#people on ff.net have some fucking nerve.
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You're Still Young.
C*DFIA SHIPPERS DNI OR READ.
CW: nail biting.
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Princess Sofia hastily opened the door to her mentor's workshop, unknowingly making a ruckus as she forced the door open and slammed it behind her.
“Sofia! Will you ever learn to knock!? This is highly dangerous, you know!?” Cedric scolded, having barely kept his newest potion in his hands after jumping a mile.
Cedric put the potion down on his desk, and turned around to the now sixteen-year-old, just in time to see her crumble to the floor, breathing heavily.
“Sofia……?”
Cedric made his way over to Sofia, his own breath picking up, and knelt down to her.
He looked over her face, her arms, her legs, anywhere that she could be hurt. Cedric wasn’t exactly good at telling people’s emotions, but even he could tell Sofia was distressed, he just needed to find out why.
“Sofia? What’s wrong?....Sofia, you’re worrying me.”
Sofia took another deep breath to try and regain her composure. It helped her a bit, but she wasn’t any more composed.
“Mr Cedric…” she whispered out, head in her hands.
Cedric’s mind raced as he thought of what to say. You’d think when he’s known her for over 8 years he’d know how to comfort her, but clearly not.
'Where is Baileywick when I need him?' Cedric thought briefly. The man seemed to appear when Amber lost her favourite tiara but not when he had a hyperventilating princess in his workshop.
“Sofia, are you alright?” he tried. Sofia took her head from her hands and looked at him, eyes pleading-but he didn’t know what for. “You’re going to have to talk to me,” he said, hoping it didn’t come off too harsh.
“Help me….” Sofia uttered.
Cedric sighed, but took her hand and helped her up from the floor.
With one arm around her waist to keep her from falling to the floor on her shaky legs, he guided Sofia to one of the stools by his desk. He quickly grabbed a potion from his large drawer full of ingredients, spare potions, and whatever else he’s thrown in there. “Here,” he said, unscrewing the cork and passing the purple-y potion to her. It was a calming potion. Hopefully, it would ease her enough to tell him why she was so distressed.
Sofia downed it, ignoring the disgusting taste of the liquid- really what does he put in those things? Frog spawn? It’s probably frog spawn.
Cedric took the vial from her and placed it down. The weird mixture seemed to work, as Sofia’s breathing evened out and her hands stopped shaking.
“What’s wrong, my dear?” Cedric asked, calmer himself. “It’s too much….” Sofia sighed, taking off her tiara and placing it on one of Cedric’s open books. Cedric nodded, beckoning her to continue. “I’m behind on homework and I keep failing! There’s a test I haven’t studied for! Dad wants me to go open something at the village but I don’t have time! Amber refused to do it and James is busy with school! There's a ton of other stuff dad wants me to do and I don't even know what half of them are!! I have so much to do and-”
Her head fell in her hands once again, her elbows resting on the desk. She felt Cedric’s hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be alright, Sofia.”
“No, it won’t!!”
Cedric jumped at Sofia’s tone. She was always so soft-spoken. He's only been yelled at by her a handful of times, and all those times he had seriously messed up. She must be incredibly stressed.
“I-I’m sorry, Mr Cedric…” Sofia whispered, now looking at him with the most apologetic eyes Cedric’s ever seen. It was quite adorable, but, albeit upsetting. “It’s alright, princess. I was a bit snappy with you earlier as well.” Cedric moved some of her hair away from her forehead. “I just don’t know what to do. I’ve tried telling Dad, but he won’t listen!”
Cedric grumbled at that. The hypocrisy! When they were young, Roland went on and on about how much his father pressured him about being king and was giving him too many responsibilities, now he’s doing the exact same thing! And Sofia isn't even in line to be queen! It was cruel.
“Would you like for me to talk to him, my dear?” Cedric asked, his voice overly sweet to hide his distaste. He usually didn’t go out of his way to talk to Roland, but that king needed some serious humbling!
“No, I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Sofia told him, now slowly tracing the gems on her tiara. 'God, she was so sweet,' Cedric thought. Could she think about herself for even a moment? She was always thinking about what was best for those around her, why can't she think about what was best for herself for once?
From the corner of his eye, Cedric caught a glimpse of Sofia’s fingers.
“Sofia, what happened to your nails? Have you been biting them, by chance?”
Sofia glanced at him, then pulled her hands from her tiara to hide her nails against her dress. 'I can’t let Mr Cedric see them, he’d be so worried!' She thought. She knew her mentor got easily worried about her, she couldn’t possibly worry him even more.
“Um, no.”
Cedric raised an eyebrow at her. “Come on, let Mr Cedric have a look.” He held his hand out to her, and she reluctantly placed her hands against his. “Oh, my dear.”
Sofia’s fingers were completely torn apart. Her nails were jaggedy and just past her nail beds. Cedric could tell they had been bleeding quite recently, as well as being incredibly sore. It was at that moment that he decided he was talking with Roland. He didn’t care if he got kicked out of the castle for speaking up. He wasn’t going to stand by and let his apprentice rip her fingers to shreds because she had too many responsibilities for a girl her age.
Cedric pulled his wand from his robe. “What are you doing, Mr Cedric?” “One moment, dear.”
Cedric muttered a quick spell under his breath, gave a small wave of his wand, and Sofia’s fingers were healed, as well as painted with a fresh coat of purple nail polish. “There we go, good as new.”
Sofia smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said, taking a look at her nails. “Try not to bite them anymore, alright? It’s a nasty habit.” She nodded.
“Now, I’m going to talk to your father later, because this is by no means okay.”
Sofia’s eyes widened. “But-But I don’t want you to get in trouble!”
“Sofia,” Cedric took her hands in his, “under no circumstances is this alright. You are a child, he should not be making you juggle all of these damn things at once. This is not what a father should be doing to their own child. I…I won’t allow it.”
Cedric took a deep breath. “If you were my daughter, I can tell you, I’d want to be told I was doing this to you. If Roland can’t handle the truth, then that’s on him, isn’t it?”
Sofia pursed her lips.
If you were my daughter.
My daughter.
Deep down, Sofia knew that Cedric was like a father to her. Maybe even a little bit more than Roland was. She loves him of course….but he almost never has time for her. Whenever she went to him it was always "I'm sorry, darling, but, can it wait?" Then when she asks again, it just repeats. It wasn’t as bad when she was younger, but the older she got, the farther they grew apart. It felt as if he didn’t even want to make time for her!
Meanwhile, Cedric always welcomes her into his workshop with open arms. Even when he's busy, he lets her help out and they'll chat back and forth, then of course their weekly sorcery lessons. She'd never admit it out loud, but she's almost called him "Dad" quite a few times. Luckily, she caught herself and replaced it with "Mr Cedric" before it was too late.
After a while, she learnt that Roland would simply shoo her off, and Mr Cedric would engage with her, answer her question, help her with her homework, go with her to visit a shop in the village, listen to what she had to say, read her report cards and praise her when she learnt a new skill. He treated her like any good father would treat their daughter. But she had no idea if he felt the same way. Did he think of her as his daughter? Or just his apprentice and friend? Or maybe a younger sister? Or even a niece, like Calista?
“Princess?”
Sofia jumped a little bit. She must have spaced out. She’s been doing that quite a lot lately. “I won’t get in trouble. I just want to tell him that he needs to go easier on you. That’s all.” That was a lie. Cedric was infuriated. How could a father put so much stress on their child, especially one as sweet as Sofia, even after they said they were struggling? If Sofia looked even a tad tired during their sorcery lessons, he’d quickly finish up and tell her to go take a nap if she wished. If he could, he'd be off to Roland right now, but Sofia needed his support. She was more important.
“Alright, but promise you won’t be rude?” Sofia asked, holding up her pinky finger.
Cedric sighed. Making false promises to her made him feel incredibly guilty, but he had no choice. “I promise, my dear.” Cedric hooked her pinky with his, earning a sweet, but tired smile from her. ‘Poor girl is probably exhausted’ he thought.
Despite her sleepiness, Sofia leapt to hug Cedric tightly. He wrapped his arms around her.
Sofia stayed there for a few moments, snuggling against Cedric. He was cosy. ‘I’m so tired…’ she thought, before her mind switched off on her.
“Sofia?” Cedric gently poked Sofia, before realising she fell asleep. “And I’m stuck,” he mumbled, but not in a grumpy way. He reached to gently stroke her hair. She looked precious.
Over the years, Cedric warmed up to Sofia’s affection, he even enjoys and initiates hugs. Though occasionally, they saddened him. He remembers when she had to reach on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his waist and grabbed onto his robes to get his attention. She didn't have to do that anymore. She was only a few inches shorter than him now, though she still grabs onto his robes.
For whatever reason, it never occurred to him that his apprentice would grow up, that she wouldn't always be the sweet little girl who had to stand on a stepping stool to reach the third shelf.
On a lighter note of Sofia growing up, he liked being able to watch her progression in sorcery as she grew and learnt the ways of magic. He felt like he was watching his own child graduate when she finally mastered that one spell she struggled with for years; he actually teared up a bit!
“I suppose I should get you into bed, hm?” Cedric asked Sofia, who was too far off in her dreams to hear him.
Cedric carefully scooped Sofia into his arms and stood up from the stool, freezing when she stirred.
He slowly made his way up the stairs of his workshop, where his bed was. "There we go," he whispered after placing her down and tucking her in. He's done this too many times to count. He was the only person she went to after nightmares, and after all she's been through in her young life, she had quite a lot of them.
After making sure the princess was properly tucked in and giving her hair a soft kiss, Cedric made his way back down the stairs, took her tiara off of the book she placed it on earlier, and put it on one of his shelves where it was safe.
'Now,' he thought.
It was time to deal with Roland.
-
This was originally posted on fanfiction.net by the name of "moonypear." It's only been up a few days and I've had 3 or 4 C*dfia shippers favorite, review and follow me, I'm already frustrated. It already feels like I'm making content for them. I haven't been in the fandom long, but on here it seems like shippers have some decency to keep distance with people who don't want them interacting (from what I've seen at least.) I might not post on fanfiction.net again. I've always viewed them in a father/daughter light as shown here, and the thought of someone reading my hard work and twisting it to make it "Romantic" honestly makes me feel a bit sick.
#C*DFIA SHIPPERS DNI#sofia the first#cedric the sorcerer#cedric the sensational#cedric the great#fanfiction#anticedfia#Cedric the sorcerer fanfiction#sofia the first fanfiction#people on ff.net have some fucking nerve.#fanfic#oneshot#fluff#hurt/comfort#????#Father/daughter vibes only#protective father ceddy
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Happy Miraxus Day 2022 !
Found : FF.net AO3
He was mad. Intensively mad. Like never before at her. Veins pumping like he was ready to start a battle. At him though, he may have gotten a bit angrier once or twice. Especially when the boy harmed his whole family, trying to throw a rebellion against him in order to start a reign of terror and misery over the people he loved the most. But that was another story.
How stupid did they have to be ?
Honestly, he wondered. There were some days he even wished he was tall enough to smack them both across the face with his wheelchair, just to get their brains both back into places. If only nature hadn’t been so cruel towards him.
Mavis, he couldn’t believe it.
And the nerve they had. Unbelievable. To just pretend like nothing was happening, right under his nose. To smile and chat like everything was fine, without a thought to what he might be feeling or wondering. To vanish one after the other, not at the same time, oh no, Mavis forbid they even let the slimiest clue that they were actually going back together.
Un-fucking-believable. And he didn’t like to swear. Not when he hadn’t drunk. He shook the habit out after years of hanging in the guild with a thousand children running around.
Not that he wanted to catch it again, even with them all grown.
If only they could stop acting like children.
Those two stupid brats.
And he loved them. To the death. Didn’t even need to explain why. Not when it came to him, but to the girl… Oh, how he grew to love her. Like his own, even if she was one of the only ones to actually remember who was originally supposed to love her this way. And it wasn’t just blind fatherly love, since he spent most of his days in her company, trying to get some work done, or mostly watching her getting the job done.
Watching her grow up, and loving what she was becoming. How beautiful and kind, and caring, and just the right amount of witty. Sometimes, he even wondered if she couldn’t be some angel sent from the sky to save him from his old days. Not that he wasn’t encouraging her to enjoy life as much as she could, even if it meant doing anything, or anyone for that matter. As long as it meant making her happy, and finally taking the life she deserved from the fate that took so much from her.
He just wished she hadn’t taken it so literally.
Because him. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to make her happy.
And it wasn’t as mean as it sounded. Because he loved him and also wished him the best joys of life just as much, if not even more. They just weren’t right for each other.
Too much baggage.
They were too different. Or not enough. He couldn’t tell. But, he certainly could tell how it was going to end. Horribly. Like some cheap heartbreaking show. Actually, there were several ways it could end, since they were both honestly damaged. Not for the rest of their lives. But for now, and until they actually managed to break through a few relationships, to have time to contemplate what their hearts lacked and were able to give.
If only they weren’t so stubborn as to skip all the trials to get to the one that could maybe harm the guild. And he didn’t want that. Not after everything. He didn’t want to die seeing them both tearing each other apart and his life work with them. It was just too much. Too much for his old heart to bear.
The only thing he didn’t know was who was going to bolt first.
It could be both really.
He was just so insecure, so hurt. And with reason. The old man had done his best, taking him in, raising him to the best of his ability, but no grandfather could make up for a shitty emotionally abusive father and a run-away mother. It was actually a miracle the boy wasn’t that messed up. He had character, that you couldn’t take from him. Most men would have wrecked the world and become a drug addict, or a warlord for that matter.
