#like it's her brow area that is just... tricky...
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The Blood of the Covenant
Chapter One: First Steps (Toward White-Faced Cliffs)
Summary: Ominis Gaunt makes his very first friends. || Masterlist
Warnings: None
Song: We Are Gonna Be Friends - Carried Away
A/N: Please tell me what you think. This is my first real contribution to this fandom and I'm unreasonably nervous about it.
He felt a certain fondness looking back on that day. Sitting in King’s Cross Station, assaulted by unfamiliar and frightening sensations. It was scary at the time, but he’d only been eleven then. The hulking monster of soot, smoke, and steel lurched out of the station, and with it, he was finally, finally free.
Even though, at the time, he hadn’t quite figured out that he was trapped to begin with.
That would come with time. And pain. But he didn’t know that quite yet.
And to be fair, he wasn't entirely free. His mother and father would scarcely let him flee so effortlessly from their clutches. But for the first time in his life, he had a real choice - many real choices, in fact. Surely, if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't have to be the villain. He wasn’t destined to become his older brother or his father. He could be the hero, he was sure of it. At eleven years old, he was determined. He would write his own story - prove mother and father and ‘Volo wrong. He would just have to be brave.
That was the tricky part.
Bravery wasn't particularly his forte.
Well, he would just have to work on that. After all, how hard could it be? Without mother and father around to punish him, or ‘Volo over his shoulder to ensure they would, the boy was sure that bravery could be forged easily enough. And Hogwarts, of course, would be the perfect place to build up a little courage.
Perhaps he could start with what Aunt Noctua always said: Making some friends.
The only problem there was that… well he'd never really had a friend before. The closest he'd ever come to a playmate were the family house elves and somehow, he didn't think that magical enslavement was quite what his Aunt had in mind.
" How does one go about making a friend ?" The boy wondered with a frown.
A soft click jarred him from his reverie, and the boy tilted his head toward the door of his little seating area, listening to the voices he'd previously been ignoring.
"Well, I don't know… push it a little harder?" One of the voices, likely a girl's though it was hard for him to distinguish, said.
"I'm pushing on it as hard as I can." The second speaker sounded more like a boy, at least in temperament.
"Then why isn't it opening?"
"Perhaps it's jammed?" The second voice suggested. This was followed by an indignant huff from the first.
"But everywhere else is full!" The girl complained. "Try it again, Sebastian."
"Oh, fine!" The boy - Sebastian, evidently - exclaimed. "But if I break my shoulder, you'll owe me a new one."
The boy inside the compartment raised a brow and stood. Reaching out, he felt around for the door's handle before twisting and easily sliding it open.
"It helps to unfasten the latch," He hummed, rather amused. Then, gesturing inside the compartment, he smirked. "In need of a seat?"
"Yes, please!" The girl chirped. He quickly stepped to the side as she slipped past him. Sebastian followed, though not without a low grumble.
"I would have gotten that eventually," He said. The rustle of fabric that followed usually indicated that a speaker had crossed their arms and the frown in his voice wasn't hard to detect.
"Of course you would."
Sebastian huffed. "As if you didn't do the same thing your first time riding a train."
"I didn't." The boy shrugged, chuckling. Sebastian opened his mouth to contend that only to be met with a quick jab in the ribs from his companion.
"Sebastian!" She chastened. "Don't be rude!"
"Right. Sorry."
"Apologies on behalf of my brother," The girl said, an eye-roll quite evident in her tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Anne Sallow, and he's Sebastian."
The boy nodded. "Pleasure to meet you both," He replied.
"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" Sebastian wondered. Were he an adult, likely there would have been a hint of displeasure in the boy's tone, but seeing as he was merely eleven, the only undertones in his words were those of curiosity.
The boy froze. If he shared his name, the likelihood that these two would desire to befriend him would either drop or rise significantly. (The latter for all the wrong reasons, of course.) However, he could hardly go about befriending anyone should he withhold his name from the entire school.
"I'm Ominis." He took a deep breath, grimacing as he readied himself for the backlash (or quite the opposite) to come. "Ominis… Gaunt ."
There was silence.
“Oh…” That was Sebastian.
"I've… heard things about that family," Anne's voice began softly. Not at all an odd thing to say really. Because everyone who was someone had heard something about the Gaunts. Looking back on it, he could hear it in her, just as he had so many others.
The fear. The disgust.
And beneath it all, there was that reluctant awe. (In his usual circles - his parent's circles - that awe was less reluctant and more forced. ) As though he were some sort of prince, heir to a vile, imaginary crown.
Oh, how he grew to hate it.
Though he was only eleven at the time and oh-so-innocent, Ominis knew enough. He knew enough to recognize that his family was awful rude and stuffy and old fashioned. He just didn’t know how bad it really was. Not at the time. His name - his bloodline - was his crown, revered by all, and coveted by those who didn't have the sense to fear it. The Gaunt legacy was one of darkness and hate - it was not something to be exalted.
Why could people not acknowledge them for what they were? Not royalty, but-
"Pure-blood maniacs - the lot of 'em. That's what my uncle says," Sebastian cut in, foregoing his sister's more polite tone. There was no awe in his voice. Ominis caught only a steadfast surety. "I never understood why the Prophet always talks about your folks like they're some kind of royalty, but that whole clan sounds more like a bunch of spoiled brats to me. What say you, Ominis?"
The blunt honesty caught him off guard. Ominis blinked.
You see, despite having been born blind, (or perhaps because of it) Ominis Gaunt was quite adept at reading people. He could hear the difference between a smile and a sneer, even when one masked the other. He could scent out a lie from across a room, even in a setting steeped with deceit. He could taste a challenge before it crawled its way between a speaker's lips, not unlike a snake that tastes its prey from deep within its hole - never giving a warning before it strikes. (An apt metaphor, though Ominis would never take pride in it.)
The boy was so used to deception - had lived his entire eleven years of life by its principles. Navigating the cloak-and-dagger conversations of pure-blood high society was a skill sewn into his very essence. Yet, none of his parents' instructions on navigating polite conversation could have prepared him for the metaphorical bludger that was Sebastian Sallow.
His words alone painted for Ominis a perfect impression of his entire personality.
Thus Ominis was quite sure that the child before him was unlike anyone he had ever met. This boy had never known wealth nor privilege as he had. (Ominis could smell the dirt on the clothes he and his sister wore.) There were no schemes nor hidden agendas, it seemed. No, he simply didn't have the patience for such things. He was purely upfront - a trait Ominis was far from used to. Sebastian wasn't going to play nice for the sake of propriety.
And truthfully, Ominis was quite bored with propriety. Perhaps that was why he didn’t lash out in his family’s defense. Or perhaps it was because ‘Volo had pushed him down the stairs earlier that day. He wasn’t sure. Either way, that was the beginning. That was how the wool over his eyes began to unravel, so to speak. But again. He didn’t know that yet. For now, as an eleven-year-old who was quite annoyed with his brother would, he just found it all rather funny.
"Ugh! ‘Bash!" Anne hissed, though the admonition died on her lips when Ominis cracked a smile.
"Oh, I quite agree," He said with a smirk. "You can't imagine the family reunions."
Oh , if his parents heard him say that…
Rather, only Sebastian and Anne did. They didn't seem particularly affronted. In fact, a broad grin stretched into Sebastian's next words.
"I think the three of us are going to be great friends, Ominis."
And Ominis smiled then. They had extended their friendship first, and he hadn't even needed to do anything! He'd thought he would have at least had to buy them off, but no! They didn't ask a knut of him. What a spectacular feeling that was!
He could be normal, like Auntie Noctua always said. He could make friends. He could do this .
He would prove his siblings and his parents wrong, just like Aunt Noctua always said he could.
"Thank you, I look forward to it," He said, with a slight smile. "So, this is your first year at Hogwarts as well, I presume?"
"Yes, it is!" Anne answered readily, practically buzzing with excitement.
"I see." He nodded. "Would the two of you happen to be twins then?"
"Indeed we are," Sebastian hummed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Can't you tell?"
Ominis frowned and retreated slightly. "As a matter of fact, I-I can't," He said.
"Why's that?" The boy wondered, genuinely confused. His sister sighed.
"Because he's blind , Sebastian," She hissed under her breath.
"Oh… Wait, really?"
Ominis raised a brow. "Yes?"
"So what's that like?" He wondered, leaning forward in his seat. "What color is everything for you? Is it black or white?"
Anne groaned.
"I wouldn't know…" Ominis answered slowly. Yet a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, despite himself. "I was born this way. What's your excuse?"
Most questions he received about his blindness were demeaning in some way or another. He was used to them by now. However, for once, he didn't mind because this one was entirely genuine… if only in the sense that not a single ounce of thought had been put into it.
"He doesn't have one, I'm afraid." Anne deadpanned. "He's just an idiot."
Sebastian's robes rustled as he drew back, offended. "What are you two getting at? I just ask-" He paused. "Oh."
It would seem that Sebastian's mouth ran a bit faster than his head. There was honesty in that. Ominis found himself appreciating it.
"Merlin's beard, Sebastian." Anne sighed, shaking her head. She shifted to address Ominis. "Believe it or not, my brother's got the brain of a Ravenclaw."
"Pity he doesn't use it," Ominis hummed, teasingly.
The girl giggled. "That's what I've been saying for years."
"Oh yes, how clever of you, Anne. Let's all just applaud your stunning originality," Sebastian said flatly. Ominis could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You know, Ominis, I've always thought my sister more inclined to Gryffindor," He continued. "She reminds me of a lion quite often. Though, not so much in temperament as in looks. I mean, you're lucky you can't see because it's rather frightening - razor sharp claws, yellow teeth, and when she wakes up in the morning, she's got quite the impressive mane. She's also unreasonably loud!"
"Wha-" Anne gasped and a loud thump indicated that Sebastian was going to have an impressive bruise on his arm by the end of the day.
Ominis couldn't help but laugh. And, oddly enough, that laughter lasted for the duration of the train ride. He'd never before felt the urge to laugh quite like he did in the presence of the Sallow twins. Because… well he could . With no one around to chastise him, he could laugh all he wanted.
Something warm and entirely foreign stirred in his chest. Thus, on that very day, Ominis Gaunt experienced the sensations of both true freedom and kinship for the first time in his life and, like a Niffler, he welcomed it greedily, relishing it in the moment before it would inevitably be taken from him. After all, good things were always taken from him. He wasn't good enough to keep them. He hadn’t quite learned that lesson yet. But he would.
Rather sad that, but no one ever said this was a happy story.
By the time the train arrived in Hogsmeade Station, the twins were practically bouncing off the walls of that little compartment. Though, in hindsight, the mounds of candy Ominis bought for them to share certainly didn't help matters. He did it because he could. Because mother and father would have told him no. Because he had money and his parents never spent a Galleon on anyone else. Auntie Noctua said generosity is a good thing. So Ominis would be a generous little boy.
“Oh, Sebastian! Just look at it!” Anne squealed, her face plastered to the window. Her brother, in an attempt to remain composed and thus appear more mature than his sister, remained in his seat. He was equally excited, however, if his voice was anything to go on.
“We’ve passed by dozens of times. We practically live here! Why is today any different?” His feet drummed on the floor. Oh, he couldn’t wait.
“Because today we’re going inside !” Anne shook her brother vigorously and Ominis couldn't help but laugh.
“Look at it, Ominis!” She then implored him.
He didn’t hesitate a second.
“Oh, yes. Stunning. Positively mind boggling.”
“Isn’t it just?” She sighed. “I’m just so… wait.” She whipped around again and crossed her arms.
“HA!” Sebastian gave a rather loud and phony laugh. “Who’s the moonmind now?”
Anne kicked her brother before resting her hand on Ominis’s arm. He flinched, but only a little bit. He was proud of that. Thankfully, she didn’t touch his skin. That would have been far too much. He was only eleven, after all. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t normal for touch to be an awful thing. He hadn’t yet realized it wasn’t normal for parents to hit their little ones.
“I’m so sorry,” She said. “I truly didn’t mean to be so rude.”
Ominis just chuckled in response. “Don’t be. You’re not mean, Anne.”
The poor girl seemed so genuinely and deeply upset. It honestly floored him.
“No, no. I really will be more careful.”
“Don’t waste your breath,” He maintained. “It will happen again. And again… and again.”
He was, after all, quite used to much worse.
Then the train pulled to a stop. Ominis was a bit thrown in his seat, but otherwise alright. Sebastian jumped up like someone had just lit off a Wizzpopper in their compartment. He and his twin were bouncing on their feet.
“Are you ready, mate?” Sebastian prodded. Now, this made Ominis frown. He fleetingly reached into his robes to touch his wand. Still there.
“I… I think I’ll wait.” He said. Anne immediately frowned.
“Wait?” She sounded like she couldn’t possibly fathom what the word meant. “Merlin’s beard! Why would you possibly want to wait?”
He caught himself swaying a bit again and corrected.
“Less people.” He replied.
“Oh… I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. Then he giggled. “Dammit. I did it again.”
Anne hit him. For the fourth time. Ominis suspected she did that quite a lot.
“Sebastian!” She admonished. “Language! There is a lady present.”
“Shit. Where?” He gasped mockingly. “Ominis, have you lied to me?”
They were trying to make him feel better. It was working. He smiled.
“Oh, I hope not.”
“Damn. Don’t say that, mate. You got my hopes up.”
Anne died a little bit, smacking her palm against her forehead loud enough for Ominis to flinch again. He opted to change the subject before she did herself (or her brother) any more damage.
“Say, if the two of you live in this valley - as I assume you must - why take the train?” He wondered.
“You talk so fancy,” Anne said. Not an actual answer to his question and she sounded rather sad. He decided then and there that he didn’t like it when Anne Sallow sounded sad.
He’d hardly had time to frown before Sebastian spoke up.
“Mum and Dad were so excited about it,” He said. “They ate up any bit of news they could. They so desperately wanted us to be able to ride.” The boy laughed and then his voice fractured - and not because he was an eleven year old boy. “They set aside some money. Put it in their will. Uncle Solomon says its just this once.”
“Oh.” And really. What else could he say? “You’re… orphans?”
The thought of simply not having parents seemed so foreign to him. But then again… perhaps not.
Before her brother could say anything brash (and he was going to judging by his intake of breath) Anne huffed and placed her hands on her hips.
“That we are,” She said. “Come now. Looks like most everyone has cleared out.”
She took him and her brother by their sleeves and promptly dragged them from their compartment. Sebastian was rather stiff - his footsteps gave him away.
“You’re very brave, you know,” Ominis told the other boy under his breath. Sebastian froze.
“There are steps here, Ominis. Three of them. Be careful.” Anne informed him, remaining deliberately unresponsive to his comment.
“Yes, thank you.” He pulled out his wand and it pulsed a few times. It vibrated, seemingly happy to be put to work after hours in his pocket. There were indeed three steps. Ominis liked Anne quite a bit. Thoughtful she was. Loud, but in a good sort of way. An honest way. His wand liked her too. She descended the steps first and her brother, though he didn’t turn to face Ominis, he did speak. His voice was quiet in an awful sad sort of way.
“Brave… That’s not what people usually say,” He murmured.
Ominis cracked a little smile. Noctua always said that a stretch of the lips and a crinkle of the cheeks makes people more at ease.
“Well, I do like to be different.”
Sebastian huffed a laugh and helped Ominis down the steps. There was something warm about that. He was trying. They both were.
However it was Sebastian who ended up slipping off the last step.
Ominis and his new friends stood at the back of a herd of eleven-year-olds who began to walk almost as soon as the three of them got off the train. They quickly followed. At the head of the pack was a man who introduced himself as Mr. Moon - the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He inhaled quite a lot throughout his speech and Ominis found that rather annoying. Speech patterns aside, the groundskeeper led them down a rather steep gravel-covered path. It was still rather slick from the afternoon rain, which the young Gaunt did not appreciate in the slightest, but really that only made something amazing happen. Every time he slipped (which was only thrice, mind you) Sebastian would catch him.
Ominis really didn’t need him to. He didn’t need help . In fact, he never really even lost his footing - just slipped a little. Yet, Sebastian was there. He helped, and not in a demeaning way. He didn’t say anything. Just helped. But that was enough and Ominis felt a little warm around him.
The next obstacle, however, was worse .
There were many things that Ominis Gaunt did not like. He was a particular person after all. But rather high on that list was a simple little thing called water . He didn’t like it. He didn’t like floating in it, he didn’t like being doused with it, and he most certainly despised the thought of drowning in it.
Now, most unfortunately, he was led by this groundskeeper onto a dock of all things and waiting for the little first years, were boats . Waves lapped against the shore and the little wooden contraptions bumped against the dock. Ominis did not want to be in a boat. All the other first years were climbing on in and the boats rowed themselves away from the dock soon after being filled. Or at least, he assumed as much, as the accursed things bobbed their way out of his wand’s range. For the record, his wand was a little curious about the water. After all, it had experienced so little aside from the dusty wand shop which had housed it for most of its inanimate life. It wanted to learn of water, but Ominis would not indulge such curiosity.
“Oh, how lovely!” Anne chirped. “Boats!”
“No.” Ominis said simply.
Sebastian frowned. “No?”
“No,” He said again. “I’ll not be getting in one of those things.”
“Doesn’t look like you have another option, mate,” Sebastian noted. “Thats the only way to get to the castle.”
He crossed his arms. “There are carriages.”
“Those carriages over there?” Anne referenced some point in the distance. “Good luck. They’re at least a hundred meters to our right and moving fast.”
Ominis hesitated.
No,” He said again. “I’ll wait right here.”
Now, he was fully aware that he sounded like a spoiled child. But really - Boats!
“Oh, come on. Its not that bad,” Sebastian tried to persuade him.
“Drowning at age eleven seems quite bad!” He exclaimed.
“Ominis! They’re leaving us behind!” Anne pleaded.
He huffed. “Then you two go on. I suppose I’ll not be receiving an education.”
“Not without you.”
The twins were then unusually quiet for a moment, and Ominis really should have seen it coming. But he would learn. One day he would learn.
He felt a pair of hands grab onto each of his arms, and with a strength that belied their size, the twins lifted him into the little dingy waiting just off the dock. Ominis protested vehemently but that changed nothing. As he was set down, the boat rocked dangerously from side to side. He cried out, latching onto the sides with a death grip. But now that he was in the boat, it wasn’t like he could get out.
“You two are going to get it for this!” He spat - an entirely empty threat, but he felt it needed to be said.
“Whatever you say, Ominis.” Sebastian climbed into the boat next and Ominis just about lost all that candy from earlier as the thing teetered and tossed. Then Anne boarded next and all he could really do was grumble.
“Come on… you too,” Anne said once settled.
Ominis frowned. ”Hm?” He hadn’t heard anyone standing behind their little trio - no breathing, no footsteps.
Yet, the boat rocked again and a pair of robes brushed over his leg. A tiny, quiet little voice apologized.
“And what’s your name?” Anne asked as the boat began to move. Ominis just groaned.
“I-Irene.” This student was clearly a girl. She sounded more terrified than he was. “My name is Irene.” And she had a funny little voice too - flat and throaty, scratched up like she’d been screaming all day.
Ignoring the oohs and ahhs of his companions, (the other girl didn’t make a peep) Ominis tried very hard not to think about anything at all as their little boat approached the castle. Certainly not how just one wrong move would have him flailing in icy liquid until his clothing dragged him down to the depths of the Black Lake. Yes. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about that.
When finally their boats bobbed into a harbor that was apparently underground according to Sebastian, Ominis finally let himself breathe. Which was a relief as he was beginning to get a bit lightheaded. Sebastian and Anne climbed out first and together pulled him from the death trap dingy.
“Alright, up and out now,” Sebastian urged the other girl. Very helpful these twins were, he decided. Ominis heard the clasp of their hands and then… a second noise, this one none too pleasant. See, Sebastian tugged on the girl’s arm and there came a loud, rather stomach-churning pop. Ominis assumed it was her shoulder.
The poor little thing hissed but miraculously stayed upright in the boat. Seeing as their little group was the last to arrive and most of the other first years were already filling out, the little mishap garnered little attention. However, Anne, always so concerned, was positively mortified.
“Bloody hell, love! Are you okay?” She immediately climbed off the landing and back into the boat, before helping to lift the other girl out.
“I’m fine,” Irene said, still so quietly.
“I-I am so, so sorry…” Sebastian swallowed audibly. “I think you should get that looked at…” He sounded downright sick. There came another disgusting popping noise followed by a nasty grinding that made Ominis even more queasy than he already was.
“Great gobstones!” Anne gasped. “Did you just shove your shoulder back into its socket?”
Irene seemed to back away a bit. “It's fine… happens all the time.”
“Alright…” Sebastian scratched the back of his head. “Wait a minute, are you an American?”
Ah, so that’s what was so odd about her voice! Ominis had been looking in the wrong place, so to speak. It was her accent that was funny. The little oddity was American. How… exotic.
“Y-yes… I am,” Irene practically whispered.
“Well… God blind me,” Anne said.
“Language, Anne,” Sebastian teased.
“Oh, shove it.”
Ominis just huffed, still rather grumpy - or at least reminding the twins that he had been. “Well, come on! Let’s not miss the sorting.”
Pulling out his wand, he and the twins followed after the rest of the first years. The strange American trailed behind them, quiet as a mouse. Destiny awaited them. And all four of them knew it. Perhaps, however, with all fate had in store for them, they shouldn’t have been quite so giddy.
#my name is cas and i write stuff#fanfic#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy ominis#anne sallow#my ocs#hogwarts legacy oc#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#ominis x oc#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#Ominis Gaunt x oc#character aesthetic#Hogwarts legacy character aesthetics#fan fiction#fanfiction#Hogwarts Legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fandom#garreth weasley#natsai onai#poppy sweeting#harry potter#wizarding world#sebastian sallow x reader#ominis gaunt x reader
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oooh maybe a part 2 to film wife: where you get booked with someone else on the same day that miko wants you, and she gets upset that you went to the other job first, but then you finish that job and show up for her and she’s making out with someone else for the video and you get pissed. maybe some like confrontation/being cornered in a trailer type of thing 🤭 can end in smut obvi - 🥸
Film Wife pt 2
Young Miko x female reader !
A/n: oh my god I absolutely adore this !! Thank you anon I have the perfect idea ;) not the best but I still hope you enjoy
Warnings: SMUT OFC MDNI ! bit of a argument but it doesn't last long, strap usage, language ? Squirting
Masterlist
Appointments after appointments. You seemed to be really popular for music videos lately and well, you weren't exactly complaining. The pay was good. You were currently grabbing your bag as you were done for the day, when Stacy comes over to you. "Ok, a little pickle but- tomorrow this singer wants you to be in her music video right... Miko called." Your face lights up. "Wait really?" Stacy nods. "But this singer called first it starts at 1 pm- Mikos at 1:30 so it's it's bit tricky, you may have time to go to Mikos if she waits." You ponder her words, that's so close together. "I'm sure it'll be ok if I'm a little late to Mikos right?" She shrugs. "Hopefully."
It was the next day, you were walking into the studio of your first singer, she wasn't very famous so you hadn't heard of her before. "Darla." She extends her hand out to shake it. You introduce yourself too. "Its nice to meet you." "Likewise." She says with a smile. "Right so I'll run through what you'll be doing in the scene." You nod as she speaks, walking along with her to the area the shot will be taking place. "Not too much of an intimate scene but there will be kissing." You smile softly. "Yeah course, I'll just go set my things down." You tell her, quickly going over to do just that.
"Action!" The director calls out. The music begins to play, and she was such a good singer, how had you never heard of her before. Even if she wasn't as well know, you were close with the industry because of what you do, surely you would've heard something. The kiss was coming, she gently grabbed your face going to lean in. It was more sweet and delicate than anything, you weren't complaining ofcourse. Nothing compared to Miko tho. It didn't last too long either, but when you pulled back you gave a soft smile. She seemed to be really sweet, she intrigued you to say the least.
Once everything that needed to be done was finished with you go to grab your stuff to head over to Miko. "Hey." Darla sprints over. You turn to look at her flashing your smile. "Youre really good to work with." Your smile widens. "Thank you! Heaps of people think so apparently." She smiles now. "Well I made a good choice hiring you, I saw you in some other music videos and begged my team to get you in here." You blush slightly. "That's really sweet, thank you for this opportunity, really."
You pulled up to Mikos studio, grabbing your bag and heading in. Stacy was yet to arrive so you decided to just go on in. As you go in you spot her and some other girl kissing for the shoot. Impatient. You thought to yourself. She spots you briefly, smirking at you. You hated it in all honesty. But you sat down anyways you don't know why you clearly weren't going to be in it. The way she was holding her, the way she was kissing her- you needed to stop thinking like this as if she was yours. Which she wasn't. Once the scene was done she strides over to you. "Well hello." You look up at her. "Hello to you too, see you couldn't wait a little bit." She gives you a look. "Hey not my problem you had other plans before me." You keep looking at her. "Its my job-" "And this is mine." She quickly adds. There was a silence. "Meet me in my trailer once I'm done with this yeah?" You furrow your brows, going to get up. But she sits you right back down. "No no. I want you to watch this." You keep your stare on her, a little confused but also a little annoyed. She smirks at you. Again. Going to head back over.
It was killing you, the way the girl would touch Miko the way she did. But why on earth would you feel this way it wasn't professional whatsoever. You averted your eyes just wanting this to be done already. Finally, when it was. She comes over to you heading for the door of the building. "Come on." She says. You hesitantly get up and follow her outside to her trailer. "Why do you even want to spea-" "what was the job you did." Your brows squeeze together. "What?" She waits a second. "What. Was, the job." Your brow now raises. "What's it to you." Leaning on the door just looking at her. She walks closer to you.. Impossibly closer. "Was it a kissing scene?" You genuinely couldn't believe this right now. "Mi-" "Was it. A kissing scene." You shake your head with a scoff. "Why do you even care, I could say the same about what you were doing, so what's the big deal." She glares at you. "First you were late, and all because of-" "because of what? Go on. I'm all ears." You stare right at her. For what felt like forever as the silence overtook. She was jealous, she knew it was a kissing scene. "Yeah, yeah it was."
Your posture straightens getting closer to her too. Her expression looks a little cold. Sexy. "She was all over me, and her lips.. mmm." Your smirk grew as you finish your sentence. She was a statue, staring at you. "What?" Moving even closer to her face. "Don't like the thought?" When all of a sudden her hand was wrapped around your neck, lightly pushing you back and against the door. She pauses before immediately kissing you. And God how you had missed it. When you're ready for air, you pull apart looking at one another. Her grasp still around your neck.
"No, no I don't." Her voice was low. "Huh. Shame." You speak, looking straight into her eyes. Her hand tightens, and out of nowhere slams your back against the door again. Not that you minded. But your eyes did go wide at the impact, when you then felt her knee, slowly wedging into your cunt. You let out a breath. Her face leans down to your ear. "Hmm, wondering who got you this wet then. Can feel it on my knee mama." You swallow thickly, that confidence evaporated. You had no idea what to even say. "Cat got your tongue?" She then says pulling back to look at you briefly. Her knee still in that position, moving a little bit. Making your mouth run slack. "She would never make you feel like I know. I can. And you know it too, isn't that right." She says, but oh boy was she not nearly done. "I mean, why else would you even come here. You knew damn well I could've gotten someone else considering your late arrival. So, why. Bother?" You had no formable words for her question. Because in fairness you didn't know. Or did you.. "go on, might as well say it hm?"
Taking a moment, letting out a small breath, her grip loosens. "W- wanted-" You swallow. "Wanted to see you anyway. M-missed you." You pathetically breathe out. It shocked you how weak she could get you, within seconds. "There you go." But you wanted to wipe the smirk off her beautiful face. "Mm, but what about with that girl." She glances at your lips. "Know you were thinking about me when you were kissing her, right?" Nothing, she's silent. "I'll take that as a y-" "bet I can fuck you so good. Oh wait, know I can. Does she get to?" That shut you right up as she gets closer again. "Didn't think so." She smirks again going to kiss you. Her hand slowly moves down into your jeans, past your underwear and straight to the point. "Didn't realize you were this wet." Your breath hitches, getting caught in your throat. "Who did this to you mi amor." Your eyes shut. "Y-you did." This only increases her ego, swiping her thumb along your neck as she still had it in her grasp. "Good. Good." Her lips were back on yours.
Kissing you hungrily. You gasp as her hand tightens, resulting in her slipping her tongue into your mouth. Her hand resumed it's actions in your pants, going straight to your entrance. You pull away from the kiss slightly. Breathlessly, letting a moan escape your lips. She speeds up. "I want you to cum on my fingers." You go to lazily kiss her again. "Miko.." You breathe out her name, feeling her thumb pick up on your clit. Her fingers pumping inside you, moving her lips to your neck. "So wet.. hungry for me huh?" You almost choke on your saliva, feeling your body go to mush in her hands. "P-please.. I need more." Her pace doesn't slow. "What more could you want angel. Go on. Tell me." It's like she knew exactly how to get you. Knew how inaudible you got during sex, especially when she made you feel the way you did. "I- mhf." You groan out. "Sorry, what?" She gets close to your face, staring you straight in the eyes.
"P- mmm." You started getting embarrassed at the way she had you, exactly where she needed you. But you were too far gone to give a shit. "Spit it out baby." You moan. "Need you to fuck me. Begging for you to." She swears she could go insane by your desperate voice. She quickly grabs your waist, beginning to bend you over the small couch in her trailer. Her swift movements, immediately taking off your pants. The cool air hitting directly on you. Your breath is uneven. "Miko.." "Getting there pretty girl." And she was, you felt the tip of her strap soon enough, making you hum gently. She slowly slides it in making your jaw drop, putting your hands down for support. Her pace was antagonizing slow. "F-faster." You blab. You feel her hands grope at your ass, eventually speeding up. "Know how you wished it was me today. Kissing you, bending you over like this. All you could think about huh mama?" The dirtiest moan comes out of you, feeling yourself coming to that breaking point. "S- fuck." You almost go cross eyed. It hit the perfect spot. "All I need to know." Miko smirks at your reply. "I'm so close.." But she doesn't respond, keeping that speed the same.
"Go on then, cum on it. Let me know just how much you wanted me, today." Your mouth runs dry as you felt it approaching. Her hand makes its way down to your clit, going at an ungodly pace. The action only speeds up your ogasm, making you squirt shortly after. Her eyes go wide only for a second as she wasn't expecting it, but she's left with a proud smirk.
"Good girl."
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Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 8]
Warnings and Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint). Should know the drill on my use of Mando'a, italics and my headcanons for an AU fic by now if you've been following along with the series this far. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Story picks back up two days after the birthday party. Medic!Reader now has herself a new relationship ehehe~ There's some new sibling-plotting because Hunter's room is a sad, bland mess. Describing the layout of a house is tricky, bedrooms less so. References to medical paraphernalia and an injury. Hunter being a good big brother figure. Hunter is invited to have dinner at Medic!Reader's house (and passes Spoon's standards). Brief mention of the inhibitor chips a few times. Hint of angst. Hunter ends up staying the night with a hint of body worship~. Tender hurt/comfort material at long last.
Word-count: 6,556
The door chimed five minutes after opening, signaling her first patient of the day had just stepped into her medical practice. She ducked out of her back office, surprised her services were needed so soon. Usually it took longer than just five-after, but with the seediness of the travel-hub, there was no telling if someone had been foolishly arguing in the shipyards with the stern foremen who ran then.
"Hello! How can I assist you this mor- Hunter?"
Clone Sergeant Hunter was standing in her clinic. Alone. None of his brothers or his sister was with him as he stood stiffly, just far enough into the clinic that the sensors didn't keep the door open to the street.
"Hey, mesh'la."
He didn't look hurt with a cursory once-over to her naked eye, a healer's habit. "Everything alright?" This was confusing. He didn't seem hurt, or appear sick, but he was standing here in the waiting area of the clinic he admitted to hating. So she assumed, very much in-line with her job as she bore the shattered cross on her shoulder of the uniform, it must've been something serious that brought him here. "What're you doing here?" Maybe he wanted to get that second set of stitches out after all after asking to think about it from the other day after he'd messaged her on her lunch break.
Wrecker, when you come back from the ship, please be sure to come in quietly. Crosshair has a headache.
> Hey there handsome, wrong comms. Afraid I'm not Wrecker. Just lil ol' Miss Medic~
Oh, Maker… Sorry to disturb you while you're at work, [____].
> It's okay! I'm on lunch break right now, nothing to disturb other than my boredom. Been a slow day. What's up?
"I… just thought I'd come and say hello. And," Hunter paused, swallowing nervously for just a moment as he looked over one of the bright red and blue pediatric chairs, "start challenging that discomfort of mine about clinics." There was an unspoken for you from the way his gaze softened and his brows un-bunched when he looked at her again. He'd given her a "flexible promise" when they talked things over on the night of her birthday as Hunter walked her home that he'd try being less avoidant and more open with her to make this new… relationship as of two days ago… work a little smoother.
Stars, she couldn't help the surprise. The touching tug this had on her heartstrings. "Awh…!" Color bloomed in his face and neck at the sound, a twin shade to the bandana wrapped around his skull. "Here, come with me to my back office. It doesn't reek like antiseptic in there, I promise." They could talk in a stronger sense of seclusion back in her office, and her patients wouldn't think she had anyone ahead of them or that she was in trouble if they saw Hunter lingering in some far corner like those shady pirate smugglers once had nearly a year ago.
She was glad those days were over when she was assured those pirates were encouraged to eat their blasters or they'd wish they had if they bothered her again. She was glad these new days as something a little more intimate and sweet were just beginning. She'd be spending a lot more time with the Batch. If she wasn't careful, she'd find herself living with them in their housing before she even realized that she was spending less time in her own home. The thought of it made her smile, and it burned brighter as Hunter tentatively took the medic's beckoning hand and trailed after her like the tide after the moon through her clinic to the back office, a look in his eyes so distant, like he was focused on a star far out in the great expanse of space out of a viewport in the cockpit of the Marauder.
