little adjustments (4k words, on ao3)

It’s stupid to be mad at your husband. They’re not that kind of couple anyway. They’ve reached the unattainable level of wholesome that their friends dream about. High school sweethearts turned husbands, two successful jobs, a flat reasonably big for the three of them and not too expensive, a baby, and above all, eight years of marriage and not a scratch, not a crack, not a fight — that’s just how perfect it all is. They’re the Lallemant-Demaury.

So who cares if Eliott is a little late?

OR; Eliott is late and Lucas isn't as happy as he lets people think he is.

THURSDAY, 17:21

“What do you mean ‘I should go’?”, Lucas repeats, frowning to himself as he stands up from the couch. There’s a sound in the background, on the other end of the line, like a door closing and people talking, and Lucas presses his phone even tighter against his ear. He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that at all. “Eliott, seriously, you promised you’d find a way to leave early!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a little delay, I swear,” Eliott insists, nearly pleading. Quiet footsteps take him further away from the voices and Lucas huffs in frustration.

Of fucking course. He glares at the wall of their living-room, crossing one arm over his chest and tucking his hand under his left elbow. “The appointment is at 18h15! How much more time do you need?”

Unbelievable. They’ve picked that particular appointment because they knew it’d work well with Eliott’s schedule — a schedule that is in large part composed of work-days ending at 17h00. Now it’s almost 17h30 and it’s a given that they won’t be at the hospital in time, no matter if Eliott finds a way to pop up here, in the middle of their apartment, in the next fifteen minutes.

Eliott seems to ponder his answer, either because he truly has no idea or because he knows Lucas won’t like the answer. Either fucking way, he hates it. He’s about to start pestering some more when his husband starts talking again. “I don’t know, hm,” Eliott says carefully, and uh-oh, that’s the tone he uses when ‘hm Lucas, baby, there’s a possibility I may have screwed up with the washing machine’. Amazing. “It’s, uh, it’s difficult to say. They insisted to review some works from my project team, you know those inspired by a night-”

“A night in Tokyo, yeah, I know,” Lucas completes with a small sigh.

Eliott has been hit by a wave of inspiration after watching a documentary on the Japanese town a few months ago and ever since he’s been working so much to put together a whole atmosphere, going as far covering their living-room and his office at work with printed pictures of the town, why does it have to be today of all day that he gets called in to show them?

There’s a small silence, until Eliott breaks it. “Lucas?” he calls out quietly, and he sounds a little nervous. “We’ve already gone through about half of it I’d say, we have a few more boards left but I can tell them I have an emergency.”

“No it’s fine.” Your daughter meeting her cardiologist isn’t worth shortening a meeting, he almost says, but he quickly catches himself. Fuck he’s the worst. When did he become such an ass? He can thank his brain-to-mouth filter for keeping the snide comment in, because he really doesn’t need Eliott to break down right now. His right hand breaks free from under his elbow and rubs his forehead. “You know what, you’re right, I’ll just go to Necker and you’ll join me there whenever you can.”

“I’m so sorry,” Eliott says, “I swear I’ll do my best to be there.”

Considering the Parisian traffic, fat chance it doesn’t happen, but Lucas forces himself to stay positive. He can do that. He’s not even remotely close to what people would call an optimist, but he can be optimistic for the next hour.

“Sure, see you there,” he mumbles, unconvinced, before disconnecting the call with a final exchange of ‘love you’.

Eliott is the person he loves most on this fucking planet — husband of nearly ten years and all — but God he’s too nice. He never knows when and how to say no, which means that he’s never ever on time, and medical appointments are by far his weakest spot.

(Well, appointments in general, to be fair.)

(What can he expect from someone who arrived late on their wedding day?)

(God, he loves him so much but he’s such a dork.)

He tucks his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and exits the living-room, trying his best to avoid the mental image of himself sulking like a 12yo. Come on, he’s 30. He doesn’t sulk. At worst he’s annoyed. And anxious. Yeah. Anxious. Anyone in his position would be anxious. He has the right to be. After all he’s got a cardiac baby at home, a cardiac baby who needs a check-up.

He makes his way through the flat, padding in the hall until he reaches the last door to the right, just across from their bedroom. Everything is quiet on the other side of the door, which doesn’t really help him feel better. Twisting his mouth in resignation, he pushes it open slowly, letting the warm light of the hall flooding the bedroom as he pads in. His socked feet meet the plushy rug on the floor when he arrives next to the crib, a soft hand trailing over the edge as he rounds it.

As usual, Elina is sleeping on her back, with her two arms thrown on each side of her head.

She looks like she’s saying ‘fuck it’, he had observed the first time he had seen her asleep, and Eliott had given him a kick of the elbow in the ribs. He had hated every second of the five minutes they had spent watching their prospective child from behind a large window, like she was some kind of zoo animal — she was just so small and so lonely in a crib far too big for Lucas’ taste, no matter how colorful the nursery was and how gentle the people working there were.

Lucas lets a hand hover above her head, his fingers lightly brushing her hair, combing until she starts to stir a little and lets out faint, sleepy grunts.

“Hi baby,” Lucas whispers gently, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Elina throws her tiny fist in the air as she wakes. It’s always a stretch to wake her up when she’s so peacefully asleep, and it’s not for nothing that he’s conveniently chosen to believe everyone telling him to let the baby sleep until they wake up on their own. Consider it payback, Basile had suggested once when he tried to make his point crossed. She keeps you up at night after all. There are so many wrong things about this that Lucas hadn’t even found it in himself to explain to him why payback with your baby isn’t a thing — one thing, though, is that he doesn’t regret picking Yann as Elina’s godfather.

Keeping a hand on her belly, he uses the other to lower the slatted rail down, making sure that the crib-bumpers don’t get in the way. Like most of their daughter’s bedroom, it fits the theme Eliott has picked for it — navy tones, with sparkles of silver and gold when stars are involved, and touches of orange when some foxes are, for some reason, thrown into the mix. He’s never really understood why foxes would fit a sky/space theme but apparently he’s the only one. Eliott is the kind of dad to think about that, about color-coordinated baby stuff and themed nursery, about cloud-shaped nightlights, about decorating himself the plain white crib they bought because there wasn’t a single one he liked on the market — he just wishes Eliott would be the kind of dad who would also stand his ground a little bit more when it comes to work.

He sighs to himself, and Elina peers at him with sleepy eyes, blinking hard to adjust. Why is he even petty? It’s just a stupid appointment, he thinks as he picks her up. Technically, she no longer needs the hand that automatically flies at the back of her head to keep her neck from wobbling dangerously, but Lucas can’t help it, he’s gotten accustomed to it. He presses a kiss to her temple, now fully covered with chestnut hair. When they first met her, five months ago, she only had a mop of hair on the top of her small head, but soon he’ll be able to do something with it. Maybe put a small hair clip or something to get it out of her face — there were tiny ones at Tape A l’Oeil’s the other day and he had almost melted at the sight. Elina yawns some more as she rests her head on his shoulder, and he motions towards the changing table after checking the time on his phone.

He’s got ten more minutes to pack everything and be ready.

It’s good.

He’s got this.

THURSDAY, 18:01

He’s not bitter.

Nope. Not at all.

He’s not mad either. It’s stupid to be mad at your husband. They’re not that kind of couple anyway. They aren’t the kind to be mad at each other. They’ve reached the unattainable level of wholesome that their friends dream about. High school sweethearts turned husbands, two successful jobs (Eliott as a concept artist in a Parisian studio, him as a researcher in the Pasteur Institute), a baby, a flat reasonably big for the three of them and not too expensive (thus preserving them from having to worry every month), and above all, eight years of marriage and not a scratch, not a crack, not a fight — that’s just how perfect it all is. They’re Eliott and Lucas (and Elina).

They’re the Lallemant-Demaury.

So who cares if Eliott is a little late?

It doesn’t matter, he thinks as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting impatiently for the street-light to go green.

Even if he has to get through this alone, it’s not a problem.

It’s not like they’ve had this appointment for two months now, which is also the last time Lucas has found himself in the 15e, in this exact parking-lot. He throws a quick glance at Elina in the rear-view mirror. She’s busy chewing on her pacifier in her car-seat, eyes closed, but he can tell she’s not asleep. Whenever she does, she does those sucking sounds that sometimes get so loud they can hear it all the way from their bedroom — so much it literally cockblocked them for a while.

He tries to focus on the important thing at hand. His daughter is fine. She’s never been better, even. This appointment is just a check-up. No harm ever comes from a check-up, right? And what if she still has the scar of her open-heart surgery on her tiny body? She isn’t in pain and she won’t even remember it — it will fade away eventually, or so they said. What if he can’t help but check on her breathing every now and then, just because he’s afraid it might quicken all over again? He’s home all fucking day long, it’s not like he’s got anything better to do. That’s what caring for your child means, right?

And he cares about Linou.

So. Yeah.

He’s not mad.

The street-signal goes green and he can finally turn right to engage himself in the closest parking-lot from the Necker Hospital. What kind of hospital doesn’t have a parking lot? Parisian hospitals. For fuck’s sake it really is his luck. He’s almost been running late because he had to check and double-check google maps to make sure he remembers where to park — because two months is a long time, and he’s had very little sleep in the end, so he did forget and usually Eliott is good at remembering stuff like these.

Because usually we’re together, he thinks begrudgingly, making his way inside the underground parking-lot and absently cruising through the rows of car, on the look-out for an available spot. It’s 18h04, he really needs to find one, preferably before he has a nervous breakdown. His eyes stumble on the brake-lights of a pitch-black 5008 slowly leaving its parking spot, and he pulls to a stop, slightly wincing when it’s a little harsher than expected — but Elina is still calm and quiet at the back, so it’s fine. Mostly. Nobody needs to know anyway.

(It’s been his motto for a while.)

(Ever since he became a dad actually.)

(But… yeah. Nobody needs to know.)

He waits for the 5008 to eventually move its ass away to be able to start parking, fingers tapping over the steering-wheel all over again as he grumpily hums the tune on the radio. By the time he’s managed to squeeze his C3 between an ugly brown Nissan Juke and a red pocket sized-car he doesn’t even know the brand of, it’s nearly time for him to start running to get there on time. It’s always when he has to maneuver to get into a parking spot that he misses the DS3 he had to leave behind, a couple of months ago, for a car that doesn’t require him to follow a special training from the Cirque du Soleil to get his daughter in and out — four doors really do save lives.

Elina starts gurgling happily, kicking her limbs impatiently, when he opens the back door to free her from her backseat. There’s the stroller in the trunk, but it’s too late for him to bother taking it out, to Lucas’ dismiss.

(He’s the stroller dad.)

(Eliott is the baby-carrier dad.)

(Which is infinitely easier when you have long-ass legs, he guesses, and that no one risks elbowing the baby in the head.)

He simply grabs the diaper bag and throws it on his shoulder, carrying his daughter on his hip after carefully making sure that neither the pacifier or the plushy baby seal she’s been in love with lately are missing, and that both her shoes are still on, before he slams the door shut and locks the car behind him.

See? It’s all good. He doesn’t even need a husband, he thinks darkly, but ultimately he feels bad and holds Elina a little tighter against himself.

Anxiety makes him an ass: confirmed.

THURSDAY, 18:32

He really doesn’t know why he even bothered to be nervous about being late. All fucking doctors in the world are late. He should have known better. He’s been sitting here for half an hour now and frankly he’s starting to wonder how he’s going to keep Elina busy if only for the next five minutes. She’s starting to get fussy into his lap, which means that she’s either grumpy because he woke her up earlier or because she needs to be changed — either way, there’s nothing he can do about it now. That would be his luck if as soon as he stands up and goes to the bathroom, someone calls them in.

So he’s sitting there, trying to keep his 9-month-old baby busy with a fucking baby-seal plushy, mentally praying that she’s simply annoyed and tired (like her dad, actually), when there’s a rustle of clothes somewhere on the side. His head snaps up to find Eliott sighing in relief, like he wasn’t sure he’d find them here — it doesn’t help him feel less prickly about the whole situation.

(And who cares if Eliott is always so beautiful?)

(He’s good at multitasking.)

(He can be mad and enjoy the sight of his husband.)

“Hey, you’re here,” Eliott says, sounding a little breathy, like he’s been running through the maze of hallways that is this stupid hospital.

“Of course, I’m here,” he snorts, focusing back onto Elina while Eliott puts the diaper bags on the floor before sliding in a plastic chair next to his own. “I’m not really the element of surprise in this.”

“Lucas…” He can hear his smile faltering in his voice, and he twists his mouth a little, feeling ashamed of himself.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he says, looking back to Eliott. He cranes his head up for his husband to give him a quick kiss, and Eliott immediately obliges. “How did it go?”

“It was fine I guess,” Eliott admits, shuffling a little closer. Elina has immediately perked up onto his presence and Eliott presses a kiss to the tiny hand which wrapped itself around his thumb. “They seemed to like the few stuff we had to offer and I think I might be able to sell them the color palette, so it’s already a win.” Elina has a little catlike laugh and it draws a blinding smile onto Eliott’s face. He leans forward and picks her from Lucas’ lap. “Hello, sweetie,” he singsongs, pecking her little nose before sitting her on his lap.

Lucas observes them in silence. “I’m happy for you,” he says eventually, forcing a tight smile in Eliott’s direction.

Eliott looks up and shoots him his shinning grin, the one that makes him all soft and crinkly-eyed. “How did your day go?”

And… his annoyance is back. “Thrilling,” he replies darkly. “We finished the incredible Animal Carnival story, and I did laundry. A day filled with accomplishments and excitements, you can bet.”

Eliott is combing Elina’s hair with his fingers, turning a slightly embarrassed face towards him. “You know you don’t have to do that, I’m on laundry duty this week.”

“And what do I do when she spits up on me?” he scoffs. “Pile everything up in the middle of our bedroom and just wait for everything to smell like someone has puked in there?”

He knows he’s being stupid but he just can’t help it — he can’t control it. It’s like some fucking dumbass has possessed his body, like his stupid brain-to-mouth filter has stopped working. Eliott doesn’t have much difficulty spotting a snide comment when he hears one, and he cocks his head to the side while Elina is busy toying with the lapels of her dad’s jacket. “Lucas, what’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he grumbles, looking away. “It’s just that you can’t just postpone laundry for ten hours when it smells-”

“I’m not talking about laundry,” Eliott cuts him off gently, and he puts a hand on his thigh to get his attention back to him until they make eye-contact. “You know you can tell me everything, right?”

Eliott’s eyes are simultaneously the best and the worst things that happened to Lucas’ life. He’s always been a smooth-talker and a smooth-liar, always finding the right thing to say to get out of messy situations, but it all flew out of the window the day he met Eliott, in the common room. At best, ever since then, he’s been able to offer cheeky comments and occasional acts of bravery — like having sex in the aforementioned common-room, for instance.

But lying to Eliott?

Trying to deceive Eliott?

It’s always been off the table.

“I miss my job,” he blurts out. “And I’m- I’m sorry for snapping at you, I know it was the deal, and it’s got nothing to do with Elina.” He reaches out and caresses her cheek softly. “She’s the most precious thing in the world to me, I’d never regret having her in my life. It’s just-”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that with me. Okay?” Eliott interrupts again. He adjusts his position on the plastic chair, sitting Elina with her back against his chest. “I know you love her, and I know it’s not the problem. We’re talking about you right now.”

He presses his lips together tightly, until they’re only a thin line. “I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he sighs, shoulders slumping a little. “For five months, everything has been about baby food and quarters of nights, and afternoons sliced in six because of the naps and all the times she wakes-up in-between. I just want to talk to adults, you know? Real adults.” He has a nervous snort. “There’s this mom who’s constantly baby-talking at the park and it drives me fucking insane. I swear it keeps me up at night.” When he looks back up, he sees that Eliott’s face starts crumpling from contained laughter. “Don’t laugh at me!,” he whisper-screams, offended.

His husband hides his chuckle behind a small coughing fit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, becoming serious all over again — which Lucas appreciates. “Why did you never say anything before?”

“Because that was the deal,” he insists.

That’s what they had decided, the very day they had decided to become Linou’s parents. She had been abandoned by her mother as soon as she had been born because of a stupid heart-condition, and when they were contacted by the ASE to (maybe) become her parents, they had instantly agreed that, in the event of them actually becoming her dads, one of them would stay home for a six-month parental leave to help her settle in and watch over her. That was the deal, and Lucas had agreed wholeheartedly. He couldn’t just backtrack two months in, particularly because they had monthly visits from the social worker. How could he ever manage to convince anyone that he really wants to be a dad if he says that spending time with his baby gets on his nerves?