But he was damaged. Didn’t trust anyone. Not even him. Especially not him. But that was mostly his own doing rather than his father’s. Barely even opened up to his own carefully chosen friends, that would never dare break his trust. Sometimes he even thought he chose them to make up for his lack of parental validation, to have people chanting his praises to make up for the years of demeaning.
He was going to crush her. The girl needed steadiness and somebody to confide in and trust with her own life. She was a romantic. Not a goofy one though. She believed in die-hard love and life-long promises, in burning desire and intimate support. He knew it. She wouldn’t say it, but he knew it. Because he knew her, knew how much she had struggled with loneliness and suffering, even with her siblings at her side.
He was going to run. He was going to get terrified of having to trust somebody else, and he was going to crush her heart into tiny little pieces when she would open up and try for it.
And for that, he wanted to kill him.
Or maybe, he was going to be the one to open up. No reason. Actually, she was just as fucked up as him. She could very well be thinking they were just having fun, and unintentionally mislead him with her emotional talk and kindness. It was difficult not to feel close to her. She had a talent for that. People loved talking to her at the bar because she drew them in with her smile and warmth. It was only when you went to bed that you realized she never even said a word about herself.
He was going to fall for it. Way slowlier than the others, but she was going to do exactly what she did all day, except this time in his arms, and he was going to fall for it and blurt his heart out to her to get the affection he was yearning for. And she was going to crush it, ruin every little effort he ever made to let other people know how truly kind and loving he was, just to step on it and take him years back without even realizing it.
And he wanted to cry at the thought.
There was no way this was going to end well. His best chance was to hope they would both keep their bullshit until the end, and go for a quick and clean break. But how could the best scenario be not to grow at all ?
Because the odds of them getting both of their messes together on the first try was just too unlikely.
And the audacity to try when it was doomed. Well, it angered him so much.
It didn’t help that they both acted like children sneaking out to eat candy in secret, or thieves getting ready for the heist of the century. They didn’t even look at each other most days, let alone exchange a few words that weren’t directly related to jobs, or drinks, or the weather, but that was them trying. He knew because he had watched, carefully, weeks after finding out about the deed.
He had heard the rumors before, of course. But nothing quite compared to seeing it on his own. He hadn’t believed them, didn’t want to believe them. There were a thousand rumors going around the guildhall every day, especially about eminent members, and he was too old to pay attention to drunken chitchat, particularly when the two concerned barely managed to talk to each other for five minutes.
It was ridiculous.
He had found out during their trip to Crocus, to celebrate Lucy’s award and drink the night away. He was old but he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. He was too proud of her.
Of course, he thought it was weird when he saw his twenty-five year old grandson leaving the party before midnight, only half an hour after he himself considered calling it a night. But the boy had never been a social butterfly, even seeing him not hating the whole gathering already felt like a win.
He hadn’t thought much about it when he saw that they were sitting next to each other the whole time. After all, they both belonged to groups that seemed pretty determined to mingle, so it wasn’t that out of the blue. Maybe he noticed it, wished they wouldn’t return to their old ways and wreck the place over what color the tablecloth was supposed to be. He prayed for that one.
Didn’t even connect the dots when Mira got up, just fifteen minutes later. Right on the clock, he had to give it to her now, the timing was perfect. She went to congratulate Lucy, and then had the nerve to come up to his table and ask him if he needed help getting back to his room. Like she wasn’t planning on skipping her own to see if Laxus’ wasn’t more comfortable.
He couldn’t believe it.
He felt betrayed.
He trusted that girl. Trusted her with all the comings and goings of the guild, the one thing he gave his life for. Trusted her with his thoughts, feelings, and doubts. Mavis, he didn’t even trust Erza that much. And she knew. She knew how much it meant to him, how he was the most treasured thing he had left on this earth.
And she went for it.
Didn’t even have the decency to tell him to his face.
Didn’t even have the nerve to face him right after he found them out.
He didn’t have the strength to face her either, to be honest.
She didn’t like when he drank, kept on rambling about how it was bad for his health and his heart, how smoking could keep him from seeing his children thrive and be happy, and did he want to miss that ? No. Certainly Not. But he was old, and it was pretty difficult to explain to her, how, despite her best efforts, he could very well be found dead in his bed tomorrow, for no other reason than that it was the time. So, he certainly wasn’t going to miss out on his last opportunity to enjoy a good whiskey or a cigar.
He was too old for that.
But, he didn’t want to hurt her. Not when she spent way too many nights making sure he was going to bed properly and taking care of his way too big of a house. Did he feel ashamed about sneaking out at five in the morning when sleep eluded him ? Certainly. Very much so.
Couldn’t quite shake the irony when they had both found each other uncovered and guilty as charged. Him on his way to join Guildarts and the last partiers, and get some hard-earned liquor, and her getting out, dissheveled and sleepy, from a room whose number he knew to be Laxus’.
Mavis, he didn’t have the nerve to call her on it when she stared at him. Pretty sure he never saw her as red or as flustered. She didn’t even try to articulate a word to him. Just stared, and he stared back at her, before walking past him without another glance. Just walked straight across him and down the corridor to her room.
She was savage.
“I just caught Mirajane getting out of Laxus’ room'' Was the only thing he could articulate when he found an empty seat beside the fourty-seven year old mage.
He didn’t quite know how to take the warm laugh he had gotten.
“About fucking time.” The brown-haired said, trying to calm his laughter and finish his glass. He was drunk, anybody could have smelled the whiskey in his breath from a mile away.
The old man only smiled awkwardly, and finished his drink straight, to forget about the all too disturbing image.
They hadn’t talked about it. Not for weeks. The woman just pretended they had never seen each other. Even missed the opportunity to scold him about his drinking. Probably hoping he had been too tired (or, too drunk) to remember their encounter. But you didn’t spend fifty-three years running a tavern without developing a resistance to shake the gods. But he didn’t call her on it.
He observed her. Observed her manners. Looked for the slightest tell, the subtlest blush when the blond talked to her, the quickest touch between their fingers when they just stood too close. And they were good. Honestly, only someone in the know could catch it, but they weren’t invisible. He noticed the glance he’d send her before ordering a drink. He noticed the knowing smirk she had when she asked him about his job. Noticed the way he would drag time at the bar, before resigning and going up the stairs when someone else would require her attention.
And it killed him.
It killed him how they could just go along their day acting all innocent and probably laughed at him later, at all of them. About how everyone was so oblivious to it. Like it was their fault if they couldn’t assume a glance in public could mean many more things in private. He wanted to kill them. For playing with fire. For acting like spoiled entitled brats. For hiding things that they knew were bad.
He almost gagged on his drink the day he saw it. That day when she was just so drunk and he saw her grab his arm to rest on it. He even looked around to see if anyone else had seen it, but he was only met with bored eyes that didn’t have a clue about what just happened.
Maybe it wasn’t that important. Maybe everyone knew and he was the only one caring. Maybe he shouldn’t care about it and let them figure their own things out. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal.
But, it was to him. Maybe it was stupid and childish, but he was angry. He was angry at them for hiding such a thing from a person they were both close too. From the person that cared most about them, that knew them better than they knew themselves. Even if that person hadn’t been capable of guessing it for himself
Maybe he was mad at himself. Maybe he was sad he didn’t know them as much as he thought he did. Maybe he hated himself. For being so slow. For being so blind.
He wanted to confront her. He wanted to scold. Tell her how stupid she was being. Him too, but it was already so difficult getting time alone with him, he didn’t want to offer him an excuse to skip their rare meals together. He worked too hard for them.
But he never could. For the first two weeks because it was too awkward to bring up. For the weeks that followed because he wanted to see how much time they could go without addressing it. Maybe the boy wasn’t even aware about him knowing. Not if Mirajane had kept it from him.
But why would she ?
He almost choked on his beer the day he asked her out. Out of the blue. In front of everyone. He was pretty sure he heard the whole goddamn guild freeze when they heard. Pretty sure he heard a few ones falling from their chairs when she actually said yes. She tried to hide it of course, but she was red as a poppy, fidgeting as she tried to ignore the questions to go back to her everyday chores.
Maybe it was kind of cute.
“So, you and Laxus, right ?” He had finally asked just a few hours after that. Once they were alone in his office, trying to get through the pile of complaints hoping to touch the ceiling.
He could see her straighten a little, probably not expecting the direct question from him. After all, he kept silent for many weeks, so why now ?
“Right. ” She only responded, not lifting her eyes from the letter she was reading.
“Huh.” He thought about giving up. But no. He wanted an answer and a resistant twenty-one year old certainly wasn’t going to stop him.
She only gave him a glance then. But that was all he needed.
“And how long exactly has this been going on between the two of you ?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, master.” She hummed.
“Don’t play with me, child.” He wanted to scream but instead settled for firm. “I’m old, but I’m not that old.”
Still no glance, she was pretty motivated not to look at him, shrugged her shoulders and kept on working, pretending like the conversation wasn’t making her head burn.
So, he didn’t say anything next, only stared at her, very intensively, very much expecting a response. She kept on working as long as she could but there was just something about the master burning holes into her that became too difficult to bear.
She looked at him then, tried to take on her best teenage-like face about how unimportant it was, but he didn’t let her. He gave her the knowing eyebrows and she felt herself stiffen, feeling like a child whose parent remind that lying only makes the punishment worse.
She swallowed and turned back to the papers, trying to hide the disarray that spread through her core.
“A few months” She maybe articulated with another shrug.
“A few months ?” He sounded angrier.
“More or less.” She scribbled something on paper, probably a bill.
There were not many times when he wanted to unscrew her head from her body to see if she could be as unnerving, but that was definitely one of them.
“You mean you don’t know ?” He tried to control his tone, but he was fuming.
She sighed and lifted her deep blue eyes to uncomfortably stare at him, just for a second.
“I mean it doesn’t have to be that important”
“I see… ” He sighed trying to think of a mischievous remark to throw back but nothing came to mind. So he just drank his beer in silence.
A few months.
It was insane.
They didn’t talk about it again. Not for a long time.
“Why don’t you try minding your own business, for once ?” The blond also shot down every chance he took at warning him.
They both had that way of getting on edge every time he would try to put the subject back onto the table. Even if it was just to tell them that whatever was going on between them, he and the guild certainly didn’t want to hear anything about it.
So he ignored it. He waited. Waited for the day they would become ancient history and he could go back to normal with both of them.
He just hoped he’d still be alive by then.
“I don’t get what’s bothering you.” Bob said to him one day, when he was visiting on a business trip away. “You love that girl.” He put down his drink in exasperation. “If you were seventy years younger, you’d marry her yourself.” The Blue Pegasus master laughed.
Like that was a reason.
A few weeks later, he finally gave in. Just not to die stupid. Maybe he was never going to like it, but he could at least try to comprehend it.
Mirajane was just a little less inclined to answer his questions.
“What do you mean why ?” She only asked back when he went forth and tried to inquire. A bit aggressive, as always when it came to the thunder mage.
“I do not wish to fight, child.” He tried to diffuse the tension but she was already frowning to hell and becoming all agitated it took everything in him not to give up. “I am only curious.”
“I didn’t see you becoming that curious when Gajil and Levy got together.”
“Surely, you can see why that is different.”
“I can assure you, I don’t.”
There was a silence. A long one. One during which she shelved a few more papers before turning back to him to raise her eyebrows again. A bit insolent maybe. She had quite a spark, one that clashed with her usual demeanor, one that he didn’t see often. But he wasn’t going to let her have her way around him. He wasn’t that old. So he was just raised his much more impressive eyebrows back until she turned around back again.
“I really don’t get what you expect me to say.” She was tidying the desk, glancing at him from time to time while he only stared and finished his cigar, ignoring her judgmental look.
“You mean you can’t think of a single reason why you would want to date Laxus of all people ?”
He saw her smirk, but only for a split second.
“I can think of many reasons, master.” She sighed while gathering the glasses on her tray. “I’m just afraid they might be a bit too generic for what you’re looking for.”
“Generic ?”
“That’s the word, yes.” She smiled, then. Like she was having him.
He paused, blowing out smoke. But still staring at her, so she knew she wasn’t dismissed.
“I don’t know.” He sighed again, folding the paper of the day, just for countenance. “I’ve seen you turn down quite a few people from the guild over the years.”
“Well, maybe that’s because he’s not twice my age, nor divorced, or married for that matter.” She tried to giggle but his face looked just too serious for that, so she only grinned. “I like that in a man.”
Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered.
So, he tried seeing it for himself.
“Why don’t you stay for dinner instead ?” He invited her once as she was preparing to leave while Laxus sat on the couch in front of him, eyes widened and everything, as usual, when the boy (rarely) gave in to his passive aggressive invitations and came over to eat alone with him.
He saw her hesitate, he even caught the glance she threw at the blond, seeming like she was checking by him, as he wasn’t ready for any possible reason to avoid being left alone with his old man. “I really doubt he’s going to mind.” He tried adding.
“Well…” She stammered, taking her shoes back off and grabbing a glass to join them on the couch, ignoring the victory glance he had when he understood he finally managed to take them by surprise. “I guess I can spare an evening.”
He didn’t know what he expected, but he certainly was disappointed when they didn’t even try to exchange a few words through the whole night. Well, he was pretty sure they did in the kitchen, but never in front of him, let alone touch. No, not a finger, not a word to each other, only to him. He was less angry than amazed now. What kind of self-control could they possibly have ?
He tried talking to her sister then. After all, the girl was as close to her eldest as anyone could be, so she had to know something, right ?
“I don’t know, master, they never really hang out with me either.” He was very disappointed with this one. “Not together, I mean.” The white-haired girl tried to smile, but the old man looked too concerned to be taken lightly. “They just don’t like having people around.”
He sighed.