Hunter didn't like to be here, he never came here alone for kriff's sake, but even as [____] could see he was consciously fighting the discomfort by dissociating, she couldn't help ask the question building on her tongue.
"You okay, Hunter?"
He was trying as he promised; speaking the things he often left unsaid. Trying for himself, but her most of all.
"I trust you."
I feel safe with you as she popped open the door to the back office and let him step inside first. It smelled like one of the great forests of Kashyyyk in the enclosed, private space. Wood of the Wroshyr trees, the rich, fibrous soil, and oxygen-rich air that felt like unfettered rejuvenation after a stuffy cycle under nothing but oxygen-recyclers. He wasn't sure how she accomplished this (she had Tech to thank for the help), but it was a thousand times more comfortable than the rest of the stark sterility of the small health practice.
I'm sorry for being avoidant for so long, too long as she started a second cup of caf in the caf-pot for him, pointing him in the direction of the most comfortable seat she kept in there for the patients when she had to break difficult news.
But at least I know without a doubt that I love you, mesh'la as he took the medic's offered caf-shot, the way he likes it, the way that doesn't bother his stomach, the way she recently learned, just for him.
You live in discomfort, she told him in her own flexible promise that night that marked another year since her birth, another trip around another star in the galaxy different than the one she'd been born under, but that does not mean you have to be ashamed of it, or, let it stay that way. I can do things to help. Just have to use your words, big guy.
I can do that, mesh'la. Just… be patient with me.
"Now that I know what that means," [____] started softly, voice breathy and light with fondness, with a promise over the lip of her cup of caf, "I love you, too, handsome."
Maker… was he lucky for it.
Omega eagerly emerged from her room, fresh work of art in hand with bright eyes. "Where's Hunter? Is he in his room?"
"No," Wrecker laughed from the snug dining table, a mess of bolts and screws sprawled on the flat top in front of him. "Hunter's not in his room. He's not even home." Though he didn't look up from the assorted parts, the expression glued to his face now was clearly understood by Omega.
"Did he go to one of the shops? Our grocery list has gotten quite long…" Tech mused, goggles hanging around his neck, thumb and index cradling his chin in a thoughtful caress as he looked at the household board. It'd only been two days since the party, how were they already out of blue milk?
"Noooo. He's not supposed to, he's supposed to take it easy on his injuries still," Omega's voice playfully warbles with a laugh, "He's probably gone to visit [____]! I'll just show him what I drew later."
"Whu- hey I wanna seeee!" Wrecker whined, abandoning his focus on the project. "How come Hunter always gets to see your drawings first before the rest of us?"
"She's trying to get our bandana'd brother to put some karking color on his walls…" Crosshair yawned, swinging a leg off the sofa in a languid motion so he could sit up. "He's the only one in the house whose room looks like we just moved in. It's like looking at his bunk back on Kamino." Worse than that, actually.
At least on Kamino, Hunter's bunk bore the crest of their squad in the center of the wall… Here, far from Kamino, there were completely bare walls in the smallest bedroom. No pictures. No crests. Just paint. A faded, dusty and soft gray with purple undertones that had been there when they moved in.
It was like looking into the makeshift brig on Kamino. The one Hunter had been given a rather aggressive "oh that was just a "love tap", get up!" by a Shock Trooper's stun-staff all for trying to protect Crosshair, even as much as the behavior spurred on by the inhibitor chip upset him. Angered him.
"You are not taking my brother anywhere! I don't give a damn Sith's left tit what orders you have! STAY BACK!"
Everyone had decided together what rooms they would take, based on the unique needs each of the men had. First and foremost, Omega had been given a room all to herself; the second door on the right side of the hallway, sandwiched between what became Crosshair's room at the end of the hall on the right corner, and Echo's closest to the common room. Wrecker and Tech had taken the biggest room since they didn't mind sharing, or a less than immaculate sleeping space. They'd all added little personal touches to their walls, save for Hunter.
And Omega found that depressing.
But for all the artwork she drew, none ever found its way on Hunter's walls with a gentle no-no, you keep it, ad'ika even if she tried insisting that it was okay if he kept it.
"Really? He still hasn't put anything up on his walls?" Wrecker frowned, bottom lip drooping into a confused, worried pout. "Why… why not? We've nearly been here a year! Doesn't this place feel like home to him already?"
"I theorize it's not because he wants nothing on his walls, but rather is afraid to put something on his walls for when he's experiencing one of his more severe headaches or ocular migraines." The worried frown melted into one of empathy. Echo had them on occasion much like Hunter, but hardly ever as severe. "Perhaps… small botanical prints would liven up the room, be less, er…" Tech stopped himself with a look at Omega's blurred figure. His sister enjoyed using the loud and bright colors one occasion for livening up their living space, but he didn't want to suggest that the reason many of those sorts of colorful creations weren't hung in commonly used areas was because they were garish.
Far from it, in his opinion. They just had an unfortunate and unintentional effect on the eyes of the marksman and the sergeant.
Though the movement was hard to see clearly, it appeared Omega's left eyebrow lifted before she asked Tech a question. "Less eye-strain to filter out?"
"Yes." Tech admitted simply. It hadn't been what he was thinking of saying, but Omega's guess was a good one, one he'd yet not thought of. Proud, Tech gave her a fond nod. "Less eye-strain to filter out. Very insightful, Omega."
Two siblings made out the opportunity and immediately ran with it, much to his displeasure.
"Was the pun intentional, nerd?"
"Haha, "insightful", good one!"
Grumbling lightly, Tech squared his shoulders at the tone behind the nerd jab. "That was not intentional. Merely happy coincidence. I don't see-"
"Well if you put your goggles on, you would!" Echo called from the two-seater, lowering his datapad to break away from the screen (more encrypted messages with Captain Rex most likely) for a moment.
"Oh come now, Echo, not you too..." he whined, giving Echo a look that he hoped said that he expected better of the only brother willing enough to regularly co-pilot with him.
Wrecker really did try to placate him, but unfortunately Tech's patience was thin enough that the additional remark proved too much. "Ah c'mon, we're only just teasing you, Techie."
He'd had enough and turned on his heel to go retreat to his room, set on temporarily locking Wrecker out. "Oh honestly-! SHIT!" Tech exclaimed, wincing at the sharp snap of his goggles as they slipped from his hands in efforts to quickly fix them back over his eyes. Oh kriff, that hurt… His right orbital socket was wracked with so much pain he hadn't heard one of his brothers had now gotten close to him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he was still staggered against the wall. Tech flinched, reflexively smacking the hand from his proximity. "Don't touch me!"
He could hear the flutter of paper as it was either set down or dropped. "I-Is he okay?" Omega stammered. Several sets of feet shuffled slightly closer, but only one of them invaded his personal space.
"Hey hold still, move your hand away, Tech; let me see." Crosshair clucked his tongue sharply, grabbing his brother's wrist instead this time so Tech couldn't skirt away, deaf to the protests. He didn't like the hiss of the inhale Crosshair made. "That'll leave quite the shinier, kid… C'mon. Let's take you down to the clinic so she can take care of that cut. While we're there we'll ask if we bother saving Hunter a plate for lunch."
"I- a cut?" He couldn't feel any cut, or blood for that matter. There was a lot a pain, so maybe he-
"Tech," Crosshair warned him, each word coming out in a slightly stern hiss, "don't go touching it. There's no telling what's gotten all over your hands since you've been working on your projects this morning." He tried moving his hand from Tech's wrist to better take his brother's hand to lead him along, but Tech shook his head. He'd forgotten Tech didn't like holding hands with someone without the barrier of a glove in the best cases, and this was not the best case since he'd reacted poorly to his brothers' teasing; he was not in the mood for it. "N-no. Absolutely not."
The hand returned around the wrist. "Alright, sorry Tech." Crosshair looked at Omega, who'd opened the front door for them. "We'll say hi to [____] for everyone." he promised her as he led a bitterly grumbling Tech behind him.
Hunter's hearty chuckle at the medic's joke was cut short in a muted choke of shock at the sensor to the door chiming before the sharp swish as it opened. They were just getting back to talking after [____] had settled a return of a patient's prescription canister of mild antibiotics they no longer needed for their malady. He had hoped that they'd pick up the "conversation" they were previously floating by one another, just a trail of whatever came to mind mostly.
Hunter hadn't been fully aware of the snarled growl of displeasure he'd made until she giggled softly from her desk. "That going to be a regular thing every time you visit me at work, Hunter? Getting jealous when someone needs my attention?"
Before Hunter could retort to the teasing, and it was just teasing, he could hear Crosshair's voice out in the waiting room. [____] could too, judging by the bemused grin. "I'm a marksman, I have good eyes. I'm not going to let you walk into a wall, Tech."
There was a sharp scoff. "You did when we were cadets!" Tech protested indignantly. "So you'll have to forgive me for recalling the first time you tried to assist me ended with my nose bruising!"
"Oh dear," the medic tutted, grin dropping sharply, "and here I thought perhaps one of your brothers came to see where you'd gone off to and weren't going to leave you alone. Came to tease you, or something. Sounds like Tech's gotten hurt…" [____] got up, coming around her desk and exiting her office quickly. Hunter followed after, hearing her heart skip with worry. "What happened, boys?"
Tech wrenched his hand from Crosshair's grasp and blindly clawed the air ahead of himself at the sound of her voice. "[____], there you are," he smiled triumphantly when she found his elbow to guide him to sit in a chair, not clearly seeing the wince when she looked over his blossoming black eye, "I know you'll be honest with me; I do not trust Cross to tell me the truth currently. Am I bleeding or not?"
[____] exchanged a little look with the snarky sniper that she had the sneaking suspicion that Tech couldn't clearly make out without his goggles. "Well what does Cross keep telling you? Mind the light-" she whipped the pen light out of her coat pocket and thoroughly inspected the orbital injury, tittering worriedly to herself, "oh Maker. That looks like that hurts."
"It does," Tech grumbled darkly, "and he keeps saying that I'm not bleeding, but there's a particularly tender area that feels like the skin has broken when I lost my grip on my goggles."
The marksman just sighs, "I kept telling him not to touch it." He and Hunter share a look of knowing. Tech's sense of curiosity was a gift and a curse in equal measures. A boon and a burden. Endless entertainment for the brothers in the long stretches of hyperspace, or absolutely annoying when they were, say, trying to sleep.
The medic lowers the pen light and takes both of Tech's shoulders. "You're not gonna like what I have to say," [____] warns the genius. "Crosshair is right about both of those points. You're not bleeding. And now we're going to have to use the stronger antiseptic wipes to play it safe since you've touched the surface cut. Only because I can't be sure what's all over all your little projects. Okay?"
Hunter just smiles softly as Tech takes her words to heart without much offense, appreciative she was honest with him as always. "... okay. That is fair."
Crosshair takes a seat near Tech, stretching his legs out in front of him, ankles crossed. "How'd he get hurt?" Hunter asks, bobbing his head at the marksman while [____] stepped into one of the small examination rooms to get what she needed. "He lost his grip on his goggles trying to pull them back on quickly. We took it too far with the teasing and he got upset…" Cross admitted softly, shaking his head shamefully before Hunter would have had the chance to scold. But Hunter only frowned softly, eyes sweeping from brother to brother.
It'd thankfully been a long time since Tech had been so badly teased by his brothers he was sulking silently. "Who is "we", this time?" The last time had been started by Wrecker, almost a year and a half ago, and the two brothers hadn't talked to each other for a week no matter how earnestly and sincerely Wrecker apologized for his slights. Maker, it'd killed Wrecker to have Tech so upset him. Hunter wished he could have resolved the old matter differently now; handled it more like a brother, and less like a leader. He could only try to be better now. "Mind telling me what happened so I understand?"
Cross volunteered, voice soft, "I started it. Wrecker and Echo joined in… Made fun of him for not wearing his goggles because-"
"Omega has more drawings she wishes to share with you, Hunter." Tech cuts in, and his voice has less of a bitter tone, but still rather terse. It's a confusing interruption.
"Oh?"
"She's worried about the state of your room. It's too plain."
Hunter sighed softly and took a seat between Crosshair and Tech, all three telling [____] it was no problem that she had to take an emergency call in her back office, dropping off the items she'd need for Tech with them and apologetically promising to be ready to help soon. "It's okay, mesh'la… Yeah, I know Omega is; I agree with her on that." Tech turned sideways in the waiting room chair and did his best to meet Hunter's eye, which just tugged at Hunter's heart seeing Tech's injury so close now, thankful it was minor. "I haven't been sure where to start. So… if you have some kind of plan, I'm all ears."
Tech blinked in surprise. "You mean it…?"
"Tech." Hunter murmured softly, nodding his head in the direction of the back office with a lazy grin where he could hear her wrapping up the emergency call advising the patient they needed to seek out a clinic with a bacta tank and regretfully had no such thing herself, "If I wasn't sure where I should start with something big like telling her how I feel, of course I mean it."
In the back office, [____] had set down the communicator and spent a minute tidying up her desk by moving Hunter's empty mug of caf from its precarious perch to stall for time. She could make out just enough of their conversation to tell that Hunter was having yet another tender moment with his brothers that she didn't dare interrupt.
She respected and admired Hunter's efforts to take care of his family to the best of his abilities.
It's part of what made her love him, after all.
Come on… he's spent hours in position before waiting for his quarry, but this was agony. Hunter sighed sharply, drumming his fingers into the tabletop with a grimace as he tried returning his attention to the catalog of various paint samples [____] had loaned him. Page after page filled with soothing colors she'd considered for her clinic that she sent home with him when he returned with Crosshair and Tech once she'd treated the orbital injury.
"I can hear you out in the lobby better than you think, handsome. Go home, have some lunch while Tech spells out some master plan; tell the others I said hello, too. You can tell me how it all goes over dinner at my place tonight… if you're interested?"
He hadn't even hesitated, even slightly, when he asked "What time do you plan on closing the clinic today so I can take you home?" and ignored how both his brothers snickered behind his back.
He couldn't focus. He'd much rather be jogging down that shortcut between the high-rises and reach the clinic doors just as she stepped outside to lock up for the night, calling out that Echo was in charge until he got back. Now that Hunter had finally told her, and [____] reciprocated how he felt, he couldn't stop thinking how light and freeing it had become… "Staring at the time won't make it go any faster, Hunter."
He just smiled softly, not realizing he'd been staring off into the distance again since showering twice to rid himself of the antiseptic aroma that clung to him before giving the catalog a look. "I know, Omega…"
"I wish it would too, though." his sister admitted, pushing a chair closer to join him and flip through the assortment of colors and all the handwritten notes [____] had crammed in the margins. Hunter gave his sister a curious look, wondering why Omega said such a thing. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"
Omega scooched her chair closer, burrowing herself into his side when he put an arm around her and pulled her closer. "Well...You used to be so stressed out all the time since… the chips activated. Things slowly got better when we met [____] and learned that we could trust her. You've been a lot happier since telling her… And I'm glad to see you so happy. We all are."
Hunter said nothing to tarnish the moment, just allowing himself to sit in silence and return his sister's embrace. He always knew in the back of his mind his sister was highly aware below the surface of the rest of her personality, but there were always opportunities she surprised him; just enough instances of bombshell-revelations to keep the five of them on their toes. Sometimes it was scary just how perceptive she could be. Sometimes, like now, there was a pang of sorrow deep in his chest that she'd been worried about him.
Yes, she was older than him, physically, and some might (foolishly) argue less mature because she lacked experience, but it personally didn't make sense to Hunter that she should have to worry about him. She should get to be a child while she has time… Crawling into someone's bed because she had a nightmare. Taking breaks from the important studies she had with Tech just to daydream out the window, or tinker around with her few toys, or doodle. Making friends and memories that weren't stained red with the stench of war…
He should've shaved when he'd been in the 'fresher, he realizes when Omega's hand tenderly cups his cheek the same way she'd comforted every brother when they woke up from the process of getting those chips out of their heads with Captain Rex's help. Her little thumb brushes through the stubble around his jaw, her bright eyes scrutinizing his face as she looks at him and apologizes. "I didn't mean to make you sad…"
"You didn't, ad'ika." Hunter assures her once he's made up his mind and returns the favor, cupping her cheek before affectionately ruffling her hair after checking the time. "Promise me one last thing before I go pick up [____] from her clinic."
"What's that?"
Hunter pulled his sister snug against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Omega was eager to return the offered affection, tucking her head under her brother's chin. "Don't grow up on me too fast, okay? I love you, Omega."
Releasing one another after a moment, Hunter gathered his things and tied his bandana absentmindedly now that his hair was finally dry, "Let Echo know-"
"He's in charge until you get back, I know. I will!" Omega giggled, playfully pushing him towards the door while calling over her shoulder into the rest of the house that Hunter was leaving. "We'll be fine, don't worry about us. Go! Have fun!"
After years of the Kaminoan mess halls and GAR rations, it mattered very little what one put in front of Hunter for a meal. Was it seasoned with identifiable flavors, human-safe and appropriately warm or cold? Congratulations, it was palatable, the idea of it being "too simple" be damned! He completely understood that she'd be a little tired after the work she does in a health care clinic situated in a spaceport like this. The bustling travel-hub was always rife with those who needed her help, it was no surprise she would have a large assortment of ready-made meals tucked away in her cold-unit for the precious few hours she truly had to herself.
Her precious few hours she'd sweetly invited him over to share and have some dinner together.
"It's okay; simple is good." She just grinned softly at him, laying the pre-packaged dinners she'd picked up most recently on the countertop after hearing his assurance. "Besides, I'll be able to tell you how everything went that much sooner."
[____] laughed this time. "Oh boy. This oughta be good."
It certainly was. It took Hunter most of dinner to explain through shared laughter how Tech had done a lot of measurements, somehow found the floorplan of their exact house and had been so dismayed that the room Hunter had taken was just barely larger than the cockpit of their attack shuttle.
"He's threatening to find us another house, now."
"Oh, Maker! How serious is he?"
Hunter just chuckles, stabbing another portion of salted vegetables and noodles before saying with a smile "It took quite a while to talk him out of it. For now."
Next he gets briefly sidetracked by talking about enjoying all the little notes she'd written in the edges around the pages of the color samples she hoped would be kinder on his eyes, and adored, yes adored, the flourishes she added to her handwriting.
"It's so very… you."
"Well: now I'm curious about your handwriting…" she admits, biting back a smile behind the lip of her cup.
"Hah, good luck. May need a translation key for my nuna-scratchings."
"Hush, I'm sure it's not that messy. I've seen the most atrocious handwriting from people in my own profession," she countered with a gentle laugh, "I'm sure it's far more legible."
Okay, she had a point, he laughingly conceded before getting back on topic. Hunter briefly recounted some of the considered colors, noting that was about as far as he got before he’d come to meet her in front of her clinic’s door.
The longer Hunter and [____] spent talking about other things once dinner had been finished, the more Hunter noticed the steadily building ache in his head. It was brushed off easily enough at first, chalking it up to minor, probable causes, but the headache flared stronger not long after it began. Before long, Hunter was cradling his head in his hands when the medic had ducked into her kitchen to take care of the plates and grab something sweet to share.
Maker, what was making his head hurt so much?
"You keep grumbling to yourself in there," [____] called softly from her kitchen over the rumble of the sink as she washed her hands, "you okay?"
"My head…" he complained softly. "Think I tied the bandana too tight after using the fresher at home..." His skull felt like it was being juiced, and it was deeply uncomfortable now, every beat of his pulse felt through his scalp.
She set the dessert item down on the countertop and skirted around the table to come behind him, a steady hand on the upper arm of his left side. "Lemme see." With her right hand, Hunter could feel her try to gently tuck her first two fingers under the edge of his bandana, but could only comfortably fit her index before she would have been tugging on the accessory. [____] moves to inspect the knot, and he can hear that sad frown on her voice. "Oh blast sakes… that's a tight knot, big guy. I think I can do something to help with that, if you’re interested."
Whether pain made him desperate, or it was an exercise of his trust in her, Hunter surprised her by how quickly he agreed to the idea. [____] leads on to her room, guiding Hunter with a tender hand. "In here. S-sorry about the clothes on the floor, Spoon keeps getting into my dirty clothes basket lately…" She hastily kicks what must be some undergarments under some other clothing before scooping it all up and dumping it into the proper receptacle. All he catches is a flash of her favorite color, too focused on the living Tooka currently curled around the Tooka doll. "Hah, speaking of my new little rascal. She's kinda adopted me and decides that she lives here now as of two days ago. Not exactly Crosshair's biggest fan."
Hunter gives the skittish feline an inquisitive look, offering out his hand, palm up, with his fingers slightly curled to make them appear smaller and less threatening as Spoon took a curious sniff. "Didn't like my brother, hm?" He laughed softly when he received a tentative lick from the Loth-cat before she uncurled herself from the stuffed rendition and buckled her back before hopping down off the bed, deliberately sidestepping to throw her light-furred body against his ankle in a display of trust. "Cross can be a sarcastic little snot, but he's not all bad, I promise."
[____] giggled softly. It was such a beautiful little sound to Hunter. She could laugh so easily and freely…
Was it possible that Tech has some sound byte of [____]'s laughter, the same way his brother had several recordings of the joyous way their older sister could whoop with laughter right alongside Wrecker? She could make him laugh just because she was laughing so hard with Wrecker, sometimes… What did [____] think of his laugh? Did it sound natural to her? Would he sound as happy as she did listening to himself in some audio snippet tucked away in that maze of files Tech stored on his datapad?
He hoped so.
It was… hard to feel worthy of that happiness sometimes. He had his siblings to take care of. Memories of the GAR to carry for the remainder of his accelerated life; the orders he had to carry out.
The orders he disregarded. Either because he didn't want to do them, or didn't think they were right.
She'd caught him reaching under his bandana for that thin, pinkish mark that was the only proof of his inhibitor chip these days. That he used to have one like every other Clone. "Hey. Hunter? Did loosening it help any?"
Thank Kamino's rains: she just thought he was adjusting his bandana after she'd tried loosening it for him. "Not sure, mesh'la…" he admits, voice a slightly frustrated huff. Loosening it usually helps, but there'd been little improvement. Guess it was just too tight for too long.
[____] kicks herself up onto the mattress of her bed, patting the space on either side around her. "C'mere then. Lemme take care of you."
Take the medic out of her clinic…
"Can that bed support two people?" Hunter checks, thinking of the way he saw other Clones, his fellow GAR soldiers and brothers, trying to find a way to squeeze on the same rickety cot after a particularly brutal campaign to find a semblance of security. Comfort. Familiarity so far from Kamino for the younger batches of brothers. And the too many times to count that Wrecker ended up just taking the thin mattress off the cots and the bunks and sleeping on the floor so he spared himself the lecture for breaking GAR property. "F-forget I asked… old habits."
"Military beds are not that great for a, uh… cuddle, hm?"
"Not always…" Hunter admits, face flushing after he considered what words [____] must have thought of before settling for something so… wholesome. He gets up on the bed beside her, unlacing his boots and shedding his shirt before he tentatively lays down as she suggests. She wants to see if a massage would help with lessening his headache before she scrounges up one of the many over the counter painkillers she has here at her home. Hunter doesn't protest when she breaks apart the knot and lays his bandana on her bedside table, or when she begins to methodically muss his hair. He only hates that he can't comfortably look up at her when he's laying prone like this on his stomach.
She truly did mean it in a wholesome sense, he realizes when she speaks next. "Must've been just awful for poor Wreck… Big guy's kinda a snuggler through and through."
"Yeah… Wrecker sure is." he agrees. He's received more spine-popping hugs than he'd ever possibly be able to remember. He's also received some of the most effective results of deep pressure therapy for the episodic sensory overloads with Wrecker's help. Many weren't sure why the explosive ordnance expert was so affectionate, but like hell he'd let his brother believe the behavior was bad, rather only the timing, in some cases.
Her hands creep lower and lower through his hair from the crown of his head, massaging his scalp in sections. She sections off another portion of his hair on the right side, and her breath hitched with minor surprise. "What's-? Is that a scar from an old head injury…? Oh Hunter…" The bed below them shifts as she bends forward to get a better look.
Blast it. Maybe she doesn't know, he certainly can't remember with this splitting headache. "[____]... Do-"
She hums softly to interrupt him, shaking her head decidedly. "No… that's too clean to be an injury. That's an old incision scar. Less than a year old, I would guess..." She sits back, tracing the old scar with a gentle touch before her hand plants itself on his back, her thumb sweeping over his spine lazily. "That's about… how long ago Crosshair said that everyone had the inhibitor chips removed, based on when he came to my clinic to get some advice." [____] sweeps her thumb over the scar once more, a silence falling over them both, and she moves on to another area, shifting the topic slightly.
"Crosshair ever tell you how much that hug meant to him when you practically tripped over yourself getting off the front steps? Explicitly?"
It takes him a moment to answer her, the relief ebbing over him as [____] gently scratches and massages Hunter's scalp in little, circular motions is proving a massive boon. She's a natural at this, he's even starting to feel a little sleepy as the headache falls away, degree by degree. "Not explicitly... Not his thing…"
She laughs softly, the sound gentle and bright. "Must've been in his own little Crosshair way then. Nothing wrong with that…" He hums agreeably, crawling forward and adjusting his arms to get more comfortable at her invitation to lay his head on the tops of her thighs so she can continue to fuss her hands through his hair more comfortably for them both. He can't see it well, but she's smiling down at him this entire time as she watches his blinks growing slower and slower each time she works her fingers through those dark brown curls from root to tip.
The tension in his body melts away the longer she treats his aching head and spoils him with attention. He's speaking in gentle little mumbles, all the while being this close to falling asleep on her, literally. (She doesn't mind in the slightest; she did it first after all.)
"Taking off the bandana help any?" [____] murmurs after a few minutes of silence passes by, rearranging the hair that's fallen over his eyes. He's awake, but just barely. His eyelids flutter open a fraction of a second, the action a slight twitch of movement more than anything. "Mm…?"
"Nevermind, sweetheart," she tells him, caressing and stroking the back of his head in a languid, loving fashion, feeling his breath pulling in and out in regular waves across her thighs as he rests on his stomach, his head in her lap. "It's okay. You can just go to sleep, if you want." There's no movement in his face, the hint of his sleepy, easy smile doesn't budge. Just a lazy hum from deep in his chest that she can feel through the mattress and bedding below her as he finally surrenders to slumber, permission given. "...mm-m."
Only when she's entirely certain that Hunter's asleep does [____] speak, or move in the slightest. With care, she eases his head off her lap and tucks one of the spare pillows beneath him, planting a kiss against his temple. Another over the old incision scar for good measure before she tries to slip away and check on Spoon one last time for the night. "Goodnight, Hunter…"
Even in his sleep, Hunter is somehow able to find her hand and take hold, latching on tightly before she can get far. He whimpers, kriffing whimpers, her name softly in protest because he must sense her trying to leave.
"Okay, okay," [____] murmurs soothingly, glad she can turn off lights remotely more than ever as she gingerly rejoins him on the bed, "I'll stay, sweetheart." she promises Hunter, caressing the back of his head once again. She begins with shimmying the bedding over them both, all the lights set to shut off, and finally laying back before Hunter appears content and drifting into deeper sleep. Truly content.
"I'm not going anywhere..."
Taglist: @dragonrider9905 @ladytano420 @the-hexfiles @ilovethosebrowneyes9904
Note from Frost: If you would like to be added to the taglist that is currently just specific for Sorry, Wrong Comms!, (I may start a taglist for all Star Wars related fanfiction projects that will be marked accordingly with #frostfics in the near future if there is interest) don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or a comment loves. 🩷
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Borrower Drones Chapter 2!
Uzi's face beeped loudly as her 3:00 A.M. alarm sounded, the numbers glowing brightly as she exited sleep mode. She slapped her face to shut it off and quickly got to work. Uzi quickly got on her feet and scrambled around her room. She put on a fresh change of clothes and threw on her favorite hoodie. She grabbed her railgun and made for her dad's room.
Khan's door was tricky for Uzi. It was the only one in the house that wasn't borrower-friendly, and for good reason. Her dad had forbade Uzi from entering that room specifically because it couldn't be borrower-friendly. It was full of sharp and heavy tools, and knowing what he knew about Uzi, he knew she would most likely hurt or significantly damage herself inside. Too bad he left the one thing Uzi could ever want in the room so close to the door.
Uzi used her grapple hook to climb to the keypad, and thanks to seeing Khan put in the code so many times, put the code in by swinging out and landing on the keys.
The door opened with a swoosh. Uzi quickly swung in, grabbed what she wanted, and swung out before the door closed. Uzi slid down some string and inspected her stolen good. It was one of the master keys for the doors. It was the size of Uzi's entire body and looked like the key fob for a car. It was black with three red buttons, one for each door. Each button had a Roman numeral correlating with the door they opened. Uzi quickly wrapped a rubber band around it, attaching it to her back.
Uzi makes her way to door three, the already massive door looking gigantic to Uzi and her tiny form. Uzi takes a deep breath and opens door 3, only to be met with her father.
"Uzi? What are you doing out here at this hour?" Khan took a step forward and bent down to try and pick up Uzi, but stopped when he remembered that she didn't like being held by him. So, he took a few steps back to make looking at each other easier.
"I'm uh... Sneaking out to make out with my totally real boyfriend?" Uzi smiled awkwardly while she rocked on her feet. Despite Khan backing up, she still had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. His brows furrowed in suspicion. He tried to hold back his laughter, not wanting to patronize his daughter and all, but alas, he couldn't. He burst out laughing a deep belly laugh that had him holding his sides. He quickly recovered and put on his serious dad face.
"I'm serious, Uzi. What are you doing out here?" Khan looked at Uzi with the "don't try me, I'm your dad" look. Uzi couldn't help but shudder under his gaze. Who knew scary dad looks were more powerful when your dad is 12 times your size?
"Okay, okay! I just need to look at the exterior of door one... I need...some ideas f-for a...class project? On doors?" Uzi put on her best poker face for this lie. One wrong expression and her dad would probably ground her for life, which wouldn't be hard given her size.
Luckily for Uzi, Khan fell for it. Khan immediately beamed with excitement. "A school project on doors! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" Khan picked up Uzi without thinking and brought her into the room between doors one and two, where the rest of the on-duty WDF were huddled around a table playing cards.
"Guys, my daughter has a school project on doors! And she seems pretty interested!" Uzi couldn't help but blush and cover her face in embarrassment as Khan drew attention to her. The other workers in the area began to applaud but quickly switched to groans of annoyance as Khan opened door one, causing the cards to be blown around the room. "She's going to be outside door one for a bit to study it's b-e-a-utiful design if I do say so myself!" Khan bends down and places Uzi on the ground, lightly pushing her towards the open door with pride. "Go, Uzi! Your door-specific destiny awaits!"
Uzi was stunned. She couldn't believe that her lie had worked. She turned herself back towards Khan and the other workers and began walking backward out of the bunker.
"Okay then... I guess I'll be leaving. um... Go doors!"
Uzi stopped in her tracks when she saw her dad and the rest of the worker drones hollow-eyed and panicked. She turned around, only to be met with a tall murder drone, a yellow x in the place of eyes, and their nanite acid tail in the control panel for the doors. All the doors opened, and all Uzi could do was freeze in fear and watch.
All the normal-sized worker drones turned and fled. All except for one, who sat at the table in shock. He didn't say a word, only a brief scream that was cut off too soon by the murder drone stabbing him with its tail and cutting off his head. The murder drone then turned to the group of fleeing workers, who hadn't even made it to door three yet. It pulled out a missile launcher and fired three missiles. Two missed and the last one met its mark, shredding two workers in the blast.
One worker drone turned to see the carnage, only to be met with the murderer pouncing on him and ripping out his throat module with its teeth, The module shrieks as the metal tears from the drone's neck by the metal fangs of the murder drone.
Uzi scrambles to run. Her small size makes her very slow compared to the much larger worker drones. She saw the murder drone commit its carnage in front of her, and yet she forced herself forward in the hopes of reaching safety.
Khan runs to the right side of door three, hovering his hand over the "emergency close" button. He turns back to see one of his coworkers get cut in half with a lazar, they fall to the floor. A face of shock permanently froze on their face. Khan's eyes widen as they meet the eyes of Uzi, who hasn't even passed door two yet. It is then he is forced to make a decision, does he save his daughter and risk the lives of everyone in the bunker? Or does he close the door and doom his only child, but save the lives of everyone in the bunker?
With great sadness, he mouthes a quick, "I'm sorry," and he presses the emergency close. Uzi's eyes widen as she realizes what's happening.
Door three slams down shut, shaking the area with its weight. The disassembly drone stares at it in an animalistic hunger. It grunts angrily and turns around. It looks around before looking directly at Uzi. . .
Uzi's eyes widened in horror. She could see the thing eyeing her hungrily. She could only watch and tremble as the creature began to crawl on all fours towards her. Its metal claws scraped against the floor with ear-piercing screeches. It switches its claws for hands. It plucks Uzi up by her hood and brings it close to its face.
Uzi trembled as the murder drone stared at her. Uzi could feel the gaze burning into her core, deciding on whether or not to eat her or pull her apart like string cheese. Uzi's eyes stared at its fangs the thing's gaping maw. Her oil pump pounded in her ears. She never noticed the visor on the drone change from an x to wide curious eyes.
"Woah! What are you?"
Uzi blinked.
Did this thing just talk to her? She must be dreaming. She was probably in robo heaven, her body being torn and mangled in an unholy gruesome way. There's no way this thing—
"Can you even hear me? Or are you just scared? Oh jeez, you must be uncomfortable with me holding you like that! Here let me..." The drone brought up its other hand and placed Uzi into it before cupping both hands around her. Uzi just stared up at the drone confused, she had not expected the drone that just killed most of her dad's coworkers to be so friendly to her.
"I um... Thank you?" Uzi stammered, not sure what to say. She looked the drone up and down to get a better idea of what she was dealing with.
The drone was tall, even for a normal worker drone. It presented as male with its voice and clothes, which consisted of a giant black jacket with a fluffy tan fur collar, a yellow armband, and a pilot's cap. The drone's hair was a mid-length and silver. It shined beautifully in the fluorescent lights of the hallway. If Uzi wasn't so closed off, she would have admitted she thought he was handsome.