He’s not sure he could survive it, if anyone tried to take Elina away from them now.

“I know you love your job and I didn’t want you to feel bad about going to work every day,” he admits, and eventually he sighs, shaking his head. “It’s just that I’m really not cut for being a stay-at-home parent and it’s starting to drive me nuts.”

Now he officially feels like the worst dad ever.

On top of feeling like a fraud 90% of the time.

Eliott slides an arm behind his shoulders and pulls him closer until he can press a kiss to his temple. “First of all,” he whispers, “don’t keep things bottled up. Alright? You know it doesn’t sit well with you.” Lucas lets out a small snort. “Second of all, I have to confess one thing,” Eliott says, and he pauses when Lucas looks back at him, wincing a little bit. “I was glad when the coin chose you.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Really?”

Eliott pulls Elina back closer against him. “Yeah. At first I was kind of envious, because she kept freaking out whenever I came in the room, and she wouldn’t want to snuggle with me and you were spending so much time with her,” he says, and Lucas has to protest.

“She didn’t freak out.”

“That’s your opinion on it,” Eliott scoffs, but he doesn’t seem mad about it.

For at least three weeks, if not a month, Elina would stop laughing whenever Eliott would enter her visual field. She wouldn’t eat whenever he would try to giver her the bottle and she kept staring at him all the time. It took a while for them to figure out — or at least for Lucas to figure out, because Eliott was still not buying it —, but he eventually realized that Elina’s only problem with her dad was his eyes. Apparently, his baby daughter was mesmerized by Eliott’s gaze, and frankly he couldn’t blame her. Been there, done that, he would quietly tell her whenever she’d stare at Eliott a little too long, and inevitably Eliott would huff and leave the room until Lucas stopped laughing.

“I just started counting all the stuff I wouldn’t get to see, you know, all the first times you’d witness,” Eliott says again, waving the baby seal for a grinning Elina to reach out for it. “But then we started working on the project and it was so amazing and exciting all over again, and I was glad I got that opportunity.” He leans a little bit closer and Lucas reciprocates. “I was selfish, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not selfish, we both agreed to that,” Lucas protests, annoyance long faded. He starts rubbing Elina’s foot and she greets him with a huge smile, babbling things and nearly causing the pacifier to tumble off.

Next to them, the door opens and a couple with a kid who’s probably at least 8 exits the office, small-talking on their way out with the cardiologist. They’re busy shaking hands when Eliott tugs at his sleeve, drawing his attention back on him. “We’re gonna have to put a pin on that,” he says, “but don’t think you’re off the hook. There’s a long talk about feelings and personal thoughts ahead of you tonight.”

He winces, but it’s more to make Eliott cringe than anything else. His husband huffs and gives him a playful slap on the arm as he stands up, still holding Elina against his chest. Lucas leans down to picks up the diaper bag.

Feelings.

Yeah. He can probably do that — as long as it’s with Eliott, that is.

#skam france #elu fic #eliott demaury #mine #lucas lallemant #*#it's only slightly angsty i promise #like barely #it's mostly fluff #i swear #my fics

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vrenaewrites · 4 years

Text

CARAVAL thoughts:

FULL VIDEO HERE.

Confession: I DNFed caraval about 2 years ago. I even included this book in a video called “reading 5 star reviews of books I hate” (either screen record and insert the clip from that vid or link in the cards skip to like 6:40 or both)

Chapter 1

We open with letters that our main character Scarlett has written to the caraval master Legend

She really wants him to come to her island but he hasn’t

She finally gets one back with three tickets for her Tella and her fiancé

Chapter 2

Scarlett’s feelings came in colors “urgent red of burning coals, frenzied yellow of a flapping bird’s feathers”

She goes to tell her sister Tella and finds her making out with a dude lol

Julian is his name

The edges of the paper “blazed a shimmery gold, the color of magic and wishes and promises of the things to come”

Tella hates the count Scarlett is betrothed to but Scarlett wants to leave their home so bad she doesn’t care who she ends up with

“Gods teeth!” Is the expletive…

The prize of caraval is one wish

They have to leave the isle within 3 days which would be impossible before getting married

Tella’s lips “shifted from broken to unbreakable” NO

Last time they left Scarlett’s dad did something terrible to her

Julian offers to smuggle them to the island for caraval on his sailor ship (pirate ship??)

“Goldenrod desire lit up inside her”

Wishes were about as real as unicorns

Their dad shows up with gloves “the shade of bruises”

Tella accuses Scarlett of hooking up with Julian RUDE!!!!

And Julian agrees!

Ohh because the dad beats the other sister so they’re trying to protect each other by accusing each other

Her marriage is 10 days away

Chapter 3

Her fathers perfume smelled like the color of his gloves

Julian decides to take them off the isle for free after witnessing this

Tella says if she leaves she will never return

“Her world was a grand game board, and her father believed this marriage would be his penultimate move”

“More than your sisters face will bleed” is their dad assaulting them?? Did I just gloss over that when reading this the first time??

“Weather worn white archways” loved

Governor dragna sounds like judge frollo

Their mom disappeared 7 years ago - abandoned them

They have priests and piety and the devil but they don’t use the BC AD calendar instead going by seasons and rulers...why

Chapter 4

She felt the lie from childhood “sneaking into her slippers and moving between her toes” no you didn’t

“A broken dock like a massive tongue jutted out to stones that reminded Scarlett if uneven teeth”

It was nights like these she could smell the moon - I wrote taste at first and taste fits better imo

A friend tried to help them escape once and the governor drowned him for it, Tella didn’t know about this

She meets Julian here at midnight and barters all 3 tickets to keep him from helping Tella escape

Julian and Tella ambush her and knock her out

Chapter 5

“A pock marked moon winked in the glass”

She has a dream about their nana telling them how legend got his name

First of all, legend is a bad dumb name and you should feel bad about it, Stephanie Garber. Caraval is also a bad name.

He was in love with a woman named Annalise and would perform at a coronation to earn her fathers respect, but he needed a witch to grant him a wish of talent

He had to choose between fame and love

So his name is legend because his magic is legendary? How tf did John legend not sue over this?

“Behind her a cloud drifted over the moon, covering all but two tiny points of light, which hovered behind her silver hair like devil’s horns” love this visual

I’m calling it now, we’re getting this flashback because somehow, the dragna sisters are related to Annalise or remind legend of Annalise and this is why Tella gets taken

Chapter 6

She wakes up in a rowboat with Julian after 2 days which is always a good way to pass the 2 days journey it takes without having to make anything happen lol I respect it

Julian calls her crimson instead of Scarlett - hated it then hate it now

Trees “rose toward the sky like massive emeralds” and the waterfall “streamed down like melted peacock feathers” no it didn’t because that makes no sense

Legends private island is called the island of dreams in Spanish

Tella has set up a kidnapping so Scarlett can go back without getting In trouble

“The image of a purple fire breathing dragon came to mind, coating her vision with ashy shades of anxiety”

I remember stopping very shortly after this and now I remember why - I can do purple prose but DAMN

Their mom had “vanished taking nothing with her, she disappeared like a broken star leaving the world untouched, save for the missing bits of light but no one would ever see again” Good purple prose

We get some backstory on how her Nana was more involved after her mother left, and we get to hear again about how great her stories are, even though we just spent a chapter getting that first hand from a flashback

She barters with herself to stay only one day and then go home for her wedding

There’s a hole in the boat so they swim but she didn’t take her dresses off so she starts to drown

“You deserve this” because of Phillippe, like hands the water pressed her down down down

Julian saved her and cuts off her dress which she finds very intense

Chapter 7

So much description of the snowy frosting sand pick one

I get that it’s a magical island but every descriptor up until the sand made it sound like a tropical paradise, and then suddenly the sand is snow and there’s ice and snow on the trees which were just giant emeralds so I’m confused

Because being wet and cold is more scary

“ The snow on the rooftops rested like dust on abandoned storybooks“

A very diagon alley sitch where there are magical stores but none are open...because it’s caraval guys. They’re at the games

They go into a clock shop where there are clothes waiting along with food roses and a note from legend

They change and she sees awful scars on his hot muscly back

Her dress is lame despite every YA trope about the heroine having a princess moment, that’s fun: just kidding it changed colors and shape to fit her perfect

And Julian’s outfit is super hot

He stole a pocket watch

Scarlett was a pretty girl but she tried to hide it, her eyes were too honest, no one noticed girls in ugly clothes

“Scarlet wondered if she had found a way to escape her fathers deadly games only to become a well costumed piece on a new game board” no shit Scarlett you came to the island for the game…

Also you were in such a hurry to find Tella and get into the game before it was too late and now you’re waxing poetic about how hot Julian is and how you’re hot but you don’t wanna be

Chapter 8

“Sage shaded colors of suspicion” I really hate this device she’s using. I’ve used it to describe the colors my mind reading characters see in people's minds. But it’s like twice a book, maybe, to express extreme emotion. Not every time your feelings change.

Some guy comes in and offers them a portal into caraval and Scarlett is like “sure thing” and Julian is like “ummm dumdum” and he leaves

The guys like “oh you just gonna listen to that random guy?” And I’m like as opposed to you, another random guy?

He wants her voice okay Ursula

“A passionate sky made of melting lemons and burning peaches” or say yellows and oranges…

“Until the door was no more” love this, sounds very fairy tale

She leaves and it's like night already, she only has til midnight

Scarlett and Julian get in by him pretending to be the count, her fiancé

They take the path of the players, not the watchers

Chapter 9

“A panicked Vermillion moved inside of her chest as she thought of how specific legends letter had been”

Julian admits he’s played caraval before and Scarlett is like *gasp* but HELLO how did you think he knew all the shit he knew?

He keeps calling her crimson like every time he speaks to her, annoying

“Julian’s smile turned seductive, all shameless curves and immoral promises”

Chapter 10

“Soft golden lights licked her arms with gentle kisses of warmth”

I’m very bored when this house is supposed to be EVERYTHING

The guy who was giving them the rules says, “don’t let your eyes or feelings trick you” And then jumps off the balcony and Scarlet freaks out… He just told you not to trust what you see

Scarlett is the most annoying person

Their instructions are to get to the end by sunrise or they’ll be locked out in the streets, but she’s wasting time wanting to look for her sister - and Julian is telling her that her sister is probably staying at the same place and she doesn’t believe him despite the fact that he’s already done this game before, just trust him???

“A searing green door watched Scarlet like a glowing eye”

This just made me figure out why I don’t like that she’s using colors as an emotional device, because the main character is named after a color, and so it’s just way too many color descriptors

Julian got trapped outside noooo

Chapter 11

But it’s fine because she tells the innkeeper they’re guests of legend - which they are - and he’s let in. Great. Glad there are no stakes. They also used legends name to get the boat to the inn for free.

The hallways in the inn “smelled like the end of the night, sweat and fading fire smoke mixed with lingering breath from words whose ghosts still haunted the air” no

Julian was “poison in an attractive bottle”

Their rooms are actually one room oops

Chapter 12

“But legend saw all during caraval”

She got a message from legend: it’s a key with tella’s name on it

Lmao tella is having sex behind that door for sure

“She felt five different shades of berry colored foolish” this is so stupid

Every time something happens between tella and scar, we get a whole expository moment about how this is related to their mother or their father or the relationship between the sisters… We know. we can tell. we are not stupid.

“Warmth licking her cheek” this metaphor is too specific to keep using it

Some tattooed dude finds her - Dante - and is like “sleep in my room”

He asks her out but she declines because the count

Damn her dress has transformed to be like see through which is why he was into her lmao

She has a dream that legend is a creep lol

Chapter 13

Scarlett totally changes her tune re: enjoying herself

She passes tella’s room and finds a wreck

“Feathers covered the carnage as if a rebel Angel had gone mad” this is so dumb

The key she got with tella’s name was a clue, that other people also got

A pregnant girl offers to help scarlet, and a man steals scarlets favorite earrings from her mother

Then the pregnant girl steals that stuff

She realizes there’s a postcard in tella’s room that isn’t hers

Chapter 14

Tella only loved mermaids, and the postcard is of a castle, which was Scarlett’s thing

The castle is a place on the isle that Julian recognizes

Dante shows up and Julian is like hell nah

Dante won last time Julian was here and it cost him a lot

“Shops wrapped in colors like a birthday presents, cerulean blue apricot orange saffron yellow primrose pink while the canals remained midnight dark” SHUT UP dude

This woman got like a color wheel or a color dictionary for her birthday the year she wrote this book

Time moves fast in the castle

What’s really annoying about this book is Stephanie Garber spends a lot of time talking about things that are boring, and one sentence on something like hummingbird-sized elephants and tigers

There’s a kissing tent and she’s like fuck yeah let’s go there

You’re engaged

Julian sees where she’s looking and is like yeah??

A tingle of periwinkle curiosity

Chapter 15

She goes into the tent of a half naked dude who could tell her fortune

This is all very boring

He has incense that makes people tell the truth and she admits Julian is the hottest guy ever

She asks what’s the man she will marry really like?

He’s not a good person

She’s covered in only pictures he can see instead of pictures only he can see…

She had 2 questions but the way she asked used them up so she doesn’t get to ask about tella

Chapter 16

He tells her to follow the boy with the heart made of black...obviously Dante, she thinks Julian

She walks into a potion tent and finds an elixir of protectio

She mentions her father and feels “anise and lavender and rotting plums”

She describe the woman who works in the potion tent as having “bottle green” eyes, but this entire paragraph has the word bottle in it like 1 million times because shes describing a tent full of potions...all these colorful words you’ve used and this is where you use “bottle green”

I don’t mind the descriptor, my own eyes are bottle green, it’s very vivid, but badly placed

She chases Julian to a decrepit garden with a fountain, and sees a glass button

She also saw a glass button in tella’s room...is this how legend spies on her? Is this where tella is being kept?

“Dreary yellow hopelessness” infected her

She sees the symbol of caraval inside the fountain and touches it, revealing a staircase

Someone screamed as hot and bright as fire

It’s madness tunnels

The inn “smells of laughter and boasts laced with sweetened ale” this doesn’t make seeeeeennnnnnnnse

She finds Julian, but it’s actually Dante and he’s mean to her and she cries but it makes her mad at Julian?????? Stupid

Chapter 17

Julian finally shows up, super bloody but he just had a head wound

She cleans him up and is getting super horny lol

He got her earrings back!!!!!

The fire dies sending up a plume of smoke “the color of things better said in whispers”

She tells him about the tunnels and he says legend treats his prisoners like guests

Julian’s eyes are the color of “caramel and liquid amber lust”

He almost kisses her and then seems to wake up, leaves and “disappointment wraps around her in cool shades of forget me not blue” STOP

Chapter 18

She wakes up to white roses with red tips

Julian is supposed to meet her but doesn’t

A girl shows up “pretty as a watercolor and dressed as bold as a trumpet” DUDE

“Oh poor you, here you are on a magical island, and all you can think of is what you don’t have” get her!

Dante shows up and she realizes he has a black heart tattoo which DUH SCARLETT

chapter 19

The night is “brittle, crisp like the first bite of a chilled apple, smelling just as sweet with hints of burnt sugar weaving through the charcoal night air” THIS IS GOOD PURPLE PROSE! I can taste this!!!!!!!

She’s chasing Dante and finds a cider seller who’s drink will help her see things more clearly, the price is her last lie

She drinks it and loses the color in her vision

The game is constantly working against you?????? How?! You’ve stumbled across tons of clues without any work and there are no believable stakes to this game, this drink is the first time you’ve had a struggle…

Iko holds a journal that’s brownish green, “the color of forgotten memories, abandoned dreams, and bitter gossip”

Even in black and white we get this heavy handed color shit

She realizes anything in color is important

She also sees the red roses on a carousel and the red cravat on a mans neck

He makes her feel perilous shades of silky black - is Stephanie Garner an artist? Does she have synesthesia or something?? What is with this device!!!!

She looks in Iko’s book and sees pictures of her, the special guest

Sour shades of yellow green made her stomach roil with trepidation - HUH????

She’s like “why would he make the game about me?” You’ve been begging him to bring you caraval your entire life, why do you think?

I think I remember the nana saying annelise had blonde hair, and so does tella...are they related to her? Is she nana?

Iko tells her the notebook also holds all the true stories of caraval

Iko will give her the notebook if Scarlett will buy 2 dresses because the changing dress bothers her (??)