“From the lack of witnesses, I’m beginning to doubt they even hang at all.” He smoked while the eighteen year old giggled with amusement. “You forgot one.” He pointed at the glass left on the table.
“Well, I rather think it's a good sign, you know.”
He was intrigued then, grinning slightly. “And why is that, child ?”
“I don’t know…” She finished piling the glasses up on her tray before smiling brightly at him. “The thing with my sister is that she never talks that much about the things she cares about.”
“That’s an interesting take.”
“Well, not to me at least.” She sighed too. “But from what I heard, she’s a lot more talkative with Erza these days.”
He frowned at the thought. “ Erza, why ?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s the booze talking.” She giggled again. “Or maybe, it’s because she doesn’t talk under torture.”
He smiled at her as she exited the office. A bit more satisfied with her than with the others.
Erza, huh ?
Now, that was someone he could ask.
Or not.
From the red her head immediately got when he asked, he’d go for the latter.
“I really don’t… I really don’t know what you want me to say, master…” She stammered so hard, way redder that he’d ever seen her before.
“Don’t give me that, Erza.” He cut her, tried grinning to relax her. “From what I’ve heard, you know more than anyone in here.”
She got even more flustered. If that was even possible.
“Maybe…” She swallowed hard. “But, I’m not…” She whispered then. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”
He thought hard about making her. He certainly could. She would never hide something from him if he inquired, he knew that. He could order her to talk and she would shamefully confess the whole thing even if it meant betraying her friend. But he hesitated. After all, the guild peace and running greatly relied on the two women’s good understanding, and force a feud between the two just seemed too stupid for that idiotic a reason.
“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, child, but I’m just looking for…”
“Please, don’t make me tell you, master.” She cut him though, still red as a tomato and looking down. “I really can’t have Mira hating me again.”
He nodded. Sometimes² there was no helping it.
He thought he had gotten to the end of his ressources by then. Maybe he was never going to comprehend it. Maybe he didn’t have to. Some things maybe weren’t made to be understood. They never fought like he used to think they would. They never talked for that matter. He could go on about his day without even having to think about it. He even had to check by the girl, once in a while, just to make sure this was still happening.
Some guild members even forgot and tried to ask the white-haired out, but strangely only when the blond was away. The Thunder Legion didn’t like it though. He himself didn’t like it. Just because he didn’t approve of something didn’t mean guildmates could act this way towards each other. It was a matter of respect.
He did like that Laxus came by more often though. Not too often, he didn’t like exaggerating. But he slowly stopped turning him down for whatever reason he had found that night. He was calmer too, a little bit more relaxed and smily, but that could be very well him taking his dreams for reality. He didn’t know if she had something to do with that.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
But he did see him smile that day. When the guild was dark and packed. When the chatter was so loud he had trouble understanding Cana next to him. He saw them. Up onto the balcony where they thought no one was paying attention. He had trouble at first, catching the hand on her waist, or the bright mischievous grin she had during what seemed to be a passionate and witty conversation.
It seemed like they didn’t catch the ruckus around them. Or maybe they were just too used to it to pay any attention. He wondered what could be so interesting that they wouldn’t even think about looking around. And maybe he felt a bit sad. Sad that he didn’t know what could possibly be the topic at hand. Maybe he almost felt his heart sink that he might never know.
He almost hissed though at the way he had to keep her way too close to him, and let his hands wander a little bit too much. He almost wanted to turn around at the way he dragged her closer to casually lean in and capture her lips. It was swift, or maybe it was longer. He hadn’t gotten a good look, even staring the whole time. Strangely, he couldn’t tell.
But he could tell they were smiling.
And for that, maybe.
Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.
#fairytail#makarov dreyar#laxus dreyar#mirajane strauss#lisanna strauss#gildarts clive#fairy tail bob#le prompt de la non-inspiration#erza scarlet#miraxus#laxus x mirajane#mira x laxus#miraxus day#miraxus day 2022
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Nothing Good Happens After 2AM (Ch 4)
Rating: M (finally earning that for this chapter)
Words: 2900
Read: ao3, ff.net CH 1 CH 2 CH 3
Summary: Emma took Killian home for the holidays as a fake date. Things seemed to be going well…until it didn’t. What happens when two fools in love didn’t confess their love over the holidays like they planned and have to go back home to reality? This. This is what happened…(A twist on fake dating during the holidays)
AN: Well....shit lol here we finally are! I wish I had a good reason for the year and a half delay. Honestly, I got one not so great review and it shook me a bit and I was already iffy about writing. But thank you to so many incredible souls being so encouraging and supporting me to get back into writing. Thank you to @kmomof4 who read all four chapters and edited them (make sure to check them out). I really hope you enjoy this last part as I’m so happy to finally have this out for you all. A very late and final contribution to @csjanuaryjoy
tagging some of the fam squad (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @carpedzem @nowforruin @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @thesschesthair @teamhook @winterbaby89 @zaharadessert @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd @blowmiakisscolin @peggyswan @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @tiganasummertree @batana54 @pirateprincessofpizza
ALL THE LOVE
Ruby made her way back up to the party, excited to see how the rest of the night would play out after her phone call to Emma. As she made her way back into Killian’s apartment she saw the Nolans as they gestured rather animatedly. Then Ruby rounded the corner and looked in to see who they were yelling at.
Shit.
It was Killian.
And from the looks of it they were letting Killian have it. And he was just standing there taking it.
What the hell did he get into in the last five minutes to warrant this? Ruby was both concerned, but mostly entertained because the sweet sunshine Charmings never yelled. She strolled into the kitchen with a grin, figuring she would enjoy the show. That was until the furious couple saw her - apparently she was their new target.
“Ruby Elizabeth Lucas! You have a lot of explaining to do.”
Ruby was confused to say the least. How the hell was she involved in... whatever this was?
“Um...I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Bullshit, Ruby!” She was completely taken back, Mary Margaret never swore. “You just told me that Emma thought Killian was dating Elsa. And last time I checked Killian and Emma have been together for the last three months. So please, explain yourself. Now.”
“I feel like it’s not really my place,” she said, darting her eyes toward Killian, but she could tell no one was buying it. “Listen, Snow White and Prince Charming, your poor sister felt pressured to bring a date home for the holidays. She and Killian decided to go to Ruth’s and tell y’all they were dating so you’d back the hell off. And it worked and everything was fine. Then Elsa showed up and spooked Emma because she thought she lost her chance with him. Because shocker,” she looked fiercely at Killian and had to restrain herself from smacking him upside the head, “they’re both in love with each other and are being absolutely idotic and not telling the other the truth.” She turned back toward the stunned silent Charmings, “And you two are not helping the cause!”
Killian looked up in complete shock, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hair. The Nolans stood gaping at her, obviously not expecting her brutal honesty.
“Listen,” Ruby took a deep breath. “Cut them some slack. You two were acting like Emma was going to turn into some crazy old spinster if she didn’t find a date soon. Also, you two act as though you are a literal fairytale couple.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to live up to your kind of love.”
As David stood in shock, Mary Margaret finally spoke up. “We went too far, didn’t we?” That’s when she turned to Killian. “We’re sorry, Killian. We shouldn’t have ever put you in this situation. We love you, we love Emma, and that wasn’t fair...I hope you can forgive our behavior this evening.”
Just as Killian was about to speak up, the door opened revealing an out of breath Emma Swan.
Emma was confused by the odd looks she was receiving as her welcome. She should be used to their bizarre behavior at this point, but this felt different.
As she made her way over to the group her nerves set back in. She was here to tell Killian the truth. She was going to finally confess her love for her best friend. On his birthday. What could possibly go wrong?
“Right, well, this has been fun. Perhaps we should give these two some alone time.” Ruby elbowed the couple so Emma and Killian could have a moment.
As Emma walked towards Killian she finally took in her surroundings and realized how packed the apartment was. “I wish there were less people here…”
“Why, Swan? I love large parties, they’re so intimate. At small parties-”
“-there isn’t any privacy. I like it when you quote things to me.” Looking at him, she realized how close they were. She wasn’t even aware of her own movement toward him. Then she looked into his blue eyes. She missed them.
She missed him.
They stood there, taking each other in. It’d been weeks since they’d been together, really together. Neither one knew how to start.
“Emma, you came.”
She wished in that moment she had something poetic to respond with, but that wouldn’t be Emma. “That’s what she said.”
The two instantly burst into laughter, the tension dying with every laugh.
“I missed you, Swan.” Killian reached his hand out to tuck a loose strand behind her ear, Emma leaned into his touch.
“I missed you too. I’m so sorry I ran…I wish I had a good excuse, but I don’t. I wanted to tell you so many times how I felt. I was going to tell you. On New Year's Eve. I was finally going to tell you. I had this whole plan. It was a good plan. And then Ruby fucking decided to be Chef Julia Child and give me food posioning. And then...I saw how happy you looked with Elsa and I thought, I thought, I’d lost my chance with you.” Emma finally found the courage to look up when she finished.
Killian’s eyes were full of unshed tears. When Emma opened her mouth to try and say something to break the tension Killian wrapped his arms around her. Emma finally took a breath. A breath she had been holding for weeks. He didn’t hate her.
“Emma, my love, I promise nothing happened with Elsa. She was Liam’s fiance. She’s an old friend and nothing more. You though...you’re so much more than that. I’ve been a coward. I’ve hidden behind our friendship, behind the lie we told your family, and I will not do that any longer. I’ve had three words on the tip of my tongue since the night we met, I swear, and I will not waste another minute without you hearing them.”
Emma extracted herself from his grasp. “Before you do, I have something for you.”
Killian lets out a sigh, “Really? Right now?”
Without another word Emma pulled the small red box from her clutch and handed it to Killian. He looked at her with curious eyes. “It’s your birthday, open the damn thing, Jones.”
“So demanding. Now what do we have here? It's a-”
He stopped.
Mistletoe.
It was the most infuriating object that haunted his dreams - well, besides Emma. That trip to her home, the infernal garnish was everywhere.
There was that kiss.
God, that kiss. He relieved it daily, prayed that it wasn’t the last kiss he’d ever share with Emma. Up until this moment he was convinced that would be the case.
“Well, Swan, this is quite the gift. I don’t know exactly what to say.” He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick they were both well aware of.
“I, um, do you wanna see if it works?” Killian’s eyes shot up to Emma.
“Well, love, seems only right I try it out with you since you were the one that gave me such a generous gift. Shall we...”
Emma cut him off with a bruising kiss, it caught him a little off guard, but it only took a moment for him to catch up. Killian didn’t give a damn that there was a party going on around them. He finally had Emma in his arms. Emma’s hands wandered to the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life. Killian’s hands roamed down her sides before anchoring on her hips, holding her tightly against him. He cursed the fact that Emma was wearing a dress, even if she did look bloody gorgeous in the tight red piece. He couldn’t wait to have that blasted thing on his floor.
They finally broke for air, still clinging to one another, foreheads touching. Killian was ready to dive back in when he looked up and remembered they weren’t alone. Mary Margaret was crying, Ruby was cheering, and David looked slightly annoyed but Killian saw the small smile he was trying but failing to hide.
“Come on, love. I think it’s time we faced the vultures. And I’d like you to meet Elsa, if that’s alright with you?”
“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty good idea, Captain.” Emma reached down and grabbed Killian’s hand before they walked over.
Maybe the trope board wasn't wrong after all.
CSCSCSCSCSCSCSCS
As the party went on, Killian and Emma were inseparable; the two constantly touching the other. At one point, while talking to Mary Margaret and David, Emma laid her head on Killian's shoulder, something she'd done a million times, but this time Killian placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
The two were in their own happy bubble. They pretended to be engaged with those around them, but they couldn't ignore but feel the sparks ignited with each touch.
"So, Emma? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for the miscommunication. I feel as though that was my fault." Emma was confused on how Elsa seemed to be privy to their issue, but then she saw Mary Margaret across the room and assumed her friend had filled her in.
"Please, don't be. I was...scared I lost my chance with Killian."
"Oh, honey. I don't think you could ever lose this one." Killian squeezed Emma closer to prove her point.
Turns out Elsa was hilarious and had wonderfully embarrassing stories about Killian. Emma had a feeling the two were going to be good friends after tonight.
The party eventually wound down a little after one, slowly the various couples left. That's when Emma realized she was alone with Killian.
Finally.
Suddenly, Emma felt her nerves grow. They'd declared their love and haven't left the others' side since, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She absentmindedly threw out some empty cups as she tried to plan her next move.
"Love," Killian called for her from the living room, "can you come here?" Emma slowly made her way into the room as Killian stretched out his arms to embrace her.
"Emma, I...I know that tonight has been a lot. Our relationship has always been a lot. And I know the future is uncertain, but there's one thing I want you to be certain of - I will always be by your side. For as long as you'll let me, my love."
She didn't even know a tear had slipped until Killian pulled back to wipe it.
"I haven't always made things easy. I get spooked easily, but I'm tired of running. I want to be with you, Killian. I love you."
"And I you, my beautiful Swan."
The kiss started off slowly, different than the one earlier, but no less passionate. Emma brought her hands around Killian's neck, playing with the nape of his hair. As Killian kissed down her neck, Emma didn't recognize the noises that escaped her mouth.
As their kisses continued, Emma was surprised when Killian's legs hit the couch and he fell down. She hadn’t been aware that they moved. Emma said she was tired of running, and she was ready to show him. So she straddled his legs and hovered over him for just a moment.
They felt like teenagers again, making out on a couch like this. She could feel him harden beneath her, driving her wild. But, it wasn't enough, she needed more. Emma started unbuttoning his shirt, the bastard already had the top three undone. Without a second thought, she began to rake her fingers through the coarse black hair.