"Oh! I forgot to introduce myself!" The murder drone tilted his hand so that Uzi was cupped in only one as he brought the other to his head in a salute. "I'm Serial Designation N! It's nice to meet you!"
"Uzi." Uzi hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you gonna eat me?" Uzi looked into N's eyes, trying to find a hint of malice or dishonesty, but finding none. Instead, N's eyes softened and he frowned a little. "No? Why would I—? Oh. Right. Biscuits! I forgot I'm a disassembly drone! Ha ha! Sorry, for, you know, killing everyone..." N spoke softly, trying not to scare the tiny worker he held in his hand. Uzi began to calm down as the air of danger lifted. She breathed a sigh of relief before replying to N with, "It's fine, I guess."
"So as I said earlier, what are you? I have never seen a drone as small as you. It's really adorable!" Uzi blushed a little and her eyebrows furrowed in anger, a little anger emoticon forming in the corner of her visor. She did not like being called adorable, especially in reference to her size.
"I'm not adorable! And I'm a borrower drone! A defiantly not at all useless type of drone!" Her tiny outburst was met with a smile from N. "Oh, so that's what borrower drones are! I always heard J and V talk about them and how they're supposedly more delicious than a normal worker drone, but looking at you I just can't bring myself to find out if that's true!"
Uzi's visor showed nervous sweat marks. She tried to pivot the conversation away from N's diet of workers and what she would taste like compared to everyone else. "W-Who's V and J? Are they... friends of yours?"
N's eyes hollowed in realization and he collected his thoughts. "V and J are my squadmates! They're actually pretty cool! Okay, so, V . . ."
Cut to a scene in a back ally of the crumbling city. A slightly shorter than N disassembly drone with thinner more pointy legs, similar length and color hair, and a crop top jacket with a similar armband to N can be seen standing over a white-eyed worker drone with an orange winter coat.
The worker tried to crawl away, but when he turned around, V was right on top of him.
"No! Please! Let me live! I have a family! Plea—!" The drone fell dead as his head underwent rapid separation from his body with a blade. V stood over her kill triumphantly. She picked up the drone's head and whispered, "I know, they're next," before crushing the head in her claws and letting the oil drip down her arm.
Just out of V's sight, N watched on with starry-eyed admiration.
"V's amazing! And J . . ."
N lies on the ground with a pointed foot on his neck. A slightly larger disassembly drone stands over him. She wears a suit with a yellow dress shirt that matches the yellow armband on her arm. She has slightly darker silver hair that she wears in long pigtails on either side of her head. She looks down at N with disdain.
"N, you are worthless, terrible, and worth more as scrap. If you don't get your act together, and I get JCJenson in Spaaaaacccee!!!!! approval, I will kill you myself!"
"J is just the best boss ever!" N was about to continue when Uzi cut him off with, "Yeah yeah, they sound like terrible people. Can we talk about something else? Like..."
Suddenly, two figures land just outside the bunker. They look into the bunker curiously with yellow Xs over their eyes and wings protruding from their backs. They slowly walk towards N, their wings fold into their backs and their tails swing side to side threateningly.
Uzi, sensing the danger dives into a pocket on N's coat, surprising the larger drone. N opens his mouth to protest but shuts it when J speaks to him, her yellow x replaced with two ovals.
"Wow, N. Did you really get into the bunker? The company will love this for sure." J slowly steps closer to N as V pipes up.
"Yeah, N! Nice work! I mean, you didn't get past this door—" V points her thumb at door three over her shoulder, "—but you still managed to get a lot of carnage done!"
N stares at his two squadmates stunned. Praise? For him? Who had ever heard of such a thing? N's processors went into overdrive to hold his straight face together.
J and V looked at the third door, looking for any potential weakness they could exploit. Inside N's pocket, Uzi was freaking out and trying to hold still. She definitely didn't want to get caught by N's squadmates. Sweat icons dripped down her visor rapidly. All Uzi could think about were all the potential and creative ways she could be killed by the disassemblers. She clutched the master key to the doors as if it would save her.
J sighs and turns away from the door, flipping her hands and shrugging her shoulders in an "oh well" gesture. "Welp, looks like there's no possible way for us to open this door. Let's go home. Sun's about to rise."
Uzi sighs quietly in relief. She squeezes the key one more time, only to hear the worst thing possible at that moment; a click.
Door three rumbled as it lifted. V stood stunned, but J took her chance. She dived for the door. Uzi, in a moment of blind panic, managed to click the key again.
The door shut, not with a slam, but a crunch. J's torso was under the door when it shut. Her body twitched as it leaked oil. After a few seconds, it stopped. J was dead, and Uzi, the borrower drone, killed her. Granted, it's not the method Uzi wanted, but killing a disassembly drone was an impressive feat, even for a worker.
V and N stared stunned, they didn't know what to do. Their leader was dead, and they saw no one around to kill her. Only N had any inkling of an idea as to who killed her. He reached into his pocket and scooped Uzi out. He held her in his palms while she tried to hide behind the door key.
"Uzi, what did you do? Wait, was it you? I don't know! I'm sorry for blaming you! Maybe it was an accident?" N rambled as Uzi trembled and apologized profusely, begging not to be killed.
V stared at the two in silence before grinning widely. She traded her eyes for an x and her hand for claws. She pounced at Uzi, N moving her out of V's path just in the nick of time.
N looked at V stunned and she growled. "N, give me the borrower. You're clearly not going to eat it, so just give it to me." V pounced again, and N dodged again.
"No! I can't let you hurt her, V!" N blocked Uzi from V with his hand, pressing her against his chest. V swung at his arm and missed, but made N move it and Uzi behind his back.
"Fine then! I guess I'll just take her myself!" V swapped her claws for swords and swung at N, the latter using his own sword hand to block the attack.
"V, stop!" N cried, pushing V away. N may have the same strength as V, but his feet are more stable, and thus he was able to put more effort into keeping V back than she could put into her attacks.
N swapped his sword for his hands. V lunged at him, and before she could swing, N grabbed her by the chestplate. "What the—!"
N lifted V slightly and slammed her into the ground. Thinking quickly, he put Uzi down and tied up V with her own tail before she could re-orient herself.
"Oh my robo god V, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking! Please don't be too mad! Let's just go back to the spire, okay?" V glared at N and pouted, feeling embarrassed at being defeated by the failure of the squad.
N grabbed V to take her to the spire and offered his hand to Uzi for her to climb on. Uzi, feeling like she had no choice when faced with the giant, chose to climb on. N brought her up to his shoulder where Uzi got off his hand and sat next to his fur collar, clutching at it for stability. If there's anything she could say positivially about N, it would probably be that despite his lack of knowledge, he still could handle a borrower like her well.
Uzi sighed and then screamed as N took off for the spire, carrying V in his arms and flying slowly to keep Uzi from falling. Uzi was now going to be living with two murder drones and one of them wanted her dead. Rolled her eyes as she clung to N.
"Oh robo god, what have I gotten myself into?"
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The Finer Things (Case Fic Complete)
This fake/pretend relationship case fic topped off with some Diana angst is finally complete. I've neglected chapter updates on Tumblr, so here is my attempt to make up for that.
Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit
Part of the Do You Like Scary Movies? series
Tagging @today-in-fic
What is it About? Scully and Mulder are sent undercover onboard a luxury train to investigate the presence of a suspicious and undocumented train car. Playing a wealthy married couple is tricky, but they run into even bigger issues when an unwelcomed agent gets sent in for backup.
Sample from Chapter 5: The cocktail car was exactly how she left it. Crowded and loud. Mulder was now by the bar, chatting to what looked like a young couple.
“Hey, Chrissy,” Mulder announced when he spotted her. “This is Brad and Mike. They’re headed to Vegas on their honeymoon.”
Scully nodded to the couple and gave her congratulations. One good look at her, and Mulder’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Of course.” His hand had already found hers and was leading her away. “I’ll catch up with you, fellas, later,” he called over his shoulder.
Scully scanned the room. There wasn’t really anywhere private to stand, which was probably why Mulder dragged her toward the designated dance area.
“I don’t dance,” she whined, even as her hands slipped over his shoulders and his found a home on her waist.
“We’ve danced before,” he countered. “Now, what’s wrong?”
She wanted to scream the name Diana, but their cover forced her to speak in riddles. “That woman… the new passenger we met—”
“Irina?”
She nodded. “I let her use our private bathroom.”
“That was nice of you.”
“Well, my niceness was rewarded with her jumping down my throat. She disagreed with the conclusion we reached last night, and she let me know.”
“I think she’s been drinking.”
She scoffed. “Why do you always make excuses for her?”
“I don’t always make excuses for her. I just met her.” He emphasized the last sentence to subtly remind her they were undercover in a packed room of people.
Scully took a step closer. “She’s rude.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it doesn’t mean as much coming from me, but she shouldn’t have confronted you like that.”
“I think she’s interested in you.” The statement came out before she could stop it.
“Too bad I’m married.”
Butterflies started in her stomach. Their wings were weighed down by envy and uncertainty. It was like Arcadia all over again. “She wants to sleep with you.” Scully tried to say it clear and detached, but the quiver of her lip betrayed her.
Mulder grabbed her chin, tilting her head until their eyes locked. “I’m not interested in her.”
“She’s your type… was your type.”
He scoffed, the hand on her face dropping back to her waist. “If you think I’m still interested in her, then you haven’t been paying attention.”
Her mind sifted through recent memories. The kiss that never happened in his hallway. Mulder’s love confession in a hospital room. His needy behavior on Christmas Eve. She’d wanted him for so long, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that he wanted her the same way. That maybe Diana was the push she needed instead of the obstacle she initially saw her as.
“I wouldn’t know,” she responded. “We don’t usually talk about stuff like that.”
“Maybe we should start,” he challenged. “I meant what I said before. You look beautiful.” The statement was oozing with the same sincerity as earlier. Scully couldn’t help but drop her gaze.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
“It’s just so different than how I normally see you.”
She peered up. “Is that bad?”
“No. I wish I could see you like this more. Surrounded by the finer things in life. Dressed up. Dancing. Sitting across from me at fancy dinners.”
“I didn’t realize you liked those types of activities?”
“I like doing them with you.”
Her cheeks burned with the declaration. She took another step closer. There was no space between their bodies, and Mulder’s hands lowered on her waist, fingers hovering just above the curve of her butt. “That’s what certified besties are for,” she remarked.
He froze in place, their poor attempt at dancing coming to a sudden halt. “That’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t just want you as a best friend.”
Her heart pounded with anticipation. “How else do you want me then?”
“Like this,” he uttered as he leaned forward.
She knew a kiss was coming but still couldn’t prepare herself for how it felt. For the electric feeling of Mulder’s warm mouth on hers. For the way one of his hands threaded through her hair and tugged her impossibly closer. This was what she wanted to do in Arcadia. Hell, this was what she wanted to do since she’d shook his hand six years ago. The arousal between her legs was proof.
She reluctantly pulled back only because what she desired to do next couldn’t take place in the middle of the cocktail car. “I’m suddenly feeling like going back to the room.”
Mulder’s lips quirked into a smile. “Funny you say that. I was just thinking the same thing,” he said as he interlaced his fingers with hers.
Find the rest on a03
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the sky’s not falling down just yet
@natsumeweek 2022
day 5; whispers/sharing
read on ao3
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x
Technically, it’s considered an emergency placement. Given Touko and Shigeru’s unilateral success with a case as difficult as Takashi’s, it doesn’t take much for Ono to push the arrangements through. They have a lot of meetings with her, and even Sakamoto makes a few trips out, and slowly but surely the tricky details are hammered down and inexhaustible amounts of paperwork are filed away.
Meanwhile, Takashi helps Shigeru convert their empty guest bedroom into something warmer and more personal. Touko lovingly prepares for a fourth person in all their shared spaces; another hand-stitched cushion in the sitting room, another chair at the kitchen table, another pair of house slippers in bright purple, because she already knows it’s his favorite color. Kitamoto’s parents get permission from Genta to go to Nishimura’s house and pack up his things.
It’s looking as though all the adults involved in the process want him to never have any reason to go back to that house ever again, and they’re working long hours to make it happen. Takashi quietly approves.
Nishimura, for his part, doesn’t want to talk about any of it. He’s still unhappy with these decisions being made over his head. He always looks a little cornered when any of it comes up in conversation, a little vulnerable. It’s easier on Takashi’s heart to just let him change the subject whenever he wants.
He stays with Kitamoto for the rest of the week. Neither of them come to school, and all Nomiya-sensei will tell his students is that there was a family emergency, and they should respect Nishimura’s privacy. Kitamoto’s homeroom teacher must have said more or less the same thing, because Tanuma approaches Takashi at lunch with Kitamoto’s make-up work in hand and a worried frown on his face.
“Nishimura isn’t here, either?” he asks, brow furrowed as he passes the homework packet over. “I thought they’d been quiet in the groupchat, but—I didn’t think something was wrong. Do you know anything?”
Takashi is in the unfortunate position of knowing everything, actually. He’s been fending off worried classmates all day. He and Nishimura have been firmly amalgamated from pretty much the very first week they met. Tsuji and Sasada and Suzuki and Adachi all swarmed his desk the second Nomiya-sensei stepped away from the lectern, rightly assuming that if anyone could tell them where Nishimura was, Takashi could.
And he could. But he won’t.
Nishimura can barely stand to let his favorite people near him right now. He only grudgingly allows Kitamoto’s hovering because it’s Kitamoto. No one else has that built-in immunity. If one of their well-meaning class presidents showed up to offer their support, it might trigger a nuclear meltdown. Takashi has no idea what the fallout on that scale would look like and he has no desire to find out.
Still, he can’t just smile blandly at Tanuma until he goes away. Tanuma’s worry is personal and persistent, always carefully toeing the line between concern and outright anxiety. He’s already digging his phone out of a pocket to check his e-mails, probably for the fifteenth time today.
Takashi can’t just. Stand there and let him worry.
“He’s okay,” he blurts before he can think better of it. “I mean—something happened, but he’s okay now. Or—mostly. He will be. I promise.”
Tanuma stares at him, phone forgotten in his hand. Visibly unpacking what Takashi just dumped on him, his dark eyes wide and intent and much more clever than he usually gets credit for next to Taki and Shibata.
“Which ‘he’?” he finally asks.
Takashi winces, rubbing his mouth. He doesn’t know how much to say. He doesn’t want to betray anyone or leave anyone in the dark and he’s not sure where the gray area is.
“Nishimura,” he admits.
Tanuma’s expression turns pained. It’s hard to look at. He glances back down at his phone, at all the messages that have gone unanswered. His voice is a little softer when he adds, “But he’s okay?”
Behind him, Takashi sees Taki approaching them at speed. She doesn’t have class with any of them, and her hopeful eyes sweep the hallway around them eagerly for a sign of their missing friends. Then Takashi has to watch the way disappointment seems to make her shrink a few inches.
She was so lonely when Takashi first met her, and sometimes it’s easy to see that girl she used to be. When people talk over her, or her friends don’t show up, a glint of uncertainty ices out the usual warmth in her eyes.
Still, her voice is cheerful when she says, “Looks like half of my boys are accounted for! So where are the other two?”
“Absent again,” Tanuma says, smiling crookedly at her in greeting. “Natsume was just telling me that they’re okay, though.”
Taki perks up, turning beseeching tawny eyes on Takashi the way he’s utterly unequipped to deal with in any way that isn’t just immediately capitulating to her wants. He waffles for a second, uncertain—he’s never been the point of contact for anyone before, never been the middle-man within a group, because he’s never had a group, let alone one as well-tangled and constant as this one is.
Finally, he makes a decision, and hands Kitamoto’s make-up work back to Tanuma.
“We can drop it off together,” he says. His friends’ faces light up. Takashi makes a careful mental note to call ahead, just in case.
By now, Nishimura’s bruises are mostly yellow, laden with splotches of reddish-purple, and he’s stopping wincing when he moves around. He’s sitting on the floor in front in front of Mana, who is sitting on the sofa behind him doing something complicated with his hair and about a hundred brightly colored plastic barrettes. They’re bickering amiably over the TV Guide, while Kitamoto furiously scrolls through IMDb on his laptop, and all three of them glance up when Takashi, Tanuma and Taki step inside.
“I don’t want it,” Nishimura says fiercely, pointing at the homework packet in Takashi’s hands. “I’m seriously developing a Pavlovian response to seeing you bring me stuff.”
“I also brought you Chocorooms,” Takashi says pleasantly. They stopped at the combini on the way here specifically for the mushroom-shaped chocolates that are Nishimura’s current favorite snack, because Takashi has recently discovered several new things about himself, and one of those things is that he’s not above bribery.
Predictably, Nishimura’s defenses crumble. He accepts the homework along with the Chocorooms, pops the candy bag open, and holds it up behind him so Mana can take a handful.
“Mushroom?” he asks Kitamoto.
“Just throw one at me,” Kitamoto says without looking up from his computer. Nishimura cheerfully pelts him with one, and Takashi is smiling when he picks his way between the two to sit beside Mana on the sofa.
It’s around then that he realizes Taki and Tanuma are still hanging back near the entry way. They haven’t moved a step past the kitchen, and Taki has a handful of Tanuma’s sleeve in a white-knuckled grip.
They’re staring at Nishimura. Nishimura, who looks so much better than he did Saturday night, who’s clearly being well-taken care of and well-looked after. But they don’t have that frame of reference, and his face is still a vivid sunset of colors, and there’s still that torn corner of his mouth that is puffy and scabbed over.
His friends are horrified. Taki is already crying.
“Will it hurt if I hug you?” she demands.
“No,” Nishimura replies, staring at his magazine. The sense of normalcy between him and his siblings doesn’t extend to Taki and Tanuma. There’s tension in his shoulders now, and a stubborn set to his mouth that says he will cause a scene if anyone asks him if he’s okay one more time.
But Taki just takes him at his word. She flies forward and collapses on him in a hug that looks more like a full-body tackle, wrapping her arms around his shoulders like he’s as solid as he’s always been, more than capable of holding her up and withstanding the force of her affection.
Nishimura thaws immediately, threading his arms around her middle and hugging back just as tight. It’s exactly what he needs from her; reassurance that the way she cares about him hasn’t changed.
Tanuma is slower to approach. He needs longer to process, and it’ll probably be days before any of that brand new pain leaves his eyes, but there’s no pity to be found in him. Of course there isn’t. Why would there be, when Nishimura has seen him at his lowest, too.
Nishimura was the one to kneel in front of him and hold his hands through that awful panic attack, months ago now. Afterwards, he made Tanuma drink cool green tea and eat dark chocolate until he stopped shaking, and stonewalled all of his attempts to apologize for himself, and bumped their shoulders together amicably as they finally made their way to the Fujiwaras’ house.
Everything about him had been steady, grounding, and familiar. Tanuma is probably remembering that, too, because by the time he sits next to Nishimura, he’s packed all that hurt away, until nothing is left on his face but his usual warm, thoughtful self.
He bumps his shoulder into Nishimura’s, an echo of that afternoon, and Takashi watches a smile spill across Nishimura’s face. The first real, bright smile he’s seen on his face in days.
“You don’t have to tell us anything, but we’d like to know,” Taki says. She’s mostly sitting on Nishimura’s folded legs and shows no signs of moving any time soon. Her eyes are on whatever Mana is still doing to Nishimura’s hair, pretending as though all of her formidable attention is focused elsewhere, and not on whatever Nishimura might say.
“It’s not a big deal,” Nishimura replies noncommittally. “I guess you’d find out sooner or later, considering the number of times we crash at Natsume’s house in a given week.”
“Our house,” Takashi corrects quietly.
Tanuma darts a quick look at him. Taki hums in what sounds like mild interest, but her eyes, well above Nishimura’s head where he can’t see them, are round and moon-like with surprise.
“Yeah,” Nishimura goes on, his tone a bit more helpless now. “I guess so.”
“I’ll tell you one thing right now,” Kitamoto interjects, finally looking up from his computer, “Shibata’s gotta hear about all of this from somebody, and it’s not gonna be me.”
“Oh, no,” Tanuma says with feeling, and then he looks mortified to have said it out loud.
It’s enough to make the rest of them dissolve into laughter. Even Nishimura laughs, and from the look on Kitamoto’s face, Takashi isn’t the only one who’s missed that sound.
He reaches over to steal a chocolate mushroom out of the discarded bag. He didn’t know what was so special about them the first time he’d tried one, but they’ve grown on him since then.
#natsumeweek#natsume yuujinchou#natsume takashi#nishimura satoru#kitamoto atsushi#tanuma kaname#taki tooru#my writing#natsuyuu#natsuyuu fic#now that you dont have to be perfect#me: painstakingly researches candies for this chapter and nothing else
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TRICKY | silas & ari
TIMING: current.
PARTIES: @fermataheart & @letsbenditlikebennett
SUMMARY: silas & ari go to get a new front door for axis investigations.
CONTENT WARNINGS: none.
The drive to Axis Investigations felt like it took forever. At each red light, Ari’s fingers would nervously fidget against the steering wheel, not even in beat with whatever the radio was playing. She wasn’t even listening, but the silence felt too big. If she let it stay, her own tumultuous thoughts would fill it and crush her when she needed to keep it together. Silas was clearly panicking and she couldn’t blame him, internally she was scared shitless. She’d seen first hand the damage fae could cause. She could still hear the shot that killed Sammy all too clearly and remember the way Todd crumpled to the floor when they left Lydia’s, despite the fact the fae had already been dead. Depending on what Emilio was bound to do, just killing the fae could be worse and it made her stomach flip uncomfortably. The buildings in the Bend passed her by in a blur before she finally pulled into her normal parking spot at the office.
This would be so much easier if Emilio would just tell her what was going on. Despite the fact Ari hated reading, she’d read anything she could find on fae when she first started to get in her head she was going to save Sammy. She’d picked Athena’s brain plenty of times, if only the dumbass would actually let her help. At least Silas was keeping her in the loop even if Emilio wouldn’t. She rushed to the door that wasn’t there and cringed at the sight of how beaten up it was. Whoever was here was determined to get in, clearly. She frowned, but immediately began to sniff the area. There was something familiar there she couldn’t quite place. “Silas,” she called out in a hushed tone, knowing Emilio would probably try and kick her out.
—
Fingertips pressed against lips worried by teeth to the point of being bloody, healed, bloodied again, and healed again. Nails on the opposite hand, still partially blackened by chipped polish, dug into the palm. He could barely feel it, but at least it was something. It was something. Dark eyes stared out the window that faced the street, looking but not seeing, trapped behind a cloudy fog created in his own mind.
Without knowing who was doing this or why, Silas could only speculate. The details didn’t really matter, though—it seemed dangerous, and it had Emilio in just as bad a state as when he’d come home that night from… wherever the hell he’d gone. Emilio still hadn’t told Silas much about that, either, but the zombie had done all he could to be a calming presence for his friend. There was a limit, though, to how much he could take. Especially when he was being left in the dark like he was. This was very nearly reaching that limit.
The toe of his boot tapped impatiently on the floor, nervous energy jumping from foot to foot as he shifted his weight from one leg back to the other. His breath hitched in his throat at the sound of the elevator ding, head whipping to the side to look toward the front door… hole. Ari’s head poked in through the gap and the zombie nearly let out a groan of relief, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands to relieve the stinging as he crossed the room to meet her. “Hey,” he answered, matching her volume. His gaze fell to the door still hanging by a single hinge. “... yeah. Not great.”
—
There was no hiding that both of them were worried. Ari left her eyes on the hanging door for a moment. The effort someone put into being destructive had to be making some sort of point. It made her stomach continue to turn and her brows creased into a glare. The anxious energy was poking at the wolf and she wanted nothing more than to rip apart whoever did this. No one was being taken from her without a fight, not again. “Whoever did this didn’t care to be subtle, clearly,” she said with a grimace, “Which already makes me want to punch them.”
Ari shifted her attention back to sniffing without drawing Emilio’s attention. Her eyes fluttered shut as she fixated on placing why that smell was familiar. There was the smell of ocean air mixed with some sort of soap, there was a face appearing in her mind that she associated the smell with and her fists clenched at her side with her nails digging into her palms. Her hands itched to punch something, but she did tell Emilio she wouldn’t punch his walls. As her eyes opened, she muttered, “That motherfucker.”
She had to focus her breathing and point small items out around the room to bring herself back down. Ari could see the motivational posters that once covered a hole in the wall, a sad coffee maker on the counter, a mop that seemed to be in the center of the room like Emilio had wanted her to see it, an empty whiskey bottle, and the smelly couch. Once she knew she could speak without losing the very delicate grip she had on keeping the wolf at bay, she looked back to Silas and whispered, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll explain more in the car.”
—
His brows knitted curiously when Ari muttered under her breath, but Silas didn’t press for any more details as she beckoned him out of the apartment. Following her back to the elevator and down to the main floor, the zombie busied himself with pulling his hair back into a ponytail, desperate for any way to dispel some of the anxiousness that had him in a vice grip.
Emilio’s warning of caution scratched at the back of his brain as they stepped out into the daylight, his gaze immediately raking over their immediate surroundings as if he expected to see someone hunched over in the bushes, watching him. That uneasy feeling never left as they made their way to Ari’s van, and it wasn’t until he was perched in the passenger seat that he let his guard down somewhat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “Oh my god,” the musician drawled miserably, trying to get himself together before he looked back at Ari. “Who—you know who it is, don’t you?”
—
The pent up frustration and worry didn’t dissipate as they left the building. Ari was sure to keep an ear and nose out as they made their way to the van. If Levi were to show up right in this moment, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself. Every instinct in her was screaming for blood, but that wasn’t always the fix with fae. If Emilio wouldn’t tell her in what way he was bound to that fucker, she had no way of knowing the best plan of action, and she knew he wouldn’t tell her. She let out a shaky breath as she turned the key in the ignition and heard the familiar sound of her engine starting up. Her hands were already in a vice grip around the steering wheel as she answered, “I do, yeah. I knew Emilio and this dude didn’t like each other, but I didn’t realize it’s a fucking fae. Probably an ocean one because they smell beachy.”
Ari pulled out of the parking lot, more than ready to be away from Axis and nervous to leave all at the same time. She knew she would have to scope out the situation before any sort of plan was made. She turned the radio off this time, they had plenty to discuss and the silence wouldn’t feel like it was drowning her. “Their name is Levi, I had no clue they were fae. But, I know they’ve definitely stabbed each other before, so there’s that,” she explained though the wavering in her voice and the way her knuckles turned white around the steering wheel gave away her panic. “Fae are tricky,” she said finally, “Just killing them doesn’t always do the trick, especially not if there’s any sort of word binding involved.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the image of Todd crumbling to the ground flashed through her mind for the millionth time that day. “We have to– I don’t know yet, but we have to find out what Emilio is bound to do. If killing the fae would kill him too or not.”
—
Christ, how many enemies did Emilio have? That was probably a stupid question. Shaking his head, he could do little more than press a palm to his forehead in exasperation—that is, until she mentioned Levi. And stabbing.
“Wait a minute, Levi?” he asked as if needing confirmation. “Levi isn’t—he’s fae? Hang on, that doesn’t make sense.” Squinting his eyes shut, Silas tried hard to remember the conversation that had taken place all that time ago. Emilio warned him to stay away from Levi, warned him that he was a…
“Levi’s a demon. Or… that’s what Emilio told me. After the whole… stabbing incident.” He dropped his hand from his face, looking equal parts confused and annoyed. “So who the fuck is the fae?!”
—
“Emilio made it sound like there was another fae binding and I don’t think I smelled anyone else there,” Ari confirmed though her brows furrowed in confusion, “It did smell really beachy which Levi smells beachy, plus I could smell its soap. Don’t think Emilio sprung for a relaxing day on the beach and he uses Irish Spring.”
Was it possible that Levi came with someone else who also smelled like the ocean? Ari didn’t particularly like the thought of that, especially when Silas said Levi was a fucking demon. She had to consciously loosen her grip on the wheel because the increasing tension in her grip felt like it could break the damn thing. With her eyes straight ahead on the road, she let out a shaky breath. She didn’t like the sound of this. A fae being involved was bad enough, but a fae and a demon? She only barely knew enough about fae to be helpful, but demons? Outside of the ones she’d randomly come home to when living with Nell, she knew fuck all.
“A demon,” Ari said slowly as she tried to hide the still obvious dejection from her voice. Clearly he was some sort of sea demon, but she didn’t think the giant lobsters were able to make themselves look like a human man of all things. She needed to know more and it was obvious Emilio wasn’t about to spill the tea. “Did he say what kind of demon? That also explains why he referred to it as well… It. I thought he was just being rude. It’s gotta have a fae friend though.” Because of course a fucking fae would think a demon to be a great pal.
—
What kind? There were multiple kinds? “Not… not exactly. Said it was one his family had been after for a while, um… Levi’s short for Leviathan, I think.” Silas scowled. “But that can’t really be his name, right? That’s the bullshit that the priests hawk. Old testament shit. Plus the Leviathan’s, like, died a few times already, accordin’ to them. So… I don’t know, Ari. I’m so fuckin’ confused. This is way outta my wheelhouse.”
At least going to get a door was a simple enough task.
—
Just when Ari thought she stumbled into something she could help with that was actually a bit in her wheelhouse based on her experiences, life had to throw a curveball. She had the feeling Levi definitely wasn’t the kind of demon she was used to coming home to when she lived with Nell. More than anything, she wished Nell was here to get some insight from. She nodded as Silas spoke. “Leviathan and the old testament? That’s a start… and you’d be surprised. Definitely not the kind of demon I’m used to.”
Greg was a way better demon than Levi. It was just becoming more clear they were both in over their heads and Emilio was definitely in over his head. Ari knew they needed to find out more if there was any hope of helping Emilio even if his stubborn ass refused their help. She really wished she had Rio’s scribe books right about now. But if this demon was in common books like the fucking bible, she had to be able to find something. She could track it, too, find out what exactly it was up to. “We’ll see what we can find out, if it’s in the Old Testament, it’s gotta be in other books. I’ll see if I can find… I can’t believe this fucking town is making me read again.”
—
It was a start, sure, but Silas had been convinced for a long time that the bible was actually full of shit. If it turned out some of that shit was real shit, he was going to lose his mind. He could not give his parents that satisfaction.
“Unfortunately I happen t’know the Catholic bible pretty fuckin’ cover to cover,” Silas admitted, brows furrowed, gaze seeking the home improvement store that would provide them with a new door. “I think he’s got a whole book in the Satanic bible, but I couldn’t tell ya what’s in it.” Rubbing the back of his hand over his forehead, the zombie groaned. “I don’t wanna… look, obviously I can’t just sit around n’ do nothin’, but I also can’t go gettin’ myself in danger. I can’t do that to Emilio. So how about I do all the readin’, and you do... whatever it is you’re good at. Sniffin’.” He offered her a tired smile, breathing a sigh of relief as they pulled into the correct parking lot.
—
This was already feeling too big to handle. Ari couldn’t shake the thought that they were in way over their head. It was probably why Emilio was so intent on keeping them out of this. If this was that big, there was no way they could just leave him to fend for himself.
“I guess that’s at least coming in handy now. Still doesn’t sound fun though,” Ari bit out as she put the car in park. They were forming a plan, it was something. It just didn’t feel like enough and it definitely didn’t calm the swirl of nerves in her stomach. “Wait, this fucker is in the Satanic book too,” she grumbled, “Fucking hell.” She let out a sigh and nodded along with Silas. “I think that’s a good idea. I fucking hate reading, but I’m good at tracking and fighting… not that I’ll go alone. Not that I think I would d– But yeah, I’ve met Levi, I can track it down and get an idea of what its up to. I’ll bring my ranger friend with me.” Well, more like drag Kaden with her as an effort to get him out of his fucking apartment, but same difference. She took a final deep breath to calm her own nerves and finally said, “We can do this. Emilio’s gonna be okay.”
—
“Not fun is an understatement,” Silas laughed dryly, adding a defeated shrug and nod at Ari’s reaction to the Satanic bible. “Sure is. Popular guy.”
He was glad to hear she wouldn’t be doing any reconnaissance on her own, even if it did make him feel a bit guilty for not being able to participate. Or maybe it was just that he was too afraid to, maybe he was kidding himself with the Emilio excuse. This all felt insurmountably huge, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do to be useful, and that fucking sucked. “Good, yeah… not going alone is a good idea.” Unbuckling his seatbelt and putting a hand on the door handle, the zombie glanced over at his friend. She sounded pretty sure of herself, and even if she was just faking it, Silas wished he could mimic it. “Yep. Yep, gonna be.. yep. He’ll be fine.” Opening the door and climbing out of the van, Silas masked the quiet string of curses that seeped from him the moment his back was to Ari with the bang of the car door closing.
Emilio had to be fine.
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Gradelynovel - Chapter 565 - King Alexander's Requests nimble enter recommendation-p2
Amazingfiction The Cursed Prince - Chapter 565 - King Alexander's Requests dry pine recommend-p2
Novel-The Cursed Prince-The Cursed Prince
Chapter 565 - King Alexander's Requests tenuous apparatus
The Cursed Prince
Because they were the two males and recognized what it was prefer to adore a lady, he thinking California king Alexander would realize why he designed a real decision.
His phrases had been blunt and then laced with small accusation. Maxim needed to area Queen Alexander to accept his proposition simply by making him sense guilty of his wife's steps.
Ruler Alexander was currently wounded and didn't determine if he could reside for years. Would you proper care and safeguard Elise just after he was gone?
At some point, his time will come and he would depart this earth permanently. Well before he passed away, he would wish to see Elise identified her delight and still have another person to look after her and shield her.
Sooner or later, his time would come and that he would make this earth for a long time. Prior to he died, he would like to see Elise found her delight and get somebody to look after her and protect her.
"You will be prohibited to have any mistresses."
Just after staying muted for a long period, Master Alexander spoke.
"You will have a way with terms," Ruler Alexander commented. "You almost certain me."