Iko takes her to a dress shop where the dresses are “the color of late night laughter, early morning sunshine, and waves crashing around ankles”

The dresses cost nightmares or secrets or fears

She owes her worst fear and greatest desire, or she can pay 2 days of her life per dress

It works but her greatest desire isn’t to find her sister, so she pays with 2 days of her life, not at the end of her life but at the end of caraval

“Panic came in hemlock green, the color of poison and terror”

“Something acidic and moldy and burnt bubbled up in Scarlett’s throat - the taste of death” like this

Scarlett’s body dies but her mind will exist in a dream world

Chapter 20

Dante finds her and drags her into the inn

Julian hits Dante because he won’t let her go hell yeah

She tells him what happened

Julian tried to give Scarlett a day of his life by having her drink his blood from his finger and she’s like “I wanna fuck this duuuude”

“His voice is so gentle, made of gentle” I liked this

Then he drinks her blood from her finger, and the world shatters into a million shards of colored glass

He lays down with her and holds her while she dies

Chapter 21

Death was the color purple.

She sees tella in the dream world, and tella has a huge dark book that swallows her and Scarlett

They see young nana in a house similar to the one they entered at caraval, entwined with a young man

Her grandma is Anneliese DUH

Then she’s at the funeral of the woman who died at caraval before

Rosa was in love with legend and he rejected her so she killed herself

Dante was rosa’s fiancée

Legend is julian?!?!?

Loved This entire chapter but then it means nothing because none of this is real it’s all part of the game so it’s not really story development

Chapter 22

They both wake up

Scarlett tries to convince herself the game is messing with her

Then she remembers what the dream people said about legend loving to make girls fall for him

She has a grey streak in her hair now

Her dad is there!

She finally puts it together - her nana is anneliese

“She could see the sting of her rejection in shades of stormy blue ghosting over his heart like sad morning mist” roll my eyes

But then she remembers that he gave a day of his life for her and is like why would he do that if he was legend

Now she’s changed her mind, so she goes after Julian to find him leaving Dante’s room and walking into tella’s

She goes in after him to hide from her dad but the room is empty

She finds another secret staircase like the fountain

She trips over Dante’s dead body and finds Julian standing over it

Chapter 23

Julian grabs her and is like “I didn't kill him, we were working together”

He shows her a white rose tattoo he has, Rosa was his sister!!

She asks why he had been acting weird and he basically says he didn’t want to have feelings for her because that wasn’t why he had come to caraval

Scarlett is like let’s get this fucker back, but she hears her dad’s footsteps in the tunnel

Chapter 24

They start running, and they hide in a weird alcove from her dad that starts to squish them

She realizes it’s feeding off their fear so they relax and it lets them out

They end up in the sand tunnel and Scarlett is like how could you know I was going to caraval if you were already at our island when I got my tickets

Julian explains that legend is punishing the descendants of anneliese and he invited her to caraval to stop the wedding

Legend had never responded until she signed her full name on the last letter, mentioning her wedding

Julian is the fucking count dude calling it

“His steady gaze reached out to the broken parts of her like a caress, a type of touch that moved through damaged flesh, past fractured bones and into a person's wounded soul.” WOW

Scarlett hears tella’s voice and almost runs straight off a cliff

“Tella loved danger the same way candle wicks loved to burn. It never seemed to scare her that some of the things she lusted for might consume her like a flame” Christ

Julian knew tella would be taken during caraval

Chapter 25

She had to find tella before legend consumed her like a flame burning a candle” you just used a candle metaphor like one page ago my dude.

She gives herself one minute to cry and scream and Julian hears her so he barges in, worried

He apologizes and she gives him the grace I’ve been waiting for as soon as he said he knew what would happen to tella: he had to avenge his sister. Everything they’re both doing is for their sisters, she should be more understanding

Julian is “all kinds of tragic and lovely”

The box was “flat black, the color of failure and funerals” shut UP

Like if you wanna use the color device to describe your protagonists feelings stop being so fucking flowery with every single color in the book it is soooooooooooooooo distracting

It’s the other dress Scarlett has bought but now it’s white

Chapter 26

There’s a note in the box from legend that makes “invisible spiders crawl over her skin” ok

She thinks the dress is the 5th clue - the buttons on the dress reminds her of the buttons leading to the hat store

Chapter 27

They go to the top hat place and Julian is like “this is all wrong”

Iko appears looking like “a teardrop the moon had cried” love it

She tells them not to go into the hat shop

Let me guess, despite both of these omens Scarlett is still gonna go in

“Scarlett had an emerald green premonition that she would make a discovery inside” sure why tf not gotta keep the story moving somehow

She sees the store owner and was like LEGEND and he’s like nah dude I’m just wearing a hat

But he is the guy that was wearing the red cravat and eyepatch from the day her vision went gray

He is the count!!!!!

Chapter 28

Nicholas Darcy

And her dad is there!!!!!!!!!!

Julian gets her out but the count chases her and they get on a boat

She sees her dad and he looks afraid but she blames it on the rain

They row to the castle and Julian convinces her to get inside to hide from the lightning

And they argue about if she’s still planning marrying the count and she’s torn which hurts him

He says “are you sure you want this?” Before kissing her and like is it a consent thing or is it him asking if he’s what she wants either way I love it

“The boy who had saved her from drowning in more ways than one” explain…

They kiss and “every touch created colors she had never seen” that’s so anticlimactic

Chapter 29

The stones fall through the hourglass like “drops of falling rose petals” that makes no sense but we have to include it because...

She finally realizes the roses that have been EVERYWHERE are part of the game duh

She takes Julian to the fountain where the tunnel entrance is

She feels ochre shades of uneasy

Only NOW she’s giving pause at the idea of winning because she could wish them safe...shoulda been your goal all along. Should have been equally as important as finding tella since if you find her you win the wish….I’m signing heavily atm

The governor and the count are there!!!!!

Swear to god if Julian dies I’m going to fucking riot

She wants to split up but Julian is like fuck no

The count catches up to her and the governor pulls her by her hair up the stairs

He punches her in the stomach to warn Julian and she gets back up, with the count trying to protect Scarlett

“A slick mud colored feeling coated Scarlett’s insides” because the governor is holding a knife to Julian’s throat

He cuts Julian’s face NOOOOOO

The governor takes Julian to his room and let’s the count sleep in Scarlett’s room because “he’s already paid for her, he can enjoy her a few days early”

Scarlett stands up to her dad!!!! And then she remembers tella’s words: what if the count is worse?

Scarlett tells the count if she makes her dad stop, she’ll be a good wife but if he doesn’t she will never be his obedient wife

“Do you really want a bride who will only sleep with you because someone will be tortured if she doesn’t?” YES

Chapter 30

The count is like “listen I am NOT like your dad I’m sorry” and she’s like yeah but you’re not Julian

The count starts undressing and Scarlett aims a poker at his eyeball lmao

She finally remembers the elixir of protection in that dress from the tent and soaks the count

The count is like “you’re playing into legends hands” and Scarlett is like “nah he did me a favor by getting rid of you”

Chapter 31

Julian’s cut isn’t that deep thank god but he’s still woozy

“He tasted like midnight and wind”

Leap of faith - roses - it’s Rosa!!!!! She has to ask how Rosa died and Julian says she jumped off a balcony

They decide to sneak out using the tunnels to go search all the balconies

Chapter 32

The town during the day looks like a “faded memory”

She hears music from the rose colored carousel

The musician has been asking for coins the whole time but nothing else cost money

They jump onto the moving carousel and end up in the roses where Scarlett finds the caraval symbol

They have to jump, Julian gives her coordinates to a boat in case they get separated but they run out of time and she has to go in

She lands in a river and lands at a staircase guarded with statues that are definitely frozen people

Legend is there ofc

Chapter 33

She’s a little star struck by legend

His laugh is a rich spicy sound that echoes until he snaps his fingers

Homeboy is mad

Julian ends up there, dry, and...he’s working with legend...NOOOOOOO

Dante and Valentina were also part of the game

Rosa was not his sister...DUDE

She clutches his pocket watch and legend opens it - Julian’s voice comes out apologizing for betraying her

He does love her HE IS ENCHANTED!!!!!

LEGEND STABS JULIAN?!?!?!?!?!?

Oh fuck he is spitting blood oh fuck oh no

Scarlett you got him killed you dumdum

Chapter 34

I’m FUCKING FURIOUS

she remembers that she gets one wish, and she wants to use it to bring Julian back and I swear to goooooddddddd if he doesn’t come back I’m gonna throw myself out the window

Legend is gone, leaving a funeral invitation for tella set for tomorrow this guy is a MONSTER

Chapter 35

She ends up on a huge rooftop way high up

“The air felt soft and poisonous”

Tella is there feeling like “softness and sunlight and seeds for growing dreams”

We just used soft a sentence ago!!!!

Tella is like “you’re confused, the game is playing tricks on you”

Scarlett tells her about their grandmas history with legend

She shows tella the invitation and it now says it’s to a party not a funeral

Chapter 36

Tella has met a boy that’s not legend...it’s a guy she met right before she got taken for the game…

She’s engaged to him??

Scarlett is like maybe tella is right and this is all part of it...Scarlett DUDE

Scarlett has a bitter yellow puddle of dread in her stomach

If Daniel is Dante or Julian I’m gonna scream

Chapter 37

It’s legend of course

Duh

He tries to convince tella to tie Scarlett up you better NOT

TELLA

YOU DUMB BITCH

legend dares Scarlett to walk to the edge of the balcony to prove she loves her sister, so that he can feign worry to tella

They tie her up

The governor and the count show up FUCK

finally legend admits to tella who he is and she just breaks poor baby

Tella backs up to the ledge and says if the governor or the count touch Scarlett she’ll kill herself!!!!!!!

“Silver slippers sliding” toward the balcony

Scarlett breaks free but tella FUCKING JUMPS

Chapter 38

So now who is Scarlett gonna use her wish on?!

Her father looks like “a dragon with no fire and broken wings”

The governor slaps Jovan and legend is like imma fuck you UP

The governor killed Dante!!!!!!

She blackmails her dad with Philippe’s death

She remembers her wish...but who does she use it on?!

Which oof, oof, OOF

Tella is a brat lmao

Legend won’t give her the wish!!!!!

He’s...fading??

Scarlett goes to give tella her blood

She wishes her impossible wish but it doesn’t work

Chapter 39

She goes back up to get tella’s stuff and finds a caraval box with a letter inside from tella to legend that she didn’t know about

Chapter 40

She goes to see legend and finds out he’s actually some dude named Caspar…that was why he couldn’t grant her wish

There’s a stack of letter between tella and legend that basically illustrate that tella was willing to die for legend to get them to caraval

Tella is alive?!?!?!?!?!?

This was all a fucking game?!

Her impossible wish came true, but she had actually died

Tella orchestrated their dad getting to caraval so he could see her die, and so he would leave Scarlett alone

Chapter 41

So Julian is not really dead, but tella wanted anyone who made Scarlett love them to be taken out, that way she wouldn’t get hurt by someone who was just pretending

So she somehow warps this into meaning that Julian didn’t actually love her? Go...ask him??????? The fuck

God poor Scarlett…

So people can die in caraval, but when the game is over, they come back...so there were no fuckin stakes except for tella’s death

Chapter 42

They go to legends party in the forest and Scarlett sees Julian

Iko is there like go talk to Julian dumdum

“Shades of the rich ruby love she’d felt mixed with deep indigo hurt turning everything just a little bit violet” I don’t care I want them to kiss Stephanie

Julian is so hurt that she thinks she doesn’t know him

He’s related to legend…

Rosa dying changed his opinion of legend

He tried to leave the game right before this caraval

Legend is his brother!!!!!!!!!

He couldn’t leave Scarlett because she loved her sister like Julian loved his brother

He stayed because of Scarlett despite how it hurt him to lie to her

Yaaaaaay they kiss yay omg

Epilogue

Tella is dancing drunk at the party and is dancing with a new guy who dances her to the edge of the party...then he’s gone?

He dropped something into her pocket...a coin with a note…

From legend!!!!!

You can see your mom soon if you keep up your end of the bargain!!!!!

#book review #bookreviews #booktube #cringe books #cringe review #stephanie garber #caraval #legendary #finale #negative review #spoilers

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imagine-loki · 5 years

Text

Till We Meet Again

TITLE: Till We Meet Again

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 18/?

AUTHOR: marvelgirlonamarvelworld (side blog)

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being mesmerized by a girl whose eyes remind him of the Bifrost

Imagine that Loki would visit you when you were a child, persuading you into mischief and cheering you up with his magic tricks, you assumed he was imaginary.

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: angst, whump, language, not much really. Just a transition chapter

A/N 2: Alas! a new chapter! So I decided to merge a one-shot I’ve been working on with this new chapter. Thank you all for reading!!! I deeply, truly appreciate it :’) as always, feedback’s appreciated!!

Clouds.

Alabaster gaseous matter formed with every trembling exhale. A ghastly thing that soon withered to a dark null. One which became part of the cold nothingness the fallen Icarus prince found himself surrounded by.

Cold damp stone met his aching palms. If once such low temperatures had no stir to his being, now it sent pangs and jolts through his blood. The bitter cold seeped through his pores and into his decaying soul.

The fallen prince, with his innocent eyes now bloodshot, endeavored to push himself from the damp floor yet his strengths betrayed his crippling will. Right away his torn gold-plated chest hit the cold ground as all air inside his lungs was no more.

“Allfather…” he sobbed, failing to swallow the lump, as a loose tear allied with his weakness, “Father…why have you abandoned me?” The single pearl of salt danced down his cheek while his stare remained on the black stone ground; while his hands continued to struggle to at least be on his knees. “Why…” his ghastly face contorted. Another lament betrayed his lost facade of vain and might. “Why have you left me, father? Why have you abandoned me, mother?”

His words still echoed. The resounding ‘No’ before letting go. Yes. Before letting go.

Loki had fallen. Fallen so suddenly, so haltingly, so briskly, so gracefully.

Unmade in the process, his broken body and exhausted mind traveled through space, journeyed through time.

Fell and landed on a field of cold and clouds and shadows. Of watching eyes whose bodies remained embraced by the darkness. Of distant screams and wails enticed by mistress torture.

What a misfortune.

Another moan ripped away from his throat. One which became a breath of strength to his soul.

Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, his palms pushed his body off of the ground. Yet his arms did not move at all. Nothing happened, his body remained prostrated. Loki could not feel his limbs, could not feel the rest of his body at all. His body was numb. Dormant from the fall.

And his blue lips quivered. Trembled as a ragged wail burned his throat followed by hiccups and suffocating sucks of air. His forehead pressed against the cold stone ground. “I could have done it…I could have done it. I could have done it.”

His head remained bowed down, tears blurring and blinding his sight; facing the grim ominous dirt embodying his downfall and misery; letting loose trembling strands of coal hang and stick to his forehead while his decaying body broke in ripples of sweat that frostbit his bones.

The young prince cried, sobbed and trembled before the black starless sky; before curious eyes guarding and waiting. Fisted the dirt, tasted his own blood, heeded the distant cries and screams caressing his spine, recalled it all yet ignored it all.

“I could have done it…” his jaw clenched and ached. The pounding inside his head bloomed and magnified it all through his body.

Once again he was nothing.

Loki had no wings. No form to soar high into the night. Poor thing, they’d been clipped, plucked mercilessly. Left his bare back bleeding raw. And it would only get worse from there onward, yet he knew not of that at all.

But it mattered naught either.

For his claws remained sharp. As sharp as his silver tongue was. As swift as diamonds cutting through glass. Blood forged. Disappointment sharpened. Ready to be drawn. Anxious to slash. Hungry to bury themselves in the ferrous fine crimson wine.

For many names he’d been called. And relentless was one.

With every movement and flection, his bones trembled. With every weary heartbeat, his strength almost gave in. But now he was sat against a pillar whose tallness appeared infinite. His reddened eyes could see it all now, crystal clear and realized…death was lurking about.

His eyes drifted to the void space, deep down hoping to notice a sign. A raven flying through the gray clouds, a flash of light contrasting with the black, a shooting star…even a spark of colors resembling those of an opal though he didn’t know why.

“He…Hei…Heimdall…” Loki called upon the watcher and protector of the realm he’d known as his homeland. “Heimdall.” Hope tainted his hoarse voice. “Open the Bifrost…” another tear allied with fright and rolled down his pale sunken cheek. “If you can hear me. If you can…see me. I beg you bring forth the Bifrost.”

All noise withered down to a hum. And like a child anxiously awaiting to wish upon a rain of shooting stars, Loki continued to gaze up to the night with his heart thumping and his mind buzzing, already imaging the familiar blinding flash.

“Please…”

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Three heartbeats.

Space remained black.