"I've been dying to do this since we first met. So soft," she murmured. Killian found a spot behind her ear that made her mewl. Emma brought her lips to his ear, "I've always wondered how it'd feel against my breasts."
With that, Killian pulled back. "My love, are you sure? We can wait. Because once I have you, I'm never going to let you go." Emma nodded slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she could barely see a trace of blue. His pupils were blown.
Before Emma could stand, Killian wrapped his arms around her to carry her to his bedroom. He only ran into the wall twice as Emma was no doubt leaving marks on his neck. Killian gently placed her in the middle of the bed.
"I always swore that if we got here, I would worship every inch of you."
"Killian, please, worship later. I need you now."
"Just a taste. Patience, darling." Killian was beyond thankful at that moment Emma had opted for a dress as he quickly removed her thong.
Before she could speak, he brought his mouth to her sex. "You're already drenched for me. You..fuck...you taste delicious."
Emma couldn't speak, he was overwhelming in every sense of the word. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, not that she needed to guide him; he knew exactly what he was doing.
Killian replaced his mouth with two fingers. "That's it, Emma. You look so beautiful like this. I want you to come for me, darling. Come and then I'll give you what you really want."
His voice was deeper, accent thicker. Emma had a feeling she could finish from his voice alone, but right now, it was his fingers and mouth that were going to do the trick.
Emma lost all control of her limbs as he sent her over the edge. He didn't let up though, he continued slowly licking as she came back down. As her breathing returned to normal, Killian kissed up her body.
"Worship later, Killian,” she moaned again. “Please. I need you. Now."
"So demanding, Swan,” he observed, taking his pants and boxer briefs off. “I think I like this side of you, all in a commanding voice, chills really."
He climbed back on top of her, but instead of responding, Emma hooked her legs around Killian and flipped him, so he laid on his back. He looked up in awe, he had never been so turned on than in this moment.
Emma decided she was tired of waiting, but before she could sink down Killian stopped her. "Give me a moment, let me grab something, I -"
"I'm clean, and I'm on the pill. I...I don't want anything between us."
"Gods, Emma. If you're sure? I'm good too, I haven't been with anyone since...since we met."
Emma dove down to meet his lips as she sank down onto him. Killian swallowed her gasp as she adjusted to his size. Of course, he lived up to every innuendo, and Emma couldn't be happier for that than in this moment.
For first times, they were both surprised with how easy it was to fall into rhythm with the other. There were only a few slightly awkward moments, but that didn't stop them from enjoying this moment. Emma's hips met Killian's with each thrust, quickly driving the other wild.
"So fucking glorious, Emma. You're so tight like this. Ride my cock, such a good girl. I want to feel you come around me this time. You're stunning when you come. That's...fuck... that's it Emma, take what you need, darling."
Before Emma could even respond, Killian decided it was her turn to be flipped on her back. "Now, if I remember correctly, you wanted to know how it feels with me on top."
"That's, ugh, that's not exactly what I said. But I'm not complaining."
Emma felt that familiar sensation growing in her stomach as Killian's pace intensified. "Killian, I'm close. Together, I wanna -"
"Aye, love, together."
Killian felt her tighten around him as she moaned out in ecstasy, pulling him right after her. He gave her a searing kiss as he spilled himself inside of her. Killian fell on top of her, too exhausted to worry about crushing her for a moment.
"Killian? As much as I love how, uh, close we are now, do you think you can move? I can't breathe, and I need to clean up."
"Oi, you're gonna give a man a complex!" Killian slowly rolled off her, in awe of the glow Emma radiated at the moment. Emma couldn't help but giggle as he was being an annoying ass, but mostly he was still...Killian.
They were still them. Except they just had mind-blowing sex.
She could get used to this new addition to their relationship.
"Stay here, love. Let me." Killian was back in a moment and helped clean Emma. When he finished, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just like before.
"What is it, Swan?"
"Nothing, I'm just happy. It's just so surprising."
"Aye, love, me too. But this doesn't change anything. I've loved you for years now, and we'll go at whatever pace we both see fit, but I'm in this for the long haul."
"As am I, Captain."
The two laid in bed, cuddled close, and shared lazy kisses. When Emma looked at the clock, she saw it was nearly three in the morning. A few weeks ago, Emma had thought nothing good happened after two am; it turns out she was wrong.
"Swan? Can you tell me what the bloody hell a trope board is?"
#tori finally finishes a story#nothing good happens after 2am#(formerly) another name#so close and still so far#captain swan#emma swan#killian jones#ouat#once upon a time#cs fanfics#ruby lucas#david nolan#mary margaret blanchard#elsa#part four#IT'S FINALLY DONE#THANK YOU K
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Fix You
Loving Carlos is now TK's drug of choice, but after pushing his boyfriend away his cravings threaten to take away his sobriety. Meanwhile Carlos struggles after the fight, not knowing what he could have done differently or how to move forward. Both boys lost in their own insecurities and heartbreaks until they manage to find their way back to each other.
Or three missing scenes from 2x12: TK before he ends up at Owen's house, Carlos after he leaves the firehouse, and Tarlos in the aftermath of the fire.
Links: ff.net - AO3
TK rubbed both hands against his pant legs as he stumbled down the darkened alley. Breath drawing small, foggy circles in the air as it came faster than usual, colliding with the cold night air and evaporating just as quickly as the man's brisk pace blew the condensation away.
Reaching the end of the street, TK drew the hood of his sweater even lower onto his eyes, and looked both ways. There weren't many cars on this road so late at night, but there were many streetlights that proved to be a bigger threat. But TK had done this before, not in Austin, but in New York. And if TK had managed to avoid the lights, street cameras, and prying eyes of a city that never sleeps, he could surely do it in a town that only had one star to offer. Austin was a small town after all. But it never hurt to be careful, especially when one Strand was already in jail.
A crash sounded from a nearby dumpster and TK jumped. Turning around he half expected to find Carlos following him, but the street was completely deserted. He was half disappointed.
Closing his eyes and releasing a long breath, TK steeled his nerves and resumed his journey. Fingers now tapped impatiently against his thumb in a continuous, alternating pattern. Index. Middle. Ring. Pinky. A desperate cycle that circled as much as his thoughts. Carlos' confession. Hard words. A push. A hug, or more like a hold. The order of events replayed on his mind following the rhythmic movement of his fingers. A vicious obsession that had him stuck in reverse. Mind stuck on that damn moment in the apparatus bay, failing to catch up with the speed of his steps.
Reaching his destination, TK took a moment to try to convince himself to turn around. But the pain was too raw. And he was tired of fighting his own mind. Loving Carlos was his drug of choice now and with that gone his cravings had only intensified.
He had tried to sleep it off. Had stood alone in the balcony of the fire station as his team left after their shift was over. All six of his teammates stealing quick, worried glances his way, but in the end, they had all left. Not because they didn't care, they had all tried to get him to talk, but there was only one person he wanted to talk to and he had fucked it all up. His friends had said that Carlos would understand, to go knock on his door and make it right. TK had promised he would. But instead he had stayed rooted in place as he regretted all his life choices.
Just yesterday he could have said all his mistakes had led him to Austin and one Carlos Reyes. But today TK didn't have that luxury anymore. Today all his mistakes had left him with nothing. So TK had shook his head, and exited the firehouse with the desire to just sink into oblivion. He had gotten in his car and driven to an empty parking lot in between Carlos' condo, their condo, and Owen's apartment. And he had really tried to sleep it off. Tears clouding his eyes as he rested his head on his folded arms on top of the steering wheel. Sleep hadn't come. So TK had exited the car, locked the door, and turned around.
He had walked for miles and now he found himself here. Tears then sprang to his eyes again as Owen's voice asked 'why?' and Carlos' gruff tone begged him to 'listen to me and calm down'. Just like he had whispered close to his ear on so many nights alone in their bedroom when TK's past seemed to overwhelm him and his cravings became too much to handle on his own. But his dad and boyfriend weren't here, and those voices were nothing but echoes of conversations long past. Now TK was alone, just like he had been that fateful night back in New York.
Wiping the tears angrily from his eyes, TK took a decisive step forward and never looked back. Drawing some bills from his pocket as he had done so many times before, he did the quick exchange and walked away. The bag threatened to burn a whole on his hand so TK threw it in his pocket and walked faster. Where? He didn't know. He had nowhere to go now.
When he felt comfortable with the distance between his score and his current location, TK slowed down and finally came to a stop. Sitting down on the steps of some abandoned house, TK reached inside his pocket and pulled out his fix. Then he carefully unzipped the small bag and dropped two pills on his palm. So small, and seemingly inoffensive, but nobody knew their destructive potential more than TK. They wrecked lives, relationships and people. But TK didn't feel like he had anything to lose anymore.
Closing his eyes, he moved his hand towards his mouth but stopped just a few inches away. We make a pretty good team. We really do, don't we? Afraid so. The words echoed in his mind, and seemingly a thousand memories flashed in front of his eyes, from that first accident scene in a cold and rainy Austin night, to Carlos' retreating form after TK lashed out at him just hours before.
Tears now streamed freely down his face and TK blinked a few times, willing them to stop. But in the darkness of his mind, he only saw light. And Carlos' cow eyes looking back at him. They really wrecked people and suddenly TK's tears were no longer just that, but full-blown, body shaking sobs as all his pain, worry, regrets, guilt and desperation came pouring out of him.
And before TK knew what was happening he was standing up, fist shaking at his hide, and pills still held tightly on his palm. Without thinking TK let out a guttural cry and threw the pills as far away from himself as he could, the motion ending with his fist connecting harshly against the wall. Pain ricocheted all around his body, but TK felt alive and more clear-headed than before. So he let himself slide down the wall, and just cried. Knees drawn tightly against his chest, head resting on top of his folded arms.
In the last months, Carlos had managed to turn the gray of his life into a rainbow, and now he just had to cross it. So rubbing his bruised knuckles, TK let the lights guide him home. He wasn't ready to see Carlos just yet, and he thought maybe the other man wasn't ready either, or he would have come looking for him, so TK got up from the dirty street, walked back to his car and drove to Owen's house instead. The darkened alley stayed behind, as this night became no more than just some wasted dollar bills. TK would gladly part with those, but he was stronger now, they were stronger now, and he wasn't ready to part with his sobriety just yet. And he would never be ready to part with Carlos, so tomorrow he would make it right, but today he would just go to Owen's house. And if luck happened to be on his side tonight, maybe Mateo would be home so he wouldn't need to be alone. He really didn't want to be alone.
-x-x-x-
Carlos' walk from the firehouse back to his car was the longest of his life. He had made that same walk more than a hundred times but today it felt like someone had stretched the building because this was talking too long. With every step, he thought of turning back around. But TK had been clear, and if that hadn't been enough Judd had added all the certainty he needed. So, Carlos went against his heart, and continued to walk forward.
Reaching his squad car, Carlos felt like he could finally breathe again. But even then, he still wanted to walk back into the building. Because Carlos would rather choke and even relinquish his breath if it meant that he could hold TK in his arms again. But this wasn't about what he wanted, but what TK needed, and right now, TK didn't need him.
So Carlos opened the door and climbed in, relieved that Mitchell had allowed him the courtesy of doing this alone, but still blowing up his phone with questions. He would speak to her later, but right now Carlos just wanted to curl up in a ball and let go. But he wouldn't do that now, not here.
Reaching the parking lot of the grocery store he shopped at with TK, Carlos drove to the back and parked away from the many trucks lining the street. And then he allowed himself to break down. Tears streamed down his face, and he tried to blink them away, but quickly they turned into sobs, and his body was shaking and he was powerless to stop it all. And the only man that could, had just literally pushed him away not an hour ago.
Drawing a hand over his shoulder and chest, Carlos remembered TK's anger, how his body had vibrated with the emotional pressure that bounced around him in search of an outlet. How he had become that outlet. And it hurt, not in the physical sense, because he knew TK hadn't meant to hurt him, but just wanted to run away like he so often did when he was overwhelmed. But TK's shove had seemingly bypassed skin and gone right for his heart, and that pain was harder to fathom or forget.
The brief conversation played over and over again in his mind, and Carlos wondered what he could have done differently to avoid that outcome. But it would have always been Carlos and TK, with their pasts, presents, and futures, in a baggage, in their minds, and in their hearts, so the outcome would have always been the same. It was a fact, but it didn't make the reality of it hurt any less.
When Carlos' tears finally ran out, his heartbreak had seemed to go with it, and now he was angry. At Owen, at Gabriel, at TK, at himself. He was just angry with the universe and the unfairness of it all, so he lashed out, hitting his steering wheel one, two, three times, until his knuckles began to hurt. But the pain seemed to anchor him and pull him back from the edge.
Carlos could still feel TK's hands on him, not loving and exploring, but hurt and angry, and the sensation threatened to break his heart in two. He knew TK was a physical guy, he just never expected to be on the receiving end of that with anything but love, comfort and affection. But that's just who TK was and Carlos loved every part of him. In their time together, Carlos had learned that TK craved what was tangible, probably because so much of his past had been spent floating in the clouds. That meant that sometimes TK sought reassuring touches: fingers intertwined, a shoulder squeeze, a hand over a knee. Other times he got physical in bed, or the couch, the shower, or the floor and every time Carlos reciprocated with a smile. But on fewer occasions, when TK's upset with himself or the world, and his restless energy couldn't be released by a caring touch, his self-destructive tendencies won and he craved other types of physicality. He hit the punching bag, he punched two Texans at a bar, and this time, he shoved Carlos against a firetruck... Carlos understood, but it still hurt.
That second to last thought made Carlos stop dead in his tracks, as he thought back to one of their first meetings. When TK had been cuffed, bruised and beaten, sitting on his desk at the station after just being arrested after a bar fight. TK had said he wanted to feel something, and for Carlos now it was the opposite. He wanted to feel nothing at all. But he knew you couldn't choose either way, that's not how life worked. But did TK?