Novel
Does his mom keep in touch with the Leoraleis and let them know almost everything? Then, perhaps California king Alexander would not like what Maxim have.
Novel
PPS: I also observed a youtube video that tells me of Mars and Snow, his horse. The resemblance is uncanny.. hahahah. Sorry, I cannot upload video lessons right here, I'll just submit the screenshots.. It is possible to pay a visit to my Instagram consideration to see it @missrealitybites.
Maxim stared back for the queen. His gaze was filled up with willpower.
Maxim furrowed his brows within the final obtain.
I don't know why, but writing this chapter was so tricky. I had maybe 5 many hours in order to publish this component. I will create even more for nowadays and then we can read how Emmelyn could see Harlow out of the magical golf ball.
The Cursed Prince
I don't know why, but writing this chapter was so difficult. I required perhaps 5 a long time merely to publish this piece. I am going to create much more for right now therefore we can read how Emmelyn could see Harlow out of the miraculous soccer ball.
Maxim stared back in the ruler. His gaze was filled up with resolve.
Did his mum keep in touch with the Leoraleis and inform them almost everything? In that case, might be Queen Alexander would nothing like what Maxim does.
will power meaning
"On account of your wife sought me to wed Elise so badly she got wrecked someone else's lifestyle to ensure it happen," Maxim responded genuinely. He, as well, spoke inside of a make any difference-of-factly sculpt. "The least you can do is permit me to stop this madness by marrying your little princess. Emmelyn has struggled plenty of."
The Cursed Prince
The elderly emperor nodded. "I have."
King Alexander cherished his little girl far too much to let her proceed through this type of daily life.
Immediately after Emmelyn and Myrcella left, there was silence on the dining area. Queen Alexander searched deep in believed. He still couldn't are convinced what his delayed spouse do well before she died. It was actually horrific and harsh.
King Alexander cherished his daughter too much to allow her move through this sort of existence.
The Cursed Prince
"My new mother preserved informing me how the Leoraleis will be the kindest persons she had ever met," Maxim persisted his words. "Frankly, it's so desperately to believe that now. Even so, I am just pleased to trust my mother's verdict and think that you may carry out the appropriate matter."
Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work
His silly child enjoyed this person before him now who just openly and boldly admitted he was deeply in love with another girl. If Elise read what Maxim just stated, she must be heartbroken.
.
Ruler Alexander was currently harmed and didn't determine he could are living for some time. Who will treatment and defend Elise following he vanished?
As he read the storyplot from his mom earlier these days, he could only retain silent. That was an issue that his better half normally wouldn't do since Catalina was a really sugary person. But maybe becoming a mommy evolved her? He didn't know.
"You might be prohibited to consider any mistresses."
He thinking it would be disrespectful to rest to California king Alexander because it means he thinking the older queen was foolish.
His thoughts ended up blunt and today laced with moderate accusation. Maxim needed to area Ruler Alexander to just accept his offer through making him sense liable for his wife's steps.
"Then, you must know I only want to see Emmelyn delighted," Maxim added. "I am just a selfish person, but after I became aquainted with her, I not worry about the thing i want - only what she wants. Her discomfort turns into my discomfort, and her pleasure will become my happiness. So... because her largest worry is definitely the curse, I wish to ease her fret so she could are living peacefully."
"Your Majesty," Maxim wanted to bust the ice cubes and convey what he acquired under consideration. "I have got thought about this plus i would like to question your authorization to get married to Elise."
Having said that, if Elise hitched this male, wouldn't she go through as well? Unless of course Maxim grew feelings for Elise, then it could be a one-sided romance and a loveless marital life.
Immediately after staying calm for a long period, Master Alexander spoke.
Ultimately...
"Then, you have to know I only desire to see Emmelyn happy," Maxim added in. "I am a selfish guy, but right after I attained her, I not any longer worry about the things i want - only what she wants. Her ache ends up being my pain, and her contentment turns into my joy and happiness. So... considering the fact that her biggest fret may be the curse, I want to minimize her get worried so she could stay peacefully."
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This is an Asra x fem!reader. NSFW for sure, porn WITH plot <3 this is my first post on tumblr so feedback appreciated.
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You walk through the dusty streets of the Market towards the palace. Hundreds of stalls loom up on either side, alive and vibrant with colors, smells, and tastes. It feels good to be back in the heart of Vesuvia.
You turn to look at Asra beside you, keeping your exhausted pace. It had been 8 days since Nadia had asked Asra and yourself to go check out some mysterious magic happenings on the outskirts of the city. You scoff to yourself, mysterious indeed, it took half the time to even track down the little pixie creatures causing ruckus and mayhem. Eventually, after some exhaustive spell casting and careful teamwork the two of you had managed to return the troublesome pixies to the proper magic realm they escaped from.
You yawn tiredly, loosening the emerald colored traveling scarf from around your neck. It was afternoon now, and the sun was beating down.
"Almost there now," Asra spoke up, breaking the silence. He looked fondly over at you, a smile lighting up his sun kissed face. Even so, you could see that the time away from home had taken its toll on him too. You were both more than ready to hit the hay.
You nod slightly, keeping back another yawn. "I hope Nadia has food for us, I'm starved." The villagers in the towns you had visited were kind and generous, but nothing could beat the delectable food that the palace prepared.
Asra chuckled, "I'm sure that right after we fill her in on the successful pixie management she'll immediately be tending to us like a mother hen. You know how she is, she loves to provide." He pushed back his curls from his face to wipe his brow of sweat, smiling as he too imagined the delicious array of food that was about to be offered. He picked up his pace at the thought, making you jog a bit to keep up.
The Palace gates soon loomed over the two of you, sparkling and gold in the summer sun. The guards at the gate looked up as you approached.
"Ah, the magicians! I trust everything went alright?" One asked, clearly recognizing the famous duo. He smiled warmly, maybe a little starstruck.
Asra returned his smile, "it was simply magical."
You rolled your eyes at the terribly overused pun as the guard gave a hearty laugh. The two of you were waved in and informed that the countess was waiting for you in the dining room.
"Oh even better," you groaned in appreciation. "We get to eat while we talk. I love Nadia." Your stomach growls in agreement. Asra flashes you a beautiful smile as his feet climb the stairs alongside yours.
"And clearly," he adds, "she loves us back!" He was particularly looking forward to some blue tongued skink, Nadia knew it was his favorite.
It only took a couple minutes to reach the dining hall. One of the servers was bustling out the moment You and Asra rounded the corner to the door.
"Oh, hello!" They said, giving a small polite now. "The countess is expecting you! Please, come right in." They moved aside, holding the large ornate door open with one of their hands.
You wink and whisper your thanks as the two of you make your way in. Immediately your mouth fills with saliva at the smell that filled the room. The table was large and being filled with platters of many foods of different origins. The gold dinnerware twinkled delightedly up at you and the red wine glimmered deep and inviting.
"Welcome, friends." Nadia opens her arms, rising from her chair. She had just been sipping on some pre-dinner tea while waiting for her guests. She was smiling, and looking absolutely magnificent in her shining purple and gold robes.
"Hello Nadi," Asra said, joining you and her in a quick hug before seating himself at the table. You follow, sitting beside him as Nadia resumes her seat. The servants bring the last platter of steaming dumplings out at that moment.
You sigh contentedly. "This looks amazing Nadia, I feel spoiled."
Nadia smiles, the faintest blush on her high cheeks. "Anything for my favorite magicians, willing to travel far and wide in aid of Vesuvians in need." She adores, raising her wine glass. "To my dear friends, what I would do without you, I wouldn't know."
You and Asra raise your glasses with her, each of your own cheeks now a healthy pink. Nadia declares the meal to begin and you all dig in.
"Oh my, what troublemakers!" Nadia declares, after hearing the story about the pixies. The food was being relished amongst every plate and the wine was flowing steadily. "I can't believe such tricky little creatures exists." She continues, eyes sparkling as she pours another cup of wine.
"Yes, well, the magic world is something else entirely." Asra laughs, relaxed and feeling full. He was lounging comfortably, one hand gripping your thigh, another holding his gold goblet. His skin was warm and aglow.
You had your own hand comfortably nestled in his snowy white locks, massaging slow circles into his scalp. It had been a long 8 days and you were both happy to finally be able to relax into each other while having pleasant conversation.
"You should have seen the way they caused mischief," you add. “Oh I felt terrible for that village. So many upside down cows to turn over." Asra smiles as you tell the story, closing his eyes and leaning into your gentle touch. It was, to put it simply, the best feeling he could imagine. Well, almost.
Nadia chuckles again. "Well, I'm just glad that they are gone and we can laugh about this." She says, sighing in slight relief. "Vesuvia is fortunate to have two talented magicians like yourself. I am fortunate to have you as my friends. Your well deserved payment is in your guest room."
Asra blinks, "oh, you're offering us a place to stay tonight?" He asked, the gratefulness clear in his tone. You couldn't help but agree, walking back to the shop did not really sound like something either of you wanted to do. Especially, you muse, lifting your glass to your lips, after how many wine jugs the three of you had emptied.
"Why of course," Nadia looks surprised that we even had to ask. "And," she continued, "use of my personal bath this evening. You two more than deserve some relaxation and.. fun." She ends her sentence after a slight pause, giving you both a side glance full of humor.
You feel your cheeks go slightly hotter at the obvious suggestion. However, embarrassment aside, nothing else sounded better right now. You look down at your lover who was now lounging against your lap and smile. Oh how far too long it had been, the pixies had been relentless and had not offered much down time.
Asra chuckles, clearly more comfortable with the suggestion. He always had been a bit more confident when it came to discussing your private life. You found it quite endearing.
"Oh Nadi," he smiles. "You just made this evening even better somehow. I can't wait to take my love there and-"
Nadia waves her hand, laughing at your horrified face. "Please, please, I certainly don't need to know details." She grins, "just go, and take the wine."
Asra didn't need more encouragement and sat up promptly. He looks down at you, a shadow of hunger in his lilac eyes, offering you his hand. You take it, biting your lip as his gaze continues to rake over your body in the sort of way that makes you squirm.
"Thank you, Nadia." You say breathlessly, and a little sheepishly.
Nadia smiles, "anytime." She says, laughter still ringing in her voice. "Now go, before Asra here makes love to you on this table."
Your eyes open wide, shocked to hear her say such dirty words before ducking your head down in embarrassment.
Asra rests his hand on your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear, "you heard the lady." His voice is sultry and thick with want. "The table is looking awfully inviting right now."
Quickly, you turn and head out the door, Asra following close behind. The bath is not far down the hall and the two of you make great time. Asra's hand is at your waist, pressing in such a way that you know means desire. You hadn't realized how badly he had been missing you.
You make it to the door and turn to look back at your lover. You gulp at the hot scene behind you. Asra's eyes are half-lidded, purple irises cloudy with lust. His shirt is already half unbuttoned, revealing his delicious golden tan skin, smooth and beautiful. He's looking at you in a way that makes you think he hasn't eaten in a week and you are a five course meal.
He closes in, pushing you against the door and reaching for the handle. "You're terribly slow," he says, voice already rough, desire prominent. He pushes the handle and the latch clicks, the door swings in behind you.
The two of you tumble into the sweet smelling room. Obviously Nadia informed a servant ahead of time of the use of this room because the bath was already filled and steaming. On top of the water pink rose petals float, filling the area with a soft floral scent.
Asra closes the door with a soft click and looks over his shoulder at you. "Oh my dear," he murmurs, taking the couple strides to wrap you up in his strong arms. "I've missed hearing you cry my name, kissing those lips, and feeling your skin." His fingers travel up your waist and over your stomach. They linger, just a moment at the swell under your breast before finally cupping your face in his hands.
You tremble under his touch, body suddenly aching with need. You bring your own hands up to his chest and splay your fingers out so you can feel his heart beating. It's fast and erratic, excited to be close to you.
"Sweetheart," Asra whispers, voice heady. It's intoxicating to hear him talk to you in such a way. You look up at him and catch him licking his lips. You bring your own up to meet his, tongue out to capture his. He groans, melting into the kiss, gripping your hair so tightly it's almost painful.
You gasp, mouth opening and he runs his tongue along your lips, tasting the wine you both had shared. "Delicious," he says against your skin, tasting more and more. His hot open mouth kisses travel from your lips to your cheek, jaw, and finally resting on your neck. Asra loves to leave marks, and he takes your skin between his teeth intending to do exactly that.
Your moan comes out hoarse and you feel heat starting to pool between your legs. They feel shaky and weak, unable to withstand such torment.
Asra steadies you and pulls back briefly, cheeks flushed hot, want written all over his face. "We," he states, "are wearing far too many clothes for a bath."
You laugh and take his shirt in your hands. "I agree," you say, pulling at the remaining buttons. They come free easily and soon a glorious, shirtless Asra is standing before you. You drink in the sight unashamedly, totally enthralled with your lover. Gradually, though slowed by each other's groping hands, you both end up undressed.
Asra grabs your thighs and hoists you up onto his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your breasts into his soft skin. He groans appreciatively, nuzzling his face into your chest breathing deeply, and walks the two of you over to the edge of the bath.
The water is still very warm as it licks your skin. You jump in surprise and moan slightly as it overtakes your aching folds and up over your ass. "Ahh-" you sigh, slumping into the crook of Asra's neck. "This is so good."
Asra hums his agreement before taking your chin between his fingers and directing you too look at him. His eyes are swimming with love, need, and an absolute desire to ravish you. You swallow hard, unable to look away.
"I want you." He says simply, barely above a whisper. He maneuvers your body so your back is against his chest. You lean your head back into him and relax in the fragrant water. Asra snakes his left arm around your waist and trails his fingers from your belly button downwards.
You bite back a squeal as his trained fingers circle the small nub at the top of your slit. He adds pressure, rubbing you in a manner that makes you crazy. Your hips wiggle back and you feel him, hard and straining, pressing into your ass. His breath hitches only for a second before he leans down to pepper soft kisses on your neck and shoulders.
His other hand makes it’s way up to your right breast and he expertly rolls your perked nipples between two fingers. Your whole body shudders in response to his actions.
“Ah, fuck Asra,” you choke out, moving your hips to meet his fingers as he slides them down your slick towards your now dripping hole. He wastes no time plunging two in, enjoying the feeling of your walls tightening around him.
Asra lifts his lips from your skin and brings his mouth to your ear. “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you. Pretty and wet for my fingers, aching to be filled.” He curls them as he says that, relishing in the soft gasps that fall from your trembling lips.
You groan as he licks the shell of your ear, hot breath teasing on the sensitive skin. “You,” your voice falters a second as Asra’s fingers continue to explore your insides in a way that makes you grip his strong thighs on either side of you. “You are ready for me too.” You finally gasp out, finding the strength to grind back against Asra’s swollen cock. You knew if you could see it, it would be an angry red and leaking precum, desperate to be buried to the hilt inside of you.
Asra’s breath comes out in a short gasp that makes you smirk in satisfaction. At least you still have a little control left. That thought flies out your brain a second later when Asra pinches your nipple hard then twists, making you cry out in painful pleasure.
“Watch yourself, my love.” He coos playfully, no remorse in his words. You grit your teeth, taking in the torture that both of his skilled hands are laying upon you. You know what he wants, and it is oh so tempting to give in. You’re almost at war with yourself as your back arches on its own accord in rapt pleasure.
“Oh please, please.” You finally break, body shaking. You reach your arms back and thread your fingers through Asra’s fluffy locks before gripping hard. “Asra please fuck me already.” You plead, unable to care anymore that you were begging.
You feel Asra’s fingers slow to a stop inside you and then remove themselves. You almost groan in disappointment but you know better.
Asra flips your body around so you’re straddling his hips. You gasp when suddenly you’re faced to face with your beautiful lover. He looks positively stunning, the soft moonlight coming in from the high windows bathing him in a pearlescent light. His skin is glowing with a cool sheen, and his breath is leaving parted lips shallowly. Not to mention, his hard cock straining against your stomach, just begging for attention.
You bring your hand down and rest your index finger lightly on the slit. Asra shudders at the touch, but certainly not complaining. He’s slick, just as you expected, and you lightly circle his tip.
“You go on and on about how ready I am.” You tease, “but look at you, practically cumming into my hand already.” You lift your fingers and bring them to your mouth, tasting his salty sweetness. Asra’s diet is rich with fruit and vitamins, and oh how you loved how he tasted as a result.
Watching you lick your fingers coyly has Asra’s eyes drooping with lust. “My dear, oh my love,” he whispers. “How I am going to fuck you until I fill you with that cum you love so much. Because it’s true, you love it don’t you.” He says, voice sugar sweet, expecting an answer.
You blush, despite your best efforts. You look at him, but he only blinks in return, waiting.
“Yes,” you whisper, voice thicker with need than you realized. You give up trying to be bashful. “Yes, yes. I love your cum, how it tastes, how it feels when you fill me up. I want it so bad.” You beg, looping your arms around his neck so your lips are just inches apart. “You have my heart, soul, and body.” The words tumble out naturally, “and gods, do I need you now.”
Asra bites your bottom lip harshly before fully overtaking your mouth with his. He’s moaning, almost desperately, into you. “I love you, my dearest one.” He pants, gripping your ass with his hands. You feel your hips being lifted up and your body quakes knowing what’s coming.
You feel the tip of Asra on the heat of your slit and you sigh deeply, “I love you too, Asra.” You say, bending your neck so your head rests on his muscular shoulder. Your lips find a sweet spot on his neck, an anchor, as he lowers you down onto him. It’s tantalizingly slow, allowing you to feel every inch as you sink lower in the water until he’s fully sheathed in you.
“Oh gods,” Asra groans, both from feeling you pulse around him and from your playful lips on his neck. “You are a gift to me.” He says, breathless from the feelings.
You smile, in delight from your lovers sweet words. Slowly and carefully you lift your hips up, at the same time dragging your tongue up his smooth neck to his ear. You suck and nibble on the lobe as you find your rhythm, bouncing steadily on the thick shaft. He feels absolutely amazing in you, filling you perfectly.
Asra grips your butt underwater with his strong hands and leans his head to the side, giving you better access. He guides your hips to a steady pace, humming appreciatively when you comply. “It has been far too long since I’ve felt your sweet pussy squeezing me like this.” He says, without skipping a beat.
You don’t have time to blush before he picks up the pace, leaving you moaning loudly into his ear as he hits the spot that makes you crazy. “Ah fuck, I agree, I do agree.” You manage, finally finding the words.
The water sloshes around your two bodies, stirring the rosy scent into the air. It’s smells amazing and makes you dizzy with pleasure as every sense seems to be met. Asra huffs gently next to your ear, holding you tightly against his body.
You savor the feelings of your chests sliding against each other, the feeling sleek from the warm water and sweat mixing. Your hips meet his, snapping against each other with quick splashes, making you see stars as he hits every time the spot that has you go wild.
The muscles in your lower stomach tighten and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re screaming Asra’s name for the whole palace to hear. “Baby,” you say breathlessly, kissing any skin you can reach. His cheek, the corner of his eye, his plump lips. “I’m going to cum.” You whisper into his mouth. He swallows your delicious words and licks your lips in response.
“I love when you do that,” he says, a slight chuckle in his words. He wraps his arms tightly around your middles before bringing his hands up to your shoulder blades and raking his nails down your spine. You shudder at the erotic feeling and arch your back against his hands. He sighs happily when you give him access to this gorgeous view, stretched out before him, stomach and tits shining gloriously in front of him. He puts his mouth on your bellybutton and licks up to the cavity between your breasts.
“Oh mmm,” he hums, pleased with the sweet taste of your skin. “You are a delicacy amongst gods.”
You flush looking down at his lustful face, sucking on your skin, leaving marks where only he will see. He latches on to one of your nipples, moaning in immense pleasure at the feel of it in his mouth. When he nips at the sensitive skin you jolt, a small disruption in the steady bounce of your bodies.
“Damn,” you curse, words choking in your throat. Your nails dig into Asra’s shoulders as he re-establishes the torturing rhythm that has you shaking desperately against him.
“Let go for me,” he suggests in a sultry whisper that has you reeling with a feverish desire. The pressure in your core is building at an alarming rate as Asra thrusts into you, filling you every time to the point where you can barely hang on.
“I-“ you falter, eyes rolling as you feel that familiar tingle across all your limbs. Oh gods, you can’t stop it now. “Asra, oh fuck, ASRA-!” You scream head thrown back. Your walls clench, and the knot comes undone. It’s amazing, you almost want to laugh in pleasure at the feeling of coming around Asra’s cock. It’s so good you almost forget to breath.
Asra curses under his own breath as he fucks you through your high, barely holding on himself. You bring your head back down and kiss him deeply, tongue joining his. It’s a short lived battle to hang on and in a flurry of short gasps you feel him cumming inside you, unable to stop himself from the uncontrollable waves of pleasure that come from your hot walls clenching around him.
You both continue to kiss each other lovingly, slowing down gradually until you’re sitting on his lap. Eventually, you pull away a couple of inches, looking into your beloved’s eyes.
“Hello,” you say, smiling at your favorite magician. Asra’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, looking at you through hazy eyes. He kisses you again, gently, pleasantly.
“Hello,” he returns, after a minute. He runs his hands up your back, massaging as he goes. “You,” he adds lovingly, “are so beautiful.”
You smile adoringly. “Thank you, Asra.” You remove yourself from his lap and wade through the water towards the collection of bottles on the wooden shelf nearby. You grab a few that you felt suited the two of you best and turned to your lover. Asra had lifted his arms to rest on the sides of the bath and was looking at you with admiration.
“May I wash your hair?” You ask setting down the bottles, but keeping a lilac scented shampoo for Asra. He smiled at you, his face soft and kind.
“That would be amazing, my love.” He said, leaning his head back into the water to dampen it. You squeezed some of the lovely smelling shampoo into your hand and waited. Asra emerged a moment later and kissed you adoringly on the nose.
“Thank you,” he breathed. “For always taking care of me.”
You kissed him back, a peck, before turning him so his back was facing you. You rub your hands into a lather before working them into Asra’s soft hair.
“I always will, forever.” You say softly, happier than ever.
#asra alnazar#asra x reader#the arcana#arcana smut#asra smut#asra lemon#lemons#asra is so hot#I love him#lys writes
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𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖𝕤
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ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Bucky gets hit with that god awful (but really hot) sex pollen. (this was requested)
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Dub-Con/Non-Con as per usual with sex pollens fics (although i try to write them as consensual as possible :T) Smut obvi (18+ minors dni), slight daddy kink, age gap?, public male masturbation; it's brief but still
TW: very brief mention of possible suicide
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hot
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“Where are those daisies we collected from the last mission?” Tony asked you, eyes staying glued to the hologram in front of him.
“I left them on the quinjet. Fury said to wait for transportation until Shield confirms safety. It’s literally in a glass case, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, making the older man laugh.
“Just protocol, kid,” he snickered.
Meanwhile Bucky sat with Steve eating lunch, chatting it up like old men do.
“So what did you bring back from the last mission? I saw a bunch of agents in hazmat suits,” Steve said sipping his coffee.
“Uh, well Thor said we should bring some plants back for research, but it seems like a bunch of normal lookin’ daisies,” Bucky shrugged.
“Y/n loves daisies,” Steve smirked.
“Ok?”
“And you love Y/n,” Steve teased.
“No I don’t-”
“Hey boys!” you skipped past the kitchen.
“Y/n,” Bucky said standing up with a big goofy smile on his face.
“Where ‘ya going?” Steve asked with a chuckle.
“Quinjet. Fury gave us the go to start doing tests on that plant you brought the other day,” you smiled lightly jogging to the runway.
“Why don't you ask her on a date, Buck,” Steve nudged.
“Come on, she’s way too smart to go out with a dumbass like me,” Bucky joked.
“Seriously.”
“I don’t know. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another woman. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Wha- what’s even the first I’d say to her?”
“I don’t know, man. I’m on the same boat with you. Just… Tell how nice she looks today when she comes back.”
“Really?” Bucky asked skeptically.
“Yeah, be nice to her.”
“I am nice to her.”
“I mean be extra nice. Flatter her,” Steve told him, “Go wait in the lab until she comes back and tell her she looks pretty today.”
“Isn’t Tony in the lab?” Bucky asked.
“Ha ha, yeah,” Steve teased, patting his back before leaving to his room.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony mumbled seeing Bucky waltzing in the room awkwardly.
“Nothing,” he mumbled back.
Tony dropped his hands and stared at Bucky with an unimpressed look on his face. Everyone but you knew about Barnes’ little boy crush on you but he’s never had the balls to say anything. You were close to Tony and seeing as though he doesn’t particularly like Bucky, he didn’t want you hanging around him. But you were an adult so of course you hung out with whoever you wanted.
He was sure you liked him back too which never ceased to make him roll his eyes.
You walked back from the quinjet with the glass container of daisies. You weren’t exactly a plant expert but it was apparent that these daisies were mutated seeing as though the pollen swirled around the flowers gracefully. It was beautiful but then again they might be extremely dangerous considering it was a Hydra experiment.
“Hey Y/n, off to the lab again?” Steve smiled.
“Yup, gotta check these babies out according to Thor; said they might be dangerous if they’re what he thinks they are,” you said, still walking.
“And what’s that?” you just shrugged at his question unsure of the answer yourself.
“Well, Bucky’s waiting for you in the lab,” he slipped in the conversation.
“Really? Why’s-” Crash!
“Oh no,” Tony mumbled, seeing the collision in action.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.
“No, no. I should be sorry. Here let me help,” bucky knelt to the ground grabbed the fallen daisies with his bare hands.
“No! Don’t touch-” Tony shouted practically sprinting towards you two.
The golden pollen swirled in a misty manner engulfing Bucky completely. You stared with furrowed brows confused at the sight before you and what was going on. Bucky’s skin began to burn and his senses were being overloaded. All he could smell in that moment was you; the same scent that he got a whiff of this morning when he hugged you, the perfume and the shampoo that filled his senses when you walked passed him.
Tony pushed you out of the lab roughly throwing you in Steve’s arms who was just as confused.
“FRIDAY,” Tony called out.
“Yes, Mr. Stark,” the familiar voice answered.
“Lock all the doors to the lab and maybe turn on the a/c,” he commanded.
“Of course, Mr. Stark.”
All the glass walls and doors instantly shut and locked, locking Bucky inside. Bucky’s eyes found your and slammed his body against the glass desperately trying to reach you. You too ran up to the glass wall trying to understand what had happened to him. Everything was happening so suddenly.
Your forehead was pressed against the glass as was Bucky’s; both of you staring into each other’s eyes momentarily. In that moment, you could see his eyes turn golden for a quick second before his pupils dilated ridiculously before your eyes.
“Is he going to be ok?” you turned away.
“Y/n! Please!” Bucky’s muffled screams shocked you.
“Uh… where’s Thor?” Tony panicked.
“What the hell is happening?” Nat asked; Sam, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind closely.
“Nat,” you ran to her.
“What happened to Bucky?” Same asked.
“He- I ran- I ran into him by a-accident and the box dropped. There was mist everywhere and Bucky's eyes. His eyes,” you stammered breathlessly.
“Please! I need her!” Bucky hit the glass in an attempt to break it.
“Oh my goodness,” Wanda gasped at the sweaty Bucky hitting and practically going feral.
“Oh god, is he gonna be ok?” you teared up. This is your fault, dammit.
“I can asure he will experience no physical harm,” Thor’s voice made all of you turn around.
“Just physically? What the hell does that mean?” Sam argued.
“Well, uh… I’ve never actually seen it’s effects in person. Especially not on a Midguardian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes grew big.
Nat snapped her head, eyes widening as well. Bucky with absolutely no shame held his hard dick in his hands pumping it with his eyes trained on you. You went to turn around seeing nat’s expression but she covered you eyes before you could actually see the lewd behavior Bucky indulged in.
“What’s happening?” you asked holding onto Nat as she led across the room.
“Nothing, they’re gonna take care of Buck. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.
You sat in your room bouncing your leg as the movie on your TV played. Every now and then Bucky would moan and cry particularly loud making all of you wince and cringe. But your mind felt foggy simply thinking about Bucky and his safety; especially that moment when his eyes went from confusion to you don’t even know what. Hunger? Desire? Lust?
Whatever it was, it made your tummy flutter.
“Steve, any news on Bucky?” Steve stood at the doorway with a worrisome face that did nothing to ease your already panicked nerves.
“Well, as far as Thor knows the plant that was mutated with the daisies was pollen extracted from a breeding plant common among other galaxies; for species that can’t… reproduce like we do. The pollen enters the system and targets the nociceptors causing excruciating pain without physical harm. If untreated the victim can reach a traumatic state and truthfully, they will do anything to stop the pain; even kill themselves.”
“What the hell does any of that mean?” Sam grunted.
“It means the tin man is painfully horny,” Tony interrupted.
“Are you fucking serious?” Sam said in disbelief.
“What’s the cure?” Nat said.
“Oxytocin, of course,” Tony said.
“The cuddle hormone,” you whispered.
“Yup. Banner and I are already working on a serum containing artificial oxytocin in hopes to minimize the pain or even better cure him completely. We-”
“I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit more complicated than that,” Thor interrupted Tony.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, see the pollen, it’s a little tricky. The oxyputin-thingy you mentioned…”
“Oxytocin,” Tony clarified but Thor didn’t care too much.
“I don't think artificial love is going to cure the boy. If you want results, he needs to be the one he desires most. That’s where you’ll get your oxy-pudding.”
“Oxy- You know what, we can figure this out without anyone needing to have sex,” Tony groaned.
“Tony, maybe we shouldn’t-” you started.
“Nope, we can do this. We’re science bros,” Tony stormed away like a child.
“Isn’t your lab being ‘occupied’,” Nat called out.
“Shit!”
-
Hours went by and the oxytocin experiments were clearly a fail. The first dose did nothing. The second also nothing. The third relieved him for only ten seconds before he went back to his painful state. Since then, they haven’t been able to help or relieve Bucky’s circumstance any longer.
You thought about Thor’s words, about how the one he desires most could cure him. A ping of jealousy struck your heart but you knew you to find the woman Bucky loved and just pray that she'd help him. You made your way back to the lad area where Tony and Bruce had their new makeshift set up while the lab was locked down.
“Tony, this is ridiculous. It’s been going on for too long. You heard what Thor said about what happens when it gets too much,” you begged.
“And what do you suggest we do?” Tony said angrily.
“We need to find the woman that Bucky loves so she can help him,” you argued back.
“It's not just some woman, Y/n! He wants you.”
“What?”
“All the bastard’s been doing for the past eight hours has been masterbating while moaning your name. I’m not putting you in that situation,” Tony yelled.
You couldn’t speak. Was he telling you the truth? Did Bucky want you like that? The same way you secretly wanted him? It’s not like you haven't thought about what being with Bucky would be like before. He was perfect; so handsome and charming.
You ran back to your room where the rest of the guys still were practically out of breath; your heart hammering out of your chest and your stomach fluttering like it does whenever you think about Bucky.
“I need to get to Bucky,” you panted out.
“What?”
“Please you guys need to help me. Tony said that Bucky wants me; I mean can you believe. A guy like him wanting me? I’m just… nobody. He’s way too out of my league and-”
“Y/n, focus,” Nat said.
“Right. I- I want to help him. I know I can.”
“Y/n, we don’t know how dangerous this is. I mean, it came from Hydra, this could be weaponized and you could get hurt,” Steve argued.
“Bucky could never hurt me,” you whispered; Nat looked at you softly, understanding the situation better realizing you were probably Bucky’s only chance of a cure.
“You’re not actually considering letting her do this are you?” Steve scolded Nat.
"Are Tony and Bruce making any progress?" she sighed.
"They haven't been to even relieve his pain for longer than ten seconds," you whispered.
"Steve, this is Bucky we're talking about. Hasn't he endure enough torture in his life?" Nat said softly.
That seemed to convince him. Seeing Bucky in so much pain like he had been only years ago was unfair, especially when they technically already knew a cure. Waiting this out was pure evil at this point.
"How do you suppose we go about this?" he asked.
You devised a plan in order to let Bucky from the lab; he'd find his way to you on his own. Wanda stood from afar using her powers to tamper with the equipment. Tony frustratingly would have to run across the compound to the conference rooms to grab new devices in order to continue with his notes and tests.
On his way back, Steve and his convincing and charming ways would stall Tony's return asking him all sorts of questions about Bucky's state. Meanwhile, Thor made up some excuse to lure Banner away just for a minute so Nat and Sam could override the lockdown through Friday and free Bucky.
All the while you sat in your room waiting anxiously for Bucky to barge through the door and have his way with you.
A few minutes went by and no sign of a ruckus you'd assume would accompany the escape plan. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt biting your lip in anticipation. Still no sign after a couple more minutes. Wanting to make sure you still looked alright for Buck, although he'd probably not even acknowledge your appearance, you stood up to walk to your bathroom.
Just as you stood up, Bucky in all his muscle and broad glory slammed the door behind him staring at you with nothing but desperate hunger. Your stomach flipped when you saw him lock the door, pushing a small chair you had just next to it in front of the door under the handle.
He stalked towards practically panting and you took in his appearance. His hair was quite disheveled and sweat lined his forehead and slightly down his neck. Despite that, he still looked so handsome and sexy.
"маленький, all dressed up for me to ruin," he growled crawling up the bed as you crawled back.
"Buck, are you ok? I want to help you," you whispered.
"I'm more than ok now, beautiful," he whispered leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours, chuckling when you visibly trembled.
"Is my красивый маленький ангел gonna let me use her?" he whispered, huskily.
"Bucky, I don't understand what you're saying."
"так драгоценно," he whispered against your lips before pressing himself completely against you.
His hands, contrast between hot and cold, crept under your shirt brushing lightly over your delicate skin. You had somewhat expected Bucky to have no control and use you relentlessly, of which you wouldn't have minded, but this soft ginger foreplay was really making your panties wet.
Bucky slowly lifted the shirt from your body before tossing it to the side and removing his own. His hands cupped your breasts squeezing the soft flesh quite roughly making you sigh and moan at the feeling.