“Heimdall?” His hand raised to grasp the distant night and swallowed his pride and continued to call. “Mother? Please forgive me.”

It was a matter of patience, had to wait, Loki told himself still clinging to the thinning thread. After all, he was far from home, lightyears away from all known, a million heartbeats away where he belonged.

Yet the waiting was never-ending.

Minutes lost their shape, elongated and transitioned to countless bitter cold nights.

Loki was alone, forgotten, weakened and helpless. Easy prey, the crawling thing. And he couldn’t help but squirm and weep silently from the fear.

His head remained against the pillar and wept his strength away as the shadows danced and took form. “Please…somebody…”

Oh, how he wished his seidr reserves did not empty, did not waste away in healing all that which could not be remedied. To have enough magic to create a little white bird, a beautiful rarity, to send smeared in his blood with a message within its bones. A sign, a feathered warning…to not be forgotten.

“Please,” Loki closed his eyes, already sensing foreign stares peer upon as distant bickering reached his ears. “Please. I pray to thee. Allfathers rejoicing in paradise Valhalla, have mercy on me. I beg please, hear my plea.”

Loki wished to open his eyes, desired to acknowledge his future captors stalk towards him with snarling creatures prowling beside. Yet the overbuilt exhaustion, the suffocating stillness of the disappointing nights forbade him to; the resurfacing screams and uproars of disembodied suffering voices triggered his self-preserve mode. And thus he sought refuge in his mind. Retrieved to the safe heaven where he would remain intact, safe from it all till his strengths came back.

Loki allowed himself to be carried by them, to his downfall, to his unmaking and reshape. Allowed his body to be kidnapped against his racing heart and screaming conscience. For even he obeyed his instincts, his fighting would be futile.

Yet his racing mind was quieted upon the shrieking BOOM! of thunder striking the land…

“Argh!”

Loki sat upright, mad thumping heart against the back of his wide eyes, his throat drowned in hushed sobs and hiccups. He was nothing but a trembling creature; heaving frightened to death, clinging to nothing but his deceiving head.

“Thor?” He called for his brother.

Alabaster clouds still danced about before vanishing into furniture in the blink of watery eyes. And Loki couldn’t help but shakily exhale upon realizing his conscience’s own deceivings. It had been a dream. A nightmare.

His eyes wandered on further, not trusting his own convictions, afraid this too was a dream within a dream. Though he realized he was in the same place he had been yesterday; sitting on the couch, with Luna’s sketchbook on his lap, downstairs..waiting.

Yes. Loki was truly there! The living room was where he headed after the shocking discovery; where he impatiently waited for Luna’s return yet she never did.

Oh, dear gods! He was safe, away from the gates of hell.

Dusk crept through the windows. Clouds covered the skies.

Had he really slept his day away? His floating ponder made him blink multiple times before standing and stretching. He winced at the cracks of his bones and stings on his back; the position he’d drifted to slumber wasn’t the most comfortable, and neither was Midgardian clothing.

Like muscle memory Loki flicked his hand, expecting for the light to flicker to life; completely forgetting the nothingness he’d been left with until darkness prolonged. Disdained, he pursed his lips and made his way to flick the switch on himself.

Much to his disdain, he had not much to do but continue on with the wait. It was exasperating, the silence was too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He could not leave and roam around for his only shield was this home. Step out that door and most likely he’d be detected by the world; by the Allfather if not by Heimdall. And he could not allow that. His whole plans revolved around his apparent death.

The big reveal was not due yet.

Shivers rippled through his spine, traveled through every nerve, swam away in his veins as he walked up the stairs, as the flash of his nightmare played before his glare. It was sickening to remember. A nightmare.

Now that irrational side on him lost appealing.

His limbs went limp and froze in front of Luna’s bedroom door, cursing himself between hisses and ragged breaths. Oh the grand epiphany that’d fallen upon himself. He’d been an idiot. A fool.

Snapping from his dawning, Loki pushed the door and meandered through the dark and into the bathroom.

Ah, glutton. Bit more than he could chew.

He wondered how she was. He hoped that Luna would soon return. Having her away from him made him uneasy, rendered his conscience to grow loud with reproaches and worries for failing to protect her as he’d vowed to do so if something happened.

Loki knew the apology was imminent although he’d pledged against it. Never say never, however. Should’ve known better. If Loki wished her to not leave, that was the remedy; one which was not enough. He knew Luna like the back of his hand, thus acknowledging he’d have to do much than simply ask for her pardoning.

Clothes lay neatly folded by the sink, and soon the tiled space was fogged by crystal mist from the warm artificial stream.

His built figure stood there under the warm embrace of the water, silent, glistening thus enunciating his paleness and markings; at peace yet in an anguishing haze. Loki’s mind kept dwelling between past, present, and future bearings with the scepter being a common denominator.

Yet he’d managed to bury it all, to forget in order for his nightmares to cease hunting again. It’d been nights, days, weeks since he’d dreamt a bad dream. Yet…There was no room for coincidence, no loose strings, nothing; that after discovering his scepter lay at arm’s length all ghosts from the past fluttered to life.

The soft scent of blooming flowers danced through his nostrils just as the foam on his body washed away by the clear stream. Somehow, also carrying away part of his ailing.

The artificial rain ceased. Refracting beads of water rolled through his naked chest and fell from his raven hair as a white towel covered his lower half. The cool tiles against his feet sparked goosebumps to race along his spine.

Again he walked from the light into the dark. And a sudden flash of a memory surfaced before his eyes, perhaps a second epiphany, of him as a child once frightened by the lack of light. Always seeking the comforting warmth of his mother’s arms.

Oh, how Loki missed Frigga, and wondered…was she aware of his apparent death? Had she mourned as little as the Allfather or as much as his brother had presumably done?

Funny how his fear became his comforting mantle from the scorching lights, from the true enemies disguised as lambs.

Shadows took form and elongated as Loki reached the closet and opened it. A pair of jeans and a black tee were his outfit.

He wondered now when Luna had purchased them, or to whom this changes of clothing belonged to in the past. Yet he made no fuss of it as the soft fabric slipped against his scarred flesh; unbeknownst to him, inner jealousy had already been irked by it regardless.

Trailing back to turn off the light of the bathroom, his foot stumbled against a soft surface that soon slid across the floor and laid by the doorframe. Right away his emerald glare discerned it was a book.

Surprise incarcerated his breath in the confinements of his chest as he picked up the familiar worn out hardcover and peered at it in detail. Musky green. Torn out edges. The familiarity of the runic scripture on the spine of it made his heart stop beating right before speeding mad.

Who knew of all places Loki had searched for his favourite book of spells, which he had lost years ago, he would come to find it in this home? Of all places! What were the odds?

The odds, however, were the little girl he had once befriended.

“Little thief,” Loki muttered and smiled warmly.

Meanwhile,

Somewhere in the outskirts of New York City.

“Nothing?” The sound of silence vanished by Matt’s ponder from across the table. His voice was no more than sound waves sheathed by pure boredom, and borderline exasperation intensified by the many rounds of caffeine ingested through the over twenty-four-hour fruitless searches.

“Nada,” Luna responded while rubbing her eyes and drowning out a yawn. The computer screen displayed in a hideous yellow font at the center of the screen a ‘No Match’ sign which made her mentally roll her eyes. Of course she would find nothing. Political high ends would have interest but not the guts to steal the suitcase from the tower.

“Are you sure?” He asked from across the table with his face hiding behind the laptop screen.

“Yes.” Luna groaned as the blinding white lights from the ceiling glared and reflected on the thick glass covering the wood beneath it.

Stalling while incriminating the world was easy. Annoying but easy. Mantled her with the illusion of past normalcy, a mirage of how things used to be.

No doubt Matt believed her words; although, the discrepancy he’d found her at home and not at the Tower was quite startling. All in all, on the other hand, Luna had some Loki in her, no doubt some of his trickery was bound to stick; make a fool think the sky is green when in reality…it is neither blue nor green.

“I’ve gone through every file, nothing stands out, no solid match,” Luna made eye-contact with Matt. “But I don’t doubt the possibility it might have been one of these people. I mean, if what you say is true that whatever’s inside that suitcase is worth so much…” she snorted and hand gestured to his once upon a time friend, “it could’ve been any of the people we’ve played. Any who realized they were double-crossed by us.”

“But nobody knew this intel,” Matt replied and brushed his hair back exasperatedly. “Our circle is tight, Luna. We’re a small group. And we’re running out of time.”

Her eyebrows creased and fell silent momentarily. Luna was meticulously working her angle, but Matt was no idiot. And that made the game all the more difficult.

Apparently, the so-called client/engineer had handed him a deadline. Yet Luna was more than aware it was them, the ones at the higher ranks of the chains. They were breathing down his neck.

“Hey, we’re not the only ones who play underground,” said Luna while sipping from her cold-brewed coffee before freezing her actions and quickly lowering the cup from her lips; the memory of just where she was and with whom placed her cautious side on high alert. “We’re not the only ones who break the rules to get what we want, Matt. Regardless whether it is for the good or bad.”

Luna watched as Matt scratched his chin, deep in thought while she studied his sun-kissed features.

To her, there were no indications the order to have her killed came from him. The car accident was not his doing. As belittling as it sounded in her head, the brown-eyed was no more than a pawn, a disguise. And she couldn’t help but pity the idiot.

Unbeknownst to her unconscious, she was excusing his doings against her by telling herself the retrieval of those traffic cams were just orders from above. Call it fear to loose yet another somebody or denial to acknowledge his betrayal.

A chuckle disrupted the momentary silence in the small conference room the two had been in since yesterday; catching up on things, though Luna knew it was all half-truths. His focus was now on her face whose exhaustion was reflected in the unusual paleness and clouds on her eyes.

“What is it?” He said.

“I think we’re making a big deal out of this,” Luna fiddled with the pulsing opal hanging from the delicate silver chain around her neck. As much as the thumping took her aback, for the stone had never done such thing before, she pushed the nagging thought aside. “What if it was SHIELD all along, which for some reason, moved the suitcase and we’re here like idiots searching for nonexistent ends?”

“It wasn’t them.”

Luna’s smile faded away upon the echo of an accentuated third voice in the room. And her stomach sunk as she turned to face the entrance, at the far right, where two familiar figures stood.

This wasn’t good.

This was so not good.

Luna was a gaping fish. Wide-eyed and barely mustering a stuttered ‘long time no see’ as a greeting towards the two that’d tried to take her out. The twins.

The two were a mirror with a slightly altered reflection of one another. Wanda’s expressive round eyes contrasted very much with Pietro’s downturned glare. It was one of the few differences between the twins, aside from the obvious ones such as height and dye of hair.

The hushed unintelligible whispers were soon to make themselves present as the ginger tried to glimpse inside her mind.

“Luna,” Wanda greeted her and smiled a smile which did not reach her eyes where her annoyance waltzed. “Good to see you’re back! And I still cannot read your mind…”

Pietro, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to the stiffness of his twin. Somehow he seemed laid back, more so than before; acted like one of those foolish casanovas who would oftentimes get the girl with every twirl of his boasts and jokes. Eccentric quicksilver who had once caught her eye once upon a time.

He was good at disguising his emotions.

“Luna,” Pietro grinned and winked.

Idiot, Luna thought as her eyes drifted to Matt.

“I called them in to help after the accident,” Matt explained, blatantly noticing her surprise before turning to the twins. “Please tell me something good you two.”

Matt drifted his attention to the twins who shared a serious glance between them, no words were spoken but that of their telling eyes. Such action which Luna could only define as a quirk of theirs for their silence was quite nerve-wreaking.

As if they hid something, knew something Luna was oblivious of. And in her overbearingly hyperactive and paranoid mind, their silence foretold nothing yet everything. And if it was the latter, to flee from the chaos that would ensue would be difficult.

One to three was not a good ratio.

“All we can tell you is SHIELD did not move the suitcase,” Wanda deadpanned, thus shutting any possibility to lead the search in another direction.

“How are you so sure?” Luna dumbly asked. She already knew the answer.

Wanda glanced at her with that same twinkle of annoyance towards her person. “Because I read their minds, saw them. Every single one. Even your so-called friends’.”

Luna did not know how to react. Her face could only be described as a poem whose allegory was too difficult to understand. For although she knew that’d be the ginger’s answer it still surprised her the staggering hatred dripping within her statement.

Then the shocking question Luna had failed to ask herself about the twins struck her with might: Why? Why agree to carry out the dirty work for them? Why? How grand was the reward for carrying out such a thing? Why?

Luna blinked once, twice, thrice hoping the sudden surface of anger and perplexity withered from burning her chest. “Excuse me, what?”

The jester twin standing beside the ginger huffed and chuckled, crossed his arms as those silver eyes twinkled with amusement. Pietro was reliving a memory.

“Okay,” Luna tilted her head and rested her right palm on the cold surface of the table. A nervous smile formed on her face as she tried to maintain that annoying facade of obliviousness. “Is this what you mentioned to me on our way here? That something went down over there but things got a little out of hand?”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded and gestured with his hand. “That’s what I was talking about.”

“Well, what exactly happened?” Luna questioned.

“In short…uh,” Pietro stepped in, “Matt sent us to the tower, told us the suitcase was in the lower levels, we searched…and searched and searched,“ the silver-haired pointed out, keeping count with his fingers, “and found nothing. Then Wanda decided to change tactics buuuut…”

“Please tell me you didn’t bring out the Hulk,” Luna’s eyes squinted and pursed her lips. Deep down squirming at the memory of the green giant and his eyes with a ring of scarlet. The amount of suffering, desperation, anger, and fear reflected in them haunted the corners of her memory to this day.

Luna pitied the giant as much as she feared his fury. She wondered how Bruce was doing…

“Okay. I did not think through my idea,” Wanda nodded and pursed her lips. “But I was not planning on leaving that tower without information. Now would you like to know what I saw in your friend’s head as I was searching for a lead?”

The wicked grin plastered on the witch’s face made all Luna’s hairs stand on end.

“Thor?” She mumbled. The blond’s name pierced her chest. Her truer friend. The one she betrayed far before it all had gone to hell.

And thinking about it…Luna concluded she deserved all the shit raining down on her for stabbing an individual with pure intentions.

“I…I don’t think…,” chills and sparks caressed and clawed her spine as it planted the seed of discord; the bloom of curiosity.

“Or I can show them to you,” Wanda offered with a twinkle in her eyes as the familiar murmurs in Luna’s head took force. “See for yourself his fears.”

To lose you, his friend. Oh, and how much jealousy! To see you have no eyes for him!

Luna closed her eyes and sighed, holding back, hiding it all in the depths of herself. Yet the pangs and clenches of her heart made swallowing the lump of guilt painstakingly difficult. And it was no help the ire of fire, towards Wanda and her own self, scorching her bones to brittle stone.

Her lips curved and opened her eyes, forcefully showing a smile through her annoyance while shutting her mind. “I think I’ll pass. There are far more important tasks at hand right now, right Matt?”

“True,” the brunet shook his head absentmindedly, thumb holding his child and curled pointer finger against his lips. Deep in thought. “But now that we’re mentioning him, when was the last time you two spoke?”

“We haven’t talked since I went home, why?” Luna spoke right away. Perhaps too quick for her sake. Lying still remained somewhat of a weakness for her.

Unlike Loki…but that was another matter on hold. Luna didn’t let his memory cave in for the remainder of the time being. Not yet.

Matt remained silent, and so too the twins who sat three chairs away from him. His eyes were half-lidded as if to discern between an image blurring by the distance, thinking, planning.

“I thought he’d be mother-hening you these two days,” Matt acknowledged. “Has he tried to get in touch with you?”

“No?” Luna answered. “Before I left he said they were shortly leaving for a mission but didn’t tell me when they’d come back. I just figured he was still on that mission to this day, but I guess not.” Luna crossed her arms and puckered her lips while reclining against the desk chair. “Now with the whole mind-reading thing and whatever else went down…I doubt he’ll have the time.”

And it’s not like Luna would be able to anyway. After all, Thor and the others had suspicions she’d gone missing. That she was taken by those that’d upraised hell on the tower.

Matt locked eyes with Luna as his hand rested on the table, “I think you should call him. Keep in touch. Don’t go awol on him for too long.

“You think my silence would raise suspicion?” Luna cocked her brow curiously. Although she already knew Thor wouldn’t bring her name to question.

“Not necessarily,” Matt said, “but I want to rid of the possibility anyway. You’re our front still. Their distraction and our insider.”

Luna tilted her head ever so slightly, mentally refusing what Matt was proposing. “Right.”

“What the hell, you know what?” Matt jerked his head and hand gestured, “Why don’t you call him now? The sooner the better.”