Panic rose in his chest as he remembered the rest of that conversation, and TK's confession, and for a moment Carlos willed his frantic thoughts to stop. He grabbed his phone and searched his contacts, see you tonight, babe, I love you. TK's last text message mocking him with a promise that wouldn't happen now.
Carlos' finger hovered over TK's name for a few minutes, more than a few times coming almost close enough to connect the call, but in the end, Carlos just set his phone back down and closed his eyes. The fear was still there, an all encompassing terror that mocked him with TK's words from that day, with substances.
But Carlos pushed it all down. The pain, the heartbreak, the guilt, but above all, the instinctual need to play hero, to be a savior, and TK's knight in shining armor. Today was not the time for that. Not out of anger, because God knows he could never be angry at TK, but just because as much as he wanted to fix things, he knew this day wasn't his to fix. At least not until tomorrow.
TK needed space, and if he was honest with himself, he did too. Talking now could lead to another fight and heated words, and he wasn't sure they could come back from two of those on the same day. At least not unscathed and without hearts seriously bruised. And Carlos really wanted to avoid that if at all possible.
So even if it hurt, he would let TK be, and hope for the best. If the worst happened, Carlos would be there to pick up the pieces. But TK had a team now, and he was currently surrounded by them. But more importantly, Carlos simply had faith in TK, in the strength of his character and all the love in his heart he had to give.
Today Carlos would lick his wounds and patch up his heart, but tomorrow he would fix this. Because as much as he might want to deny it, a fixer is what he was. And he would always be ready to fix TK, so he continued to avoid his next fix. Even though Carlos loved the whole of him, cracks in the armor, baggage on his back, and doubts on his heart; but he knew TK wanted to be better and continue turning his life around and who was he to deny the love of his life anything. But until then, Carlos would finish his shift, go home and release his stress in the kitchen. Maybe cook something and have it ready for whenever TK returned home.
-x-x-x-
"TK… how are you doing?" Carlos asked, drawing his oxygen mask down.
"I'm fine," TK instinctively replied, voice raspy after all the smoke they had inhaled during the fire, "and push that over your face." Turning sideways, TK pulled the mask back over his boyfriend's face. One of his own secured around his face. And an extra large blanket spread over both of their bodies as they laid together on a bed in their hospital room.
After the fire was put off, and everyone had calmed down, TK and Carlos had wanted nothing more than to go home together and curl up in bed, but they no longer had a home to go to, so when their fathers and friends had insisted on getting checked out at the hospital they had easily agreed. Their families and friends had been with them for a while but had eventually left knowing the boys needed time to themselves. And now here they were.
"Really?" Carlos pressed, brow quirked upward.
"I am," TK said, surprisingly managing to sound confident even in the midst of being the victims of a serial arsonist and almost losing their lives.
"How?" Carlos wondered. He was usually the calm and collected one, but right now he felt the world spinning out of its axis.
"I still have you," TK said simply, running his fingers through Carlos' curls. His boyfriend unconsciously leaned into his touch, making TK smile.
"Yeah," Carlos breathed out. "But we have nothing else."
"Carlos, with you, I always feel like I have the world. So much that I often feel like I don't deserve this much… or you." TK's eyes darkened as he remembered the previous night and how close he had come to losing his sobriety, but he pushed the memory away. Carlos had enough to deal with right now, but TK promised to himself to tell him later, because once they had become an official couple, they had promised to never hide anything from each other, and a fire might burn down their house, but it didn't touch their promises. "Losing the condo hurts, a lot. But, as long as we have each other, I think we will be okay. At least I know I will, and I hope you will too."
Carlos turned to TK and hated the brief uncertainty that he saw in his eyes, so he lowered his mask again, then followed suit with TK's, and turned sideways. TK met him in the middle and they shared a kiss. It tasted of smoke and ash but Carlos and TK pressed forward and deepened it. Showing destiny that together they would always be stronger than any force that tried to destroy them. Stronger than the fire that had burned down their physical home. They were earth, steady and each other's rock and grounding presence. Water, drowning in each other's depth and flowing into each other until they became the perfect team. And free like air, ready to be the wind behind their sails, and always each other's breath of fresh air.
"I love you," Carlos said when air became a necessity, which happened more quickly than it usually did, given they had already been deprived of oxygen enough for one night.
TK said nothing to that, just pulled Carlos to him and kissed him again. Because they had also been deprived of each other, and right now they'd both rather share their oxygen and give in to that stronger desire. And proving Carlos' thoughts from the previous day right, TK quickly got physical, hands roaming over Carlos' body, as he tried to touch every part of him. But this time, Carlos knew TK wasn't looking for a repeat of what had happened earlier that day in what used to be their bedroom. Tonight, TK's hands only sought reassurance. And Carlos had the same necessity, so he let his arms move freely too. Each touch letting the other know that they were truly okay, they had survived, and that's all that mattered in this moment. All the rest could be dealt with at a later time.
"I love you, too," TK said eventually, when oxygen was running low again, a barely suppressed cough making Carlos' brows furrow in concern. "And I'm sorry you lost your apartment. I know how much that place meant to you."
"Our apartment, TK. Our," Carlos said softly, "maybe once we find a new place and start over again, you will finally start calling it our." A breathy laugh escaped his lips, but it never reached his eyes. "And it did mean a lot to me, but not nearly as much as the man I shared it with. Last year that condo was just a house, babe. Only after you came around did it become a home."
"You're my home too, Carlos," TK croaked, moving his finger over Carlos' face trying to get rid of some soot that still clung to his boyfriend's skin. "And I'm so happy you're okay. For a moment there, I also didn't think we were gonna make it out." Suddenly, TK's expression changed as he stared as his darkened finger and his eyes clouded with tears. "Oh God, I could have really lost you tonight." In that moment, the dam finally broke and all of his emotions came cascading down, his breath turning into small wheezes as TK finally let his guard down. He had been strong for the two of them during the fire, letting his firefighter instinct kick in as they fought to stay alive and then stood outside the charred structure that had been their house. But now the reality of everything was catching up to him and TK could do nothing but break down.
"Hey, come here," Carlos whispered, turning all the way to the side and pulling TK into his chest, his arms going protectively around him. "Baby, you're okay, we're okay. Breathe TK, it's okay, we're okay," he whimpered, tears streaming down his face now too.
For the next few minutes the only sounds in the room were the noise of the medical equipment, the barely suppressed sniffs and coughs that managed to escape the two men, and the many whispered promises only for each other to hear.
"Are we going to be okay?" TK asked eventually, voice muffled by Carlos' shirt.
Drawing back, Carlos looked at TK and tried to read his boyfriend. Trying to keep a calm appearance even as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. "What do you mean?"
"You and me, Carlos. Can we get past this?"
"Do you want to?"
"Of course!"
"Then we will," Carlos said with full certainty. "Where there's a will there's a way. Especially for two people that make such a good team."
"Okay," TK said simply. "Tomorrow we can get an Airbnb, or go to one of the six houses offered to us, and start looking for a new place. We will both be out of work for at least a week or two, so we have time to start the process at least."
"Yeah." Carlos smiled, glad to set their sights into the future and not on what had been lost today. "And you know what's the first thing we're getting for our new bedroom?"
TK looked up and scrunched his nose as he thought about it deeply. "A bed? Although we are pretty good on the floor too. As long as the room's carpeted," he offered, a proud, little teasing smile on his face.
"You're adorable when you're trying to be flirty," Carlos let out with a chuckle. "But no. A fire extinguisher for the bedroom."
And TK could only grin at that. Carlos joining him soon after. Their relieved laughter echoing in the room as their eyes started fluttering closed.
"Carlos?"
"TK?"
"I'm sorry. For fighting you, and pushing you. I should have never done that. Sometimes I still revert to old habits, but I know that's no excuse. And I'm very sorry."
"We said-"
"I know what we said, Carlos."
"TK we almost died today. The fight, it doesn't matter, and we agreed-"
"Babe, I know, I know, but just listen to me. The fact something worse happened, doesn't mean what I did was right. You are always there for me, and you didn't deserve to be treated that way," TK said sincerely, looking up into Carlos' eyes and moving a shaky hand to wipe some stray tears from his cheeks. "Besides, if you can apologize a hundred times for the fire extinguisher, I can apologize for something that really needs forgiving. I love you, Carlos." TK also wanted to say that in hindsight, a fire extinguisher would have achieved nothing in that fire, but he let Carlos have that small, manageable thing to focus on, instead of the ruin that had become their home.
"I love you, too TK," Carlos breathed out, "and I forgive you, but there's one thing you can do to make it up to me."
"Anything."
"My turn." Carlos turned himself over on the bed, so his back was to TK and sighed deeply as soon as TK hugged him close to his chest. "Thank you." He grabbed his boyfriend's hand in his and intertwined their fingers, but quickly frowned at what he saw there. "What happened to your hand?"
"I could ask the same thing about yours, babe," TK said knowingly, "we can exchange stories tomorrow. There's a lot we still have to talk about. But now, sleep. We have work to do tomorrow, and a home to start rebuilding."
"Okay," Carlos agreed easily, knowing there were still some talks they needed to have, with each other, but also their dads. Because TK might have been the one that pushed Carlos, but Owen and Gabriel had pushed them both into that situation. But that could all wait until tomorrow. "Good night, TK."
"Sleep well, Carlos."
TK's existence had been gray before Carlos, and Carlos' life had just been black and white. But, tonight, even in the midst of the fire that destroyed their physical home, their lives were full of color. Because all that had been lost could be fixed, and that only meant there was something still worth fighting for. And they still had their families, their friends, and each other, and that was the only home that truly mattered, and that if lost, could never be replaced. Everything else would just fall back into place, as inevitable as TK and Carlos falling for each other.
So, content in each other's arms, and just happy to be alive, Carlos and TK finally drifted off to sleep. Oxygen masks discarded to the side, blanket halfway to the floor. Knuckles, hearts and egos bruised. But a smile on their faces. Because for as long as they were a team they knew they could do anything. And they were lucky, because The Reyes and Strand families truly made a pretty good team.
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Like a Muggle
A/N: This is inspired (and a roughly written one-shot in my side-verse) by @headcanonsandmore aka Dadcanons and their musing of Ron being an awesome father to his kids.
Rated T for innuendo and some snogging but also veiled references to physical violence and social mortification. 98% Ace Safe. This will eventually end up on Ao3 and maybe FF.net
For now, though, it’s all for the Tumblr crowds.
Edit: Now on Ao3.
Give me my demarcation line damn it!
Ron opened the window to admit the unexpected owl. He was working in the Wheeze's office, trying to balance the books and was instead accosted by a nondescript brown owl. "Letter from Neville?" Ron unwrapped the twine from the owl's leg. "Need a rasher or a kip?" The owl hooted what sounded like a No. "It's from Neville. Does he need a reply?" Yet another hooting no.
"Wanna run on back then since Neville doesn't need anything else?" Ron reached out and let the owl come to him, stroking his head feathers gently before the owl took off again.
He unrolled the length of parchment, using the readers on top of his head to scan the letter.
Disappointment welled in his heart at first before pride shined. He had to go tell Hermione this straightaway, sod the books for an hour. He grabbed his dark blue cloak for the short walk to the Ministry. Taking the floo was too much hassle for a brisk fall morning. "George, I gotta run to the ministry. Back in a few."
"Bring me back those shipping contract papers that Percy has for us, wouldya? Save a plonker the trip."
Ron threw up a rude gesture while taking the twenty minute walk to the front of the Ministry. He needed the break anyway from the numbers swirling around his head this morning.
Through the toilets and through security, even with the bailiff who knew who he was and still checked him, in the lift down six floors to the Magical Law Enforcement offices, through the rows of desks for the bureaucracy known as the Ministry to Hermione's personal secretary Miranda Blunt.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley. You're not on her agenda today so I assume it's important for her to see you immediately? Well she's using the Floo with her Italian counterpart on business so it will be a few."
Ron smiled, knowing how important Miranda actually was to Hermione. Everyone thought she was just her secretary but only a chosen few - Harry, Hermione, Hemera, and Ron knew that Miranda was also her personal bodyguard at the office, after the few times anyone tried to breach the security of the department to get to her.
"Tea, Mr. Weasley?"
"Please."
"Three sugars, spot of milk?"
"I'd almost think you're related to Hermione with that mind of yours."
"Nah, it's only for the important stuff. Husband's tea is important knowledge. And it's also a way for you to know it's really me."
Ron gave her a lopsided smile while Miranda slipped into the secure office, returning a couple of minutes later with a small tray of tea and a couple packets of biscuits. "Your wife didn't know if you were peckish or not."
"You spoil a bloke, you know that?" Ron tore the packet open and inhaled the contents. He'd missed breakfast this morning on account of other pleasant activities then fell back asleep, only waking fifteen minutes before he was due at the shop.
Miranda went back to her seat and used the contraption Hermione got her last year, called a typewriter. They'd explained it to Ron that it was like writing on parchment but easier to read for those who had trouble reading so many varied scrips from people. Hermione had even gifted one to Arthur and he spent countless hours using it writing to his kids and grandkids.
The door opened up a couple of minutes later and Hermione stood there, making a motion for Ron to come into her office. Ron followed her in and then he kicked the door shut and gave her a enthusiastic greeting, one that she never complained about before pulling back from his lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed. "You rarely come to the office on a Wednesday so what gives?"
"I got a letter from Neville this morning and thought you probably should hear it from me than from him if he sent you a letter, too."