His lips attached themselves to your neck biting and sucking harshly littering your skin with dark purple marks. He nibbled on your ear as he grinding his pelvis against yours, his large erection poking your center making you even more aroused.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you. It smelled just like you," he whispered.
"T- The daisies?"
"I've been craving you, aching for you. Thinking about how good you're gonna feel wrapped around my cock," he panted speeding up his grinding thrusts.
"Buck," you breathed out.
Bucky shuddered over you before stilling for a moment. He couldn't help it, your scent, your warm skin pressed against his, he couldn't hold back anymore coming straight away in his pants.
You brushed his hair softly soothing him from his high. You thought it was over, that he felt better and was finally cured but almost instantly you felt Bucky harden under you, poking between your thighs and you gasped knowing very well it was going to be a long night.
Bucky stood on his knees and pulled your bottoms down your legs nearly ripping the material. He too rid his bottoms throwing them god knows where before climbing back on top of you. You stared adorably up at him and Bucky almost came again. He smiled softly at you before kissing you once more.
Suddenly, loud bangs on your door startled you but not Bucky.
"What the hell are you doing!" Tony screamed.
"Tony, you gotta stop! This is the only way! It's not fair to him to let him keep suffering. He's done enough of that, ok?" Nat shouted.
"She's gonna get hurt," Tony sighed.
"No she won't. This was her idea."
Tony looked back teary eyed. He really cared for you as his own and putting you in a situation like this wasn't fair to you either. He really tried to help but this was just too complicated and too advanced to solve in only a few hours. They were right, Bucky needed you as much as he didn't like that idea too much.
"Fine."
Bucky lined his cock with your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he pushed in pulling moans from you both. You've only had a couple lovers previous to Bucky but neither of them ever filled you so perfectly. Bucky stretched you out like none other and admittedly he wanted to use his fingers on you first but he'd been away for too long it was too painful to go another second without being inside you.
"So tight and warm, little one. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me."
"Buck," you moaned.
You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you as you kissed along his neck and jaw. Bucky moaned breathlessly in your ear and you couldn't help the clenching around him from arousal.
"Fuck, keep doing that, little one," he groaned.
Toy squeezed your thighs together and clenched around him again making him groan louder this time. His thrusts became sporadic and you moved against like a ragdoll unable to keep up with his relentless pace.
Your legs began to shake and your back arched into his chest reaching you first high of the night, gushing all over his cock. You realize he hasn't come and gently push him off you before flipping over to let him take you again from behind.
As expected, Bucky pushed into once again deeper this time and you shuddered under his hand that rested atop your arched back. Bucky smacked and kneaded your ass thrusting in and out. The lewd squelching sound of his thrust mixed with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room.
"Shit, little one. Taking my cock so fucking well," he reached forward and bunch up your hair pulling your head back harshly.
“Shit,” you mumbled.
Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets as hard as you could. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you weren't going to be able to hold back any longer. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock making him throw his head back in pleasure.
"Please, Bucky," you whimpered.
"You wanna come, darling. You wanna cream all over daddy's cock?"
"Yes! Fuck!" your arms shook before giving out completely; your head buried in the sheets as Bucky continued that same wild and rough pace.
"Please let me come, daddy!"
Your body felt on fire. No one has ever made you feel this good before, it was almost too much, too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes from trying to desperately hold back. You wanted to come with Bucky but seeing as his pace had yet to slow down you were beginning to think he wasn't even close.
"Let go, doll."
Your body squirmed beneath him as you released all over his dick. You came with a near shout, your body violently trembling from the intensity of your high. Bucky slowed his pace for your comfort, gently riding your orgasm slowly down despite his still aching erection.
He languidly rolled you over to your back, his hands softly rubbing your sides up to your breasts. You breathed heavily, eyes feeling droopy, all you could feel in that moment was his cum dripping from you onto the sheets.
Bucky, still knelt on the bed and still chasing his release, lifted your legs over his thighs gripping your hip with one hand and his cock with the other. You squeezed your thighs together when you felt his tip poking at your entrance once again, soft whimpers emitting from you shakily.
"Such a good girl. Gonna let me take you again? Gonna let me keep using you?" he moaned.
"Use me, Buck. I'm all yours," you breathed out.
Bucky pushed himself past your folds once again, your cum easily letting him slide in. Both his hands made home on your hips gripping hardly surely to leave marks for you to remember this very moment. You looked at Bucky as his thrusts slowly began to pick up, bringing your own hands to your breasts to play with your nipples. You twisted the perked buds, moaning softly at the feeling as well as Bucky filling you perfectly once again.
"Filling me up so good, baby," you moaned, arching your back slightly allowing Bucky to hit a newer and deeper angle inside you.
"Pussy was fucking made for me," he growled.
His hand moved from its home on your hip right over your lower belly where he could feel his cock so deep poking his own hand through your tummy.
"Feel how fucking deep I am?"
You moved your hand and he pressed yours in the same spot under his and you moaned loudly, shuddering under him.
His pace quickened and for a moment he thought he was going to finally reach his high, that release he'd been thinking about for hours today, but when he felt you clench again, squeezing his cock tightly and he didn't cum, he knew it was gonna be chase that he didn't know you'd be up for. You gushed all over his dick, back arching and your legs pressing tight around his torso, coming with a loud scream of his name.
Bucky fell forward with tears in his eyes. His skin still felt hot and sticky. His sense felt dialed up to an eleven. It was all so overwhelming and all he wanted was to cum in you and hold you closer whispering how he really loved you. He pressed faint kisses to you equally sticky and warm skin and when you felt warm liquid dripping onto your skin to lift Bucky's head to find him crying.
"What's wrong, baby?"
“I can’t cum. I just wanna cum,” he whined.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I can go as many times as you need me to. I want to help you, let me do that.”
“Can- Can you uh… use your mouth please? I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so bad,” he moaned.
“Of course, baby. I’d do anything for you,” you smirked before pushing him and crawling over him holding his dick in your hand.
-
Hours and literally hours had passed until Bucky was finally tired out only having cum three times compared to the fifteen-plus times you had. Your bed laid on the ground; the wooden stands snapped about two hours ago. Most of your sheets were torn to shreds and marks littered your body from your neck down to your hips and your knees from, well you know.
Your body shook as you laid in a fetal position. You burned between your thighs; the soreness overwhelming but pleasant at the same time. Sweat made what was left of the sheets stick to your body until Bucky pulled them from you to clean you. He used a warm towel all over your body with tears in his eyes whispering how sorry he was about everything.
“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me now; if you never want to see me again. Just know that I’m so sorry about your bed, the blankets, if I hurt you, everything,” he sniffled, eyes and nose red and puffy.
“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice raspy and croaky from your moaning and screaming all night.
“Y/n,” he whispered back. You pulled him by the back of his neck into a soft yet passionate kiss.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out when you pulled away. You cupped his face with shaky hands but a smile on your face.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I’ve dreamt about holding you far too many times, more than I’d like to admit. I should’ve told you sooner but like everyone else, I was scared you didn’t like me back; at least not this way,” he rubbed your legs indicating the intimate love he had for you.
“Buck, it’s virtually impossible for anyone not to fall in love with you. Unless they’re Tony,” you giggled as did he.
“Can you say it?” he asked softly.
“That I love you?” you smiled brushing your nose against his; Bucky practically purred as he nodded.
“I love you, James,” you whispered.
“Fuck, I love you too.”
He laid you down softly again on the broken bed pressing light kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. You brushed his hair with your fingers as he clung onto you ready to sleep.
“Thank you again, doll. For helping me today,” he said after a couple minutes of silence.
“Of course, my love. Besides I’m the one who ran into you with those damn daisies.”
“Thank god for them then. And for your clumsiness,” Bucky chuckled.
“Meanie,” you snorted, making Bucky laugh even more.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Buck.”
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes smut#marvel smut#marvel fics#bucky barnes x you#sex pollen
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secret admirer hcs
albedo
It wasn't as though you were anyone special.
You had two eyes, two ears, two arms and two legs, possessing a single heart and a single stomach. A quick once over of your anatomy suggested you were entirely human—clearly, you didn't need a thorough examination just to surmise you were completely ordinary.
Still, Albedo couldn't bring himself to stop staring.
You were nothing of importance. Nothing like the fascinating creatures he observed on the daily, with unique traits and perplexing behaviors. No. You were a mere mortal with no extraordinary characteristics worth gawking over.
So why couldn't he stop looking at you, then?
(Actually, he knew the answer long ago. He was just too afraid to admit it.)
In spite of the rational part of his brain nagging at him to stop, he studied your figure in piqued curiosity regardless. To the small upward quirk of your lips when you smiled, to the slight furrow of your brow when you felt distressed. The faint sparkle in your eyes when you retold your bravest adventures, and the indistinct tremble of your shoulders when you tried your hardest to keep your laughter.
Yes, your grin of glee was a sight he'd definitely yearn to paint and keep as his greatest treasure.
(Sometimes, he worries if you had already noticed his incessant staring at your lips.)
He admired you, truly. You simply emanated warmth and kindness, subtly drawing people closer to your bright light, until it was too late when he realized his heart had been captured and he's in too deep to discard the blossoming affection blooming into the depths of his heart. It was most likely inevitable, he'd come to know—there was no escaping the feelings that stirred upon him.
And yet it was incredibly unfair how you stole his attention so easily. Your short expeditions left him concerned with each week that passed by without your return, and on the other hand, your nearby presence would heighten all of his senses. His heart would pound startlingly rapid—an actual cause for concern—and blood would rush to his cheeks, coloring it a rosy hue. He prided over his capability to keep a poker face at any given situation, but your mere gaze burning through his skin was enough to destroy the confidence he had and set his face aflame.
Love was... surprisingly frightening.
(But he didn't mind it. He welcomed the feeling. The simple joys of spending time with you was enough.)
He wasn't very vocal about his feelings. However, he wondered if you were aware of them. You should be—his gaze, whenever pinned on you, lingers a little longer than it should, and the smallest of smiles will habitually grace his lips once he spots you within town. Any mention of your name piques his interest, and the slightest grain of insult directed at your person will push him to grow irritated. Signs so devastatingly obvious that even Sucrose and Klee had figured him out, to which they proceeded to bug him about confessing his feelings. Unsurprisingly, his response to their suggestions was a cold, hard “no”—the time wasn't right for either of you.
That said, though Albedo preferred to keep his affections to himself for the meantime, he would never reject any opportunity to see you. Which was exactly why when he learned you would be partaking in a small exploration trip to Dragonspine, he didn't hesitate from “coincidentally” visiting the same area to conduct research of his own.
His (impulsive) decision wasn't a mistake. Far from it, really. He enjoyed seeing new sights with you, and he's guilty as charged for finding you endearing when you shyly asked for his coat to protect yourself from the chilly temperature. (And, well, no one would know his shameful daydreams about huddling for warmth with you by a fireplace.)
A glimpse of your caring nature would present itself whenever you'd come across a troubled fellow adventurer around the icy mountains, seeking urgent help. You don't hesitate to lend a hand, whether it was to defeat a particularly tricky monster or tend to severe injuries. You never quite stopped leaving Albedo at awe to the extent you'll go just to help someone in need. Not once did you lack the courage necessary to face such fearsome mobs, nor did you become any less selfless.
But sometimes, he forgets bravery can become recklessness, and kindness can result into a needless sacrifice.
So when you arrive at his makeshift workshop all battered and bruised, bleeding from your middle section, he shouldn't have felt as surprised as he had been.
Dread pooled at the pit of his stomach as Sucrose guided your limp body to a small bed, your blood visibly seeping through her clothes. “W-we were ambushed!” she informed him, tone frantic. “There were so many hilichurls, and ruin guards, and [Name] tried to protect everyone, but... but...!”
He rushed to check your current state, attempting to shrug you awake. Yet you were unresponsive, eyes still closed tightly, and worry pricked his gut.
But he didn't let it show. Instilling more panic to his assistant wouldn't do them any good. So with the same indifferent tone he always used, he requested Sucrose to find help from anyone who can carry your body back home while he was busy suppressing your blood loss. She complied obediently with a nod, running out of the workshop in a brisk pace, and Albedo's calm facade dropped.
All refined elegance had left him as he hastily pried open your shirt, breath hitching at the gaping wound on your stomach.
He did not flinch at the scene of your bare skin; that should be the least of his worries. What he should be worried about was the alarming amount of blood you'd spilled.
With the precision of a skilled medic, he made quick work to treat your injury as much as possible, hastily cleaning the wound and careful not to inflict pain on you if there was any chance of you regaining consciousness soon. Crimson stained his fingers in the process, and with anxiety clouding his mind, he didn't notice his hands were trembling until he had finished wrapping you in bandages.
Albedo stared at his shaky hand, trepidation still in his nerves. Fear shook his heart, and he released a sigh. There was no real reason to panic, he reminded himself. He trusted his own abilities, and he was sure you'll survive, he made all the proper arrangements to keep you from dying, and yet-
And yet he was still afraid, because it was you.
He sat down on the chair residing beside the bed, willing himself to stay calm. Indulging in thoughts he shouldn't delve into wouldn't make anything better anyway, so he shook his head to free his mind of concerns. Glancing at your serene expression, he gingerly clasped your hand with both of his own, and his lips thinned into a firm line when he found it utterly limp in his grasp.
It was far too cold for his liking, and he cradled it desperately to retain its warmth.
“You really...” he whispered hoarsely, pressing it to his forehead—as if to pray for your safety to the Archons. “Drive me crazy...”
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#albedo#albedo x reader#albedo imagines#albedo headcanons#kreideprinz#idk where i was going with this#but here you go
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Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part I
Summary: When Will asks him to pick Michael up from school, Spencer may or may not develop a schoolboy crush on the kindergarten teacher.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: none
Word count: 2.5k
a/n: Here she is! I’m not sure exactly what it is about Spencer Reid x teacher!reader, but it is my most requested fic topic, and I am happy to oblige! This is the first in a multi-part series. Weird is Good also takes place in this verse. Any teacher!reader requests will be folded into this verse as well, so feel free to continue sending me those!
Series Masterlist
Click here for the story mentioned, read by everybody’s fave Michelle Obama.
———
“A strong geographical profile is one of the most important pieces of the overall behavioral profile; it significantly narrows the area the team has to cover, allows for law enforcement teams to prioritize and maximize limited resources, and helps focus the investigation in conjunction with the other elements of the profile. And that wraps our section on building geographical profiles!” Spencer smiled at the faces in front of him, gesturing to the board. “The information we covered today will make up a significant portion of your midterm, so make sure to review it before next week. See you all next Thursday!”
As his students began packing up their things, Spencer’s phone rang from inside his bag. When he retrieved the phone and saw Will’s name on the caller ID, his brow furrowed in concern. “Will— everything ok?”
“Hey, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m sorry to ask, but JJ’s on a case, and my partner and I just finished our last call clear on the other side of the city. Henry’s got soccer practice, but Michael’s gotta be picked up in about— well, shit, right about now. Would you mind picking him up and bringing him ‘round to the house?”
Spencer looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started up the aisle out of the lecture hall. “Yeah, of course! It’s over by the Naval Observatory, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. If you pull ‘round the parking lot, they usually come out the side door. His teacher’s real sweet, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll let her know you’re picking him up.”
“Okay, sounds good.” Spencer pushed open the door and made his way down the hall.
“You’re the best,” Will drawled. “I’ll only be about half an hour.”
…
When Spencer pulled the baby blue Volvo into the parking lot of the school, he saw Michael and Ms. Y/L/N sitting on the steps of school. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, looking down at a book laying across their laps. Her legs were stretched out straight and she pointed down to the page, saying something that made Michael throw his little head back in a laugh that floated in through the open window of the car. Spencer grinned at the familiar sound as he pulled around the carpool loop.
When he recovered from the giggles, Michael caught sight of the car and waved his hand excitedly at Spencer. Ms. Y/L/N looked up and gave a wave as well, albeit a little less vigorous. She closed the book and turned her torso slightly to unzip Michael’s backpack and drop the book into it.
Spencer put the car in park, stepped out, and walked around the car to meet the two of them. Michael was already up and running, throwing himself at Spencer’s legs and hugging them tightly. He leaned down to return the hug. “Hey, buddy! How was school?”
“It was amazing,” Michael gushed, pulling out of the hug to gesture wildly. “We learned how to write the zzz sound, and now we know all the sounds! Oh, and then we used blocks in math, and that was so fun, because Ms. Y/L/N let us build with them when we were done counting. Oh, and then we learned about frogs, and they are so cool. Did you know that frogs have night vision? Oh, and Ms. Y/L/N said I could borrow my favorite book from the classroom library! She read it to me already while we were waiting for you, but maybe you could read it to me, too? I can read some of the words but not all of them yet, so I still need some help.”
Spencer smiled widely at him. “Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I did know that about frogs, actually! And of course, I’d love to read with you.”
“The book’s called Giraffe Problems, and it’s about this giraffe named Edward who doesn’t like his neck.” Michael looked at Ms. Y/L/N. “What’s the turtle’s name again?”
“Cyrus,” Ms. Y/L/N reminded him.
“Right, Cyrus.” He looked at Spencer. “See, that one is tricky because c’s don’t usually make the sss sound, but sometimes they do. Ms. Y/L/N’s teaching me about it, even though she said it’s kinda hard for kindergarten.”
“Because you’ve got a big, powerful brain, right?” she said, tapping her temple and winking at Michael. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N, by the way. You must be the infamous uncle Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then she smiled at him and his big, powerful brain melted inside of his skull.
Michael continued talking, and Spencer briefly wondered if this is how people felt when he rambled. Michael lost his attention immediately, because all he could do was stare at Ms. Y/L/N. Her eyes glinted with humor as he chattered on. She followed his expressive motions with well-timed nods and mhmms, a skill she’d no doubt honed through years of indulging kindergarten babbling. She met Spencer’s eyes every so often, only a slight eyebrow raise indicating her amusement. Her hair had been tied back, but soft pieces had come loose throughout the day, falling into her face and around her shoulders. Up close, he could see that the print of her collared a-line dress was hundreds of green frogs. On her feet were a pair of beat up, low top converse, and Spencer thought he could physically feel the crush branding the chambers of his heart. He was jolted out of his thoughts by Michael’s hand tugging on his pant leg, and he looked down to see him looking up expectantly.
“Sorry, what?” Spencer asked him.
“I said,” Michael repeated with a sigh, “can we look up the author and see if he has any other books?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, buddy.”
“Jory John has lots of amazing books,” Ms. Y/L/N confirmed. “You’ll love the series he wrote with Pete Oswald.” She smiled at the pair of them before checking her watch. “I’ve gotta go pack up, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.” She winked at Spencer, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “It was nice meeting you, uncle Spencer.” She waved again and then turned up the stairs to disappear into the building.
Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, and then turned to Michael. “Well. All right, are you ready to go home?”
…
They were settled into the car and halfway home before Michael finally needed to take a breath. Spencer capitalized on the break in conversation.
“So, Ms. Y/L/N seems pretty cool,” Spencer hedged.
“Yeah, she’s the best,” Michael confirmed with a nod. “On Fridays she lets us put on the smocks and paint. And she has really good story voices. Oh, and she also has these really cool blocks that stick together—magnet blocks. And when I fell off the jungle gym and got a big scrape, she gave me a Paw Patrol bandaid! And she gives great hugs.”
“Good story voices, huh?” Spencer met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Better than mine?”
Michael tilted his head in deep thought. “Hmmmm. It’s pretty close. Your wizard voice is good, but she does accents.”
Spencer blew out a dramatic breath. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game.”
“You’re gonna have to practice a lot, because Ms. Y/L/N reads to us every day.” Michael raised his eyebrows in a challenge.
“Hey!” Spencer looked incredulous. “I read every day, too!”
“Yeah, but do you read with story voices every day?” Michael clarified.
Spencer sighed. “Well, I guess not.”
“It’s okay, uncle Spencer,” Michael soothed. “You can’t be the best at everything.”
“So they are better than mine?”
Michael pressed his lips together, and Spencer almost laughed at how much he looked like JJ. “... maybe.”
…
A trail of shoes and school supplies led to the couch, where Spencer and Michael sat shoulder to shoulder. They were on their second read of Giraffe Problems. Spencer took a long, dramatic breath before launching into Cyrus’ banana speech, and Michael burst into a fit of giggles. With his best theatrical voice, Spencer read down the page. “Yet, day after day, I’ve felt like such a fool as I stretched my neck toward those greedy branches, only to be limited by my own physical shortcomings.” He flipped the page and changed his tone. “You… want a banana from a tree?” He looked at Michael and said, quickly and in a low voice, “That’s what I said, yes.” Michael wheezed out another laugh.
Spencer finished the story, Michael mouthing the words along with him. When they reached the last page, Spencer softly closed the book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty great story.”
“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Ms. Y/L/N said she likes it because it reminds us that we gotta love ourselves and our bodies for how they are.”
Spencer nodded. “Absolutely. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us special.”
“Yeah. I just really like when he’s wearing all the scarves.” Michael burst into another fit of laughter, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh with him.
The front door opened, and Will was smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “I could hear y’all laughing all the way down the sidewalk.”
“Daddy!” Michael jumped up from the couch, and Will bent to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. It sure sounds like you and uncle Spencer had fun, though.” He shot Spencer a wide smile.
“We read Giraffe Problems. Can we read it again later?” Michael asked.
“Sure thing. We can read it before bedtime.” Will set him down, furrowing his brow. “Wait, Giraffe Problems? Is that a new one?”
Michael shook his head. “Ms. Y/L/N let me borrow it from the library. I have to give it back in two weeks.”
“Man, Michael, you really lucked out, huh?” Will posited. “Ms. Y/L/N is so good to you.”
“Jeez, everybody’s saying that today,” Michael sighed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N is amazing, we all know this.”
“All right, sass monster. I didn’t know uncle Spencer thought she was amazing, too.” Will grinned. “We gotta go pick up Henry in a few minutes. I’ll get you a snack, and you can pick up your things?” He gestured to the mess of shoes and school supplies in the foyer.
Spencer smiled sheepishly. “That’s probably my fault. We were just so excited to read the book.”
“Ah yeah, I know how he gets.” Will crossed to the kitchen. “A one track mind, that one. Thanks again for picking him up today.”
Spencer stood from the couch and followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s no problem at all! I can do it any time.”
“Well, I don’t want to bother y—”
“It’s not a bother!” Spencer schooled his voice back into a normal register at Will’s raised eyebrow. “It—It’s not a bother at all. I, um— I have a lot of free time when I’m on sabbatical. Especially since I’m only teaching one course this semester. Plus, I love seeing the boys.”
“I’ll remember that.” Will smiled. “So… Ms. Y/L/N’s amazing, huh?”
Spencer just knew that his cheeks were as red as the apple Will was cutting up. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, she was— she was really nice.”
“She’s not bad looking, either,” Will supplied. When Spencer’s mouth fell open, Will continued, “What? JJ thinks so, too. Don’t tell me you didn’t even look, because I know that’s a lie.”
Spencer sputtered, “I— well, I—”
“Daddy, can we get an ice-cream on the way home?” Michael interrupted, completely unfazed.
Will laughed. “Saved by the bell, uncle Spencer. Yeah, buddy, we can get ice-cream.”
…
“It’s not weird to look her up. I just want to know more about the person who’s educating my godson,” Spencer tried to reassure himself as he pulled up the school’s website. He scrolled to find the teacher pages, a little smile crossing his face when he saw Ms. Y/L/N’s picture— white ruffled shirt, red bow, and black hat. A perfect tribute to Mary Poppins.
He dropped his smile. “She barely said five sentences to you, and you didn’t say anything back.” His eyes wandered over the links on the side, landing on the About Me section. “But she did say she’d heard a lot about you, so it’s only fair that you get to know a little about her.” Against his better judgment, he clicked the page link. A photo of Ms. Y/L/N— grinning and holding a very distraught-looking black cat— popped up on the screen, and Spencer laughed aloud.
I grew up on a farm outside of Fayetteville, NC before moving to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. I moved to DC to earn my Master’s in Early Childhood Education, and I have been teaching here for 8 years! I love working with young learners, because children grow so much in their foundational years. Watching a child have a lightbulb moment is one of my greatest joys. When I'm not in the classroom, I love to read, travel, play scrabble, and spend time with my cat Roald (pronounced Roo-all)!
Spencer scrolled through the pictures of Ms. Y/L/N and her students. There were pictures in their “smocks,” which Spencer discovered were really just old t-shirts. There was one of her in the middle of some very animated story telling, and another of a field trip to the zoo. In each one, the smiles beamed out through the computer screen in a digital portrait of unbridled joy, contagious even over the waves of the internet. Smiling to himself, he clicked on the tab labeled Teaching Philosophy.
I believe that every child is an extraordinary and essential piece of our classroom puzzle. In order to nurture the unique individuality of each of my students, I work hard to make our classroom a safe, positive, and supportive community where students are given the space to express themselves. Our classroom culture is also one of kindness and creativity, where each individual is valued and celebrated for who they are!
Spencer swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat as he thought back on his own school career. While his teachers had always appreciated his intelligence, he honestly couldn’t recall a moment where he had felt valued for just… being himself. The majority of his time in school had been spent unsuccessfully fending off bullies, completing other students’ homework, or being gawked at like some sort of alien. He was grateful that Michael would hopefully never go through anything like what he’d experienced; at least not while Ms. Y/L/N was around.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he leaned back in the desk chair to pull it out. He swiped it open to read the incoming text.
JJ: So......... you like Ms. Y/L/N, huh? 😉😉😉
Spencer: What?! Did Will tell you that? I didn’t say that.
JJ: Some things you don’t have to say out loud, Spence.
———
Tags: @spacedikut
#spencer reid#spencer x reader#spencer x y/n#spencer x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid#professor!reid#professor!spencer#teacher!reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds self insert#homoose writes#TMSIDK
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For the second day of @jonmartinweek, mostly for the prompt "injury", though also a little bit "love confession" (by omission).
Set directly after episode 92. Content warnings for mild descriptions of Jon’s canonical injuries (blood, burns).
*
Things are...tense, when they go back down to the Archives. Actually, “tense” is probably an understatement, after finding out that Elias murdered not only Gertrude Robinson, but also the unknown man in Document Storage—who as it turned out was none other than Juergen bloody Leitner.
A lot to take on board, all in all.
Basira seems to have accepted her new employment status with eerie calm, and starts setting up at Sasha’s old desk (oh god, Sasha’s dead, has been for months), fetching notebooks and folders from the stationery cupboard and arranging pens and highlighters in a desk tidy. Daisy is nowhere to be seen—thankfully, Martin thinks, because she was even scarier than usual in Elias’ office. Melanie storms off into the stacks and there are sounds of shouting and things hitting the floor, which Martin is in no hurry to investigate. Tim sits at his desk with his feet propped up for about five minutes, then stands up and says: “Fuck this, I’m off to the pub.” He doesn’t invite anyone else to go with him, and Martin thinks their presence probably wouldn’t be welcome.
Jon arrives in about half an hour later, smelling of fresh cigarette smoke. Normally Martin would disapprove, but the way things are right now he’s tempted to take up a few bad habits himself. Jon looks...exhausted, defeated, his shoulders slumped wearily. His clothes are smudged with dirt, and there’s drying blood crusted around the injury on his neck; the bandages on his hand are starting to slip, revealing the angry, raw burns beneath.
Martin’s not sure he’s ever been so happy to see someone in his life.
Jon gives him a small, tired smile as he passes, then heads into his office and shuts the door. Martin knows that no sane person would try to go straight back to work looking like they’d just been through a war zone and still with an open wound; he is also aware that Jonathan Sims is the sort of person to do precisely that. He hesitates for a few moments, then makes a decision.
He fetches the first aid kit from the break room, and goes and knocks on Jon’s door. It’s a firm knock, a knock that he hopes says “I’m coming in whether you like it or not”, because it’s not beyond Jon to try to avoid them all for an extended period.
“Come in,” Jon calls, and even his voice sounds exhausted. When he sees Martin enter the room, his expression softens in a way that’s difficult to parse. Is he just relieved that it isn’t one of the others? Or is he actually pleased that it’s Martin?
It’s been two months since Jon went into hiding while suspected of murder, and the last time Martin saw him he had been quite sure Jon was planning to—to hurt himself, somehow. Before that, though, there had been a time when they were...well, close, in a way. Jon had let his guard down around Martin, in the midst of being so suspicious and afraid. He had trusted Martin, when he didn’t trust anyone else, had eaten lunch with him and talked about boring, ordinary things, the tight set of his shoulders relaxing just a little. He had even laughed, sometimes. It had been, despite everything, one of the happier times in Martin’s life, and if that’s not pathetic he doesn’t know what is.
“Hi, Jon,” he says.
“Martin,” says Jon, his tone soft. “It’s so—ahh, how are you?”
“How am I? You’re the one with a bloody great gash in your neck and looking like you put your hand in a fire.” Martin brandishes the first aid kit. “You really should go to the hospital, but I know it would be a waste of my time suggesting it.”
“Thank you for bringing that,” Jon says. “I appreciate it. You can just leave it on the desk.”
“Nope,” Martin tells him cheerily, setting the kit down and opening it. “I know you, Jon. If I leave it with you it’ll still be sitting here untouched tomorrow. Plus, I got my first aid certification when I was working in the library. It’s probably expired now, but I think it still counts.”
Jon looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he huffs a breath that might be a laugh, and nods in concession.
“All right then,” he says.
Martin snaps on a pair of disposable gloves and directs Jon to sit on the desk and undo the top two buttons on his shirt, so Martin can examine the wound on his neck. It’s shallow, fortunately, and the bleeding seems to have already stopped. Martin cleans away the crusted blood as gently as he can, though Jon still winces a few times.
“What happened?” Martin asks, as he smears on antibiotic cream.
“Daisy. She, ah, she decided that I was dangerous. Needed to be dealt with. Fortunately Basira was able to convince her otherwise.”
“Bloody hell,” Martin mutters. He’s not sure why he’s surprised; he’s always felt afraid around Daisy, like a rabbit being in the same room with a fox. But he just sort of assumed it was typical Martin fear of, well, everything. He never thought Daisy would actually hurt any of them. He applies a bandage carefully over the wound, and then turns his attention to Jon’s hand. Unwrapping the bandages reveals the red, blistered mess beneath, and Martin hisses in sympathy.
“Please tell me you went to the hospital for this.”
“I went to a walk-in clinic,” Jon says. “They cleaned it up, gave me some antibiotics and painkillers. They, uh, they did recommend I see my GP for follow up monitoring, and that I should get a referral to a physiotherapist, but, well, it’s been a busy few days.”
“Jon,” Martin sighs, exasperated, and Jon smiles a bit shakily.
“I know,” he says. “I will go to a GP, I promise. It’s just a bit tricky when you’re wanted for murder. Anyway, it seems to be healing rather well, all things considered.”
Martin considers whether to apply antibiotic cream, but the skin doesn’t seem to be broken, and he knows it’s best not to touch the area more than needed. Instead, he rewraps it with clean, dry bandages, being sure to keep them loose.
“How did this happen?” he asks, to distract himself from the fact that he is, technically, holding Jon’s hand. Jon gives a self-deprecating laugh.
“I, uh, I was trying to get information from a devotee of the Lightless Flame. This was her price.”
“The Lightless Flame? That cult—from the statements?”
“The same. As it turns out, a—a lot of things from the statements are real. Unpleasantly so.”
“I—yeah, I sort of figured that out when Tim and I got trapped in these weird corridors for days by that Michael...thing.”
Jon’s face blanches, his brows furrowing.
“You—god, Martin, I didn’t know. Are you—I mean, you’re okay, obviously, but— Have you seen Michael since?”
“No, and I hope I don’t.” Martin feels faintly nauseous at the memory. He doesn’t realize his hands are trembling slightly until the fingers of Jon’s hand, the unburned one, touch his wrist.
“I’m so sorry, Martin,” he says. “When I realized a-about Sasha, about that thing, I hoped I could take care of it myself, spare you and Tim. I never wanted to drag you into all this.”
“I don’t think there’s much avoiding it,” Martin mutters miserably. “And you didn’t seem to mind dragging Melanie into it, while you were on the lam.”
“I shouldn’t have asked her for help either. It wasn’t fair to put any of you in the position of aiding a suspected murderer.”
“I never believed you did it,” Martin tells him fiercely. “It just would have been nice to know you were okay, you know?”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I—I wanted to contact you, but it seemed too risky. I knew the police would be watching you, since we’re friends. Or—or at least friendly.”
Everyone I’ve talked to says you and him were close. Martin had been ridiculously pleased by the accusation at the time, and he feels the same now, with Jon’s injured hand cradled in both of his. Jon trusts Martin with his wounds, his vulnerability. Jon wanted to contact him; Jon thinks they’re friends.
“I—” Martin starts to say, and he doesn’t know if his next words will be I missed you or I worry about you or some humiliating romantic confession blurted out and impossible to take back. He draws a deep breath, and instead says: “I’m glad you’re back, and that you’re okay. I don’t have that many friends, I can’t afford to lose one.”
He says it like a joke, and mercifully, Jon takes it as one, and gives a relieved laugh. Martin realizes he’s long since finished bandaging the burn and is now just sort of...holding Jon’s hand; he releases it, reluctantly, and Jon smiles, lifting his other hand to touch the bandage on his throat.
“Thank you, Martin,” he says, hopping down from the desk. “I appreciate it, really.”
“As a token of your appreciation, you can go ahead and make a doctor’s appointment for that hand,” says Martin firmly, closing up the first aid kit.
“I will,” Jon says solemnly, and Martin believes him, but he’s also going to check in and remind him at the end of the day because Jon has a tendency to forget about trivial things like his own wellbeing. It’s just who he is, and Martin’s made his peace with it, like he’s made his peace with being utterly, hopelessly gone for Jonathan Sims.
“I was going to make some tea, if you fancy,” he says as he opens the door. “You look like you could use a cup.”
“Oh, yes, that would be lovely, thank you. Oh, and Martin?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad I’m back as well. I—” Jon hesitates a moment, then says: “I missed your tea.”