Luna bit the inside of her cheek as the desire to laugh in his face grew. If he only knew she could not…

Trying to get in touch with him was a resonant ‘NO’. Not only because Mr. Nosy Laufeyson had declared they now relied on the element of surprise, but also and most importantly because Luna had no face to ever look Thor in the eye anymore. Guilt now forbade her from doing so.

“Well. I don’t have a phone. It got destroyed. You know…in the accident.” Luna stammered.

She watched as Matt reached for his back pocket and placed a phone on the table and slid it across. Its screen already unlocked by his fingerprint, already waiting for the number to be dialed. “You can use mine.”

Luna stared at the device. “Matt…” she reproached.

What the hell was Matt and the twins playing at? Luna wondered.

Was this some kind of test? She asked herself.

“Tony won’t be able to trace it back.” He asserted and smiled. “Call him.”

“Don’t you think they’d be a little busy right now,” Luna questioned yet it was no more than an excuse of refusal in disguise.

Matt huffed and silently chuckled, “Luna, it’s you who’s calling. He’ll definitely make time.”

Luna parted her lips, hesitating, feeling all stares on her and making her a helpless child again. Small, frail little girl.

The defeat was inevitable. To do as he said was the only way and Luna was more than aware. To continue building up to excuses would bring no good end but that of being discovered.

Thus, with cold sweaty palms, and feeling the opal pulsating faster, she reached for the mobile and dialed the number she’d memorized before raising it to her ear.

The beeps were soon replaced by an all too familiar robotic voice, JARVIS, who solicited her name and whom she desired to communicate with.

“Thor Odinson,” Luna responded as her eyes focused on the darkness of the table while she waited for the three familiar beeps. Usually, when she called, that was how long it took the Norse god to reach the phone an answer.

This time, however, there was nothing but one single beep. Right away his gruff voice showered her ears which made her heart rattle inside her rib cage.

“Luna?! Is that you?!” His voice tainted with hope and weariness. “Luna?”

And all Luna could do was bite her tongue. Swallow the lump. Stop herself from ending the call and throwing the phone before breaking down.

The desperation in his voice was too much. A stab, a strike to her soul. Tainted it black.

“Hey… it’s me.” Luna built up enough courage to speak and hid her heartbreak behind a weary smile for the prying eyes. Hid all her ailings behind a voice of normalcy, a pitch higher.

A broken sigh echoed through the line. And Luna could already imagine the glassy baby eyes and broken smile on him.

Luna wished to say ‘I’m sorry’. To confide in him just as he’d done before with her. To tell him he was the only one who had been true, honest, pure. Yet cowardice and her alliance made her repeat the same thing:

“It’s me.”

A/N2: this story is flopping but I am determined to finish it regardless!

#Loki #Lover #Angst #God of Mischief #Others #Submitted fic #submission #till we meet again #chapter 18 #marvelgirlonamarvelworld

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fantasyandromancelover · 5 years

Text

The Tale of Tales Chapter 38

Gray tapped his fingers impatiently on Wendy's kitchen table while chewing on some mint leaves. The fairies had told him that it wouldn't take them that long to get ready but they had been preparing themselves for almost three hours.

"Geez why do girls take so long to get ready?" He thought.

Then on cue Wendy walked into the kitchen wearing the sky blue dress with white ribbon and the stitching in the shape of violets lined on to the skirt. Her hair was straight and shiny with a violet flower clipped on to the side.

"You look nice." He told her.

"Thank you."

After her came Evergreen wearing the peridot green dress complete with a corset that fit her figure to perfection while her hair was in a pony tail and a peridot necklace hung around her neck. Then came Levy wearing a slongsleeved marigold colored gown with a poppy red under skirt underneath it and a matching ribbon head band in her hair. Both Evergreen and Levy had managed to make their wings disappear so no one would recognize them as fairies.

"Not bad ladies." Gray commented. "But where's Juvia?"

"In my bedroom. Come out Juvia." Wendy called.

"I don't know about this. I feel kind of silly." Juvia said.

"Nonsense you look beautiful. Now come on." Levy insisted.

Juvia swallowed nervously and finally entered the kitchen. There she stood wearing her late mother's lace and silken white gown with her silver silk slippers on her feet and her blue hair down in curls with white anemone flowers braided behind her head. Gray felt his heart stop and his stomach drop. Never in his life had he seen anything more beautiful. She looked like an angel and seemed to be surrounded by some heavenly glow that only he could see.

"I'm not really used to wearing this stuff." Juvia said.

"But you're a princess." Evergreen said.

"My stepmother took away all my more extravagant dresses and had me wear more plain ones. She also took away all my make up, perfumes, and jewelry. She even stole my locket once but I got it back."

"Well it's a shame because jewelry and fine gowns look wonderful on you." Levy said. "What do you think Gray?"

But the poor young man was speechless at the moment and could only stand there with mouth a gape while blushing.

"Close your mouth hunter boy you'll catch flies." Evergreen teased.

Gray quickly did as she said and looked away to hide his blush.

"I...I think we should go now."

That made Juvia sad. Truth be told she was actually hoping that he would find her beautiful and the fact that he looked away and said nothing made her think that he didn't like how she looked. They went outside where horses were waiting and rode off to the village. Natsu, Lucy, Erza, and the dwarfs had walked to the village though Erza had seperated from the group to see her grandmother and they sent Gajeel with her in case another witch hunt went after her again. It was sun down by the time they all met up. Elfman and Romeo were relieved to see that Juvia was alive and well and she was happy to see Lucy again.

"I'm so glad you're alright." Lucy said as the two friends embraced.

"Me too."

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you. Levy brought you a gown also."

"Mmm- hmm. Now follow me Lucy and we'll get you ready."

Levy then took her aside to a private area where she could get her ready.

"Now then what dress shall we give you? Same as before? Gold really does suit you." Levy said. "The first gown was made from sunlight and stardust, my finest work yet."

"Actually Levy I wouldn't mind a more simple gown." Lucy said.

"Of course."

"And please don't make me look exactly as I did the night of the ball."

"Why not?"

"Because Natsu will recognize me as the girl he danced with."

"So?"

"So he can't know."

"Why?"

"Because it's... It's complicated I really don't want to talk about it. Just make me plain looking."

"Well I can't do that but I can make you recognizable this time. You'll look as you did that night but everyone will be able to see it's you."

"Okay but I'll keep my regular shoes this time."

"As you wish."

Levy then used her magic to dress Lucy in the gown of pure gold with her hair in an updo styled with gold ribbons and threads but she let Lucy's flat peasant shoes remain on her feet and didn't use any special magic to hide her identify. When the two maidens walked into the village square all heads turned in amazement. Never in their lives, had any of them seen two young women more beautiful and they couldn't decide which one of them was more lovely.

"What's everyone staring at?" Juvia whispered to Lucy.

"I think they're staring at us." Lucy whispered back.

"Oh dear. I'm not used to everyone paying so much attention to me. Normally whenever there were big events like this Stepmother would keep me locked up in my bedroom."

"I know the feeling, normally I spent events like these in the kitchen."

Romeo and Elfman began to join in the band with playing music. Young men and women started to dance in the square. Several young men were desperately trying to get Lucy and Juvia to dance with them. Wanting to be polite they accepted but some of them proved to be quite the nuisance.

"Won't you honor me with another dance?" One young man who Juvia had danced with said.

"No thank you, I think I'll take a break from dancing if you don't mind." She said.

"Oh surely you could spare one more dance for me." He kissed her hand then started to kiss up her arm much to her disgust.

"Sir this is most improper and I implore you to stop." She said.

But he just ignored her and before his lips could get any closer to her shoulder and face, Gray kicked the man away from her.

"What the hell?!" He shouted irritated.

"Oh sorry about that." Gray said. "It would seem that my leg was having a muscle spasm."

Gray was smiling and chuckling like it was a harmless accident but the man could see him gripping his dagger intensely, ready to strike should he get pushed too far. Understanding the warning the man quickly ran off.

"Hmm...Never took you to be the flirtatious type Juvia."

"I wasn't flirting with him. In fact I didn't really like him all that much."

"But you danced with him."

"Yes but I was only being polite."

"What about those other men you danced with?"

"What about them?"

"Did you like them?"

"I don't know. I barely knew them, as I said before I was only being polite."

"Oh..."

"Are you jealous?"

"What?! No! Of course not!"

"It's okay if you are."

"But I'm not! I'm just saying you should be cautious when certain men take a liking to you."

"True but I think-"

"Hey Juvia why don't you sing for us!" Romeo called.

"Oh I don't know."

"Come on. You're the best in all of Fiore."

Juvia sighed but with a smile she agreed. The musicians began to play a soft romantic ballad that was well known by many.

"Come over the hills, my bonnie Irish lad

Come over the hills to your darling

You choose the rose love, and I'll make the vow

And I'll be your true love forever." She sang with her beautiful voice as couples started to dance.

"Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows

Fair is the lily of the valley

Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any."

After singing that verse there was a music break, while waiting for the next verse she just causally walked around. However she was completely startled and taken off guard when the next part of the song was sung by a man's voice.

"Twas down by Killarney's green woods we strayed

The moon and the stars they were shining

The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair

She swore she'd be my love forever."

She looked in the direction of where the voice came from and to her surprise it was Gray. He waltzed over to her and continued to sing.

"It's not for the parting that my sister pains

It's not for the grief of my mother

'Tis all for the loss of my bonnie Irish lass

That my heart is breaking forever."

He had a wonderful singing voice and it sent shivers down Juvia's spine and blush to her cheeks. Another music break was taken. Gray bowed, Juvia curtsied, he offered her his hand, she accepted it, and the two started to waltz just as the other couples did. Throughout the dance the two never broke contact once and they never broke away from each other. Not even when it was time for the next verse which they sang together.

"Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows

Fair is the lily of the valley

Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any."

Their voices matched together perfectly and the two of them smiled and gazed at each other the whole time.

"Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any."

As they finished their song they found themselves leaning in closer. Her eyes closed, his were half lidded, and just before their lips could meet they were interrupted by the audience clapping and cheering for them. Gray's face was burning red and he quickly stepped away from her. Juvia only smiled shyly while trying to cover his blush cheeks.

Song used: Red Is The Rose by Orla Fallon and Tommy Fleming

#fairy tail #fairy tail au #fairy tales #brothers grimm #cinderella #snow white #lucy heartfilia #juvia loxar #gray fullbuster #gruvia #gray x juvia #fanfiction #fanfic

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blankdblank · 6 years

Text

Chap Stick Pt 5

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 -

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @abiwim, @jotink78, @c-s-stars, @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @thequeenoferebor,

...

Gets smutty after another glimpse at the oc’s past. Also mentions of past abuse.

…

Smirks and glances from the Princes grew looking between your Husbands, both subtly trying to fill your plate with their additions to the meal. Your easy smile grew as you accepted helpings from them both and turned your head to greet Dain on his entrance to join you to share the news that had arrived with his Cousin. Dain accepted the free seat and passed a note to Thorin, “The Southern Kings are asking for a gathering to discuss Dwarves returning to Moria.” In a glance at you he cautiously added, “Though they are refusing assistance of Queen Rowena’s enchanted doorways for travel.”

Thorin’s brows furrowed, “That would take weeks to travel to Orcarni.”

Dain nodded, “Yes, I have spoken with Gandalf though, he has agreed to gain aid from the Great Eagles for our travels.”

With a sigh Thorin looked over to you then back to Dain, saying flatly, “I am not leaving. If he wishes to regain trade from Moria and Dale he can travel here. I have my people and family to tend to. If he does not agree with that then he can wait until I am able to travel.”

Dain nodded with a smirk and drew a pre written and sealed letter from his pocket a Raven along the wall flew to his shoulder to claim, “I hoped you might say that.” His eyes glimmered at you, “Besides, we’ve a feast to prepare for.”

Your brow rose curiously, “Feast?”

Dain nodded smiling at your Husbands, “A celebration, of the union of our lands and to officially welcome, and thank our new Queen.”

Thorin couldn’t help but smirk as he asked, “And how long have you been planning this?”

Dain chuckled lowly, “Since we learned you were wed. Though my people have been in a frenzy to get everything together for a week long frenzy. Three days for our clans and three for yours with a resting day in between to sleep off the ale.”

In your nervous habit your fingers rose to smooth over the fake gauge earring at the tip of your ear above your dark freckle that caused your lips to part as your fingertip smoothed along the grove there stirring a memory. Across form you Fili asked, “Everything alright Auntie?”

All eyes shifted to you and you glanced up, “I’d forgotten, my chests.” Their brows rose as they watched you unscrew the outer cover for the silver hexagonal cover to your earring you pulled off and turned over in your fingertips drawing their eyes. A click brought the hidden pocket inside you swished your finger over drawing a set of chests that grew as they neared the floor as you closed it and screwed it back on again. On their feet the group eyed the large chests, three of them could easily fit in stacked one on top of the other, your smile inched back as you opened the one closest to you and showed them, “My books and clothes. I couldn’t find them in my bag, thought I’d dropped them.”

Thranduil smirked peering over your shoulder and reached inside to grab the top book only to flinch his hand back when it growled at him. “Interesting..”

You giggled softly and raised the book in your hands allowing them to read, “Monster book of Monsters.” The Spider seeming book growled again then purred as you stroked its spine muttering, “Spiders, Spiders…Ah.” Your fingers halted the flipping of the pages and you grinned, “Well good thing they’re not Acromantulas.”

Thranduil eyed the page asking as he read the expert on the giant cursed beasts flourishing in his lands, “What is the difference between those and,” his finger tapped the page causing the book to grumble again, “these, Racnizons?”

You glanced up at him with a smile, “These shrivel in direct sunlight. One simple spell and they’ll be gone. Acromantulas require potions and various enchanted objects to kill the living then purge the nests and webs.” Closing the book you bound it again then caught Thorin flipping quietly through one of your ancient runes textbooks.

Lowly he asked as you put your Monster book down, “Where did you get this?”

His eyes rose to meet yours, “It’s one of the main textbooks for my Ancient Runes courses.”

His lips parted, “You can read this?” You nodded, “This is a copy of Durin the Deathless’ Journal.”

Your eyes lowered to it, “In my world that is the Journal of a Wizard known as Merlin.”

Lowly he repeated, “Merlin…” His fingers flipping through the book as he asked, “Can you translate this?” Nipping at your lip you turned and shifted the top tray out of the way to ease your fingers along the spines of your notebooks to draw out one of them you passed to Thorin with a smile.

“One of our first assignments to translate that book. I have a dictionary on it if you have more books in those runes.”

Dain softly asked in a stunned tone, “You know Kurdu?”

“If that’s Kurdu then yes. I excelled in History and language courses. Got a good job as a translator out of it in the Ministry of Magic.” Your head turned to Thorin, “Which reminds me, I know Khuzdul is a secret language-.”

He smiled at you cradling the books to his chest, “We will teach you Dearest Kurkarukê.”

Your smile grew as you caught Kili grabbing a smaller chest from the second chest he and his Cousin Thor had opened. Curiously they opened it and gasped at the stash of gold inside. Fili, “You have a hidden stash of your own I see.”

His smirk grew as he glanced at you while Thor claimed the velvet lined box tucked along the side, smirking you replied, “That, Fili is my life savings. 400 gold coins.”

Thorin smirked replying, “Well now that will be added to the thousands you have earned in your share of the hoard.”

You rolled your eyes saying, “I don’t need that much gold.”

He smirked back then looked at his Son who gasped at the large diamond and sapphire necklace forming a V with large Sapphires along the top with dangling rows of Diamonds ended with sapphires finishing the elegant wave of jewels with matching earrings starting with large sapphires above seven dangling strings of diamonds and sapphires in matching points. The entire set being worth a jaw dropping sum at the stones alone without a close glance at the White Gold chains and settings. In a glance at you Fili asked, “I thought you weren’t wealthy, before you came here.”

You shook your head, “I wasn’t.” You glanced at the necklace and giggled, “Oh that. My friends Albus and Nicholas gifted me that. I got assigned into a Triwizard tournament. I didn’t have anything to wear to the Yule Ball, they split the costs helping me find a dress and surprised me with those.” You giggled again, “They really are convincing aren’t they? I nearly thought they were real myself but they had a receipt from the second hand shop they found them in.”

The gems were passed around drawing Balin and Dwalin closer as well when they came to pass a message on to the King, each taking turns with Balin’s eye glass inspecting the stones. After wetting his lips Thorin met your eyes stating, “This is no forgery.”