"Letter?" Hermione pulled her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, a faint imitation of McGonagall and scanned the parchment twice. "Detention! Two weeks! Rose Lavender Weasley, of all the people! Hexing two another students!" She looked at Ron and saw him smirking slightly. "You prat. There's a page two, isn't there?"
"Of course there is," Ron handed it over and watched her frown turn to a grimace and eventually into a smile. "She takes after you, she does." Hermione looked up from the parchment and smiled. "You were always so good on speaking up for me and occasionally fighting my battles when I didn't realize there was one going on."
Hermione went back to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a cup, pointed her wand at it and re-heated the black coffee, and took a long sip.
"You must have zero nerves in your mouth," Ron muttered from his seat across the desk.
"You get used to it," Hermione pulled out a length of parchment along with her eagle owl quill and inkpot. "Anything you want to add into the letter I will send off straightaway?"
"Nah, she should hear from you first anyway," Ron knew he'd write a letter later today and send it off tomorrow morning so Rose would know how proud her dad was for her standing up for others.
Hermione went to work writing and in short order, finished it and cleaned up the parchment with her quill. "I considered a howler but I refuse to do that to our child for any reason. I hated getting them when people thought I was toying around with guys during the Tri-wizard tournament. Besides, Neville has everything under control so I'm not upset too much over it."
Ron recalled punching a certain git in the nose and smiled. "Who'd have thought that what started as bullying would turn into a trip for three of the bullies to the hospital ward with Hannah and two weeks detention for Rosie for hexing two students bullying Hugo and his friends, and blackening the eyes of the other two when they disarmed her. I don't think her having a broken hand for punching the boy in the nose was too far for her."
"And Neville did say the boys pulled their wands first and she was disarmed."
"I'm glad I taught her there's no shame in fighting unfairly when it's overwhelming odds."
"I do hope there's no ongoing reprisals." Hermione looked at Ron and saw him shaking his head.
"Nah, if I know any better, I'm sure the sods in question were told off privately to leave Hugo alone if they knew what was best for them."
Hermione let out a stifled laugh. "What kind of idiot takes on a Rose when almost all of her cousins are present these terms? The only one who isn't' there is Teddy, Right?" Ron nodded. Hermione smiled slightly. "Sixth years and she's a third year, Ron."
"She's as tall as many of the boys there, Hermione. It doesn't surprise me in the least. And if there are any further problems, Victorie would probably step in and put them in their rightful place, I reckon."
Hermione picked up the parchment and scanned it one last time. "I think we do need to send a howler tomorrow."
"Really? Why?"
"One of the gits is Zacharias Smith's son and he said that “the only reason you weren’t expelled for this is because of your parents.”
Ron's eyes lit up. "Thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I am."
Yet another demarcation line!
Rose tromped into breakfast, exhausted. She's been in detention with Professor Sinestra until one in the morning helping her sort maps and other useless rubbish. Hugo was the one who loved Astronomy and the stars. Only thing she wanted was to race around the Quidditch pitch and now she was banned for a fortnight, for standing up for those who needed protecting. It was so bloody unfair!
James and Fred said she was brilliant for what she did and so did Molly and Scorpius. Al, being Al, laughed quietly when she said why she'd gotten detention.
She looked up from her seat at the table, her friends with her in commiseration, and saw Zeb sitting across the way, scowling at her with two black eyes and a brace around his left wrist. Madame Abbot Longbottom said it was a small price for him to pay for being a bully on first years - that everyone in the school would know his shame.
Owls swooped in, each dropping parcels for those who were present in the Great Hall. She glanced up and saw a tawny brown owl carrying a red envelope in it's talons. She felt the utter dread in the pit of her stomach.
Her parents sent her a howler. She knew she'd stepped in dragon dung if they were mad enough to send a howler. She felt the shame on her face and neck, a reminder to her that her Dad was the same way. She saw Professor Longbottom surreptitiously pull his wand from his robes, ready to silence it into oblivion if it got out of hand.
One last glance across the way and she saw Zeb Smith smirking, knowing how much trouble she was about to get into.
She took it in a shaking hand and tore the top off, hearing her Mum's tsking loudly. "Fuck," she said under her breath.
"Rose Lavender Granger, detention? Of all the things to get in trouble for, and you chose this," Hermione's voice droned loudly. She was shocked. Mom wasn’t yelling, well, no more than seemed usual. "We are so proud of you for standing up for the younger students. Who picks on first years minding their own business? What prat thinks so poorly of themselves that they'd berate first years for playing in the hallways between classes? "
"Who tries to hex firsties?" Ron's voice interrupted. "Rude!"
“Yes, it was very rude and you were right to intervene.” Hermione’s voice carried across the hall.
"We spoke with your head of house," Ron's voice bellowed, "and agree that the punishment fits the circumstances. Two weeks detention is adequate to us."
"Sometimes the consequences are a fair price to pay." Hermione said.
"Serve your detentions knowing that we are proud of you for standing up for others who need protecting from bullies."
"Love, Dad -
" - and Mum."
Rose released the breath she'd been holding entirely too long and looked across the way. Zeb was no longer at the table and neither were his three friends she'd put in the hospital wing fighting them like a Muggle.
#Dragon's Fics#Hpfic#Romione#Rose Weasley Granger#Ron Weasley#Hermione Granger#Hugo Granger-Weasley#OCs#Neville Longbottom#This ties into my fics from Romione FicFest#where Rose is a quidditch prodigy#and eventually has issues with Mum#But for this one things are still swimmingly good#tw:#tw: off page mentions of physical violence#tw: bullying references
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Give Me a Shot
In light of me recently getting my covid shot and @wolvezzz joining us on Tumblr, here’s a little Bechloe one-shot for you all…
(I had to basically rewrite this due to some stupid mistakes I discovered halfway through in the middle of the night, so I am so sorry if some parts do not seem to add up or are too unrealistic. **I tried**)
(Also, let us just assume that the guy that Stacie is talking about is quarantined with his sister, aka no covid.)
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,571
Pairing: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Summary: In which Beca is supposed to get a Covid shot but instead got a dose of something far more nerve-wracking.
End B/C if you squint. One-shot. Fluff? Covid AU.
On ao3 or ff.net or here...
(I have no idea what to put as an excerpt so here we go...)
Beca hands over the clipboard to the lady at the desk and smiles tightly behind her mask in thanks as she receives a post-it note in return.
“Put this on the chair you’re going to sit in and come back to it once you’re done receiving the shot for the fifteen minute observatory period,” the lady says, bored but polite as she recites the practiced line Beca heard her give to several people before her.
“Cool. Thanks.” Beca plays with the sticky part of the post-it note in her hands as she walks over to plop down into the plastic chair next to Stacie.
“I hope we don’t have to wait as long as Amy did when she got her shot last week,” her friend says, rubbing her own post-it note onto the arm of her chair and crossing her legs as she leans back.
“Fuck yeah. Me too. Amy’s took at least two hours.” Beca copies the taller brunette’s actions and sighs as she tilts her head back, blinking leisurely up at the ceiling.
Stacie groans. “I will punch someone if we have to wait that long; I’m already hungry as it is.”
Beca snorts, despite being ninety percent sure that her hangry friend will do just that, “Why didn’t you get something to eat sooner?”
Green eyes flit to the side to look at her, “Boy from last night didn’t understand the definition of a one-night stand.”
Of course. Beca rolls her eyes and laughs, the sound muffled behind the piece of fabric covering her mouth, her chest quivering with mirth at the prospect of a guy refusing to accept that his “lucky shot” with her friend was over, “Seriously?”
“Yep.” The mask on Stacie’s face moves in a way that’s a telling of her pursing her lips, her gaze following her hand as fingers trace the unmarked portion of the arm of the chair her wrist is lying on, “He wouldn’t leave even when I told him that I had to go and get myself some breakfast with my mom before meeting with you to get my Covid-19 vaccine, even going as far as to offer to be my personal chauffeur.”
Beca lowers her head from the back of her chair and raises her eyebrows, “Wow. That’s like, a serious guy looking for a serious relationship, dude. Are you sure your friend would be okay with this?”
Stacie had informed her the night before that the brother of one of her most trusted friends would be staying the night with her doing some...choice activities.
“Yeah,” the brunette wrinkles her nose, “I had made sure that both her and her brother knew that I don’t do relationships.” She then brightens, as if suddenly remembering a thought, “Oh, he texted me too.” Stacie turns around and rifles in her purse for her phone, humming in her mouth as she pushes aside the keys and tampons within, and lets out a small noise of triumph as she whips out her device, “Aha.”
Beca chuckles at the scene but leans forward nonetheless, eager to spend the time waiting for her covid vaccine in doing something else besides counting the water spots on the ceiling tiles above her head, “What did he say?”
Stacie unlocks her phone, bouncing slightly in her seat in suppressed excitement as she goes to tap into her messages, “Look.”
Beca doesn’t think she has ever seen anything more desperate and pathetic in her life than the digital text glaring into her face, “Oh my god, he wants to know where you are at and wonders if he can take you out to dinner? Dude.”
Even through the mask Beca can tell that a sly and catlike grin had unfurled across her friend’s lips, followed by a mischievous wink, “Right? I don’t think I’ve ever had someone this desperate for another round right after the one the night before.” She then cocks her head, adding the next words almost as if it’s an afterthought, “And the one the early morning after.”
Beca shakes her head in disbelief, eyes scanning the multitude of text messages subsequent to the one she had just read aloud, “Maybe he just wants to see if last night and early this morning was a fluke.”
Stacie gasps in mock offense, yanking her cellular device away from Beca’s face, “How dare you, Mitchell. The Hunter is never a fluke.”
Beca just shrugs her shoulders in response, shifting her legs to accommodate the position for her to palm her chin.
She blinks innocently up at her.
Stacie narrows her eyes.
“Stacie Conrad?”
Both brunettes whirl around at the mention of the name, Beca taking in the blonde hair and blue scrubs standing at the entrance to the hallway of doctor offices hidden from view, and she sighs as Stacie grins and jumps up, practically skipping over to the woman holding a pen to another wooden clipboard in her hands.
They disappear from sight and Beca turns back around, pouting slightly as she waits for her turn, the foot that isn’t hanging uselessly in the air tapping impatiently on the floor beneath her chair. Just as she is about to delve into a full on sulk, a melodic voice chirps her name.
“Rebeca Mitchell?”
Fiery red hair and bright blue eyes meet her gaze, and Beca’s mouth goes dry as the woman waves cheerily at her, her entire body freezing in her seat as the organ in her chest decidedly unfreezes, and it is not until the cerulean pools has vanished into a blink that she has realized that she has stared too long and should probably get her ass up and over there.
Beca swallows and nods, and almost trips over her feet in the act of standing up without first uncrossing her legs. Blushing furiously and praying that nobody in the vicinity has noticed besides her awkward and idiotic self, she tugs at the hem of her blouse and quickly makes her way over.
“Hi,” the redhead greets, the smile lines on her cheeks creasing prettily as she crosses out her name with a ballpoint pen, “Rebeca Mitchell?”
“Beca,” she says, automatic in her response to the correction of the name that she has loathed since birth, “It’s Beca.”
She looks up at her, and Beca wants to slap herself in her haste to blurt out the two liner that she usually only reserves for people with whom she wants to be casual with, “Beca.”
Her fingers twitch at the way her name sounds rolling through the air in that sweet melodic tune, and she suddenly wants to find out how it sounds like rolling off her tongue, clear and without the obstacles of the stupid masks blocking its way.
Before she could do much more than tip her chin in acknowledgement, the redhead has twirled around in a flurry of red and blue, and Beca is dutifully following her down the hallway into the office attached at the very end.
At the gesture for her to sit on the stool in front of the wall, Beca sat, and promptly stares as the redhead sets the clipboard on the table before reaching for a pair of new latex gloves, watching the way she snaps them on and pulls a card out of her scrub pocket, drinking in the sight of her tilting her head as she flourishes her pen over the newly revealed card.
She is so fucking gorgeous.
Beca wishes that she is not in the middle of a fucking pandemic.
“So is that with one C or two C’s?” Her question snaps her out of her daze and Beca has to reluctantly pull her gaze away from the smooth expanse of her neck.
“Oh, um,” she gulps to lubricate her throat, sitting up taller to properly project her voice, hoping upon hope that the louder volume will drown out its slight tremble, “It’s actually Rebeca on paper. With one C.”
An inconspicuous murmur floats into her ears, and if Beca hadn’t known any better, she would’ve described it being accompanied with a teasing smile, “I see.”
Her heart pounds in her chest and it’s a big struggle to refrain from squirming in her stool.
The redhead finishes writing on the card and sets that and the pen aside, before slowly making her way towards her. Beca’s eyes stay determinedly on her face—or more accurately, on what she could make of it—her nerves growing more jittery and jumpy by the second, and she finds herself holding her breath as the redhead comes to a stop, feet away. She nibbles on the inside of her cheek as a gloved hand picks up a small package and tears at the seams, taking out an alcohol wipe and shaking it out, before placing the empty pieces of said package back onto the paper on the exam table from which it came from.
Sneakers step forward and then red hair and blue eyes are inches closer.
“Roll your sleeve up for me, please?” Her voice lilts at the end, Beca’s heart instantly mimicking the gesture, and she fumbles with the sleeve of her blouse on her left arm to comply.
The redhead leans forward to rub at the uncovered skin with the cold wipe, causing shivers to emanate from the affected area and spread through and around every nerve ending in her entire upper body, and Beca has to clench her hand into a tight fist to hold herself still.
“Relax,” she says, not moving away even as she sets aside the used wipe as well, removing the cap from the needle from which contained the Covid vaccine. “You need to relax, Becs; the muscle will sore if you don’t.”