It’s not much of a declaration, but Martin understands what Jon means by it; for the two of them, it means a lot.
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For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)
Previous Next
Chapter 3| How Little We Know of What There is To Know
Chapter Summary:
Pretending and being numb is the key.
Yet Adler always manages to bring some emotion out of you.
Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU
Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma
A/N: Where pineapple is the nectar of the gods and scars are lightning.
“Bell”
Second Life
23:09 | February 25, 1981
CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”
You rubbed your dry eyes as you stared at your notes all over the desk you’ve chosen as your little corner, the large bulky computer taking up space but you’ve made do by moving the brick that is the keyboard as much as you could off to the side. Your papers held inks of different colors—although they were only red, blue, and black and yellow highlights—and you had a stack of folders behind the computer that were from the CIA and MI6 archives. You had Kraus’ ledger off to your side, headphones on top of it for you to hear the audio of U.S. cities and numbers. Your fourth mug of coffee of the day was already gone and you would grab another just to enjoy the warm liquid to go down your throat instead of the caffeine itself, you were always one of late night’s either way.
The safehouse was quiet outside the hum of the generator and the lights above. Most of the crew gone. Outside of your absent tapping of a pen against your messy notes and the white of a nearby fan for extra circulation, the main open area of the safehouse was a desert.
If you focused deeply, you can hear mumbles and murmurs that you can’t make out coming from the office. Adler has been in there for awhile talking over the phone. To who, you don’t know but you have your suspicions. You just hope the subject is not about you being suspicious—the talk on the roof was a slight on your part earlier.
You truly don’t know what came over you. But you need to watch your mouth and expressions. Adler is perceptive, deadly and ever watchful of a person’s micro expressions and body language.
You can’t mess up.
A shot rings. And a heart splinters.
“It was never personal.”
You really can’t.
Which is why, you have been focused solely on decoding the entire day. Your eyes scanning and assessing the acquired Intel from the Volkov mission for Operation Chaos and Operation Red Circus. You have the knowledge on how to solve them but you are lacking needed Intel to help finish Operation Red Circus.
Operation Chaos was tricky. With two pieces of evidence outside of the newspaper, it being the audio log and the paper that had the coded message. Earlier in the morning, you wrote down all the possible numbers the missing parts of the code be—trying to find the pattern in the set of red and blue numbers. You were writing down the possibilities, your paper looking chaotic with arrows and numbers and cities that could coincide with said numbers.
After the quick checkup of your head with Adler, all firm and gentle touches with you keeping your eyes to the side or down as he fulfilled why he got the alias Doc—treatments of gun wounds and cuts to bayonets, complete trust he’ll take care of you as he would lecture or tighten a bandage a tad too tight in reprimand due to a reckless action—and kept quiet as he did so outside of a soft yes or no when he asked about the pain, you moved to go to work. Ignoring the feel of his gaze on you as you did so. Park coming to your desk after you moved your stuff from the center table to your chosen corner to begin, papers already everywhere and scattered as you tried to organize it in a manner you could only understand, a mug close to her mouth and a cocked brow at the mess.
“There’s a way to keep it a bit more clean and less like a junk pile,” the British woman said, amused as you made a distracted sound, squinting at the coded language in your hand as papers rustled. “And when I gave you my advice, I didn’t think you would take it so seriously. There’s a better desk you could’ve chosen as your own, Bell.”
You blinked, giving Park a confused look.
“Advice?”
Park making an obvious glance to the center table in front of the evidence board, you automatically following it. Only to turn back to your paper once you noticed Adler’s form by the table, cigarette in his hand as he stared down at his own files.
"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."
“. . . I just needed some space to focus. I’m sure Adler wouldn’t like all my papers everywhere around him either way.” You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your head and your hand. You wanted to erase it. “But I don’t mind staying close just in case. Easier to hand things to you or him whenever I’m done.”
“Someone sounds confident,” Park commented with a sip of her coffee, making your own lips twitch for a moment as you replied that you are the best as you moved some papers around. Than, in a quiet murmur with a quick dart back to Adler’s direction, “Distractions are best to be avoided. . .”
“What was that?” You asked, placing everything in a pile as well trying to keep some of them up by leaning the papers on the computer screen and failing as they slid down. You heard Park release an exasperated humored huff through her nose just as you heard her step away only for you to have a black leather gloved hand in your face with sticky notes. “What is. . .”
“Oh come now. I am sure it’d be easier if you used these. Make sense of this chaos. I guess there is some fact of what people say about geniuses and their rooms,” she motioned the sticky note pad again as you stared at it. The papers were yellow but new. Unused, outside of a crinkle at an edge.
“Where am I?”
“Who am I?”
“What is happening?”
“Why can’t you remember?”
“D o y o u h e a r i t ? ”
“Who is Perseus?”
“Tell me who I am!”
Blood forms the words, as if with a finger.
“They want to kill you.”
“Make it stop.”
“MK”
Words pressed on the page, over and over and over with harsh penmanship and you don’t understand what’s happening. What is this room? And that man. . . Why does it hurt? Is this helping Russell?
Pain
Pain Pain боль
боль
Pain Pain
боль
Pain Pain Pain
Pain Pain Pain
боль боль
It hurts.
GlockeGlockeGlockeG̷̟̩͙̏͌ḽ̸̊̿o̵̦̓͝c̵̭̯̊́ḱ̷̛̼͌͊e—
You turned away back to your papers, jaw tight.
“I’m good. Sticky notes can be a pain. Thank you, Park.” Park lowered her hand, giving you a questioning stare in the back of your head. You sighed, turning your head over your lowered shoulders. “I’m going to try to finish this today but I think I’m missing a few pieces of Intel. You can give me other things to decode for MI6 in the meanwhile.”
Park frowned delicately, lowering her mug.
“That sounds like a hefty workload. And I believe it would be best if we put all our focus into Perseus for now.”
No. You have to be useful.
“It’ll be fine,” you say, searching for a paper and giving it to her while Park grabbed it. “I solved that part of the code already. The other intel we got from Kraus, I’m going to need more information in order to figure out who exactly can be Strong Man, Bearded Lady, and the Juggler. I can’t go forward with that so might as well help with other codes you guys may have trouble with. What did you imply?” You ask with faux curiosity, your lips twitching up before falling as you wrote something down. “That I’m a genius?”
“Smartarse.” Park retorted, although she seemed to still hesitate but eventually she gave you three files where they seemed to be having trouble. You getting to work immediately to help as Park walked away and you hearing later on Park and Adler head to the office.
You did your best to not think too much of it. You have to keep at your work and make sure you’re capable and on task. You rather not get jabbed.
“We got a job to do.”
And although it might be inevitable, you would rather not have those words said to you as well. Even if it didn’t seem to have the same affect as before, the feeling and how your thoughts seemed to blur came back. Being aware you moved like a puppet and were one all along is not what you would like to focus on.
After you finished two of MI6’s files—had to do with KGB and how interesting they would use some quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 1984 hidden in the code as if the man was in support of communism with the work—with a hum mixed with impressed and curiosity from Park as she looked at the solved papers, your nose twitched at the scent of smoke and leather as you worked on the last MI6 folder.
“Stealing away my protege, Park?” Your hand around the pen paused before continuing, a plume of grey gathering above you. “And here I thought we have an equal partnership when it comes to this whole Perseus business. At least tell me you’re not wasting her time?”
“I wouldn’t call it stealing if she’s willing,” Park easily replied before handing him the two files to look over that you did, Adler scanning through it as she continued. “And it still has to do with our red friends. You sure are quick with the ball, Bell.”
“It’s nothing,” you say quietly, “Can’t exactly go forward so might as well help you with other codes that others can’t solve. Just send anymore my way. You too, sir.”
Adler made a distant hum, closing the files and handing it back to Park. You felt his stare at the back of your neck as you stared at the paper in front of you that might as well be nonsense since you sensed him.
Look at him, pup.
“If you wanted a more exciting challenge Bell, you could’ve asked. Always the type to leave no stone unturned and show off.”
“‘More exciting challenge’?” Park repeated, “Think MI6 codes are all flowers and rainbows compared to those in the CIA, Adler? I believe I recall that it was only Bell that could be able to solve the dossier instead of anyone else within your organization.”
Yeah, cause you brainwashed me, you thought bitterly but the two kept going as you could only sit in between. Nice to have to be a witness between these two again.
“Bell is the best CIA decoder we have,” you tightened your jaw in surprise instead of to tense when his hand landed on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze—in comfort, in belief, in trust, in camaraderie, in everything but what you wanted and what you needed, in order to control— as you lowered the paper in your hand. “As well as having a wide range of other skills. You think I would just call in any brain dead desk sitter for this operation?”
You could see in your mind’s eye how dizzy you would get before due to all this praise. Now, you just do your best to press your lips as your chest tightened.
You felt Park shift behind you, her looking at you in appraisal.
“You are one of a kind, Bell. Shame you were born in the wrong country. Having to have Adler here as your superior.”
You huffed through your nose in dry amusement at that. Irony not lost on you.
What a curse indeed.
You turned in your chair finally, lips quirked that didn’t quite meet your eyes as you pointed your thumb towards Adler.
“You should’ve seen him in ‘Nam if you think he’s bad now. Always with the lectures.”
You felt Adler release you, watching as he took an inhale as he did a small shrug in disinterest.
“You can be stubborn, Bell. If I couldn’t beat it out of you, I’ll talk it out of you.” You looked up and you could sense his eyes looking down at you behind those shades. “Although I feel like sometimes I’m wasting my breath. Your recklessness borders on insanity.”
“I think I can see why they put the both of you together than,” Park said, brow arched towards Adler and a certain look in her eyes towards him you couldn’t quite read. It looked like a warning. But what could that look be for? “Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”
They left you after that, you waving off Adler asking if you need a break. He took that as the okay to bring you CIA files for you to decode. Seems he has no trouble using you dry if you’re going to insist on it. Despite that, you took them and you were able to solve three.
Park came back towards your desk and saying you could have a break, again, you waved her off. As well as her concern you wouldn’t want to read into—is it real for you and your body, or is some sort of guilt that perhaps they gave you a strong dose for the memory exercise and you’re running on steam, is it fake or real, don’t break the puppet- so you didn’t. You telling Lazar the food you wish and him dropping it by your desk with his own comment that your brain might fall out and you saying you’ll be fine, even threw in a small joke that with his food your brain will be well nourished. Outside of your favorite brand of pumpkin seeds of course. Sims only made a stray comment about the stacks on your desk, getting tall as the day went on and turned to night. You don’t recall if you said something back. You probably did, Sims was always distant—you have trauma that’s not even real and have the gall to have some nightmares about it when he actually went through that horrible war and sees a therapist for it, you don’t know the war—so you would take what you would get.
Everyone eventually shuffled out, Park—her brows looking creased and a purse to her lips—back to the side of your desk before she left and saying you should rest and leave the rest tomorrow.
“I’ll finish the rest today,” you replied, resolute and determined as you wrote the next possible code from this possible radio station an ally of Perseus may be using. “No rest for the wicked. As they say,” you threw out additionally, an echo of her words earlier which made Park raise her brows. “It’s fine. Once I start something, I have to see it through. It helps I can be patient when it counts—at least with this.”
“You seem to take it literally. You’ve been at it since early this morning. You only moved I believe when Lazar brought your food and to use the washroom.” Once you shrugged and said that seems normal to do and you’re fine with that, you heard Park’s tone grow stronger in reprimand. “Yes, you’re fine. Tell me, is Adler stopping you from taking breaks?”
You stopped, looking at Park and her irritated expression.
“No. . . No, it’s just me.” So none of you stick me with that dreadful drug and dig around my brain. So I can show all of you I don’t need it—that you don’t need to do that. That I’m useful and more than an asset. Unneeded assets get thrown away. “I just—just don’t want to disappoint.”
"Disappoint? You've exceeded expectations at every turn, Bell. Disappoint who?"
You didn’t answer, only turned back around and continued with your pen. You heard Park mutter a curse before walking out, giving you a pat to your back and tell you you’re driving back with Adler than since he’s determined to work as well before leaving. Your eyes round down to your desk.
You’ll be alone together with him again.
You took a shaky breath, focusing on the paper in front of you.
You’ll be fine. Just keep what you’ve been doing. Pretend everything is okay.
Pretend his concern—the touch on your shoulders burned as he shook you, as if to erase your dark thoughts out of you, lifting you up with his hand easily with words of a concerned reliable friend commanding officer—is real. And his kindness—why did they save you, you’re useless, what use is an untrained dog—is real too.
Just don’t question it. You’ll go mad.
Mind your tongue as well—control yourself. You used to tease before with faux confidence when the both of you bantered, but you have to watch your spiteful and petty comments. You really don’t want him to give you a dose.
But if you feel like the path is leading you there, you have a way to get at least a semblance of control back.
Puppets don’t control the puppeteer.
“Bell.” You turned in attention, Adler by the center table as he motioned his head towards the garage door, cigarette in hand. “Time to go.”
You nodded once, getting up after fixing up your desk a bit. Grabbing your beanie turned ski mask and placing it back on your head instead of your face and walked over obediently as the both of you walked out through the side door.
Good dogs come when they listen.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
“Come on, you know I hate fruit cake! Just give me your pears, Singer!”
“Sorry, Bell,” Singer grinned, taking a big purposeful spoonful of pears from the can, teeth flashing. “Guess you have to deal with all of that yourself. Too bad you don’t have a connection to those who pass the MCI’s, huh?”
You quietly glared at him with no heat, the act almost making Singer choke on his precious pears that he could’ve given you. The choking action making him spit out some and towards you, you making a noise of disgust as you punched the laughing man harshly to his shoulder as vengeance. It made him wince as the others around the campsite laughed at the two of you—the sun still above and the Vietnam jungle loud with birds and the trees moving against the wind. Although not really a campsite you would say since there no fire. Can’t have any eyes on them to go towards smoke.
‘They know these jungles better than us’ as Adler says.
Speaking of Adler, you turned towards him where he leaned against a thick great Banyan tree local to this country—the trunk thick just like the branches that spiral even to the floor. They were all actually hidden in the alcove of this tree, the space enough for them until they kept going to their destination. A beautiful yet haunting tree with its dark and smooth bark all around. You overheard once by Lee and other South Vietnam soldiers in base that these trees can have spirits inside. Dangerous they said for some of them. You don’t think these ‘spirits’ ever met Adler.
You could see Adler’s lips were up in amusement due to your predicament despite his war paint, raising his brow over his black shades when he noticed your gaze.
Before you even fully lifted your hand with the can of horrendous fruit cake, he shook his head at you, lips going even more into a smile.
“Don’t even try, kid. I fucking hate fruit cake myself,” he adjusted himself against the tree and the gun in his lap. The food of his MCI basically gone outside the crackers and canned pineapple. “Disgusting things. I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to have hard pieces of fruit and dry raisins in cake.”
That’s what you’re saying!
“Please, Adler. I gave you my cigs already, at least give me some of your pineapple?”
Sims laughed beside you, nudging your shoulder with his and shaking his head in disbelief.
“You think Doc is gonna give you some of his golden nectar away? Might as well have asked him to give his cigs along with his lighter.”
“Not happening, Bell.” Adler answered casually, finishing up his crackers and swiping his hands against his pants before moving to the can. “Besides, not like you smoke anyways. The cigs would just sit there pretty in the box if you don’t hand it to me. Unless you want to try to smoke again. It went well last time.”
“Didn’t she choke?” Singer teased around a mocking grin. It made his youthful face boyish and eyes bright. “Almost hacked out a lung didn’t you?”
Larson, who was quiet between Singer and Adler, spoke up. Already finished with his food since he’s been mostly keeping to himself. This is the first official mission he’s had since he got the news. Poor guy.
“I remember that,” Larson said softly, looking towards you and you just took all their teases. You blame Adler. “It was after the drinking game between Butcher and Hamilton. You wanted to see the big deal about why everyone liked the nicotine.”
“Only for Doc to come to the rescue after Bell took one of his cigs,” Sims ended with a shit eating grin. You’ll kill him. “Surprised you’re still here and alive. Not from just avoiding choking on nothing either, but that you took a cig from him.”
“You guys bet that I couldn’t. . .” You muttered with narrowed eyes towards Sims who shushed you.
“What was that?” Adler asked, cocking his head only for Sims and Singer to shake their heads animatedly. Adler hummed doubtfully but dropped it.
“Never mind that! Just—“ You groaned, putting your head on your hands as you still held the can of fruit cake. “You think I can eat this shitty cake? The ‘raisins’,” you said the word doubtfully, “could be actual pieces of shit for all I know. It could explain the taste. And how hard it can be.”
Singer and Sims snorted next to you, on both sides while Larson actually cracked a grin as you raised your head and told them strongly to think about it! Adler shook his head, watching the jungle periodically in the open spaces of the alcove which all of you did to be cautious but the fruit cake debacle must be solved.
You turned your eyes towards Sims, spotting his fruit cocktail. Only for his hand to block it.
“Nope.”
“Come on!” Sims shook his head, opening the can and eating the fruit cocktail and you scowled. “All of you are shitheads. Now I’m gonna have to eat this.”
“Damn straight you do,” Adler reaffirmed, stern yet you could spot he found your curse to all of them, him included, funny based on his arched brows. “No wasting MCI’s. You know the drill, Bell.”
You grunted unhappily at Adler, but you knew he was right. Which is why you wanted to trade in the first place. Food shouldn’t be wasted, no matter how heinous.
You took a spoonful after managing to cut into the hard cake, Sims laughing in your face and you could spot Larson keeping his smile at your disgruntled expression only for it to deepen when you took a bite.
You tried to distract yourself through bites by asking Adler how far away they were from their destination. Adler answering after they reach the next nearest foxhole which is two hours away, it will be another six till they reach where they need to be.
“Hue is a mess right now. With us additional reinforcements, we’re going to aim for stealth and go around and take out as much as we can.” Adler explained as they all attentively listened. They can’t mess up. “We’ve been able to give them a lot of damage last I heard, with one final push of us taking out some of them when they’re scrambling—we’ll consider the Battle of Hue a win. Of course, if there’s more than we can handle, we’ll stick to recon and head back around to tell command at the Hue MACV compound we have there.”
“And the civvies?” Larson asked.
“Don’t shoot ‘em.” Was all Adler said before they all moved to clean up and move on after you and Sims finished up.
You having to force to swallow and chew the cake and packing up the trash. They can’t leave anything else it can be used to track or find them.
Larson, Sims, and Singer were outside the alcove—waiting for you to finish as you smacked your lips as if that could take away the taste in your mouth as you grumbled. You moved to go out where Adler was as he stood by the opening to head out. You spotted something on the ground where he previously sat.
“You left something, sir,” you say, growing near to pick up the can. Huh, it’s not empty.
Adler turned his head over his shoulder, expression questioning.
“Whatcha mean, kid? That’s yours isn’t it?” You frowned, looking down at the can only for your eyes to widen. There was some pieces of pineapple left, a little less than half of the can gone but it’s something. He turned his head back as he muttered. “Don’t expect this to happen again. Not here to spoil you, Bell.”
“Don’t expect you to, sir.”
“Just pick up the trash and move it, kid.”
You grinned, knocking back the can and easily and quickly eating it. The juices spilling down your chin and neck but you didn’t care as you licked your lips. The taste of disgusting shit cake gone.
You packed the can quickly, swiping your chin with the back of your hand as the both of you walked to where the others were.
“Thanks,” you said to him softly.
“For telling you to pick up your trash?” Adler answered easily and you smiled knowingly but let it go.
Such a hard ass.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
The car ride was silent, passing street lights and empty cafe’s whizzing by and enlightening the car for a mere moment before it would be enveloped in darkness once more until the next light comes. You were staring out the window as they passed the streets of Berlin, the sounds of the wiper periodically occurring due to the light rain occurring. Not many people out at this time of night, nearing midnight unless you were a working girl or at the local bar. Some wisps of smoke remained in the car despite Adler on his side having his window slightly open. Your eyes watching as it moved lazily and glancing towards the quiet, relaxed man next to you before you would turn to look back out. Curious to see more of the city besides in the backstreets and being stealthy.
You didn’t see much last night after Volkov, you falling asleep in the car as Park drove you. You were too out of it when they arrived at the hotel, just absentmindedly listening and nodding along to Park’s directions and promptly knocking out once you reached your room on the bed. Only to awake once more at the alarm you or someone else must’ve set early in the morning.
You were focusing on that instead of the last time you were in the car with Adler.
“You’ll like where we’re going. Trust me.”
You took a sneaky glance towards the man once more, just as the man exhaled out a cloud of smoke that you watched. Enraptured in how it moved to and fro lithely, easily as your nose took in the smell before you glanced back at Adler, the side facing you being his ‘good’ side.
You wonder once more of his scar that accentuated this man’s beauty—all harsh lines that created a map that even now you wish to trace. For someone like this to earn the title America’s Monster, all styled wheat hair, suede shades, and an easy, wry tone—it should at least match the title.
Than again, you thought with faltering wax wings and of another—the fall of a devil with none. It was never about his looks was it?
“It’s a small price to pay.”
What does that make you?
“Alright, kid,” he says, taking out of your stupor as you stared fully at the man now. Smoke releasing out his mouth as he spoke, making you lower your gaze to it. “I’ll bite. What do you want to ask me? Must be a juicy question since you keep burning holes to the side of my face.”
Embarrassment colored your face, caught, as you quickly adjusted your gaze to straight ahead and instead watching raindrops going down the windshield.
“It’s nothing.”
“Mmm. For some reason, I can’t believe that. What did I say before?”
You said a lot of things before, you thought with a sad frown. But you knew what he was referring to. Always wants to be the one you tell all your worries and concerns to. Before, you thought it was genuine. Now, you just see it as how it was—a cloak to observe and make sure if your true real memories came or if they needed to give you a dose.
“Your scar,” you began as he tilted his head towards you, hair moving as he did so as he kept his one hand casually to the wheel while the other was leaning against his door. You didn’t get distracted by it. “How’d you get it? There’s a story there.”
“Scar?” He asked in false confusion, still stoic outside of a cocked brow and making your lips twitch up despite yourself. Before motioning with his cigarette hand towards his face. “You mean this? Is it noticeable?” At your unamused huff though your nose, he continued. “Back in ‘73, I was nearly killed by a tiger while on a mission in Malaysia. But human ingenuity still runs the animal kingdom.” He turned his head towards you when they reached a light, his brows rising above his glasses. “You ever been attacked by a tiger, Bell?”
You stared at him in disbelief before releasing a surprised snort. The nerve of this man.
“You’re lying. That’s not from a tiger, it would be worse than that. You and your need to tell stories. . .” You mumbled the last part, you don’t think he heard that.
“Didn’t know you were an expert on tigers, Bell. Got a degree in zoology under your belt that I don’t know about? What makes you think I’m lying?”
“Because—“ That’s not what you said last time. You stopped, a realization going through you. Because of course he’ll lie to you about this too. Worse kind of crowd, your ass. “If you got that from a tiger than I must be a distant cousin of Joseph Stalin.”
“That unbelievable, huh?” He said more than asked, amused at your sarcasm as you looked at him with crossed arms as the car moved once more. “Fine. I’ll give. I jumped on a roof in Calcutta back in ‘75 while chasing a Soviet agent. The jump was successful . . . the landing not so much. Advice: always know where the utility poles are.” At your deadpanned look when he glanced at you, his lips quirked into a humored smirk. “That one didn’t hit the mark for you either? Was it the jump?”
You shook your head, a small groan leaving your lips as you leaned your head against the dashboard.
“Anybody who’s anybody can jump from roof to roof,” you replied, staring at your leather boots—forehead pressed against the dashboard and maintains it there even as they turned or there was a bump. “You know that. Just like you know a utility pole would’ve either choked you or electrocuted you. At least with electrocution it’d be more scars throughout instead of that part of your face.”
“Watch the cockiness, kid.” He reprimanded but than, “You’re right though. Roof jumps the standard when it comes to our work. But you’re really confident that I don’t have any other scars throughout the rest of me. Know something I don’t?” Your eyes darted towards him, wide and as they passed a street light, you noticed he was peering down at you in turn. Your skin burned as you looked away and mumbled no while staring at your very interesting shoes. The man hummed. “How about this. You know what they say about kids falling in with a bad crowd? Let’s just say I fell in with the worst part of a bad crowd. The girl wasn’t worth it, believe me.”
At your silence, he glanced at you.
“What? That’s the one you believe?” You gave a small shrug. When he first told you that, you didn’t ask any more questions. It sounded personal the way he said it. Truthful. Adler always lies. “What makes this one believable? The lack of a specific date or are you a sucker for romance, Bell?”
You threw him a meaningful look up at him. Not feeling the need to say anything. At his arched brow though, you opened your mouth.
“Your ex-wife.” His brow flattened at that. Something shifting in the air. “Was she worth it?”
A beat. A passing of street lights. The pitter patter of rain against the car.
“A romantic than. . .Never saw you as the type.” At your probing stare and his silence, you turned away. Seeing he won’t answer—too private. You’re a fool to even think he will say the truth at all. “Once.” You blinked, turning your eyes back up and lifting your head in attention as America’s Monster—a secret, a peek through the shades, a hint of something real besides the cold, black abyss, what are you Russell Adler—spoke ever so softly. A sardonic turn of chapped lips. “You can say we had a difference of opinion. Not much to it.”
There was more but you will take what you can get.
You thought of the memories you had, of friends you once believed were your own. Of little moments in beaches and camps and villages when all was calm and not chaotic with smell of burnt bodies or blood or how it feels to stab a bayonet through someone’s chest in defense. You could see them as clearly as any other memory you had. And feel it.
You thought of the poor soldier leaving a war only to get into another one in his home country.
“Larson. . .” you murmured, Adler hearing as he released a dry chuckle.
“Sort of like Larson. The poor bastard.” You watched him take a deep inhale, the cigarette almost a near stub. And you realize when that happens, he’s stressed. As stressed as a man like him could be. You’ve seen him in many moments in Vietnam. Not always the best. You wonder if that was another reason for your death. Adler exhaled a puff before having to throw the cigarette out the window with a flick, putting the window all the way up. “I don’t see why you’re so interested either way. Scars aren’t that impressive. Unless you always had a habit about asking for one’s ugly mug.”
You darted up at his eyes, shaded as they were, trying to sense if he was being serious.
Because he couldn’t be.
Not this man, with strikes of lightning upon his face as if Zeus did it himself. All power. Grace. Strength. Different from your barely functioning wax wings as you struggle to fly. Only able to watch and hope a falling demon crashes to its death—all harsh and slow.
What are you, Russell Adler?
Perhaps he is Zeus himself.
Perhaps how Adler got his scar was harsh retribution to control lightning, his scars even mimic those powerful strikes across his face. All strength. And all beauty. Those who survived struck by lightning always have the most beautiful marks upon their skin indicating their survival—you are selfishly bias though. Even now, you admit with self-loathing. The rougher marks on his face is all grace and you could wonder how he truly got it instead of fantasizing him as a God Of Lightning who mistook his own power upon his face.
It would only make sense. Both beautiful men, although you’ve never met the Greek God.
They both also have a habit of hurting women.
He’s all of that, while you could only hope with your squeaky levers and ropes and feathered wax can go up to said Mount Olympus where he was. A naïveté where you think you’re close with tired and sore arms only to be burnt away. A free fall down to the abyss.
Good pups stay in their place.
“You’re joking.” You accuse seriously as you stared up at him, your head against the dashboard but tilted slightly in his direction.
Adler tilted his head down slightly to stare down at you, a brow arched at your look.
“About?”
You didn’t say anything.
Just meaningfully looked up at him through your lashes, staring at his jaw that was strong as if Michaelengelo carefully carved it himself with minute details with his trusted mallet and chisel until dawn with a candle on his head due to determined ingenuity. Observing how the collar of his shirt did not do a good job in hiding his neck, his favorite jacket failing in that too so you could take it in. Not one strand was mussed or out of place on his head, all volume and thickness as your gloved hand twitched by your knee.
You than met the shades, in turn meeting his eyes as your heart seemed to pound as he stared down at you back. A look passing through his eyes too quick for you to catch, besides what you saw in your peripherals. The hand on the wheel tightening an iota as the air shifted to something heavier, blood pumping as your mind thought of reasons as to why which you pushed away. Impossible.
You licked your dry lips nervously, Adler’s expression seeming to tense when his eyes followed the action. You turned away, looking back down except to play with the ends of your gloves, neck hot and spreading.
You still felt his stare before he focused back onto the road.
They didn’t speak the rest of the ride.
Foolish dog should mind their eyes.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
You couldn’t sleep much when you reached your room, another floor to Adler’s and near Park’s, and not just due to how you were more one with the night.
You opened Pandora’s Box—something forbidden coming out into the world as you thought back to the meaningful stare between you and Adler in the car. That even the thought makes your heart pound once more. Your brain further muddling and melting away the more you spend time alone with that man. Whether in being caught in his pace or just the mere thought of what he’s done.
Although, you suppose you already opened a Pandora’s Box. Possibly even darker than the one you discovered.
If the monster in man’s skin was Zeus—he created the box in the first place. Except he wished to hide it from you and keep you willfully ignorant instead of tease you to release envy and greed and disease out in the world. You managed to open it—and it was none of those things, it was cruel and inhumane to you all the same.
Take this needle and follow the story, do the trick.
If only that box stayed close.
Zeus always did like to confuse.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
You let out a heavy sigh, hand mussing your hair harshly as you chewed your lips, staring at the paper on the center table of the safehouse.
“Having trouble?”
You slightly jumped as Adler, who was quiet in the seat across and to the side of you, spoke. Looking mildly curious at all the papers on your side of the table before taking a small puff. You sighed, looking back down at the paper in slight frustration.
“Just a little. Whoever made this code created a difficult to encrypt language. I have some of the numbers though already, it’s just the rest. I’ve never seen such an elaborate one before. . .” You said in thought as you tapped your pen against the paper. “I have to say, it’s impressive.”
Adler hummed idly, taking note of your words.
“Perhaps you need a sort of incentive.”
You moved your eyes up in confusion, wondering what that could mean. Only to stop once you noticed what was in his opposite hand not holding his precious cigarette.
It was a picture—a polaroid specifically. But not just any one. You stared at your oldest friend in the picture, taken on the rooftops in East Berlin, his face tilted down and a level of focus and calm as he stared down below in his crouched position. The lights behind him giving him an ethereal glow, a mix of white, red, and blue as those shades on his face gave a little glint due to it.
You reached a hand to see it better only for Adler to click his tongue, taking the picture back closer to him with a shake of his head.
“Sorry, kid. Can’t exactly be incentive if I gave it to you easily like that. You seem eager though.” Adler arched a brow at you. “Any reason as to why?”
Your cheeks prickle as you cursed in your mind. Why didn’t you get the film from the red room or Park yourself? You thought of a T.V. turning on it’s own, flashbacks to what happened in Vietnam on the screen, the memory sobering you up. You still. . .haven’t told Adler about that. He’ll call you soft and put you solely in the safehouse with no more field missions. You hate his disappointment. Still though, you recall you were determined to get it. A quick in and out but than. . . something? Something. . . happened?
At your brows furrowing deeply, Adler’s own brows furrowed and you answered his silent question as you touched your head.
“Sorry. . . That coma I woke up from still has done a number on me.”
“You did get shot twice, Bell. You have issues with always trying to push me out the way, even back in ‘Nam.” You smiled at his tease. You did have a protective streak. But only for certain people—even if you knew Adler could handle himself, you would do what you must for him if he told you an order. Or even go against it if it involved him doing something stupid like a sacrificial mission. You’d follow him anywhere. “Don’t think too much on it. I’m sure the rest of your memories will come back soon enough. Just remember in the end that mission was a success.”
“Whatever it takes, sir.” You said, a phrase that he spoke often back in the war. Which you would repeat. You would always do what you must.
Adler’s expression shadowed as he nodded once.
“Whatever it takes,” he glanced at the polaroid in his hand, it facing him as he seemed to stare in thought before turning his gaze towards you. Your expression curious as you wondered what he was thinking before he turned the picture back towards you, brow up inquisitively. “Well, Bell? Don’t think you’re going to dodge the question as to why you want this? I went through a bit of trouble to let Park let me have it. She’s stubborn when she wants to be.”
You slightly scowled at him, feeling the blush once more.
You hated when he did that blasted rhyme!
You also had a sense there was more to him asking Park but you were too busy trying to defend yourself. Not think about their daily quiet pissing match.
“I like taking pictures. It’s an art form. Every artist would like to have their own paintings,” you said, tone even and you wanted to pat yourself in the back for that.
Adler rose both his brows now.
“Really?” The way he said it made it seem he doubted you. “Not a photographer. Was never really interested in art either so maybe that’s why I can’t relate. Still. It’s a good picture, my good side and all. Can see why you would want it.”
You restrained yourself from saying what you wanted like last time. That basically you would want that picture even if it was on his scarred side.
“It had good lighting.” You added as Adler stared at his picture, cigarette being held in his lips. He turned back towards you, glasses slightly falling from his nose and you could see a hint of his eyes. A tease. You stared. His lips curved around the cigarrette, amused and indulging. You panicked. “I-It does!”
“I didn’t say anything. But say, the sooner you finish that code, the sooner you can have this—“ he paused, waving the hand with the polaroid”—piece of art of yours. Never thought I would say that but I guess there’s a first for everything.” He pocketed the picture back in his jacket, blowing his smoke away from you before he stood up and headed towards Sims only to add over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I know you got this.”
You stared as he walked over, the belief he had in you with those words moving around in your brain. You moved back to work, pointedly ignoring Lazar’s whistle—him able to hear some of what occurred no doubt. You threw him an impolite gesture that only made the man laugh as you focused on the code. It took you three tiring and near sleepless nights, but you finished. Adler handing you the photo in between his fingers as you took it gently, trying not to crinkle the photo further as Adler watched you behind his shades as you held the photo, taking a thoughtful inhale of his cigarette before looking away. Looking around their surroundings outside the safehouse. Their break time spot.
“You sure got talent, kid.”