In a disbelieving giggle you asked, “Then why would-.” Tears filled your eyes as your self doubt flooded through your mind while every memory with your short time with your best friends flooded back.

Gently Thranduil’s hand stroked across your back, “Your friends loved you.” Your head tilted back to peer up at you allowing him to wipe away a stray tear of yours, “It is excruciatingly difficult to pamper you Love. Even when I crafted the ring you had supplied the stones to you doubted it was truly a gift.”

You glanced at the set again, “How, how much would that be?”

Balin pursed his lips then glanced at Dwalin, “5?”

Dwalin shook his head, “No, even with the White Gold settings it’s over 7.”

Balin turned to look at you, “I would guess at least 8000 gold pieces.”

Your lips parted and Dwalin added, “Not counting labor.”

Thorin chuckled lowly, “This piece should have taken at least 5 month to complete simply shaping the stones.”

In your silence Thor asked, “Did you win?” Your head turned to look at him, “The Tournament?”

You nodded, “350 gold coins. Most of my savings. Wasn’t much of a win though.”

Fili’s brows furrowed, “Why’s that?”

Kili chuckled, “What happened, you send the others off through one of your doorways?”

You shook your head, “No, um, There was a mishap with the Swooping Evil when it got knocked into the Thunderbird, huge debacle, ended up killing the other two contestants in the shifting bogs.”

Dain, “Swooping Evil?”

Kili smirked, “What’s a Thunderbird?” As Fili asked puzzlingly, ‘shifting bogs?”

“Swooping Evil, it’s a mixture between a, well sort of like a butterfly and a snake. It’s venom is used to erase bad memories. Thunderbirds are like giant eagles with double sets of wings, they can summon storms. Um, the bogs, well, it’s a bog that was enchanted to try and kill us. Always shifting the small island pathways and pools of water enchanted to get us um, it sort of hummed to lull us in. I thought there were Sirens in the water to drag us under, so I didn’t touch it. Then there was the stinging mists and random hidden mythical creatures we had to get past to reach the cup.”

Thorin raised a brow, “You did all that, for a cup?”

You nodded and reached into your gold chest and drew out the moving newspaper clipping with you bloody and trying to pull a set of shrieking toads from your hair as the Minister of Magic held the cup in front of you and the young Albus and ghostly pale Nicholas both trying to help you with your hair. “It’s more like a trophy. We don’t get to keep it, but my name was engraved on it with the others.”

Balin stared at it, “How is it moving?”

“Oh, it’s enchanted. Our pen ink is the same, so our doodles can move as well.”

Thranduil, “Ah, that explains the fountains in your sketches.” Gently he claimed the picture eyeing the pair behind you, “Your friends?” You nodded. “They seemed fond of you indeed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, “Nicholas was married and Albus, was otherwise attached to someone else.”

Thor nodded, “Ah.” Thranduil set the clipping back in your chest and asked, “Any other hidden gifts?”

You shook your head, “Few blankets, books. No jewels though.” Your eyes shifted to the gifted velvet box into your gold chest before it was placed with your clothes again and that chest was closed and rose up causing the men to hop back eyeing the paw ended legs taking it through the room towards your closet. You flashed another smile, “The chests also have a hidden pocket inside thieves get trapped inside.”

They blinked at you before Kili and Fili laughed saying, “That is so cool!”

Thor smiled, eyeing the other book chest asking, “This one do the same?”

You nodded, “They’re sold in pairs or they tend to explode. It’s a simple spell.”

He grinned as Dain chuckled saying, “Handy spell indeed.” His eyes lowered to watch you close the chest that soon followed its twin to your closet.

Turning back to finish your meal again you watched Thorin on his path to meet with his waiting kin seeking answers about the process of moving back again. His warm hug and kiss on your cheek still coating you as you filled your fork and looked to Fili as he asked Thranduil, “You haven’t happened to teach her Dwarvish dances, have you?”

Thranduil shook his head, “No. We had lessons on several Elvish languages and a few traditional dances.”

Kili smirked, “Guess we’ll have to handle it then.”

Making your smile grow as Dain stood saying, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see to a few more details and I will make a stop in the library for a few introductory novels for our language.”

“Thank you.”

He bowed his head smiling at you through his turn away that drew the boys to join him on their own errands. With a smile Thranduil eyed the Elves entering to clean up after the meal as he extended his hand to guide you back to your room allowing you to dress again. Wetting your lips you pulled a simple tank top and silk lilac blouse on you tucked into your gifted pants and boots from the day before. In a reach up you wound the top half of your hair back and secured it with a hair clip shaped like a butterfly coated in a few fake silver gems in each point of the wings.

Nipping at your lip you quietly slipped through the doorway to Greenwood after tucking your wand behind your hair clip in its usual hiding place from your old world. Quietly you peeked through the King’s room and flashed him a brief wave when he exited his closet shirtless in a fresh pair of pants with a fresh under shirt in his hand and his boots in the other. His large smile grew as he stated, “That is a lovely shirt Dearest.”

You couldn’t help but smile approaching him, “Thank you,” in a lean down he set his boots at the foot of his bed and stepped closer to you watching your eyes scanning over his bare chest. You nipped at your lip and met his gaze asking, “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

Holding back his comment and near chuckle he nodded and extended his arms knowing he had to allow you to understand he trusted you completely and you could do the same in return. In a step forward your body melted against his chest as your eyes closed, hearing his calming heart beat thumping against your ear while your hands smoothed slowly around his back. His arms eased around you while his cheek pressed to the top of your head as his smooth velvety voice drew you tighter around him, “My Dearest Love, you may touch me and hold me whenever you wish. You have my trust and my love, if you still wish to request permission first I will not argue against it as long as it is what you wish and not out of fear of my refusal. Something you will never receive, My Love.”

As you tilted your head back you eyes locked and he smiled as he leaned in to close the distance at your rise to your toes to claim a kiss. Warmly his lips molded to yours for the brief set of cautious pecks before his soft chuckle as your fingers traced the dip in the center of his back. In a purr he drew a blush from you when he asked, “Why would you ever assume I wouldn’t wish for you to touch me?”

“I-.”

He chuckled and nodded gently drawing your hands from his back to be planted on his chest, with a playful smile he added, “I trust you. First, my chest and stomach.” His hands folded around the backs of yours smoothing them over his chest and stomach deepening your blush before he released your hands drawing your eyes to his. “Now, my arms.” Holding them before him he smirked and nodded his head to encourage you to follow the mild order. Dropping your gaze your hands left his middle to gently land on his wrists and smooth up and around his arms and shoulder before he smoothed his hands around your middle guiding you to the bed’s edge where he sat down, “Now, shoulders.”

Wetting your lips you were helped onto his lap and timidly smoothed your hands over his shoulders and up his neck at his next order. “Now my hair.” You smirked and combed your fingers through his hair, “Ears,” he chuckled as you traced the ridge of his ears and cupped his cheeks through the kiss you claimed from him. A low hum left him through his lean into it working his lips against yours while he held back his shiver at your fingers tracing just under his jaw. Quickly your lips left his to press to the tip of his nose earning another chuckle from him when his forehead pressed to yours for a moment before he claimed another gentle kiss from you. “We’ve covered above the waist, now-…”

Your panicked glance up at his eyes brought him to lift you and set you beside him as he stated, “Feet.”

Softly you looked him over asking, “What?”

He shifted on the bed raising both his legs to hold his feet just above your lap smirking at you, “Feet.” You weakly giggled disbelievingly and he repeated a bit firmer in his joking tone, “Now now, you can’t stop now.”

Your giggle sounded again as he moved his feet closer to you as he wiggled his toes causing you to lean back avoiding them as you spotted the curious Prince Legolas eyeing the pair of you when he entered. Again he added, “They’re clean.”

You giggled again and called out to the Prince now halfway to the bed, “Legolas your Ada is trying to make me touch his feet!”

Legolas snickered stating, “Lord Celeborn was requesting a word with you.”

Thranduil sighed curling his legs before him as you sat up allowing him to pull you closer to him to claim another gentle kiss and to press his forehead against yours before he mentally stated in a comforting tone, “My game would have stopped at my knees Love. I will never force that.” His lips met yours again as he claimed your hands and placed them on his feet making you giggle as he let out a victorious laugh and turned to stand and face his Son.

Legolas smiled at his Father saying, “Ada, I was speaking to Naneth actually.”

“Me?”

Legolas nodded and you stood while Thranduil pulled on his under shirt and boots saying, “Possibly about the barriers and doorways.” You nodded and eyed the silver robe he had grabbed causing him to pause and glance between it and you, “Is there another you would prefer?”

“Would you be against the green one?”

He smiled softly and nodded entering his closet and returning with a pale green one he held up, “This one?” You nodded and he slid it on, turning to his shelf inside the closet to add his crown and join your side offering his hand to leave another kiss on your knuckles for the path to join the Elf Lords, securing the long trail of buttons along the way.

A simple set of glass marbles enchanted with a simple sunlight spell were tossed through the open front gate of the kingdom and flew off in separate directions before the gates were sealed at the King’s order to assure no spiders could escape the spell. Their distant cries eventually died as you joined Lord Celeborn in the library beside Lord Elrond peering over the layers of sketches and diagrams of the former fortress in Southern Greenwood. When you entered you smiled at them and examined each of them before using a nearby closet to let you enter the fortress again to use an old spell to reform the ruined Palace back together again and send a bubble spell that formed around all of Greenwood. A spiraling set of arches were formed into doorways to each Elven Kingdom allowing you into Rivendell and Lothlorien as well.

Your path back to your new lands brought your eyes to a set of small enchanted wooden boat figurines shaped like ducks earned a curious furrow from your brows before Lord Celeborn stated, “We have received word our kin is returning from Valinor.”

You nodded after Thranduil smiled at you lowering your hand from his lips to say, “We will be needing more room for our kin.”

A voice called through your doorway claiming the Elven King from your side freeing you to wander freely back towards Erebor. In the long day the Elven councils got locked into a lengthy debate that would last through the night. Your wandering path brought you to Thorin’s side where you simply leaned against his side allowing him to curl his arms around you in your tightening nuzzle and hug. His smirk grew through his continuing his orders until he could lead you back to start a simple lunch. The meal ended with you claiming the stack of Khuzdul books into your room when Thorin had to head back to another debacle a group of Dwarves were causing.

Alone again you pulled on a silk nightgown and walked towards the growing amount of sighs coming from Thorin’s study. With a hot mug of tea you entered drawing his exhausted eyes straight to you. A smirk spread on his face and grew into a large smile in your path to him. Gingerly his hand molded around the warm mug as you sat on the bare corner of his desk and asked, “Returning Dwarves giving you trouble?”

A heated gaze from him slid over you as subtly as he could manage after he set his mug aside, “Yes. Plus we received a response from the Southern Kingdoms.”

“Bad news?”

“They are sending an ambassador to confirm the reclamation of Erebor, the King’s Stone and Moria.”

With a near glare you replied, “I’m halfway tempted to send a doorway and drag them through it.”

He chuckled lowly, “Well Darling. I do hope it doesn’t come to that.” Leaning back in his chair he moved his hand to claim one of your feet to gently start massaging it, “But I do hope it doesn’t come to that. I am certain our joined Kingdoms will be enough of a deterrent for them to do anything foolish.”

Inch by inch he worked his hands over your lower legs and feet sharing his day without you until your hand was offered to him silently asking him to stand. His fingers stayed on your lower legs as he stood, his smirk inching back when your fingers gripped his shirt loosely drawing him closer to you. In a low purr as his forehead met yours while your hands smoothed under his shirt along his sides after your hushed request to remove the thin layer between you, he said, “Remove any of my layers whenever you wish Darling. I am entirely at your service Kurkarukê.”

His lips met yours through your hands raising his shirt, in a reach up he gripped it and pulled it off once your lips had left his. In a glance over his broad chiseled chest with dark hair coating his pecks and tapering off into a trail towards his navel disappearing below his waistband you asked, “What does that mean?”

He smirked at you inching closer again bringing a wave of warmth from his bare skin just inches from yours stirring a soft blush over your cheeks, “My tiny Raven.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and raised your hands to press your fingertips to his navel starting a path higher to his chest and shoulders after he said, “I trust you. If you’re wishing for my permission to touch me you have it.” Through a soft sigh his heated gaze fell over you again when your fingers smoothed around his neck and you leaned in for another kiss. A single gentle kiss grew into fiery passionate embraces and muffled sighs leaving the King on his knees at your feet.

Inch by inch he left gentle warm kisses from your ankles higher between rising presses of fingers over your legs towards your heated core soon uncovered after a request from you to not stop after his head pausing at your upper thigh. Soft gasps left you through your head rolling back when he dove straight to the task of drawing more pleased moans and sighs from you. Against his urge to keep going he rose when he tipped you over the edge, firmly he pulled you against his chest curling you in his arms when he caught your ripple of emotions in your eyes.

Carefully in his arms you nestled trying to hold back your tears as he murmured, “I love you. Every moment with you I will devote to caring for your every need and desire.” Your head tilted back to meet his adoring gaze, his lips met your nose sweetly, “No one is going to hurt you or our future family, I swear it.”

His fingers caressed your cheek tenderly, “I know.”

The rising heat in your eyes from his rising heart beat at your legs wrapping around his waist, “Are you enjoying this? My touching you?” You nodded and he couldn’t help but purr when your legs slid higher on his sides, “Did you want me to keep going?”

Barely above a whisper you replied, “Yes.”

He nodded ghosted his lips against yours for a hint of a kiss while his hands slid along your thighs again, “Would you mind moving to the bed, so you can lay back?”

With your nod he claimed a firmer kiss gripping your legs as your arms circled his shoulders for him to carry you to his bed. “I am going to please you then until you tell me to stop.” His bulge brushed against your core and he caught your flinching expression, “All this, is to please you. My pants stay on until you want them off. All of this is for you, I will not go farther than you wish and you do not have to touch me at all unless you wish to.” You nodded and the warm stack of furs welcomed you into the giant cloud like mattress he laid you across holding his lips on yours until your muffled whimper against his lips sending him down again.

Moans and soft muffled whimpers came from you until your whimpered request to stop bringing him up again to melt into your hum filled kiss. On his side he curled you in his arms continuing your loving embrace as your fingers smoothed across his chest and back. Inch by inch they trailed lower to his waistband then dipped underneath after his cautioning reminder you did not have to touch him that melted into an oddly pleasing moan from him.

Centuries back you could remember each burning moment your mind had not erased at the swooping death’s venom you had been given by your saviors to ease the pain of what you had endured. But a few memories and glimpses still lingered around the Son you had never been able to hold in your arms or protect form your cruel captors. Rough chapped lips and scarred brittle hands sliced from decades of scraping and tearing the earth they had tended for food each day between the repairs on the outer walls on their borders. A raspy gritted voice from the now faceless man pinning you down in the soul tearing continuous thieving act he’d bought you for.

Thorin however left each heart achingly tender brush and caress of his fingers across your skin between firm grips and strokes from his palms in a somehow welcome claiming grip you had wanted from him. You had been owned and stolen centuries ago, but his every loving murmur and heated gaze over you revealed his wish to fill you entirely and complete your marital bond as you had been raised to believe it was his right to do so. Your lines were drawn by him and he would not cross them, holding true to that you nipped your lip starting to believe that his words were true and you were in control, something that brought the thought of giving in to the urge to allow him to do just that.

Each thought now doubling as the Elf King’s promises had been the same as well. Clearly with more time together these thoughts had passed through your mind stirring up an old ache inside you always rising to the surface when you had fallen helplessly for someone. Every inch of you burned to have another chance at a family, and now with not just one but two Husbands that possibility had become so much more possible. The only thing holding you back was their clear distaste for one another you hoped they could look past with enough time.

Clearing your racing thoughts you focused on his reaction to your timid strokes growing firmer through your tongue darting between his lips meeting his in a fevered reaction. Tender fingers brushed higher on your thighs and dipped between them at their shifting granting him silent permission. Soft whimpers sounded against his lips again and his lips left yours as he drew back to turn and lay on his other side after a purred request to taste you again. Firmly his hands cupped your ass drawing you to kneel above him within moments leaving you staring at his halfway exposed groin through your first low moan at his hands guiding you in a rock above him after he settled your nightgown out of his way around his head.

In a resettling breath your hand shifted from the bed sheets to return to its firm strokes drawing low moans from him sending vibrations through his lips and tongue as he neared his peak. This shared action and clear show of trust you had found in him settling your bond together in matrimony earned growing moans from him causing his throbbing arousal in your hands to release its first warning droplet you wet your lips in a silent encouraging mental murmur to yourself. Your lips sank to just around his head as his lips shifted onto your thighs to muffle his loud moan while his hands gripped your ass tightly through his climax. The lack of a hand gripping your head to shove it lower earned a swallowing of his seed willingly before a couple swipes of your tongue to claim the few left over drops.