Beca’s gaze snaps up, sure that the redhead had just uttered a nickname of her already shortened name, but apart from the fact that her blue eyes seemed to twinkle even brighter—a fact that Beca stubbornly gives credit to the fluorescent light from overhead, in addition to their sudden close proximity—her expression betrays nothing.
She heeds the request and unclenches her fist, and as the prickling feeling signalling the intrusion of the vaccine starts from her arm, a glare on the breast pocket of the redhead’s scrubs catches her eye.
Dr. Chloe Beale.
Huh.
Beca grins, elated at the realization that she had just found out the name of the gorgeous woman standing before her.
She sends up a mental thank you to whoever had the intelligence and generosity of coming up with the invention of name tags.
The prickling sensation resides, and Beca looks over to see that Chloe is done delivering the shot. She makes to lower the sleeve of her blouse, but a gloved hand brushing against her sensitive skin stops her.
“Hold on, I need to give you a Band-Aid.” Despite the blue latex covering her fingertips, Beca can still feel the warmth and tenderness of Chloe’s touch.
Beca nods, dumbly, as Chloe quickly peels off the ends of the Band-Aid and pastes it carefully over the reddening spot. Gloved hands linger, taking the time to rub out every last inch of the two ends of the patch, fingers wrapping lightly against the circumference of her upper arm, and Beca stares with bated breath, suddenly afraid to look at any place else.
She is glad that she is in the middle of a fucking pandemic.
“There.” It is a soft puff of a sound, and if Beca hadn’t already been so close to her face, hadn’t already been close enough to wish that she had the ability to rip off her mask and smell her undoubtedly sweet and floral perfume, she wouldn’t have heard it. “You’re all set.”
Chloe finally steps away, and Beca wishes that she hadn’t spun around so fast because she is pretty sure that she had just sent her a wink.
“So, here’s the card that I have filled out for you, and it’s really important that you bring it back when you return for your second dose,” the card that Chloe had written on earlier is handed over, covered in beautiful, curling black ink, “And you should receive a text in the next hour or so telling you when that second dose is going to be.”
“From you?” The words had left Beca’s mouth without her notice or permission, and it was not until an auburn eyebrow had risen into the air in amusement that Beca had realized what she had said.
“Fuck.”
She covers her face in her hands, only to be embarrassed even further when the evidence of her forgotten boundary scrapes against her palms. She settles for letting out a groan and closing her eyes, laying her elbows onto her thighs and hanging her head in a full manifestation of her humiliation.
Her body feels like it’s on fire and Beca wants the goddamn ground to open up and swallow her whole.
Chloe giggles. “Not from me, silly. From the Department of Health of the state.”
Beca is positive that had she whipped her head up any faster, her neck would’ve snapped. Chloe’s laugh is like a drug. “Yeah, sorry. That was not supposed to come out of my mouth.”
Now that is definitely a wink. “What was supposed to come out then?”
Her jaw slackens, and if Fat Amy was there in the room with her, she would’ve made fun of her for looking like a fish. The heat in her cheeks burn hotter and Beca hastily shakes her head, hopping off from the stool, grateful that she had managed not to trip like the time before. The hard cardstock digs into her lines of her palm of her right hand further with each pulse against the side of her neck, and Beca wills her feet to power walk to the exit of the suffocating room lest she makes even more of a complete and awkward idiot out of herself in front of Dr. Chloe Beale.
Fingers tug on her wrist, and then something small is slapped onto her card. “Here,” Chloe looks like she’s chewing on her lip, “You forgot your sticker.”
Confusion furrows her brows, but something in her hisses at her to not to say a word, especially when sparkling blue eyes dart down the hall agitatedly as if its owner knows that she is doing something she’s not supposed to and if she is caught, she is going to be in major trouble.
There seems to not be enough air in the world for her to suck in, and Beca clutches both the sticker and card tightly against the space between her breasts and speeds down the hallway, her converse squeaking against the floor as she spins to beeline the rest of her way into her yellow post-it noted designated chair.
Stacie looks up from her phone from which 14:39 flashes across her screen and moves her foot out of her way so Beca can sit down, “So? How’d it go?”
Beca finally unleashes the death like grip of her hands, the side effect of her recent dose of something far from a vaccination of a worldwide virus causing her temperature to spike and her body to hyperventilate when ten beautifully, flirtatiously, unabashedly, confidently written digits wink at her from the back of the tiny sticker. “Like how it’s supposed to. I got a shot.”
I think this is gonna be my one and only covid related fanfic; it was absolutely exhausting to write, and I am still 98% sure that I haven’t fixed all the mistakes… XD.
#bechloe#bechloe fanfic#bechloe fanfiction#bechloe au#bechloe oneshot#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fanfiction#beca x chloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale#bechloe fluff#stacie conrad#covid au#mine#middle of the night#I don’t know what I’m doing#i need to sleep
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Nobody Needs to Know
Lord, show me how to say no to this...
Their relationship isn't exactly OWCA approved, but Perry doesn't want to stop.
Based on Say No to This from Hamilton
AO3/FF.Net
TW’s: None
Perry yawns. The cold, grey light of dawn seeps in around the edges of the curtains, yet he hasn't slept a wink all night.
And that's only partly the fault of the man sleeping peacefully next to him.
Actually, it's entirely the fault of this man. This glorious man, the one who drew him in with his sharp wits and marvelous inventions. Who took every punch and kick, then cursed him without malicious intent. The man that he fell for, head over heels. The man he just can't say no to.
So no, he hasn't slept. Instead, he's been mulling things over and over in his mind. How he's going to explain this one to Linda- swamped with work only works for so long. How he's going to lie about his whereabouts to Monogram.
How their relationship can't continue, not like this.
If this was a normal relationship, one where he met the other in a coffee shop or at a concert, he wouldn't have any qualms about breaking it off. (Actually, if this was a normal relationship, he wouldn't need to hide.)
But this is no ordinary relationship. They're nemeses. Friends. Lovers. He has feelings that refuse to go away, feelings he can't just ignore, despite the cloud of consequences hanging over his head.
All because he couldn't fucking push Heinz away. Couldn't just take one quick, messy kiss and call it good. No, he had to fall face first into what's both the best and worst decision of his life.
Best because, well, he's in a wonderful relationship with his nemesis. One that he hates to even consider breaking off.
Worst because if he gets caught, he's fucked. And not in the good way, the way he's enjoyed with his nemesis for the past month.
No, there will be consequences. Consequences that make him truly consider squandering their relationship.
Because there are always consequences. Something like this is beyond an easily explained-away one night stand. It went beyond that as soon as Perry kissed back.
Demotion and relocation is the lightest punishment he could possibly hope for. At it's worst, he'd be earning forty years of jail time in OWCA-traz, no parole, for aiding and abetting evil. Most likely, he'll be forced to relocate, strung along, then fired a few months later over something petty.
He's watched it happen. He's seen agents slip up and disappear. Agents more careful than he.
Of course, he wouldn't have to do this if Dennis (Agent Bunny, which makes Perry glad he got a mature codename) hadn't gone rogue. The reason? He fell in love with his nemesis and realized that Evil was better.
One agent gone rogue, working with his nemesis, inspired by a relationship not unlike the one he shares with Heinz. After that, OWCA clamped down on every single agent-nemesis relationship, romantic or no.
One agent ruined his chances to ever enjoy life.
Is it bad that he considers going rogue to get away from the consequences of this? The consequences of doing something completely unexpected of him. He's a dedicated agent, shot up through the ranks as soon as he graduated from the University Without a Cool Acronym. Something like this defies all expectations, and not in a good way.
He knows what he's expected to do. As the best agent in the Tri-State Area, he's expected to do certain things. Keep a nemesis, but still be able to go on other missions and save the world. Complete every shred of paperwork on time. Never question his loyalty, not like what he's doing right now.
He's also expected to marry another agent. A female agent. Have two point five prodigy agent kids and continue the legacy his parents left him.
The higher-ups aren't even subtle about it. They keep sending him on missions with the same woman, the best agent in the DC division. Agent Kaylee the Koala. They're both highly skilled agents, third or fourth generation OWCA. Born and raised to fight evil. (And their codenames are both Australian mammals. Major Monogram would get a kick out of that.) Honestly, it wouldn't be that bad. She's a good agent, he considers her a friend. He'd be able to get through it, if he could get over Heinz.
That's how he came into the Organization, anyway. His parents had met on a mission in Greece, married not much later. Then they died days before his third birthday. He went into OWCA's foster program for the agency's orphans, shuffled around from division to division. He'd lived in more countries by his fifteenth birthday than most people got to visit in a lifetime.
Once he graduated from the High School Without a Cool Acronym, he was shuffled into the host family program. Some attempt to give him people to come home to.
And it worked. He rents the attic space above the Flynn-Fletcher home. Their family accepted him into their arms. He practically considers Phineas, Ferb, and Candace his own niblings. They even call him Uncle Perry.
Even though he can't tell them anything about his work life, they're still family.
But some part of him still aches for his own family.
It's a choice he has to make. A family he could build from scratch, with a fellow agent. A family that he could be almost true with. Or a family he came into far too late. Even though part of him considers Vanessa and Norm his own children. Norm calls him Dad, for god's sake. A family he could tell the truth to, but not about.
There's a right answer for both sides of him. The side that follows rules longs to take the easy way out, to break everything off and never look back. To say no to this. To request a transfer to DC, keep in touch with Lawrence and Linda and the kids, marry Agent Koala and have children, even if he'll never be truly happy.
The side of him that craves adventure and adrenaline, the emotional side of him says no. It says to stay here, in this bed, in this division, in this town. To throw away everything else for his emotions. To break the chains, to love his nemesis with all his heart. Like he already does, if he's being honest.
He hates to be the one to break the cycle. To be the one surely disappointing his parents. (Although it's not like they would know...He feels horrible for even thinking that.) But he's in love with his nemesis. The feelings run far too deep. It's something that keeps him from ever having a normal life.
Normal for an OWCA agent, anyway. He gave up any semblance of normal life the instant he was born.
And he gave up on having a normal agent life the instant he decided to hang back after a scheme.
They had been cleaning up an exploded -inator. It had been slow going, but they finally finished cleaning up Doofenshmirtz's lab. They took a few steps to admire their handiwork when suddenly, Doofenshmirtz had pulled him in by his tie, sloppily pressing their lips together in a rough approximation of a kiss. Perry had been shocked at first (since when did Doofenshmirtz reciprocate his feelings?), but had quickly accepted the simple truth that Heinz spelled out.
He barely had his wits about him, but he still managed to push the other man away. If OWCA saw, he'd be done for.
But his instincts and desires overwhelmed him. He just couldn't say no, couldn't find it in him to go. It would have been so easy, just sign a fast apology, jump off the balcony, and glide away.
He's never been one to take the easy way out. Never has been. He turned away from the cameras, deactivated them in a way that would look accidental.
Making deliberate eye contact with a hurt Heinz, he tossed his hat away from him, not even bothering to watch where it flew. (Damn if that isn't the perfect metaphor for everything he's done since then, huh?) He pulled Heinz down by the lapels of his lab coat and crashed them together in a hungry kiss. It barely took a moment until Heinz had reciprocated in kind. Long fingers carded through his hair, a bite stung against his bottom lip, his own hands sneaking below the hem of Heinz's sweater.
Things only escalated from there. They spent the night in a whirlwind of guilt and pleasure. There were hundreds of opportunities to leave, to push Heinz away and go, but he didn't take a single one. And Heinz would understand. He would be hurt, but he would understand.
But he didn't say no.
Laying in Heinz's bed that night, breathing hard and barely able to process what happened, he promised himself never again.
It was only supposed to be once. One time. One night.
Shame burned in his gut as he had kissed Heinz goodbye (god, he just couldn't stop) and flew home. The shame only intensified when the Major demanded to know why Heinz had kissed him.
His stomach in knots, he signed that it was a misunderstanding, lying that of course he didn't want it. It took every part of his self control to keep his hands from shaking.
He's used to lying. Lying to Linda and Lawrence and the kids about his job. Lying to Heinz about his personal life. Lying to himself, telling himself that he's going to stop. But this feels different. Like he's lighting the fuse on dynamite beneath his feet.
To a certain extent, every lie feels like it's a house of cards just waiting to tumble down. Some do, ending in relocation at best. Some get rebuilt, like the mishaps with the second dimension.
This lie feels even more precarious, like the cards are made of glass. Glass that will cut him on the way down. Glass that will shatter and never be able to be repaired, not in the same way, not ever again.
Intellectually, he knows that every lie has a time limit. He's honestly floored at how his house of cards hasn't fallen, hasn't toppled and taken everything he knows with it. Every secret escapes, even the best-kept ones.
A part of him still loves it. Loves the thrill and the excitement. Craves the nerves that still bubble in his stomach every time he and Heinz fall into bed together.
It was only supposed to be once.
But it wasn't just once. He's practically become addicted to the way Heinz kisses him, soft yet still desperate. The way they understand each other, understand the constant internal conflict over good and evil. He can't get enough of the way they slot together, physically and emotionally. Stoic and emotional. Quiet and constantly talking.
How can something supposed to be so wrong feel so right? How can he say no to this? He can't stop, and part of him never wants to.
He shouldn't feel like this, but he does.
Perry lays back down in Doofenshmirtz's bed, burying his face in the shoulder of the man himself. He wraps his arm around Heinz's thin body, and holds him tight.
It's their secret. Some day, it will escape. But right now, nobody needs to know.