“You should know by now to not doubt me, Russ,” you replied, your eyes still on the photo between your gloved hands. “Only the best of the best with you. Just took me longer than I thought.”
“Watch that confidence doesn’t blind you one day, Bell.”
“You first.”
He chuckled at that, breathless and surprised making you stare up with wide eyes. The sound rare. Adler tapped the end of his cigarette, ash going on the ground as he stared towards the doors of the safehouse, an echo of a smile on his face. Barely there. Others wouldn’t see it, but you’ve known Adler for years.
“You got guts. And spunk. Met my match with you it seems, kid. You know me too well. . .” Adler took a puff, deep as he trailed off, shades dark.
“That’s not a bad thing,” you say, lowering the photo in your hand. “Sims does too. Can’t exactly get rid of us that easy.”
“Sims has been through many missions with me, but not as much as you.” Adler explained calmly. “Some of those, I’m taking to my grave. If I breathe a word about it, I’ll have a bunch of people up my ass.”
You sense as if this was like a conversation from years ago, on a beach. Quiet and away from everyone in the camp, just the two of you talking about realities and soldiers. You think about that memory a lot.
You recall some of the memories he’s referring to.
You half shrugged, pocketing the photo in your bomber jacket as you leaned against the wall of the safehouse.
“What can you do? It was necessary. Besides, I can’t exactly tell anyone else either, Adler. Brutality is sometimes necessary. That’s all I know.” You paused, tilting your head and throwing a teasing smirk his way to get him out this weird mood. “Don’t tell me America’s Monster actually cares what other people say?”
Adler deeply exhaled in exasperation, smoke coming out his nose.
“Don’t tease me, Bell. You know I can’t give a shit.”
“Than what’s the problem? You do what needs to be done. Make the tough calls. You know. . . you know I understand right?” You asked carefully. “I’m with you when it comes to doing what we must. To protect what we need to.”
Adler was silent. He never answered.
You didn’t push him. Didn’t feel the need.
You understood him the best.
Only monsters can see one another, after all.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
Monsters, you’ve come to know, are also a certain kind of creature that takes what they need.
To want. Selfish and uncaring and you should be concerned at how easily you take in those traits.
Too busy to worry about regular people—the mundane. There are bigger things to be focused on than other’s opinions on what actions are necessary.
You and Adler can give not one fuck about others. They know what they are and will accept the titles from others with a nod.
What you’re coming to find however, that even with monsters, there’s different breeds.
You basically reiterated to him that what he did with you was necessary. Needed. Sound brutality at its finest. You feel like you can’t even argue.
What is better—loyalty to a country or to people?
You’re trapped.
.
.
.
I have a problem. This story is going to be long when it was supposed to be short. Oh well.
Also, hot take maybe, I love both Soft!Adler and Dark!Adler so let’s just have both sides of him shall we? Wait…is Adler truly soft here? Who knows.
DM me if you wish to be tagged please. ^////^
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#call of duty#for whom the bell tolls#chapter 3#how little we know of what there is to know#call of duty fanfiction#cod fanfiction#russell adler x bell#Russell Adler x Bell!Reader#Russell Adler fanfiction#Russell Adler fanfic#cod bell#call of duty black ops#call of duty black ops cold war#black ops cold war#adler x bell#female!bell#Cold War Reset AU#Undertale Reset AU#cod:bocw#cod Cold War fanfiction#bell x adler#cold war#Russell Adler x reader#female bell!reader#female bell#Poor poor Bell#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod:bocw fanfiction#cod:bocw fanfic
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A Sea of Fragments
Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader
Word Count: 3,524
Warnings: Swearing, Fainting, Slight Violence
Premise: You just wanted to get away from a situation that was becoming untenable. Knowledge isn’t always a blessing, especially when it comes with the emotional toll of thousands of futures. Unfortunately however things don’t always go well, and soon you find yourself in a peculiar situation.
In which the reader is clairvoyant and Scaramouche takes an interest.
Author’s Note: Okay but I could write a whole series based off this premise. Ahh Scaramouche you petty drama king. Who is also a bit of an ass but oh well.
Scaramouche can be very entertaining to write but also very difficult. It’s tricky writing a romance with him that isn’t in some ways suspect, though I think that when you manage it he can be surprisingly soft. Really I think a lot of it depends on your interpretation of his character. I really like how this turned out though and I hope you enjoy!
You wanted to be helpful, you really did. Helping people, making your gift something more than an odd sort of burden, it gave you sense of purpose; but it was becoming too much. More and more you hardly knew yourself, whether you were living in your reality or in one which may yet come to pass. It was pressing down on you, causing you to spiral. You couldn’t do it anymore.
Stealing out of the village that had been your home since before you could remember, you couldn’t help but take a glance back. The picturesque houses that clumped together glowed warmly, shadows of people visible in the windows. You wished you could help, you really did. But the burden had become too much, and now it was time to go. Taking a deep breath you turned back towards the road. In a few steps you’d finally be free. And if it was a bittersweet kind of freedom, so be it.
_______
“I hardly expected to be dragged out here to listen to the fantastical rumors of a group of farmers.” Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. The Fatui Agent facing him shifted slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with the Harbinger’s scrutiny. Good. He deserved it.
“I understand the sentiment, but this is hardly an ordinary rumor –”
“Then what is it?” Scaramouche’s acerbic tone cut off the man, making it clear that he wasn’t going to be fooled into complacency. What nonsense people believed. That some of those people were members of the Tsaritsa’s elite army only made it more infuriating. Still, what could you expect of ordinary people? How easily they believed their own lies.
“At first we thought nothing about the rumor as well,” the mage who’d been silent for the duration of the conversation spoke up, “we were just planning on leaving it alone. But then the famed fortune teller vanished. They disappeared, despite no one doubting their claims. Rumor is that the whole thing was making them ill.”
“And now I’m to look into this because our little psychic got tired and ran away?” Scaramouche let out a dramatic sigh, pausing just long enough to see the underlings in front of him squirm. Finally, he shook his head. “Ah the things Signora asks me to do.” Standing up from the chair he was sitting in he turned his back on the messengers. “You’re dismissed. Don’t bother me with this again.” There was some shuffling as the Fatui bowed and left. Scaramouche always loved listening to the way people scuttled away after talking to him. No one had any backbone, they all cowered and slunk away, as if that would make him forget them. Well he never would.
Alone he couldn’t help but scoff once more at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Honestly he expected more of Signora – who could usually be relied upon to possess a little more common sense than the rabble around them. Who would’ve thought her weakness was something as simple as someone pretending to see the future? Really it was quite sad.
“Let’s see what comes out of this little treasure hunt,” Scaramouche mused to himself, grabbing the pack he’d already made up once he’d first heard the rumors swirling around the camp, “they should hope it’s worth my time.”
_______
The village was terribly dinky, as one would expect of a community that was barely above the status of farming commune. Scaramouche wrinkled his nose, overwhelmed by irritating sounds, smells, and sights. How people could live in such a state? It was pitiful, how low humans could sink. Stepping around a cart laden with cabbages Scaramouche ducked inside the leaning structure that comprised the village center. Hopefully he wouldn’t be here long.
Awaiting him was the leader of the village. Her skin was cracked and tanned from the sun, and one couldn’t tell whether her wrinkles were a sign of old age or of the hardship of living a life devoid of luxury. One could almost feel pity for her, Scaramouche thought. Sitting down on the cushion across from her he gestured for her to talk. Hopefully this would be over soon.
“It was six nights ago that they left.” The woman’s voice trembled slightly, there were tears staining the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know why, we never made them unwelcome. They were simply there one day gone the next.”
“Did anyone see them?” Scaramouche attempted to hide his yawn. Usually he kept the tedious work in the lower ranks where it belonged. Still, this was turning into quite an outlandish story the more he heard about it. Apparently you really weren’t some ordinary charlatan, at least not to those around you; some even called you the reincarnation of a powerful spirit or a god. Of course all that might’ve been par for the course, but you refusing all money and gifts was certainly not. What kind of act were you peddling, the Harbinger wondered. Certainly not a very smart one.
“No,” the woman shook her head mournfully, “they lived alone, and often would be out at odd hours of the day, supposedly going to somewhere with less noise and purer air. We all suspected they really just wanted to be left alone. It seemed to annoy them when we asked too much, they often got headaches from it apparently. Once we even had to call in a doctor from the city, after they collapsed mid-vision.”
“I see.” Scaramouche didn’t bother to keep the scowl off his face. What was going on? There was an odd conventionality to this story, and if it weren’t for your roots here and your odd independence he’d certainly be dismissive. And yet…
As if mirroring this thought he raised his hand, standing up and walking towards the door. “Thank you for the information, I’ll be sure to tell you if I find them.”
“Don’t hurt them!” The woman shrank a bit as Scaramouche turned back to her, and he could see her hand trembling slightly as she set it back down.
“Why would you say that?” He said, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Why I wouldn’t dream of doing anything but bringing them home, safe and sound.” He didn’t bother adding anything else, both of them knew it was a lie. For what member of the Fatui does something with expecting anything in return?
Exiting the cramped structure Scaramouche immediately made for the path that led away from the village, out towards the vast wilderness of which folk tales were comprised of. You hadn’t gone far, that he could be relatively sure of. Someone disappearing suddenly like that, taking nothing but a sack full of food and a few weapons? They wouldn’t make it more than a few miles before stopping. Especially since the night watch had confirmed no one had left in the direction of the city. Luckily the Harbinger was more prepared.
_______
The sun had set long ago, and now Scaramouche watched as the moonlight danced upon the only lake in the area. He knew that his best bet was here.
The area was surprisingly beautiful, so much so that even Scaramouche could find some worth in it. The villagers had called it a valley, but really it was more of a canyon, most likely carved out from a glacier, back when gods walked the earth and humans still cowered in their caves. The grass around the lake was so green it seemed surreal, as if it were painted onto the earth, and an cattails and various grasses dotted the edge of the water. A miniature sort of lagoon lay to the north, the dense, low hanging trees obscuring it partially from view. Ethereal was the only way to describe it, anything more would’ve been pretentious and anything less would’ve been somewhat lacking.
The view was so mesmerizing that at first Scaramouche barely registered the shadow dotting the field. Quickly however he regained his senses. The figure was moving quickly, not erratic enough to be without a purpose, not staid enough to be dismissed as a cloud or a piece of flora. No, it was definitely a human, and definitely one who didn’t want to be seen. Smiling to himself Scaramouche leapt into the air. This was going to be at least somewhat interesting.
The figure jumped as soon as he hit the ground. Whirling around Scaramouche knew instantly it was you, the mysterious mystic he’d been looking for. Although, looking at your appearance it seemed more likely for you to be an invalid looking for someone with power, rather than being the source of said magic. The pallor of your skin was ghastly, and though you furrowed your brow and reached for your weapon your eyes were slightly glazed, your movements heavy and unsure.
“Well, what have we here?” Scaramouche smiled as you shrank back for a second. Despite his stature, he knew how to command a room, or a valley, when he needed to. You shook off his theatrics quickly enough though, scowling in response to his declaration.
“If you want me to do something for you, I’m afraid I’m fresh out of visions.”
“Oh? That’s not what I’ve heard. From what I know it seems like your talents never fail you. Unless, of course, you’ve given up on your scheme.” Instead of shock painting your face however you simply raised your hand to your face. Wobbling slightly on your feet you shook your head violently.
“Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not doing business, not before, not now, not ever. So if you could please leave me alone…” your voice faded. By now Scaramouche was sure something was wrong.
“What? Did you manage to get bit by something during your three day wildlife trip?” He sneered. You didn’t seem to hear him however. Staring him straight in the face the expression you wore could almost be described as a smirk.
“I’m going to faint now.” You deadpanned, before your knees buckled and you hit the ground so hard Scaramouche was sure that it was going to leave a bruise.
_______
Unfortunately the oppressive haze of passing out is much more difficult to handle when one is left stranded with an obnoxious stranger in the woods, a stranger who evidently has no intention of helping you. By the time you’d become properly aware of your surroundings they’d become so foreign as to be barely distinguishable from when you were fading in and out of consciousness.
You knew that you were in a tent, one so grand as to basically be a structure on its own. This, along with the cacophony outside, led you to the conclusion that whoever had picked you up – and you still weren’t sure who that odd purple haired man was, though asshole certainly seemed an apt term – they weren’t working alone. A peek outside proved you right, and to your horror you realized very quickly that not only were they not working alone, but that they were with, if not part of, one of the most despicable groups to ever walk Teyvat.
The hours passed, and the light from outside had significantly faded by the time the man came back, this time wearing something much flashier than before. The hat gave you all the information you needed.
“Harbinger.” You spat, glaring as hard as you could. For his part the man said nothing, only making the ghost of a bow, a smirk on lips.
“Feeling better are we? Really for someone supposedly blessed by the gods you have terrible stamina.”
“Try living through hundreds of fragments of fate and come back to me.” You shot back. Although you’d heard frightening stories of the Fatui, and especially of those who led them, you found irritation to be your main emotion. Apparently even fear can be bypassed if one is disgruntled enough. “What do you want anyways?”
“To see if you’re worth the reputation you’ve earned.” The man sat down on a chair so ornate it was almost comical. He stared right back at you, and if you hadn’t felt so drained you might’ve been uncomfortable. Still, you stood your ground.
“I’ve no interest in showing anything to the Fatui.” You kept your voice matter-of-fact. He was like all those other clients that ran to the village, only more vain and perhaps better with a weapon. Otherwise, well wasn’t he nothing at all?
“I’m not interested in your personal opinions. I have a duty to the Tsaritsa to make manifest her wishes through any means possible, and that might be quite a bit easier with one who can see the future.”
“I see many futures, not just the one that will pass. Besides, even if I could tell you exactly what will happen, I wouldn’t.”
“I could make you.” The man sneered, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Frustration welled up inside you as you stood your ground. You wouldn’t lose.
“No, you can’t.”
“Why not? Plan on fighting me?”
“I could just wait until you left for your Harbinger duties.”
“I’d tie you up.”
“I’d escape.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
“This conversation is getting nowhere.” The Harbinger leaned back in his chair, sighing in what appeared to be mock annoyance. You smiled, despite yourself.
“I very much agree. So, how about you let me go and I in turn pretend that you never neglected to give me emergency medical attention.”
“Who’re you going to complain to?” The man snorted. You just shook your head, smiling morphing into a smirk.
“Who says I’m going to complain? I could just burn down your tent instead.”
“Ah yes, I forgot you’re a vision user, in both senses of the word.”
“Was that supposed to be a joke?” You wrinkled your nose. “If so it wasn’t very funny.”
“I think what’s not very funny is the way this conversation is going.” The man leaned forward once more. “For all your talk, I doubt you could do half of what you threatened, considering you could barely survive on your own for three days.”
“And I think you’re underestimating me.” You replied, continuing to smile as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. “It seems we’ve reached an impasse.”
There was a pause, and as the Harbinger’s face grew cold you wondered if he might storm out. You hoped he would. You wanted to be left alone, to think, to process, perhaps even to look into the future. Not that you tended to look into your own. Divining one’s own path was notoriously taxing, and often it was nearly impossible to wade through the fog of diverging paths.
“Look into my future.” The words took you out of your reverie and you shot a confused look at the person sitting across from you. Seeing the look of suspicion on your face he laughed, and though the laugh was sharp and slightly ugly, it seemed somehow more genuine than the theatrical tone which he’d been employing beforehand. “Look into my future,” he repeated, “and if you see a fragment which is to your liking, then work for me.”
“I don’t work for the Fatui.”
“And I don’t lose an opportunity. Besides,” he raised an eyebrow, “I specified you’d work for me. There’s a difference.”
“Hardly.” You replied, but nevertheless you closed your eyes.
The feeling of falling enveloped you, and when you opened your eyes you weren’t in a tent but rather surrounded by fragments of glass. Each reflected a piece of the future, and as you reached out to look at them you found yourself almost overwhelmed by the emotions they carried.
The first path of the future was one of death. There he stood, bathed in blood, purple eyes glowing with magic, a sadistic smile plastered upon his face. Around him lay the mangled bodies of those you knew he had slaughtered. Sometimes they were warriors, sometimes they seemed to be the most ordinary sort of people. There was a pressure in your ears and for a moment you couldn’t breathe. These futures were dead ones, and their rot now seeped into your skin, filling your throat.
The second path was different, although one would be hard pressed to call them pleasant. In those he was the one who had fallen, eyes which had once been bright now dulled by the shadow of death. A maniacal laughter filled the air in one fragment, a triumphant cry of having murdered a monster; in another fragment there was weeping, and though you couldn’t place who it was the voice sound distinctly familiar. In those fragments you felt an emptiness, and though you knew the tears sliding down your cheeks were par for the course, you were still ashamed by them.
The third path was oddly detached from the rest. You could still feel the crackle of darkness in the air, one who had become a Harbinger would never be able to escape such a thing. But there was something else too. There he stood, staring off into the distance, expression opaque, eyes seeing not the landscape around him but something inside himself. There was the familiar muffled tones of someone speaking – you could never truly hear what anyone said – and he turned around. The ghost of a smile passed his face and he stepped towards whoever was calling him. You focused on one specifically, that in which he seemed happiest. The feeling of contentment, of happiness, enveloped you, mixing with shame when you found yourself staring back at you. Shock running through your system the fragments shook around you, shattering like glass at your feet as you fell back to the present.
“That seemed like quite the experience.”
There was amusement in the Harbinger’s voice, but you found yourself unable to answer him. Breathing heavily you tried to wrap your head around what you’d just envisioned. What in the name of the gods was that? Never before had you doubted your abilities, but now you prayed that you were wrong, prayed to anyone who could hear that you were mistaken. The residual feelings of the shard you’d just witnessed lingered, deepening your sense of unease, of shame. Happiness, how could you feel happiness? This man was a Harbinger, a menace to Teyvat, and you might… you couldn’t even finish the thought.
Wrenching your eyes shut you took a few deep breaths. Leave, you should just leave. Refuse his offer, what could he do? But now you couldn’t unsee the future, couldn’t erase the image from your mind. And though you scoffed at it, deep down inside of you something wished to reach out to that bit of the future once more, to ensure its survival. Exactly why, you couldn’t tell. You could tell yourself it was the horror of the rest of the fragments, but even that wouldn’t be quite accurate. This was the issue with looking into the future. It always ended up affecting the past. Wasn’t this one of the reasons why you’d wanted to leave? Now you’d carry the burden of knowledge with you forever, this one more painful than most.
“Are you going to faint again?” The words were rough but the tone was less so. Opening your eyes you stared into the man’s eyes. Was this what would set you on that path? It seemed so surreal. And yet you knew that it might still come to pass.
“No.” The word came out softer than you’d hoped. “I’m alright.”
He said nothing for a moment, while you in turn calmed yourself down. Finally though he grew impatient. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke once more.
“So, will you work for me?” You glared at him but said nothing. How could you answer it now. You couldn’t tell him what you’d just witnessed, it seemed taboo. Still, the situation had changed. Even if he didn’t know it, it had changed very much.
“Fine.” Your words surprised you, but only for a moment. You’d known, you’d known the moment you’d look into that sea of futures and felt that sense of happiness. It was too late. You’d folded. He’d won.
“Good.” At first the Harbinger stayed still, but soon enough he was standing up, moving towards the entrance of the tent. “I’ll get you what you need. Like I said you’ll be working for me, not for the Fatui, so we can work out the details of your contract ourselves.”
“Whatever you say…”
“Scaramouche.”
“Scaramouche.” You finished. Scaramouche smiled, and in it you saw a ghost of the future.
“And your name?”
“You’ll have to wait to get that answer.” You replied, feeling somewhat contrary.
“As you wish. Well then, mysterious clairvoyant, I look forward to our work together.” Scaramouche replied once more before stepping outside. You sighed, feeling the exhaustion of everything that had just passed. s
You’d taken a gamble with fate, for the future was still uncertain, and the days leading up to it were sure to be full of pitfalls. Still you were resilient. You’d make that future happen. No matter what.
And, if worst came to worst, you wouldn’t be the one crying when the world fell apart.
#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfiction#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#requested#oneshot#my writing
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FAKE DATE
Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER
Words: 10.822
Warnings: some cursing, fluff, mentioning of cheating
A/N: So.... this idea started as a quick idea for a one shot.... I guess, it got a little bit out of hand... but who cares... have fun... it's worth to read it
Summary: Your ex marries your cousin and because it's family, you have to attend there with a date. No matter how hard it would be for you. You talk with Crowe about it and she comes up with an idea: a fake date with one of her friends, Nyx Ulric. Nyx agrees reluctantly and even if he had sworn to himself to avoid meeting new people or rather to let them get too close … little did he know that you could change this plan without even knowing it…
"Crowe, it's horrible! I really tried to talk with my mother but she won't accept the fact that I don't want to come to this wedding. She said: 'We become a family. You're mature enough to work past all this'. Argh! I would love to scream.", you cried out, raking violently through your hair with your fingers.
"Yeah... Right... It's about maturity that you have to watch how your cousin marries your ex-boyfriend who had left you. For your cousin. This marriage is crazy. Since when do they even know each other?"
"For seven months.", you muffled into your hands.
"Wait! What? You met this idiot what? Ten months ago!"
"Yup. And then, we had a family meeting where he met my cousin. They got along pretty well. Maybe I should have sensed something there already. But I didn't.", you said heartbroken.
"So, he met your cousin behind your back, he cheated on you and your mother still wants you to join the wedding? Are really all of your family so stupid, sorry for that, to accept the fact that he’s a lying and cheating bastard?"
"Yes, they are!", you cried out, burying your face into your hands once again, "Just because he's some high-paid, upper class doctor. And you know what the worst is? I have to bring someone with me. A date. You know for the 'aesthetic'. It’s my mother’s twisted ‘perfect world’ thingy. But I don't have someone. I'm still hurt because of what he had done to me. I don't wanna meet someone new.", you breathed devastated.
Crowe nodded slowly, understanding your point because she was there as she had picked up the shattered pieces that had been your former self. Then, an idea popped up in her mind even if it was a tricky one, "YN, I might have a solution for your problem."
Slowly, you looked up, "Yeah... I already considered running away but I can't. My mother would find me everywhere."
Crowe chuckled, "No. Not that. Maybe we keep this running away idea as a back-up. No, I might have a solution for your date misery."
***
The next day, Crowe searched for Libertus and Nyx in the training area of the Kingsglaive headquarters. Finding them warping around, she watched them for a while before both men closed up to her for a small break.
"I will never really get used to this warping shit. My stomach makes somersaults all the time.", Libertus complained and rubbed over his stomach and chest to calm down the heartburn.
"Well, not every person is made for flying.", Crowe said teasingly what caused Nyx to chuckle and Libertus to roll with his eyes.
"So, what's up? It's a bit too early for you.", Nyx said, leaning against a pillar with crossed arms.
"Actually, I wanted to talk with you, Nyx. I... I need your help.", Crowe said carefully.
Nyx frowned as he saw the wariness in his friend's eyes, "And for what?"
"The thing is... I don't really need your help. It's rather a friend of mine.", Crowe said and saw how Nyx pressed his jaws together.
"Crowe? Is this another try to set me up with someone?", he asked serious.
Crowe gnawed on her lower lip, "No... Well... Not really?"
"Crowe! Come on. We already had that!", Nyx said serious, drawing his brows together.
Crowe raised her hands, "I know, I know. You made this clear the last time. But this is different. YN really needs help. Listen, their ex marries and they have to attend there-"
"Why? Why do they have to attend their ex' wedding?", Libertus asked confused.
Crowe grimaced, "Well, he's marrying their cousin."
"What?", Nyx and Libertus called out at the same time.
Crowe pinched the bridge of her nose, "It's a pretty shitty situation. This asshole cheated on YN with their cousin a few months after they started to date. But because he's such a great doctor, with much prestige and money, everyone seems to be cool with this wedding no matter how YN feels about this."
"Holy six...", Libertus whispered, shaking his head at how complicated this situation seemed to be.
"And why do you need me? What role shall I play in all this?", Nyx asked even if he already had an idea what would come next.
"Well... Not enough that YN shall be part of the wedding, they also shall bring a date along. Something about aesthetics or stuff. I dunno. Don't ask me. And that's the point where I need your help, Nyx.", Crowe said and looked at her friend with a pleading expression and a hopeful smile while Nyx stayed silent.
"Why don't you ask me for help?", Libertus asked, pointing at himself.
Crowe looked apologetically at the taller man, "Well, sorry, but I think Nyx is more of their type-"
"More of their type? Crowe!", Nyx called out, getting slightly agitated.
Crowe raised her hands in surrender, "Calm down. I don't wanna set you up with them. But YN shall bring a date to this already crazy and hilarious wedding. The idiot cheated on them for several months, left them and now, YN’s still very hurt. After the breakup and the announced engagement, they were a mess. I needed some time to collect all the pieces that were left from them. They're not able to date someone or to find someone new. So, I thought about a fake date. It's not a real date. You just have to act like it. Please, Nyx. You don't have to do much. Just accompany them to this wedding. Keep them company and distract them a little. Just have some fun."
Nyx considered the idea. He wasn't really in the mood for dates or weddings but he knew Crowe well enough. If she thought about this as a good idea, he really might be helpful. Nyx’ strong helper syndrome was now also kicking in once again, "So, just if I say yes, and I say if, what shall I do?"
On Crowe's lips grew a smile because she knew Nyx would say yes if he was already this far with his considerations, "Nothing much. You meet them. I guess they will pick you up or something. You attend the wedding in the church and the party afterwards together. That's it. You don't have any responsibilities except to be by YN's side as their date. Maybe support them a little bit during this whole carnival."
"And when shall this trickery be?", Nyx asked warily.
Crowe's face changed into a grimace once again, "That's the stupid part... It's this weekend."
"Crowe!", Nyx called out. It was already Wednesday.
"Hey! It's not my fault. YN also told me about it yesterday. Obviously, they tried to discuss this whole thing about the presence with their mother but she was very persistent with this point. Nyx, it's urgent. Next to you two, they're my best friend. I hate to see them suffer. It’s not fair because they’re a jewel of a person. That their ex shall get a happy ending after everything he had done is already the biggest joke. But now, he will become part of their family, as well. I really need your help.", Crowe begged.
Nyx took a deep breath and released the air slowly, "Alright, alright. I will do it. But", he said and raised his hand as Crowe already started to get excited, "I guess I need a tuxedo or something like this-"
"I will take care of that! You don't have to do anything like I said. I promise."
"Then, just one more thing. Maybe it would be better if we met before the wedding? You know, to check if we get along and if the chemistry is working."
***
"He did say yes?"
"You really had doubts?", Crowe asked with a smirk. Your reaction had been gold as she had told you that she had found a date for you: Nyx Ulric - one of her friends and colleagues.
In fact, you had heard a few things about him. That he was from Galahd, had lost his family and had a tendency to be a little bit gruff in front of others but with that he was just hiding his soft side, as Crowe had told you. To meet him and Libertus was long overdue, "Well... A little bit to be honest. I mean, he doesn't know me. I know we will just be acting but still it's like a blind date. What if we don't get along? It's all about chemistry and stuff..."
Crowe blinked and stared at you, "Well, I'm sure you two will like each other. In fact, Nyx mentioned the exact same doubts with the exact same words."
"Really? Well... it's maybe just coincidence.", you said, turning around to get something to drink from the kitchen.
But no matter how quickly you had been, Crowe had seen your blushing cheeks and grinned about it. It had been a long time since she had seen you like this: filled with life and pleasant anticipation.
"So, Nyx is okay with this whole fake date thingy?", you asked, while gnawing on your lower lip. You felt nervous to meet him even if he was a friend of Crowe.
Crowe smiled, "Don't worry, he is. You said you could get a tuxedo?"
"Yes! Of course. Just give me his size and I will take care of it. It's easy for me. Tomorrow, it can be here."
"Great. So, could I bring him here tomorrow? You two can meet and he can try on the tuxedo."
"Perfect idea. And I will cook something for us.", you said with sparkling eyes. You had no idea why but suddenly, you were even looking forward to meeting Nyx, your unexpected lifesaver.
***
"You said, I don't have to do anything.", Nyx complained as he made his way through the city the next day with Crowe by his side.
Crowe rolled with her eyes, "Yes and you really don't have to do anything except to try on one or two tuxedos, alright? It's not that I would drag you to a shopping trip. We meet YN at their place where you can try on the clothes. So, we will kill two birds with one stone."
Nyx had laid awake last night while thinking about this fake date idea. Sure, he wanted to help Crowe and her friend but that didn’t change the fact that there was a reason behind his reluctance to date new people. So, once again, Nyx asked himself if he really was doing the right thing…
*
As you heard the first knock at your door, you jumped by surprise. It was friday evening, the day before the wedding and it was arranged that Crowe and Nyx would visit you after they were done with their shift. But still, as your friend was there, you felt excited. You were even sick with nervousness to meet Nyx. He was the first guy you would meet after the horrible break-up and even if it was just a fake date, your hands became sweaty and your heart began to race.
The second knock brought you back to reality and you hurried to open the door, "Hey, guys. Come in-", you stopped as Crowe passed you and your eyes fell on Nyx who smiled at you warm and softly. Never in your life had you seen such a handsome, good looking man. Even your ex wasn't able to keep up with Nyx’ undeniable, rough sexiness. His eyes were the bluest and his lips the fullest. The stubble he sported and his greyish hair with the braids suited him perfectly. You noticed something wild in his appearance which got underlined by the tattoos on his face and ears. For the first time, you understood what Crowe had meant as she said that it was visible that Nyx was from Galahd. He wasn't hiding his roots and as it was for you, there was no reason for him to do this at all.
"YN?", Crowe asked as she saw you gaping at Nyx. Internally, she was pleased with herself. To see you like this told her that she had been right: Nyx was your type of guy.
Crowe's voice brought you back from your daydreaming, "Yeah... Sorry, I was just... Uhm...", you stammered.
Crowe grinned but stepped in to help you, "YN meet Nyx. Nyx this YN, my emotional support when I have to deal with too much of your bullshit."
You smiled thankfully, "Yeah... The support might be questionable nowadays.", you said shyly.
"That's okay. It will change again. I'm sure.", Crowe said.
"It's nice to meet you finally, YN. I heard a lot of great things about you.", Nyx said politely as you invited him in. As he and Crowe had gone to your place, Nyx was intimidated because of your fancy apartment complex. You were from Insomnia but because you were refugee friendly and even tried to help to improve the underground district your friendship with Crowe had been possible which calmed Nyx a little. But as you had opened the door, nervousness and excitement spread through his emotionally cold veins. Crowe had described you as nice, sweet and beautiful. But in Nyx' eyes, these words were far away from being suitable. Your eyes were clear and bright as you looked right into his soul. Your lips had such a rich color that they already looked delicious. Nyx knew he had to keep his composure together and actually he wasn't really interested in meeting new people as he always said like a mantra but you and your sweet appearance made it extremely difficult to stick to his plan.
"I'm sure Crowe made up a few things to let me look better.", you said chuckling.
As Nyx heard you laughing, his heart made a little jump and suddenly, he asked himself how it was even possible for someone to hurt you at all.
Pleased with Nyx' reaction about her friend, Crowe grinned, "No, I was always honest and I just told everyone how amazing you are."
"Liar. But that's okay. So, I... The tuxedos already arrived and the dinner is almost done. What about you try on the clothes, Nyx, and then, we eat?", you suggested.
"Sounds great.", Crowe said and went into the kitchen to check the oven for what you had prepared.
"Come on, I will show you the way.", you said to Nyx and guided him through your apartment into your bedroom, "So, Crowe gave me your sizes from your uniform. I got an anthracite and a black tuxedo. The only two colors my mother allows tomorrow. Just try them.", you said and shot the man next to a shy smile. Somehow, his scent was able to fill your small room so quickly that you knew it would be stuck there for a few days and you already were looking forward to it.
"Thanks.", Nyx said and cursed himself because he wanted to say more but he couldn't. Somehow, his tongue was tied up into a knot. Obviously, he had been out of training for human interactions a bit too long.
You were about to leave him alone before you stopped at the door once again, "I have to thank you, Nyx. I... If you wouldn't do that I'm sure I would die because of so many things tomorrow. I owe you really big. So, thank you really much.", you said with a shy smile and reddening cheeks. And before Nyx could say anything, you left the room and closed the door.
Nyx stared at the spot where you had stood. It was one thing to do Crowe a favor in helping you. But to see all these raw emotions mirrored in your eyes did something to him. Your voice had been filled with sadness even if you had tried to hide it. And somehow, deep empathy for you flooded his veins and anger towards your ex entered his muscles. He should accompany you? He swore to himself to do this and to watch out for you the whole evening. Because like Crowe, he already hated it to see you suffer.
*
"So, you like him, huh?", Crowe asked as you joined her in the kitchen.
You stared at your friend with shocked filled eyes, "I- I don't know what you mean.", you said defensive even if it wasn't really working.
Crowe grinned, "Come on, YN. I know you. And I saw how you were staring at Nyx. Therefore, you like him."
You felt your cheeks blushing and you even pretended to look after your cooking pots so you could avoid Crowe's smug smirk, "He's nice, yeah. I mean, I owe him a lot that he does this for me. I'm grateful for that."
"Yeah... Right. Grateful. Grateful with big, sparkling and hungry eyes-", Crowe said teasingly but got stopped by your elbow and in the next moment Nyx entered your kitchen to present himself. Crowe whistled, "Wow, look at this. I had no idea there could be a real gentleman underneath this gruff surface.", she said, which earned her an annoyed eye roll from the Glaive.
You smiled appreciatively, "Crowe has a point, tho. You look really great in this tuxedo.", you admitted. Indeed, Nyx had tried on the black tuxedo first and it was already a match. Because of the white suit shirt, his blue eyes seem to glow even more. His longer strands gave the tuxedo a nice, foreign touch you already liked, "If you ask me, you're done with testing. Is it comfortable?", you asked, checking the fit on his back.