Your head rose after and your body froze at the door opening revealing Dwalin with his wide eyes spotting Thorin’s knees around your head with you on your knees. Rapidly he stated in Khuzdul, “I’ll handle it” before shutting the door again and rushing out of the apartment. Your ragged breath however in your struggle to fight back the flickering memory of your captor’s Brother coming in for his turn after Thorin slid free from under you, he wiped his face and sat up cautiously easing closer to you after his eyes locked on yours.

A tear down your cheek only came to your attention at his fingers brushing it away as he rumbled out in a low soothing tone, “I’m right here. No one is hurting you again.”

You nodded and eased against his chest allowing him to slowly wrap you in his arms between peppered kisses across your forehead, “Can, we lock the door next time?”

His lips found your forehead again, “Absolutely Kurkarukê. If you want a deadbolt added I will see to it myself.”

“I, know Dwalin wouldn’t, I-.”

“I understand. Anything you need to feel safe let me know.” You nodded and pulled back to claim a timid kiss, in a purr, “Did you want a bath?”

“Would-?” His adoring smile drew the rest of your request out of you, “You join me?”

“Absolutely.” Weakly you smiled and he slid you to the edge of the bed helping you up and guided you to your closet where he left you with a gentle kiss purring again, “I’ll add your oils and grab a set of clothes for me as well.”

You nodded and knelt to pull out a fresh set of panties and another nightgown before you used your clip to pull your hair up. In your bath you eyed the mixing herbs in the spring fed bath then turned as Thorin joined you smiling as he set his pants next to your clothes and crossed to you claiming another gentle kiss. “Did you want me to turn?”

You shook your head and reached up to brush down one of the straps, “Just no pitying gazes.”

His brows furrowed as he replied, “I would never!”

Wetting your lips you dropped your second strap and eased your gown down to the floor allowing him to see you fully without anything to hide your scars. Cautiously he inched closer easing his hands around your sides to claim another kiss you melted into, reaching down you untied his pants stripping him as well. Fully exposed your eyes closed and he curled around you when you nestled against him for a tight embrace. In a hushed whisper you stated, “I love you.”

With a growing grin he replied, “I love you. There is not an inch of you I don’t adore.”

Pulling back again you eyed him fully drawing his smirk out as he held out his arms leaving your hands on his chest to slide over his side onto his back when he turned around giving you a full look. He chuckled lowly and claimed your hand, pressed a kiss to your palm and led you into the bath where you lounged in his lap wrapped safely in his arms against his chest. Wetting your lips you asked, “What, um, what role does an Aunt play for Dwarves typically?”

With a deep inhale Thorin realized what painful situation Dis must have put you in, “Nothing’s required past the naming ceremony. Just being present at my side, well wishes and a gift. Did the offer upset you?”

“Not the offer. Just, I didn’t realize she was pregnant before.”

“We can stay in your kingdom if it bothers you. Or I can place her and Vili in charge of the Blue Mountains.”

With a soft giggle you replied, “No. It wouldn’t matter, a lot of the Hobbits are pregnant and Bilbo received word of more pregnancies already. I just, it’s just and old ache, from me.”

Around your middle his arms tightened, “How can I help?”

“I don’t want to, seem like, like this, tonight-.”

Against your ear he rumbled sweetly in a curious tone, “You want a child?” You nodded and turned your head to rest against his cheek, “I would never assume you would ever cross any intimate boundaries simply to conceive.” His lips planted on your forehead, “We have both agreed that any child will belong to us three. And no matter how soon or far off we will be thrilled to conceive with you. Please don’t doubt that. We may not agree on everything but we do agree on you and everything pertaining to your protection and happiness.”

A grumble from you caused him to release you when you shifted at the scar herbs itching your skin, “I can’t stand these scar herbs.”

He smiled accepting your hand to climb out and dry off. Once dressed he curled you in his arms for another kiss then joined you on the path to your bed after adding your dirty clothes to your hamper. Lovingly he wrapped you in his arms claiming another kiss in his nuzzling closer to you for the night under your tall pile of furs.

In the early morning light of the sunrise Thorin stirred and kissed your forehead giving you a hushed request for you to sleep as long as you wished on his path to dress and ease through the Elven doorway as Thranduil sat on the foot of his bed grumbling to himself in Elvish. Falling silent he eyed Thorin and nodded his head in return to Thorin’s nod, “Thorin.” He wet his lips, “Is Tiger upset with me?”

Thorin shook his head, “No. I, wished to speak with you about something.”

Thranduil nodded settling his hands on his thighs focusing on trying to read his every minute physical action to work out the meaning for this abrupt conversation. “About what?”

“Tiger.” Thranduil straightened up in his deep inhale ready to barge out of the room, “If, should you both decide to become, intimate.”

“Does this really need to be discussed now?”

Thorin nodded, “If you should, ask her if she wishes to have the door locked.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, “Why would you-.”

Thorin’s hand rose, “Dis asked Tiger to play a role in her Pebble’s lives. Increasing her struggle-.”

“She is wishing to conceive? Already?”

Thorin nodded, “Clearly we are both attractive and trusted by her. That trust is deepening and I do believe soon we will be planning a, schedule, or, times alone with our Wife to increase her chances.”

Thranduil nodded, then eyed the Dwarf steadily through an inhale, “My kin, we have customs, is there a risk of conception already?”

Thorin shook his head, “No.”

“It was the sealing of your bond then?”

Thorin nodded, “And an earning of her trust.” After wetting his lips his brows furrowed to ask as Thranduil’s chin tilted slightly in curiosity, “Did she ask permission to touch you? Even for a hug?”

Thranduil nodded, “Yes.” Thranduil started unbuttoning his outer robe, “I, it wasn’t really a game, but I, guided her through it.” Thorin nodded holding back his tension as best he could, “I started with my arms. Kept it above the waist, except for my feet.” Thorin raised a brow watching Thranduil stand and take his robe to his closet, “It made her laugh after she tensed at what was left on me. Then we got called away.” Thranduil walked into his closet then returned without his boots or crown with a soft sigh pulling his under shirt from under his waist band. “I will remember your tip. Anything else?”

“There was a pause when reciprocation popped in her mind. But that was handled.” In a glance at the door behind him Thorin added, “I’ll let you rest. Tiger is in her bed, I have to go see what my Cousin wanted.” He glanced at the Elf King eyeing your door and smirked, “Go curl around her. She was wondering where you were.” He nodded his head again and left the now smiling Elf King who turned to claim the tulip he had picked for you and entered your room. The smile on his face grew spotting your wearing one of his gifted nightgowns as he climbed onto the bed to sit at your side.

The shifting of the bed opened your eyes bringing a sleepy smile as he offered his tulip asking, “Forgive me?”

You brushed down the covers inviting him to snuggle with you as you mumbled back, “You look tired.” Leaving your tulip on the nightstand he slid under the covers and held you in his arms to claim as much sleep as possible after accepting your kiss.

Pt 6

#Thorin x Reader x Thranduil #Hobbit #lotr #HP Crossover

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etherealblasphemy · 6 years

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Lonely Planet Blue

Virgil is a soft pillow baby™ and I will fight anyone who disagrees

TW: self-deprecating thoughts, mentioned/referenced/implied death, panic attacks, mentioned/implied war

Vae hadn’t returned for two months. Every night, he snuck up to the bell tower and would peer out from the little window where, at one point in time, townspeople from below could catch a glimpse of the now absent bell. It had likely been melted down for ammunitions.

It was a night like any other. Virgil sat, back pressed against one of the corners of the little tower, his eyelids beginning to flutter close. He shook himself awake, his hazy brown eyes refocusing on the barren wasteland dotted with ruins holding all too painful memories. Silently, he cursed his best and only friend as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes, feeling the bags underneath them that were becoming more prominent as the days went by.

He liked the midnight sky. It calmed his anxiety that Vae was likely a dead man or a deserter. Tonight, the heavens dripped neon purple and raven black as the stars blinked at him, almost mocking him. His heart was in his throat as he stood unofficial sentry, wishing his friend would come home already so he could ask her where she’d gone and what adventures- because it wasn’t Vae if it wasn’t an adventure- she’d had.

He hugged his knees close to him, zipping his hoodie up to try and keep himself warm in the chilly night. A breeze ripped through the little tower, sending Virgil’s hair flying every which way. He grumbled as he patted it down, desperate to tame it so if on the off chance Halo came upstairs after fitful sleep, she wouldn’t tease him for looking like a girl with his shoulder-length hair, the tips dyed lavender.

As he finally got his hair under control, he glanced outside and nearly choked on his breath. Someone was standing in the distance, holding a glowing lantern. They were still as a statue, but Virgil didn’t care. He leapt off the ground, practically throwing himself down the rickety stairs as he raced to the bottom of the bell tower. He threw open the rotting wooden door as he reached ground level, stumbling over his feet as he ran down the cobblestone streets littered with pebbles and black snow.

At ground level, it was much harder to see the figure in the distance, but through the narrow alley between to buildings that Virgil had seen collapse in on themselves with his own eyes as the families inside screamed for help, he could spy the willowy figure that stood nearly invisible against the dark horizon of the night.

His heart pounded with exhilaration as he felt his lungs beginning to sting, his throat growing scratchy and dry. Vae was back, Vae was back, Vae was back... He felt a grin spread across his face. His best friend was home. Finally, he wouldn’t be alone.

Slowing down, he bent over, panting heavily. He’d never done much exercise, despite running from himself his entire life. His eyes were brimming with tears of joy and exhaustion, blurring his vision as he looked to see his vision was so poor from the salty liquid in his eyes that he saw three figures instead of one.

He began walking, too tired to run again, wiping the tears as he called Vae’s name. Upon looking up again at the horizon, Virgil made out the outlines of three people. Not one. Three.

What? Did Vae come back with someone? he wondered as he approached the people, apprehension taking root in his gut. Millions of possibilities flew through his mind. They’re refugees. They killed Vae. It’s Marco, Kay, and Farhana back from their mission. Vae met merchants or soldiers or something or- his heart stopped. He could clearly see the people now.

None of them were Vae.

Thousands of emotions flooded through him, grief being the first after the searing feeling of hope being crushed and falling to the desolate, cold ground. Virgil sank to his knees, tears of despair spilling over his eyes this time around. His heart beat rapidly, ready to tear its way through his body and escape the cage of ribs inside him. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening? Why couldn’t he get a happy ending for once in his miserable life? His breath came in shallow gasps and he mentally cursed. He was having a panic attack.

His limbs trembled as another gust of wind blew, dust and other particles hitting his face harshly. He could feel his heart racing at the same pace of his thoughts, which was firmly convinced that Vae had met some terrible fate at the hands of terrible people. He let out a sob that resembled his best friend’s name, his head hitting the hard ground as he collapsed over his knees, pounding on the cruel earth that likely covered his friend in eternal sleep.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and screamed, throwing his head back to see who it was and falling back painfully on his behind. He saw a stoic man staring him down, tiny lights flickering behind his grey eyes. He wore a double-breasted suit ensemble with a dark blue and black color scheme, tiny navy pinstripes running up and down his tight trousers which were crammed into brown dress boots. A bolo tie wrapped around his neck, transparent beads decorating the aiguillettes. He held a lantern burning brightly in the middle of the night, blinding Virgil as he tried to calm himself down. In the firelight, he made out the shadowy faces of the two strangers behind him.

The first thing he noticed about the pretty-boy blonde was the flower crown he wore. Lilacs the color of a sunset, roses the color of a china doll’s dainty painted blush, and teal chrysanthemums decorated his head, slightly glowing with their respective pastel colors. His bright blue eyes observed Virgil curiously, his head slightly tilted and his lips pursed with worry. Besides the flower crown, the boy was dressed elegantly, as though he was trying to convince everyone he really was a prince of some sort. He wore a copper-colored ascot tie tucked neatly into a white mandarin collar shirt. He wore red breeches and a pair of dramatic, buckled, knee-length wedge boots the color of lavender flowers accented with gold chains, giving a bit more rounded appearance to the prince wanna-be. Over his clothing, he wore some sort of jacket trailing to his knees, splatters of gold giving the otherwise white fabric the look of an ombre. A red sash attached to a little bag was slung across his body. Virgil also spotted a dark blue necklace hiding underneath his shirt, the chain just barely visible in the night. Lighting up the air around him were soft butterfly wings glowing cotton candy pink, their tips white as icing.

The one beside him also watched with concern. His baby blue eyes, similar in color to the boy with the flower crown, narrowed as he watched Virgil gasp for breath, scared out of his mind. This one was decked with a pair of antlers that looked like crystal dripping soft pastel colors that reminded Virgil so much of his lost friend. His wispy cinnamon and dark toffee hair fell into his eyes as he pushed it back away from his face, pulling out a silver hair clip from somewhere and forcing his hair to comply. For a moment, Virgil compared him to the likes of Rin Okumura from Blue Exorcist before he remembered he was not supposed to be interested in little kids’ stuff like that. Instead of beginning another inner war, he focused of the eccentric clothing of the antlered man. He wore a bright blue waistcoat patterned with lace shaped like interlocking roses, tiny silver chains keeping it wrapped around him. Underneath, he wore a plain white shirt with small brown sleeve garters. He also wore beige breeches and black knee-length boots with bright yellow buckles. Virgil noticed a pair of black-rimmed circle glasses tucked into the breast pocket of his waistcoat.

Virgil choked out another sob, tears running down his cheeks, ruining the black eye-shadow he always wore. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision the first time he put it on. Vae had been gone for three days back then, and he was trying to repel his loneliness by finally completing the dare Vae had given him when they were just teens, laughing beside a campfire, the thought of war and destruction far in the back of their minds. Vae had returned later that week, amused at Virgil’s new look, but now that she had truly disappeared, Virgil couldn’t keep from wearing the eye-shadow beneath his eyes, as if it were the only thing that he had left to remember her by.

The antlered one moved suddenly, throwing his arms around him and squeezing tightly. Virgil shrieked, trying to push the man away from him with his gangly arms. Instead, the man hugged him tighter. He patted him on the back with gentle hands. Virgil froze, unsure what to do. Virgil felt himself begin to relax in the man’s grasp, though his pulse was still skyrocketing.

“W-what are you doing?” he managed to force out of his mouth. “Who are you all?” Much quieter, he added, “Where’s Vae?” The others seemed to notice the first two inquiries. At long last, the hugger pulled away.

He spoke in an unfamiliar language, melodic words bouncing off his tongue as he rambled phrases foreign to the scared boy. The man with steely gray eyes stepped forward, muttering to the antlered man, who glanced at Virgil and flushed.

“I apologize,” the man with cold eyes said. “My companion forgot you do not speak our tongue. You speak a language known as English, correct?” Virgil nodded, dumbfounded. “My name is L.O.G.I.C., and these are my companions, Patton-” he gestured to the antlered man, “-and Roman,” he gestured to the prince, who waved briskly. “I know this is sudden, but you must come with us.”

Virgil gaped at the three strangers. He pushed himself off the ground, unable to bare the feeling of being watched like a pathetic wimp. He mumbled incoherent words, still trying to process everything. “You’re… you guys are aliens?” he breathed, focusing on their more… supernatural body parts. L.O.G.I.C. blinked, apparently confused.

“Well, not exactly. By alien, do you mean the undocumented immigrant kind or the beings from another planet kind?”

“Of course the beings from another planet kind! I’d never use such a mean word to describe people who could easily be my friends!” Virgil cried defiantly. His eyes widened as his brain reminded him not to blurt anything, and his shrunk back, clutching the patch-covered sleeves of his hoodie.

L.O.G.I.C reached out a hand, but drew back. “To be more specific, Patton is a shapeshifter known as a Drisine. Roman is a being who appears with one physical aspect of another creature, and can turn into that creature. He also happens to be an exiled prince, though from experience I suggest you don’t bring that up when speaking to him.”

“W-what about you?” Virgil asked. He would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued by now.

L.O.G.I.C. smiled coldly, what Virgil assumed was the only mode his smile was set to. “I am an artificial intelligence unit set inside a capsule built to resemble that of my creator.” Virgil couldn’t process it. Mere moments ago, he had believed his best friend was coming home. And now these strangers who claimed to be beings from faraway planets had asked him to come with them. It was something straight out of a movie.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, his eyes burning into the robot’s. “Why me?” His lifted his chin, mimicking the rebel teens in the propaganda movies he’d come to know by heart. “What makes me so important?” He bit his harshly, shoving his hands deep into the thralls of the hoodie’s pockets. He couldn’t seem weak. They wouldn’t want him then, no matter why they wanted him now.

L.O.G.I.C.’s eyes narrowed and Virgil steeled himself, putting up the mask he always wore. After a long, worry-filled pause, L.O.G.I.C. finally responded. “According to my fellow companions, they heard a rather cryptic prophecy that they, along with two others who fit our descriptions, will defeat an age-old evil.” The robot added on in a lower tone, “We seem to be in the same boat. These two dragged me into their ship after breaking into a lab, and I’ve been travelling with them ever since.” Virgil almost chuckled at the sight of the two smaller men dragging this no-nonsense robot onto a stereotypical UFO ship.

He shook his head, running his hand through his head. “What the hell…” he whispered, his eyes glancing across the landscape slowly brightening as time approached dawn. “Why… why me, though? Why not literally any other one of my friends holed up back in town?” he asked, jutting his thumb behind him to the ruins. “They’re the ones leading a rebellion. Me? All I can do is hide in the bell tower and wait for my friend to come home…” His voice cracked, small tears in his eyes. He blinked, looking down at the dirt as rubbed the tears away. Someone tackled him in a tight hug, making him gasp. “W-what?!” he stuttered, disliking the contact. He looked to see it was the one L.O.G.I.C. had called “Patton.”

Patton said something, pulling away. “Patton says he hopes you feel happier soon,” the robot told him. Patton continued to talk in the strange tongue, his eyes shimmering in the fire of the robot’s lantern. Meanwhile, the robot continued to translate for the bewildered teen. “To sum up what he’s saying, most of which being what you humans call ‘fluff’, he’s asking you to come with us because it does not look like you enjoy the life you are currently living. You mentioned a person named Vae when you were approaching us, might I ask who this is?”

Virgil snarled. “She’s my friend, dummy…” He ripped his body out of Patton’s grip, almost shoving the man away. “I’m waiting for her…” L.O.G.I.C. frowned. He mumbled something under his breath, though Virgil only caught the words “pesky emotions.” “So I can’t go with you,” he said, shaking his head and taking a step back. “I mean, I don’t even know you guys, and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and… and…” He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t feel. The world around his was spinning as he fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

He could vaguely sense someone running to him, shaking his shoulders slightly and saying something. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Someone else was holding his hands, running their thumbs over his knuckles. He focused on that feeling, just that feeling, the feeling of warm skin meeting his, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, somebody found him worthy. He hadn’t felt it since Vae disappeared.

Someone was singing. He expanded his hazy focus from just the thumbs running across his knuckles to the voice that was so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. “Masae ioána tu an luüa, lavēhsea, agus tea tu rinda saänud ta. Waesa eayona rinda tä oppai-uoye-sinderūe, agus tu agus e taeyunge faero laehkona…” His breath slowed down, the words permeating his frantic mind like a sun ray bursting through a sky full of thunderclouds. His eyes wandered up to meet blue ones. He got lost in those sky blue eyes that glittered like crystals in the night. They were warm, seeming to smile, and reminded him of a clear summer day, nostalgic of a time when he and Vae were children and they hadn’t learned to be scared. He recalled running through a field of tall reeds, Vae on his tail, playing tag as they run through the small town they grew up in.

The memory turned sour. Time jumped years, to when he was a young boy. He could clearly picture the face of his mother, smiling sweetly as she waved goodbye to her school-bound son. He came home that day to find his entire neighborhood gone, leaving just crumbled, charred ruins and trauma that wove falsehoods into his mind to make him forget the sight of his mother’s charred body, clinging to a small photograph of her son who no longer smiled.

He choked out another sob, the tears burning his face with shame and despair and everything gone to shit. The voice grew stronger, the thumbs becoming hands that grasped his own, holding them in a gentle yet firm grip. Hands became arms that pulled him into a strong embrace, not as familiar one Patton had given him, yet still warm and calming. He looked into those eyes, searching for worth, for love, for anything to anchor him to reality.

The person pulled him into his grasp, and he fell forward into their chest, his hands grasping silken fabric that had gone threadbare in some places. He buried his face into their warm body, staining their clothes with his tears. They smelled like smoke from campfires, like saltwater and seashells, like velvet in a thrift store.

“Sasha tu haao meh,” they whispered, combing their soft fingers through his mousy hair. He listened to the sound of their heartbeat, his vision finally clearing as the tears began to dry. Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look at whoever it was who held him in their arms like he was their whole world. Instead, he snuggled closer to them, his ratty hoodie hardly protecting him from the bitter night.

The person gently grasped his chin between their forefinger and thumb and coaxed him to look up. Virgil tired his best to keep his gaze averted, feeling the shame beginning to crawl up his spine, but the person moved into his eyesight.

It was Roman.

That alone was enough to send Virgil back into hysterical whimpering, but seeming to sense Virgil’s apprehension, Roman pulled him even closer, hugging him. “Sasha tu haao meh, lavehsea,” he repeated. Virgil’s gaze wavered, but Roman held it, staring into his eyes- and perhaps, his soul.

Something turned on within Virgil, deep down in his heart where he stowed all precious things. He didn’t seem to be disgusted by Virgil’s weakness. He didn’t seem to think Virgil was only worth keeping around for standing guard. No. He seemed to… like Virgil. As though he meant something to the pretty boy with butterfly wings the color of cotton-candy.

He sniffed, wiping the tears in his eyes away. He tried smiling. Roman smiled brightly at him, and Virgil realized what exactly his heart was screaming at him: Go with him. Go with them. Vae’s not coming back. They’re you’re new family, whether you like it or not. Go with him. Go.

His eyes met the robot’s. “Forgive me for not offering any condolences. I have no desire to involve myself with complex emotions such as yours and Roman and Patton’s,” he stated, offering a hand to Virgil. He stared at it for a moment before taking it and standing up, wiping away more tears. Roman got up, too, as Patton slung a arm around his shoulder.

“Rende hamun tu!” Patton said, causing Roman to snort and L.O.G.I.C. to crack a smile.

“He said you’re his son now,” the robot translated. Virgil blanched, his face flushing shamefully. “You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to…” L.O.G.I.C. said softly, tilting his head to the side.

To say he was conflicted would be an understatement. Heartstrings were being tugged at, old feelings of yearning to go on adventures being dug up and thrown about like confetti. Yet, he couldn’t leave. ...Could he? Could he leave Vae for dead, leave behind his home for the past two decades of his life, leave behind all he had left to remember of when the world was at one another’s throats, desperate to survive in a war-torn insanity? He felt his hands start shaking. He couldn’t leave. Vae was still out there. Until they found her body, she couldn’t be dead. But the little voice in his head told him different, told him to come to his senses and stop clinging like a child to all he held dear. He had nothing left here. Nobody left who loved him, no place that he could call home, no reason why he should stay.

He made his decision.

“Promise you won’t leave me behind,” he demanded, his fists clenching and shoulders tensing. L.O.G.I.C. seemed taken aback, but composed himself quickly.

“Of course,” he told Virgil softly, slightly confused at the request. “We would never leave you behind…” He trailed off, probably realizing that Virgil hadn’t given up his name yet. He wasn’t ready, though.

“Just... call me Anxiety. It’s an old nickname of mine,” he offered. L.O.G.I.C. blinked.

“Very well, Anxiety. I am to assume you have chosen to come with us?” Virgil nodded, biting his lip. He was really doing this… “Come along, then, the Sanders Yersinia is just a little ways away.” The travelers turned away from him, beginning to head back the way they came.

Virgil looked behind him. Looked at the town made of ruins and black snow and hate and fear and despair. Looked at the past that refused to leave him alone. He saw a glimpse of the base and the bell tower, where a tiny flicker of light continued to glow. He swallowed, turning around and joining his new companions. He was leaving this lonely planet, this heartbroken world, this desolate land, this disconsolate war. He wasn’t going to come back.

God, he hoped he was making the right decision.

I searched up way too many fashion terms to write this. Oh well.

Thank you for you kind words (*i feel so much validation* :DDDDD)! I really appreciate each and every one of them.

So I think all that’s left to get this story actually started is Cal joining the crew. Then we get the gOoD sHiT :)

Here’s the translation for what Roman was saying:

“Masae ioána tu an luüa, lavēhsea, agus tea tu rinda saänud ta. Waesa eayona rinda tä oppai-uoye-sinderūe, agus tu agus e taeyunge faero laehkona...”: I’ll sing you a sunset, darling, and gather you into my arms. Just let me look into your silver-lining-eyes, and you and I will dance across the sky.

“Sasha tu haao meh,” and “Sasha tu haao meh, lavehsea,”: You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, darling.

TAG LIST WOOT WOOT: (if you wanna be added/removed, hit me up :3)

@asofterfan

@alix-the-skeleton

@v-blue-writer

@hufflepuffsscrewdriver

@sanderssidesstuff

#Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides au #Au #my AU #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Calrex the Pirate #Sci-fi Au #VIRGIL IS A SOFT PILLOW BABY #Dystopia Earth AU #Leaving Home

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networkingdefinition · 5 years

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Dragonfly Quotes

Official Website: Dragonfly Quotes

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• And in time it will be as though men had never come to this perfect corner of the world-never called it paradise on earth, never despoiled it with their dream factories; and in the golden hush of the afternoon all that will be heard will be the flittering of dragonflies, and the murmur of hummingbirds as they pass from bower to bower, looking for a place to sup sweetness. – Clive Barker • Anyone can buy a car or a night on the town. Most of us shell our days like peanuts. One in a thousand can look at the world with amazement. I don’t mean gawking at the Chrysler Building. I’m talking about the wing of a dragonfly. The tale of the shoeshine. Walking through an unsullied hour with an unsullied heart – Amor Towles • As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame – Gerard Manley Hopkins

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Of blue butterflies, and dragonfly wings. Moonlight and sunbeams, raiments so fine. Silver and gold, for baby of mine. Go to sleep, baby. Sister will tell, of wolves and of lambs, and demons who fell.-Pierce’s Lullaby Kim Harrison (Black Magic Sanction) – Kim Harrison • He was becoming unstuck, he was sure of that – his bones were no longer wrapped in flesh but in clouds of dust, in hummingbirds, dragonflies, and luminous moths – but so perfect was his equilibrium that he felt no fear. He was vast, he was many, he was dynamic, he was eternal. – Tom Robbins • I got to keep a clip for my hair. It had a pretty little dragonfly on it and I got to keep it – Mackenzie Foy • I need to capture my sprite with trembling hands. Except I could crush her. Wonder how many small things of beauty – flowers, seashells, dragonflies – have met such a demise. Wonder how much fragile love has collapsed beneath the weight of confession. – Ellen Hopkins • If you are old and you wish to be young again, if only for a moment, try and identify a dragonfly. – Simon Barnes • I’ll be looking for you, Will, every moment, every single moment. And when we do find each other again, we’ll cling together so tight that nothing and no one’ll ever tear us apart. Every atom of me and every atom of you… We’ll live in birds and flowers and dragonflies and pine trees and in clouds and in those little specks of light you see floating in sunbeams… And when they use our atoms to make new lives, they wont’ just be able to take one, they’ll have to take two, one of you and one of me, we’ll be joined so tight. – Philip Pullman • It’s very far away/It takes about a half a day to get there/ If we travel by-dragonfly. – Jimi Hendrix • Perhaps everything lies in knowing what words to speak, what actions to perform, and in what order and rhythm; or else someone’s gaze, answer, gesture is enough; it is enough for someone to do something for the sheer pleasure of doing it, and for his pleasure to become the pleasure of others: at that moment, all spaces change, all heights, distances; the city is transfigured, becomes crystalline, transparent as a dragonfly. – Italo Calvino • Question four: What book would you give to every child? Answer: I wouldn’t give them a book. Books are part of the problem: this strange belief that a tree has nothing to say until it is murdered, its flesh pulped, and then (human) people stain this flesh with words. I would take children outside and put them face to face with chipmunks, dragonflies, tadpoles, hummingbirds, stones, rivers, trees, crawdads. That said, if you’re going to force me to give them a book, it would be The Wind In The Willows, which I hope would remind them to go outside. – Derrick Jensen • Reflected in the dragonfly’s eye — mountains. – Kobayashi Issa • Sitting on the floor of a room in Japan, looking out on a small garden with flowers blooming and dragonflies hovering in space, I suddenly felt as if I had been too long above my boots. – Mark Tobey • Smile / to see the lake / lay / the still sky / And / out for an easy / make / the dragonfly. – Lorine Niedecker • So, that was Nature’s way. The mosquito felt pain and panic but the dragonfly knew nothing of cruelty. Humans would call it evil, the big dragonfly destroying the mosquito and ignoring the little insects suffering. Yet humans hated mosquitoes too, calling them vicious and bloodthirsty. All these words, words like ‘evil’ and ‘vicious’, they meant nothing to Nature. Yes, evil was a human invention. – John Marsden • Sophia and Grandmother sat down by the shore to discuss the matter further. It was a pretty day, and the sea was running a long, windless swell. It was on days just like this–dog days–that boats went sailing off all by themselves. Large, alien objects made their way in from sea, certain things sank and others rose, milk soured, and dragonflies danced in desperation. Lizards were not afraid. When the moon came up, red spiders mated on uninhabited skerries, where the rock became an unbroken carpet of tiny, ecstatic spiders. – Tove Jansson • The beauteous dragonfly’s dancing By the waves of the rivulet glancing; She dances here and she dances there, The glimmering, glittering flutterer fair. Full many a beetle with loud applause Admires her dress of azure gauze, Admires her body’s bright splendour, And also her figure so slender… – Heinrich Heine • The girls chirped and chatted like uncaged warblers. They were delirious with joy… Intoxications of life’s morning! Enchanted years! The wing of a dragonfly trembles! Oh, reader, whoever you may be, do you have such memories? Have you walked in the underbrush, pushing aside branches for the charming head behind you? Have you slid laughing, down some slope wet with rain, with the woman you loved? – Victor Hugo • The point of the dragonfly’s terrible lip, the giant water bug, birdsong, or the beautiful dazzle and flash of sunlighted minnows,is not that it all fits together like clockwork–for it doesn’tbut that it all flows so freely wild, like the creek, that it all surges in such a free, finged tangle. Freedom is the world’s water and weather, the world’s nourishment freely given, its soil and sap: and the creator loves pizzazz. – Annie Dillard • Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky. – Janet Fitch • This dragonfly came up to me. He was hovering right in front of my face, and I was really examining him, thinking, How does he see me? I became enlightened. – Ziggy Marley • Time is for dragonflies and angels. The former live too little and the latter live too long. – James Thurber • Twisting through the thorn-thick underbrush, scratched and exhausted, one turns suddenly to find an unexpected waterfall, not half a mile from the nearest road, a spot so hard to reach that no one comes a hiding place, a shrine for dragonflies and nesting jays, a sign that there is still one piece of property that won’t be owned. – Dana Gioia • Unless you are here: this garden refuses to exist. Pink dragonflies fall from the air and become scorpions scratching blood out of rocks. The rainbows that dangle upon this mist: shatter. Like the smile of a child separated from his mother’s milk for the very first time. –from poem Blood and Blossoms – Aberjhani • Who would deduce the dragonfly from the larva, the iris from the bud, the lawyer from the infant? …We are all shape-shifters and magical reinventors. Life is really a plural noun, a caravan of selves. – Diane Ackerman • Whoever the kid had been, whoever had the grand attitude, has finally heeded the admonishment of parents, teachers, governments, religions, and the law: “You just change your attitude now please, young man.” This transformation in kids – from flashing dragonflies, so to say, to sticky water-surface worms slowly slipping downstream – is noticed with pride by society and with mortification by God, which is a fantastic way of saying I don’t like to see kids throw away their truth just because it isn’t worth a dime in the open market. – William Saroyan • Without constraint, without any form of mental compulsion, the act of belief becomes the freest possible projection of what resides in our hearts. Like the poet’s image of a church bell that reveals its latent music only when struck, or a dragonfly that flames forth its beauty only in flight, so does the content of a human heart lie buried until action calls it forth. The greatest act of self-revelation occurs when we choose what we will believe, in that space of freedom that exists between knowing that a thing is and knowing that a thing is not. – Terryl L. Givens • Yesterday a child came out to wonder. Caught a dragonfly inside a jar. Fearful when the sky was full of thunder. And tearful at the falling of a star – Joni Mitchell

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

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Dragonfly Quotes

Official Website: Dragonfly Quotes

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