"Yes, it's extremely comfortable. I had no idea it would fit so well.", Nyx admitted while the soft touch of your hands on his back gave him slight goosebumps.
"I'm not surprised. These are high-class tuxedos. They're very expensive. Don't worry, it's borrowed.", you explained as you saw Nyx' concerned expression, "No one should buy such things just for one evening. So, great. That was it. You're done. You can change again and then, dinner is ready. At least a little try to make it up to you and your time."
As Nyx disappeared in your bedroom once again, Crowe closed up on you with a smirk, "It's so good that I was right with my assumption that you two would fit together perfectly. And now, you will even have some eye candy to look at the whole evening. I'm the best friend you could ask for."
Instead of answering, you just rolled with your eyes even if she was right. But you wouldn't admit it out loud. Never.
*
"God, this was delicious, YN.", Crowe sighed satisfied as she leant back in her seat.
"I just can say the same. This was great. But if I may ask, what was it? I mean, I know the stuff you used but somehow the taste was … I never tasted like this before.", Nyx asked curiously. Whatever you had done, it was delicious but he never had found something similar in Insomnia before.
You chuckled, "Actually, it isn't something fancy. Vegetables, meat and rice. But the spices make the difference. You don't find these here in Insomnia. I got them from Lestallum. There's a huge market full of stands with spices and ingredients you won't find anywhere else. I like exotic stuff so this market is like a treasure."
While you had answered his question, Nyx was fascinated by the way your eyes started to glow in a new way. You were happy to talk about what you liked. Your happiness was contagious and made his heart jump. Nyx caught himself by the thought that this fake-date thingy wouldn't be as bad as he had thought in the beginning.
Crowe watched you and Nyx. She already saw the connection between you two and even if she respected your decision to be alone for a while after everything you had experienced, she saw that both of you were interested in each other. So, for her, it was the time to give you some space, "Oh, look. How late it got already. I have an early meeting tomorrow.", she said and jumped up from her seat, grabbing her jacket, "Thank you very much for this delicious meal and I wish you two a lot of fun tomorrow.", she said before she hurried out of your apartment.
Slightly speechless, you and Nyx looked after her. As Nyx met your eyes again, both of you were laughing. You looked at your clock on the wall, "Late my ass. We just have eight.", you pointed out while still laughing.
"You know what she's trying right?", Nyx asked with a grin.
"Of course. She's trying to set us up with each other."
Nyx shook his head with a grin, disbelieving that Crowe had pulled this trick, "And that although she knows that I don't want to date anyone.", he just said but regretted it immediately as he saw your face. It was a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Quickly, you tried to hide it behind a smile and that sight hurt Nyx even more than he thought, "Oh uhm... I- I didn't mean you... O-or this.. I.. I'm sorry, I...", he stumbled over his own words and cursed himself for speaking so mindlessly.
You waved with your hand to brush it aside with a weak smile, ignoring the disappointment, "Calm down. I know what you mean, Nyx. After what my ex had done, I'm also not much interested in dates. Don't forget that this will be just a fake date.", you said softly to reassure him before you collected a bunch of plates to be able to turn away from him.
But Nyx had seen the sparkling in your eyes that extremely resembled unshed tears. Once again, he cursed himself. Here he was, Nyx had promised to himself to protect you from everything that would happen at the wedding but was able to make you sad in his own way.
Quickly, he stood up, collecting the cutlery to go to your side, "Hey", Nyx said softly to get your attention, he smiled as you looked at him, "I'm sorry, YN. I didn't mean you at all. It's just...Crowe tried many times to matchmake me. It never ended well. I guess, it's because of my job as a Glaive. I try my best but... it's my work. I owe King Regis a lot for saving me. And I see myself forced to pay it back in protecting this city and its people."
"Don't apologize, Nyx. What you and the other Glaives are doing is honorable. Not everyone is able to cope with what you do all day for this city. If someone has a problem with that...well... it's just not the fitting person, I guess. The fitting person would always support you to make your life easier instead of making it more difficult.", you said and smiled.
Nyx was speechless about your caring words and your warm smile, "Thank you. You... I can see why Crowe cares so much about you. You're very sweet. And you know what? I'm looking forward to spending the day with you tomorrow."
You sniffled back a sob, "Thanks, Nyx. I'm sure it will be horrible tomorrow. Just the thought of seeing him makes me anxious right now. But to know you will be with me calms me already.", you admitted softly.
Nyx smiled but also wanted to change the heavy topic to something lighter, "So, about tomorrow. How shall we do it? Already have any plans?"
"Yeah, my idea was to pick you up but maybe it would be easier for you to come here so you don't have to carry the tuxedo around. I mean, if this would be okay for you?", you said while bringing Nyx to the front door.
"Sounds good. Oh, one thing. Shall I do something with my hair? It's not typical for Insomnian citizen-"
"No, please, don't!", you hurried but you looked away as you felt your cheeks blushing again.
Nyx chuckled, shooting you a smile as you looked back at him, "Don't worry. I won't change anything if you don't want to. I just want to make sure that you will have a nice day tomorrow."
***
The next day, Nyx knocked at your door as agreed. Once again he was excited to meet you. This time because he was looking forward to seeing you again. Usually, if Nyx was dreaming during the night, he had nightmares but the last night was filled with dreams about you. This morning, he was more rested and relaxed than ever before.
So, as you opened the door, Nyx was already smiling and happy but as he saw you, his smile faltered and his expression changed into staring, "Whoa, you look amazing.", he breathed.
Your small smile grew into something bigger that reached each of your ears, "Thank you. Come in.", you said excitedly and stepped aside to let Nyx into your apartment.
Ten minutes later, Nyx joined you in the kitchen, dressed in the tuxedo and ready. You prepared some coffee before the car would be there to pick you up, "So, what's scheduled for today?", he asked and closed the buttons on his cuffs. At least, he tried it.
You watched him fumbling for a few moments until you joined him for help, "In fact, everything's pretty timed. We will drive to the church were the wedding will be held. And after that we will drive further to the Caelum Via where the dinner and party will be. I just hope we can escape during the party when the official thing is over. So, it's done.", you said softly. Your fingers were brushing along Nyx' warm skin. You lingered a few seconds longer before you realized what you were doing.
Nyx felt the connection between you and him as well. Your touch was small, soft and warm and everything he wanted to feel again and again. As he saw your caught expression, he smiled at you to show you that it was okay and he saw that you understood.
Coffee, smalltalk and just being with each other let the time run too fast and as your doorbell rang for the arriving car you felt annoyed because this, with Nyx, was pure fun.
Nyx noticed the change in you and placed his hand on yours, "I will be with you all the time. Or, I will be close to you. You're not alone in this, okay?"
You nodded reluctantly but forced yourself to smile. And with Nyx by your side, you left your apartment for the worst day ever in your life.
*
But Nyx stuck to his word and was with you. The car brought you to the church and he was about to leave the limousine as he noticed that you weren't moving at all. Ignoring the driver's glance, he leant over to you, avoiding touching you in fear to scare you, "YN?"
You stared out of the side window. There was the church, the church you wanted to marry in one day. Not exactly your ex but generally. Flowers were decorated everywhere and between the different colorful plants stood your family. Your mother, your dad, both of your aunts and uncles and Matt...your ex.
Nyx followed your gaze and saw the group of people. Even without asking he knew it had to be your family, considering the fact how you were looking at them. Nyx noticed the younger guy in the festive attire and knew instinctively that it had to be the groom. The guy was tall, slim fit and looked like a lot of money. But the way he moved and talked was easy to dislike because he looked snobbish. Nyx saw your distress and felt sorry. He could just imagine what you were feeling right now, "Listen, we can go if you want.", Nyx suggested softly.
You shook your head, "I can't. We're family. My mother would kill me."
Nyx sighed low, "I know family is important but... you're also important. And if you think you can't handle this under these circumstances then it's okay. You don’t have to."
Slowly, you looked at him, already thankful to have him by your side, "I can do that. I have to."
Nyx nodded, accepting your determination before he left the car. The driver opened your door and as you left the car as well, Nyx was already waiting for you, offering you his arm to link your own with it.
As you two closed up on the group of your family members, your mother was the first to spot you. Suddenly, Nyx noticed a slight change in your behavior. You straightened yourself, you held your head high but the grip on Nyx' arm also became stronger.
"Darling! You look great.", your mother said, grabbing your shoulders to kiss you left and right of your face without touching your skin.
As she leant back, you saw the huge, happy smile on her lips that only money could produce, "Mother, you look lovely. The whole decoration is breathtaking.", you said with a huge smile.
It was fake. Nyx could already spot the difference because the smile didn't reach your bright eyes. Then, your mother's attention shifted over to Nyx and he swallowed thickly by the sight of her mustering glance at his appearance.
You noticed her glance as well and stepped in, "Oh, right. Mother, this is Nyx. Nyx, this is my beloved mother."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am.", Nyx said politely and even bowed a little.
Internally, you grinned about her surprised expression because she never had expected such good manners with a guy who had Nyx' looks. You knew her well enough to know what she thought.
"It's a pleasure for me. Where have you two met if I may ask?", your mother asked.
You knew it was a test and you knew how to play this game, "Through a friend. Nyx is working for King Regis."
"For the King? That's amazing."
You saw the sparkling in your mother's eyes but before she could say anything else, you took Nyx' arm to guide him away, "Excuse us, we will go inside. Searching for our seats.", you said and without waiting, you passed the group to go into the church.
As you two were out of earshot from your family, Nyx leant to you, "That was smooth."
You grinned, "Have you seen her eyes as I mentioned the King? That was pure greed. It doesn't matter if it is money or prestige. She loves it. I'm sure she thinks you're a member of the royal family. And that's the reason why it's okay for everyone that my cousin marries Matt. He's a doctor. A high-paid surgeon. Money and prestige.", you explained.
As you and Nyx sat down, a thought struck his mind. He was just not sure if he should ask or not-
"You wanna know how I could land him?", you said as you saw Nyx' glance.
"No, not how you could land him. Rather...what you saw in him. I don't know you for long but...such a guy? I'm not sure if he suits you well…"
You nodded, "Yeah...trust me, now? I know that, too. But as we met, he was…", you stopped as you remembered the early time with Matt, "We met accidentally in a bookstore. Somehow, we ended in the same row of bookshelves and he bumped into me. Obviously, he liked me so he invited me for coffee. I agreed because he can be extremely charming. But if I think about it now, we never had something in common. I was imagining things and was blinded by his looks. Although ...well…recently, I've met a guy who is more handsome than Matt will ever be."
Nyx knew you meant him. In the way you had said it and how you looked at him told him whom you meant. Nyx' heart skipped a beat by the thought of how you saw him. In his eyes, it wasn't fair. Here he was, sitting next to you, starting to like you. He was attracted to you and still, he didn't want to have any love interest. It always ended badly and that was the last thing he wanted for you. Nyx wanted to say something, to lower your interest in him, but the wedding started and cut him off.
*
The ceremony was beautiful and romantic. You had to admit that even if you hated it. Your cousin looked wonderful and as they both brought up their vows in a solemn way, you had to suppress a tear because it was sweet and lovely what they swore to each other. Just the point 'I will never love someone else next to you' from Matt caused you to roll with your eyes. It was pathetic.
Most of the time, Nyx tried to stay focused on the wedding but it wasn't easy. His brain was busy with different things. On the one hand, he searched for a way to keep you on distance but whenever he had an idea, Nyx asked himself 'why?'. Why should he stay away from you when you were interested in him? He was interested in you, too. You were attractive, sweet and nice but also hurt. The last thing Nyx wanted was to take advantage of your sore emotions or to be the reason to get hurt even more.
"Nyx?"
Your voice brought him back to reality and he realized that the church emptied slowly, "Sorry, I was thinking about something."
"Totally get it. This wedding was...I don't know. Maybe it was the sweetest thing I have ever seen or the most hypocritical. But no matter what it was, it's over now."
"Then, if I may?", Nyx asked and offered you his arm once again.
Smiling, you took his arm and walked down the aisle with Nyx to leave the church.
*
As you reached the festive decorated ballroom of the Caelum Via, Nyx wasn't surprised anymore. You had told him that your family and even Matt's had a lot of money and they loved to show it. But even if you were dressed in something expensive and even if you knew how to act properly amongst all the other high society people, Nyx noticed that it wasn't really your world. You had been forced into it by blood and family relations.
You introduced Nyx to everyone you met on your way to your table. And not for one second, Nyx felt misplaced by you. You even gave him the feeling as if you were proud to have him by your side.
"Holy six, we have made it.", you sighed as you slumped down on a seat of the table you were aiming for, "Once again, I have to thank you."
Nyx smiled softly, "But I've done nothing."
"You're here. You're by my side. And you're not running away after meeting my family. You keep me sane. I would say you do enough."
Nyx watched you but he was sure he was right with his assumption, "You don't have the best bond with your family, do you?"
You chuckled dryly, "No, not really. It's better now but...I haven't become a lawyer like everyone else, tho. I mean, even my mother had been a secretary in a law office. There, she met my dad, who’s a lawyer. Like my uncles."
"So, you're kinda the black sheep?", Nyx asked amused and saw himself as confirmed: this world was not yours.
"Oh, yeah. You have no idea. That I dated Matt had raised my prestige in their eyes but…", you stopped as Matt and your cousin entered the ballroom under loud cheering, "I have no idea what I was for him. Time distraction? Toy? I mean, we had fun and I feel so stupid for not seeing anything coming."
Nyx had no idea what he should say to comfort you. Maybe there was even no way to comfort you at all. Things like this needed time to heal. But somehow Nyx got the impression that you were stronger than you seemed to be right now.
You wanted to say something but your mother and dad joined your table and gone was the calmness you had felt during the last few moments.
"Darling, have you congratulated Matt and your cousin?", your mother said, placing one hand on your shoulder and one on Nyx'.
That touch looked more possessive than you liked to see, "Of course, I did.", you said with a charming smile.
"Wonderful! Wasn't the wedding a dream? And the vows! I really had to suppress a tear."
"Yes, mother, it was wonderful.", you agreed.
"And you, Nyx? Everything's-", but your mother got called over by your aunts and excused himself again. Even your dad excused himself again.
Nyx waited till she was out of earshot before he turned over to you, "You haven't congratulated them, have you?"
"Of course not.", you said with a huge grin that made Nyx chuckling. You liked the way he smiled. You already liked his presence. He was calm and quiet but knew how to tell his stories to entertain you.
Quickly, the dinner got served and was done and the last part of this circus started: the party. You knew you couldn't leave right away. Even if you wanted to run away as far as you could, it wouldn't look too good. So, you stayed until you would find a good moment to escape.
"Hey, you wanna get some fresh air?", Nyx asked as he saw how you were watching Matt dancing with his partner closely to a slow, romantic song.
Like awakening from a trance, you blinked with your eyes and nodded as you looked at Nyx and his warm, encouraging smile. As you stepped out, you breathed in the fresh breeze with closed eyes.
Once again, Nyx caught himself staring at you in a fascinated way. While you walked across the balcony to the handrail, Nyx followed you slowly and thanked Crowe silently that he had met you, "How do you feel? You're still okay?", he asked carefully.
You turned over to him, "Yes. Yes, I'm feeling good. As I watched them dance, I noticed the way Matt looked at my cousin. He never looked at me this way and I'm… I'm getting okay with it. If they're happy then I don't care. Maybe this wedding was the right cure."
Nyx was impressed how strong you really were. He was sure that you were still hurt but it looked as if you were on the right way.
"Can I ask you something?", you asked, gnawing on your lower lip.
"Of course. I'm at your service no matter what it is. So, what do you desire to know about me?", Nyx said solemnly and smirked as he heard you chuckling.
"I know Crowe can use the King's magic. So, I guess, all Glaives are able to do that?"
"Yes. That's why we're members of the Kingsglaive. Not everyone is able to use these powers so, just the 'best' or talented of the refugees get picked out.", Nyx explained.
You nodded slowly, "It's too bad that refugees get used to fighting battles to secure this city instead of the citizens who actually live here.", you said while letting your eyes roam over the skyline of Insomnia.
"I'm okay with that. I mean, Niflheim attacked my home, Magiteks killed my family. If I can fight against them, I know I do the right thing. Taking revenge. At least as good as I can.", Nyx said low and also watched the scene in front of him.
"I'm sorry for your loss. Crowe told me about it once. Nothing much, just a few things. Is… Is this also the reason why you try to keep people away from you? In fear you could lose them as well?", you asked carefully. Maybe you were too bold but you felt a connection to Nyx that gave you the courage to ask these things.
With a sad expression, Nyx nodded. He was surprised that you had figured him out this quickly but maybe he wasn't such a riddle or you were really attentive when it came to him, "Yeah... you're not so wrong. I know how it feels to lose loved ones so I don't wanna put someone else through this as well. And as a Glaive things can turn bad really quickly.", he said and watched your reaction.
"I guess you're right."
Nyx nodded and felt an unknown pain stinging his heart that you thought like this as well.
"But", you started again, looking straight into Nyx eyes, "I got to know you a little bit today. Trust me, I understand your point but as I said yesterday, the right person wouldn't see a problem with that. I mean… you shouldn't be alone Nyx. No one should. And if you think life is so short for you, you should stop being alone and start to make the best out of the time you still have.", you whispered.
Without noticing, Nyx had closed up on you forced by your words. Unknowingly, you had hit a point: he was alone...rather he was lonely. He felt lonely when he was done with the training and went back to his empty home. He felt lonely when he came back after an exhausting fight on the battlefield. When he felt lonely, the flashbacks and nightmares became worse and darker. These were the times where he wished to have someone by his side who would be there for him. Who would drag him out of the darkness because their light was so much brighter than every shadow would ever be. Bright like your glowing eyes and your charming smile.
Slowly, Nyx leant forward and raised his hand without thinking about it. He just wanted to feel your skin under his touch. Softly, he placed his hand on your cheek and saw your surprise but you stayed where you were as if you wanted him to continue. Driven by your alluring scent, he closed the gap slowly and-
SCREESH!!!
The cry of a bird that flew above your heads let both of you jump away from each other. You and Nyx were breathing heavily while you two recovered from the shock. You smoothed down your clothes to distract yourself while Nyx ran a hand through his hair to do the same.
The situation became awkward but Nyx wanted to show you that everything was alright. At the same time, he wanted to show himself that everything was still alright between you and him, "Hey...uhm… You wanna see some magic?", he asked softly, almost shy.
You smiled, thankfully that Nyx had sensed the awkward tension, "I would love to.", you said while still recovering from the surprise that Nyx wanted to kiss you. Not that you would have stopped him…
Nyx grinned and raised his right hand. He showed you the bare palm and in the next moment, sizzling flames were dancing over his skin as if they were following a rhythm no one could hear. Nyx checked your reaction and was pleased as he saw your sparkling eyes, illuminated by the flames, and the growing smile.
Fascinated, you watched the flames. You felt the urge to touch them but as you closed up on the flames with your forefinger, you already felt the warmth so, you retreated your hand again, "It's hot! I don't know why I'm surprised but… Don't they hurt you?", you asked concerned.
Nyx chuckled, "No, not at all. If you can use elementary magic, you're safe. It's just painful for your enemy.", he said with a grin and was happy to see you smile again.
"Can you just produce fire? Or is there more?", you asked excitedly, totally hooked about the fact how cool this skill was.
"Two more. Lightning", Nyx said and killed the flames by closing his hand before his fist got enveloped by small, twitching bolts that ran across his hand like busy worms. But they became a bit too fast and 'overexcited' and Nyx casted them away before something could get hit by them, "And then, there's ice.", he said and changed the bolts into a subtle fog.
You leant forward to look closer but even in the dim light from the candles and the light coming from the ballroom, you noticed small, sparkling ice particles which were swirling through the fog. Whenever light hit them, they were glittering in every possible color like a prism, "I- I… that's so beautiful. I mean, it sparkles like millions of diamonds."
Nyx chuckled, he never had seen the magic he used on a daily basis as what it actually was: magic. It was something not many people could control. It was indeed something special, usually just reserved for the royal family and yet, he was also able to produce ice and let your smile grow even bigger than before as you had seen the fire, “I don’t know but I guess to see the world through your eyes must be wonderful. You seem to be delighted by the smallest things.”, Nyx said low but smiled as you looked up with a now shy smile on your lips.
“Life is more than just money and prestige. We are surrounded by wonders barely someone sees anymore. I mean, for example in Lestallum, the city uses the energy of a meteor that lies there for centuries. You should see the magical view by night. The golden and blue light dancing into the sky. I swear you never had seen something like this before.”, you said excitedly and once again, you noticed how Nyx was staring at you. It wasn’t unpleasant. Rather quite the opposite. It was a silly thought but somehow you had the feeling that Nyx could see more in you than just a little flirt and a nice kiss at some wedding.
It was crazy. As Crowe told you Nyx would be your type of man, you had laughed about it. After everything Matt had done you needed a break from dates and men and love and all these things. You didn’t want to quit it forever just a little longer but obviously your friend saw it differently and silently, you already thanked her.
Once again, Nyx was mesmerized by you. The way you saw things. How you looked at the world. How you looked at him. He was sure you weren’t flawless - no one was. But no matter what kind of flaws you would have, he wouldn’t care about it. He would deal with everything as long as he could keep you in his life. Giving him the magic he had lost somewhere in his life. Maybe you could be friends or … maybe even something more.
Nyx killed the ice and once again, he leant in for another attempt to kiss you. The moment was perfect again. The way you looked into his eyes and how your lips slightly parted told him what he needed to know - you wanted the same. So, he stepped closer, cupping your face with both hands softly as if you were made out of glass and while you leant forward to meet him on the half way, Nyx leant forward to kiss you-
"Hey, YN, can we talk for a moment- Oh! I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?", Matt asked and grinned amused as he saw you and Nyx jumping away from each other like caught teenagers.
You cursed internally because it was the second interrupted kiss and you had no idea how many times Nyx would try his luck considering the fact that he even was willing to go this step at all.
Nyx saw that you were annoyed. And he felt the same. He had noticed that you wanted the kiss as well so it was clear for him to try it again but maybe all the interruptions were just signs for him to let it slip? Maybe he shouldn’t try his luck because he was still the Glaive who could die during the next battle. He looked from you at Matt who closed up slowly no matter if his timing had been good or not. And suddenly, Nyx saw that the guy had done this on purpose. He saw it in Matt’s gleaming eyes and in his smirk that he was amused about the fact to humiliate you once again. But as you had said before, he was part of your family now and maybe Matt just wanted to apologize or something. So, Nyx did the only logical thing that came to his mind, "Is it okay for you? I will get something to drink for us then.", he asked carefully, watching your reaction.
You weren’t amused about the idea to be alone with Matt but you nodded. You understood that Nyx might need a break. You waited till Nyx was gone before you crossed your arms over your chest, “You wanted to talk?”
"Yeah, this guy… Tell me, what did you have to pay him so that he would accompany you to this wedding as your date? I’m sure he’s a stripper or something like this. Poor soul-", the loud slap into his face let Matt stop in his sentence. While holding his stinging cheek, he looked back at you, surprised that you were even able to have such a power.
With raging eyes, you stared at him, standing your ground in front of him for the first time. All the anger and sadness you had felt had laid in this one single slap and even if you were no fan of violence, you noticed how relieving this had felt. It had been long overdue, "Don't you ever dare to talk like that about him ever again. He's a Glaive! Protecting you and everyone else in this city with his life."
"Oh, interesting! So, he's just a refugee? He’s not from here? Fascinating with what kind of people you spent your time with. Your mother will be pleased to know that.", Matt said with a smirk, turning around to go back into the ballroom to find your mother.
You called Matt back and he stopped, looking expecting at you with one raised brow. You saw the surprise about your courage in his eyes but the thing was your strength was never gone you just had forgotten to use it. You just needed a trigger to get back to your old self and Matt had found this point without knowing it. So, you stepped forward, keeping eye contact until you stood right under Matt’s nose. With a low but serious voice and a lopsided smirk on your lips you said: "You know, it doesn't matter what he is or not. It doesn’t matter what you or anyone else will think. He’s a soldier and it’s honorable. It doesn’t matter where Nyx comes from. And besides, Galahd was a beautiful, magical and unique place before Niflheim decided to destroy this jewel. No matter what you will do or say to whomever, Nyx will always be more of a man than you will ever be in your entire life, you little, lying cheater.", you said and ended your little speech with a sweet grin as you saw Matt’s shocked and surprised expression.
As you watched satisfied how Matt disappeared back into the ballroom and into the world he belonged to, your eyes landed on Nyx who stood there in the door frame with two drinks in his hands and staring right at you with big eyes.
With a soft, warm smile you walked over to Nyx, taking one of the drinks from his hands, “So, you heard what I said, I guess?”
“Y-yeah, actually every single word.”, he whispered, still not believing what you had said about him, “You had defended me in front of him. I- I mean, I have no idea what he did so you would react like this but … it was impressive to watch and … flattering.”, Nyx said honestly.
You nodded before you gulped down the stiff drink in one go to calm your nerves, “You know, to talk back to this asshole was long overdue. And … as long as he was attacking me it was okay but you … You don’t deserve this. Never. From no one. And mostly not from one person in this room.”, you said and somehow Nyx’ eyes were sparkling even more. Emotions were staring back at you which seemed to be buried away for a very long time.
Nyx, who was still flashed by you, closed the small gap, cupped your face and leant down to kiss you and this time, it worked. As he felt your warm, soft lips, he couldn’t believe it. An emotionally lightning shot though his body and electrified him within seconds as if he had been dead before for years. Your lips tasted as sweet as he had imagined and that you moved along with him gave him goosebumps.
Your heart skipped a beat as Nyx kissed you. It was perfect. It was the only way you could describe this whole scene: as perfect. Nyx’ full lips were warm and demanding in a sensual way. He kissed you not to say something he couldn’t find words rather because he just wanted you. To pull him closer, you grabbed into his suit shirt and jacket what caused Nyx to chuckle about your eagerness but you didn’t care. Like a thirsty plant for water, you were thirsty to taste more of Nyx.
Slowly, the kiss increased as both of you opened your mouths to taste each other's tongues, exploring each other. Nyx still tasted the stiff alcohol on you and breathed in your breath while deepening the kiss. He moved his hand from your face down to your back to pull you closer-
“YN! That’s not appropriate behavior for a wedding!”, your mother called out.
Slowly, you left Nyx’ lips, not seeing any reason to hurry at all. With a stupid grin you looked into the most perfect blue eyes you had ever seen which were sparkling with so much fire and joy as if their light had been rekindled after a very long sleep.
Nyx matched your grin and was still holding you in his arm, snaked firmly around your waist, not ready to let you go just now. Gently, he nudged your nose with his own, “What do you want to do now, YN? Any plans?”, he asked.
“We will leave this place. Together. Come on, Glaive.”, you said, taking his hand in yours to leave the balcony. As you passed your mother, who stared at you in shock, you said: “Goodnight mother, we will leave. Usually, I would say ‘it was a nice evening’ but that would be a lie.”, you said and stepped forward before you stopped once again, “Oh, and I didn’t congratulate the bridal couple because, well, for reasons. But I’m sure they will be happy together. Something tells me they deserve each other.”, and with that said, you left the wedding with Nyx.
Your mother was calling after you but you ignored her. But if you would have turned around one last time, you would have seen how your dad was grinning and cheering for you because in his eyes, you had done the best move possible.
*
While the driver of the limousine drove the two of you back to your place, none of you said something. You were just cuddling. As Nyx had entered the car, you had scooted over to him immediately, leaning your head against his chest while he laid his arm around your shoulders. You had intertwined your fingers with his and with your thumb you drew small patterns on his skin while you were smiling stupidly.
Nyx followed his own thoughts while burying his nose into your hair to breathe in your scent. But none of his thoughts were dark anymore. Rather, he asked himself why he had withdrawn himself the whole time and thought he would do the right thing? The only one he was punishing was himself and with you, he realized that he had done it far too long. The first kiss had been enough to spark the dying flame of all his hopes and dreams again. But the flame wasn’t just some smoldering. It was a roaring fire that filled his chest with all the emotions he had sealed somewhere deep all these times before. Just one kiss with you had been able to break this firm seal.
There was no turning back and Nyx would fight like on the battlefield to let this fire burn till he would die…
Still cuddled to Nyx’ side, he brought you to your floor and to the apartment door. You were about to open the door which would mean the end of the night as you turned around, flinging your both arms around Nyx’ neck to kiss him longingly.
Nyx didn’t need to get asked twice. He pressed you against the door, letting his hands roam over the fabric of your clothes to get a first feeling of your curves while he noticed how your fingers found their way into his hair. You played with the longer strands, tracing down the braids and stopping at the beads you found. Alone this touch was enough to make Nyx hungry for more.
You were surprised how soft his greyish hair really was. The whole evening you had asked yourself how Nyx’ hair would feel between your fingers but reality was so much better than what you had thought. Unfortunately, your lungs demanded oxygen and so, just very reluctantly, you left Nyx’ lips. He rested his forehead against your and was as breathless as you were but he was also grinning. Still playing with his hair, you pushed yourself to ask the question you wanted to ask, “You… Would you like to come in?”, you asked hopefully that he would say yes. For you, the night was still not over.
Nyx leant back, looked into your eyes and chuckled before he smirked about your confusion, “Of course, I want to come in. My clothes are still in your apartment. Remember?”, he teased.
“Oh, right… your clothes.”, you said, grinning from ear to ear, “How inconvenient this coincidence is.”, you teased back.
“Just open the door and I’m sure your clothes will join mine pretty soon.”
***
Two months later…
You stood in your kitchen, preparing the morning coffee as you did every day. The rising morning sun was illuminating your apartment in a magical, golden light. It was this kind of light and the smell of the brewing hot liquid that made it easy for you to lose track of your thoughts. Just two strong arms around your middle brought you back to reality and conjured a lovestruck smile on your lips.
You turned around in the arms to face Nyx who was matching your smile even if it was a tired one. Even his hair was tousled and so, you smoothed down the long, stubborn strands before you pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, “Good morning, handsome.”, you whispered.
“Morning, babe. I missed you in bed. I wanted to cuddle.”, he said, pouting.
You chuckled softly, feeling sorry to disappoint him, “I know but I have this important call in an hour and have to do a few things before- hey! Let me down! Nyx!”, you shrieked, laughing by surprise. Nyx had grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder. With you hanging upside down, he carried you back to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as Nyx let you carefully down on the mattress, “Nyx, come on. I don’t have time.”, you chuckled while he was crawling on top of you, kissing along all the bare skin of yours he could find.
“You said one hour. That gives me still forty minutes to have some fun with you. And then, you will still have some time to prepare whatever you want.”, Nyx said between a bunch of hot kisses along your collarbone before he continued over your neck, your weak spot he had figured out really quick.
You sighed, obeying him and his lips as you always did when he was in this kind of mood. It were two months you dated Nyx and it was still thrilling like in the beginning, “But this call is important. It’s with my dad. You know, because of the contracts I need for the refugee foundation.”, you moaned while Nyx bit into your neck. It was already difficult for you to keep your thoughts straight.
Nyx leant back, looking at you with a smirk, “With your dad, huh? He will understand it if you need some extra time. Don’t forget that he likes me. A lot. So, stop trying to resist me. It’s not even working. Just obey me and my lips.”, he breathed, leaning down, “I know you want me.”, Nyx whispered and kissed you passionately that you melted underneath him. Like you always did.
*
And Nyx was right. You were delayed and you apologized a hundred times to your dad but as you mentioned Nyx, your dad was understanding and brushed it off with a smile and a bunch of questions about Nyx and how he would be doing. In fact, since the wedding two months ago, your whole life had taken a complete turn.
After the wedding, Nyx stayed the night. And the next night. And the night after that. Quickly, the two of you had developed a deep, loving and strong relationship and three weeks later, you followed your heart: you had asked Nyx to move in with you. You didn't need much persuasion because Nyx was looking forward to being able to spend more time with you.
Your mother had called you after the wedding, scolding you for your behavior and how you could dare to bring a refugee as a date. But quickly, you gave her a talk about how bigoted she was and that she had to be more open minded if she wanted to keep you in her life. Very slowly, she realized that you meant what you said and gave in. She needed a bit more time but after a while she started to like Nyx, too.
It was helpful that your dad liked Nyx from the start. After the wedding, your dad had called you to congratulate you for your impressive act in front of your mother before you had left. In fact, he also had heard your little speech you had given Matt as you had defended Nyx and was proud about this as well. You had been speechless because til this day, you never had thought your dad would be proud about anything you ever did. And because the ice was broken between you and him, you talked about everything.
So, three weeks after the wedding, as you, Nyx, Pelna, Libertus and Crowe sat at Yamachang’s, you came up with an idea. You loved spending time with Nyx, Crowe and the others. You loved being in the underground of Insomnia where the refugees were living. You loved the different foods and the music, the atmosphere was unique and exotic but the circumstances the refugees had to live in were questionable. So, you had the idea to do something against it. You were already a big fan of the different cultures and you were convinced Insomnia would benefit as a city if it would use this unknown knowledge.
And with the help and support of your dad, who was hooked by your idea immediately, you started and planned a foundation to help the refugees. The infrastructure of the underground had to be changed and some things had to get modernised while the heart and the soul of everything had to be preserved.
You never congratulated Matt on his wedding and if he was at family meetings, you just refused to come as well. Your mother was raging. Your dad had your back with the most creative excuses. But now and then, when you were awake at night, and while you were watching Nyx sleeping next to you peacefully, you thanked Matt for cheating on you. Otherwise, you would never have found this treasure of a man who had turned your world upside down.
You never thanked Crowe for setting you up with Nyx and you didn’t have to because you knew she was already proud of her matchmaking skills. To see two of her best friends finding happiness and love in each other was enough regard for her.
Because in the end, she had done nothing more than finding a fake date for you, a friend in need…
#nyx ulric x gender neutral reader#ff15 nyx ulric#nyx ulric x female reader#final fantasy nyx ulric#kingsglaive nyx#nyx ulric x male reader#nyx ulric x reader#nyx ulric#final fantasy kingsglaive#final fantasy 15
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