#sam's fic#perryshmirtz#human perry the platypus#perry the platypus#perry the human#human perry#doofenshmirtz#doctor doofenshmirtz#heinz doofenshmirtz#owca#pnf#phineas and ferb#fic#my fic#secret relationship
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Smut prompts - Bikinis to the side
Written for @superpixie42 ~ Hope you like it! <3
AO3. FF.NET
~.~
Inuyasha had many reasons to hate Miroku’s pool parties; the stench of the chlorine aggravated his nose, the noise from the crowd, all jam packed into one tight space, the pure fact that his best friend would, without fail, manage to get drunk off his ass and require him to break up a fight or two… yeah, there were about a million little things about the annual event that did not bode well for him. But if he was being honest, what was really the worst was seeing Kagome.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected to see her; they had actually made plans to avoid each other, not wanting to draw the attention of prying eyes into their not-relationship- relationship. It wasn’t like she was doing something wrong- she was just holding up her side of the bargain. He just didn’t expect his reaction. From the day they met they had been draw to each other, like an invisible force was pulling them together;
From the start, they had discussed needing space, not using labels and all the other bullshit things you say when all you really mean is ‘lets just fuck’. He didn’t think she would become such a permanent fixture in his head, in his apartment or between his sheets. It felt like every damn night he was between her legs and just the thought alone had him craving her. He wanted more and it was becoming hard to deny that anymore. He wanted to dominate her, to possess her, to make sure no one else could get close to her; Kagome brought out aspects of his personality even he wasn’t familiar with, animalistic ones that made him uncomfortable.
But they had been so clear in the beginning; they had both agreed to keep it simple. Both agreed that it shouldn’t turn into anything more. She had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and he was still distrustful after his ex. Even knowing that, his blood demanded more. He wanted everything from her and he was afraid. If he asked, would she say no? He felt like she had to care for him, even a little bit. It had started off casual, but somehow, it had morphed into him showing up at her doorstep, Chinese take-out in hand and ready to pounce on her the second she opened the door. He felt addicted to Kagome Higurashi and it was damn near dangerous. If he rocked the boat and questioned their relationship, would she get scared? Never see him again? Inuyasha didn’t think he could handle that.
The pool party seemed like a good test; not that he was that type of person, not normally. But somehow, he had become too much of a coward to face his feelings and chance getting rejected. As they sat on his couch, Kagome’s head resting in his lap as he idly played with her thick black hair, he casually asked if they should act like the strangers their friends thought they were at the party. If she was upset by the idea, then he would know it was safe to confess; but if she easily agreed, well, he’d have his answer. For a second, he thought he had hurt her feelings, her brows bunching together, as if trying to sort through what he was saying. Kagome swiftly recovered, smiling as she shrugged her shoulders, before leaning forward to button his jeans, her mouth wrapping around his dick so quickly his head was spinning. The answer wasn’t as clear, or not as clear as he needed, so he decided to go forward with his plan, and rely on the party to try and feel her out.
It was a fucking disaster.
From the minute he crossed the threshold, he was itching to get close to her. Despite Miroku’s summer home being swarmed with people, music blaring as the guests enjoyed the water, he caught her scent, eyes going large, ears trained to pinpoint her voice without a second thought. It was different to hear her in a group setting and not moaning his name, but it still sounded sweet. On instinct, he moved toward her, unaware he was making a beeline until she was right in front of him.
It wasn’t like it was the first time he had seen her taut stomach, or the curve of her hips. How many times had he left bruising kisses on the swell of her breasts? Yet there was something about seeing her in public, so exposed that made him feel a jolt of electricity like it was the first time. It wasn’t just that; the outfit itself was incredible. He was turned on and pissed off all at the same time. How could she let other people see so much of her?
Kagome was wearing a bikini that fit like a second skin. It was a mixture of clear mesh and red fabric, an optical illusion that made it seem like she was less covered than she was. Small red triangles barely covered her dusky nipples, the mesh making up half of her top. And her bottoms, gods, it was almost like wearing nothing at all. He’d seen her in panties that covered more. The last few days she had refused to let him be rough, concerned if he sparked her too hard it might leave a mark- and he was regretting it now. Her bottoms hugged her perfectly rounded ass, completely free of any signs of their rough play. He tried to bottle down the possessive feeling, reminding himself that as far as everyone else was concerned, they were perfect strangers.
She was laughing with Sango and thank the gods, Miroku was by her side too. It was an easy excuse to get near her. He made his way through the crowd, and Inuyasha was sure she had seen him; yet she didn’t acknowledge him in the slightest.
She was ignoring him. Taunting him, really; doing her best to get under his skin, and it was fucking working. Kagome was acting as if she didn’t know him, as if the day before she hadn’t been pressed against him, her plump lips humming on his cock.
Inuyasha wasn’t going to back down; he continued to his friends, more determined to talk to Miroku than he ever had been in his life. As he made his way over, Kagome finally looked his way, blue eyes locked on amber.
“Oh, hey.” She said, sounding more casual than he expected. “That’s your friend, right Miroku? The one that gave me a ride?”
That’s how it started. After a particularly long dinner party, he excused himself the first moment he could. He was surprised to find Kagome trailing after him, asking if he could give her a lift, claiming she had a bad headache. Kagome wound up in the drivers seat before they even got to her house.
“About time you show up, asshole.” The blue eyed man greeted, a toothy grin not matching the harshness of his words. “I was wondering if you were going to make it at all.”
“I almost didn’t come. You know I hate this shit.” He answered honestly. If it wasn’t for Kagome going, he would have skipped it altogether. Inuyasha nodded hello to Sango before locking eyes with Kagome. His tongue felt thick, too big and clumsy for his mouth. He was going to say the wrong thing. When he didn’t acknowledge her, just letting his amber eyes settle on her, she picked up the conversation.
“We’ve met before.” She supplied, an easy smile toying on her lips, eyes slightly narrowed as if she was trying to grapple with who he was. “You gave me a lift home a few months back from Sangos dinner party. Your inu-?”
“Yasha. Inuyasha.” He answered curtly. He knew it was a ploy, but it pissed him off and he couldn’t help it.
She smiled and his stomach rolled. “Right, sorry.” She apologized.
“Don’t take it personal. She can tell you how every nerve in your body works, but she forgets simple things like her car keys or names.” Sango chirped in. “She uses too much of her brain on school work. You’d never tell it by looking at her, but she’s a natural ditz.”
Kagome blushed, her cheeks coloring to almost the shade of pink when they fucked, before playfully shoving Sango. “Jerk.”
It was hard to look away from her, but Kagome apparently did not have the same issue. They had only been together for a few minutes before a stranger called her name, jogging their way, all muscles and perfect abs.
“I didn’t see you here Kags!” His chestnut brown hair as dripping wet, beads of water dribbling down his chest. Inuyasha didn’t like the nickname; he wondered how they knew each other to begin with. But then the man pulled her in close as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, making Kagome squeak. Inuyasha wasn’t sure whether it was from the unexpected contact or the cool chill of his body, but either way his jaw was set and fists clenched. Strangers do not dislocate peoples jaws just because two people seemed to be on good terms with each other. Kagome smiled as she greeted him, calling him Hojo before creating some space, complaining that he was wet.
“Well if you came in the water it wouldn’t be an issue! You promised you’d go swimming with me Kags!” He pulled her in closer again, trying to make his point. She laughed and it felt like punch to his gut.
“Fine, fine. You win.” She said. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did.
Before he knew it, the stranger was leading her by the arm, dragging her into the pool and Inuyasha was seething with rage. It was taking every shred of self control to not throw her over his shoulder and leave. Instead, he had to stand by and watch as she laughed with the brunette, her body glistening from the water. Inuyasha set his jaw, tearing his attention away as Miroku babbled on.
“I don’t know why Kagome doesn’t date him.” Sango said, once the pair were safely out of earshot. “Hojo is really cute.”
Sango was a traitor. It was too bad, he had really liked her.
“I keep trying to set them up together!” Miroku supplied. “The only reason I invited him was for Kagome. I don’t get why she wont take the hint.”
Inuyasha cut his eyes towards his former best friend. This was all Miroku’s fault.
“Maybe she’s not interested.” He tried to sound disinterested, like Kagome’s love life had nothing to do with him.
~.~
It felt unnatural watching Kagome; she hadn’t made her way over to him, and he had not sought her out. He wondered if this was what it would be like if they split. Would they be forced to attend the same functions, and act like he didn’t know the way she curled her toes when she came, or how she got off on being told what to do? How do people most past that?
Yura had been sitting by him for about a half an hour, filling him in on about her escapades in beauty school. She had dropped out of university to study cosmetology and she seemed happier than she had been in a long while. They had been friends for years, and it was a nice change to see her so at ease. Yura was playful, always a tad too touchy and often gave the wrong impression to those around her, no thanks due to her wardrobe choices. But she was an old friend, and one he was happy to have. Sure, there had been times he had thought about Yura in a less friendly manner, but that was all behind him.
Maybe less behind her though.
He could sense that she was flirting, could smell the spike in her scent. She wasn’t exactly hiding the fact that she wanted him. If it had been a different time, if he had never of met Kagome, he would have been thrilled to receive her feelings and attentions.
But now, he was too focused on watching different men approach her. Did they have any idea that just the other night she came so hard from his tongue she screamed? They couldn’t do that for her, satisfy her the way she needed.
A strong push brought him out of his brooding.
“You’re not listening at all, are you?” Yura pouted.
“’Course I am.” He answered, drawing his attention back to her. He wasn’t really a great friend today.
“Then what was I talking about?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts pushing up from the action.
Inuyasha reached over, tugging on the ends of her short bobbed cut. “How you cut your hair yourself.” He smiled. “I’m surprised you did. You’ve always had long hair.”
“I needed a change. Do you like it?” She looked hopeful.
“Its cute. It suits you.”
Yura smiled, pleased with his answer. If Inuyasha was a better person, he would have given her his attention; but he was a bastard, too focused on watching some asshole throwing himself at Kagome. Digging his claws into the palms of his hand, he tried to remain calm.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He stood up, excusing himself before stalking towards the house. There were people filtering in and out, the kitchen filled with food and alcohol. Inuyasha slumped over the kitchen island, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he covered his face in his hands. This was too much. He needed to come clean, needed to make things clear with Kagome once and for all. This was torture and he wasn’t a fucking masochist.
He smelled her before he felt her, their shoulders bumping as she leaned into him, posture mirroring his.
“You okay?” She asked, a note of concern in her voice.
“Feh, I’m fine.” He had been waiting to talk to her all day, and now that he had the chance, his tone was sour.
“You sure? You look pretty pissed off.” She
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He bristled. “That Hoho guy has been like your shadow all day; like a damn puppy.”
Kagome narrowed her eyes at his harsh words, a slow smile creeping in. She was beginning to understand. “He’s just a friend.”
“A friend that wants in your pants.” He regretted it the second it came out, fully knowing how jealous he sounded.
She shrugged. “I’m not interested in him.”
Inuyashas mood brightened significantly. “No?”
“No.” Kagome shook her head, feeling playful. “He’s totally not my type.”
She looked so beautiful, her pale skin complimented by the red of her swim suit. Her long black hair was still wet, falling in waves around her shoulders, curling up at the ends. She was looking at him with bright, blue eyes, a smile he had seen so many times before. He was just as drawn to her now as he had been the first time they met. “And what exactly is your type?” He asked.
She bit her lip and let out a quiet laugh. “You really don’t know?”
Inuyasha paused for a beat, considering her words. He leaned in, lips just brushing the shell of her ear. “I want to fuck you.” He whispered. “So bad.” They were so close he felt Kagome shiver. To anyone else, it would look like two people trying to talk over the music, not a half demon confessing he wanted to have sex in a crowded kitchen.
“Right here?” She kept her voice low, matching his. “There’s a lot of people around.”
Inuyasha smirked. He straightened and moved behind her, letting his hands fall to her hips as he pulled her close. He didn’t care who saw- in fact, he wanted everyone to fucking see. She was his. Instinctually, she leaned into him, craning her neck to hear his next words. “I could just move your bikini bottoms to the side,” he said, snapping the band of her suit, as if to make a point. “no one would notice.”
Kagome bit back a moan, the idea sounding more enticing by the second. He could already imagine her gripping onto the counter as he took her from behind, one hand holding her bottoms away so that his hard cock could press into her wet pussy.
“I think they would.” She said, breathlessly, her delicate hands covering his, wrapping them around her stomach. The gesture looked sweet, but Inuyasha knew she was trying to draw him away. She kept her voice low, just loud enough so that he could pick up her words thanks to his demonic hearing. “You’re pretty loud when you fuck me.”
Inuyasha hugged her from behind, placing a soft kiss to her temple. “That’s because you feel so damn good.” He murmured into her hair. For a pair that were so concerned about keeping it simple, they were not playing the part of strangers well. He knew any moment someone was going to ruin this for them, and as much as he wanted to declare that Kagome belonged to him, he always was now completely turned on.
He needed to act; Inuyasha gripped her hand, giving it a tight squeeze as he le them out of the room, navigating the halls with practiced ease. He brought them to the sunroom, the nearest place he could find that wasn’t occupied by people, probably due to all the open windows. It didn’t exactly give privacy, but then again, he didn’t exactly care at this point.
Inuyasha trapped her against the wall, caging her between his arms. He had been dying to get this close to her all day, but she had been swarmed with people buzzing around her. In fact, he could smell the faint scent of other men clinging to her and it was infuriating. Inuyasha leaned down, his nose running over the column of her neck before he gave her soft skin a nip.
Her body jerked, though there wasn’t much room for her to move; the result was more her grinding against him, the feel of his growing erection sending a jolt through her. She breathed, attempting to move away. “Theres- Theres people right outside-”
Inuyasha continued his assault on her neck, letting one hand trail down to her hip, holding tight and dragging her close. “I don’t give a shit.” He began to rub small circles with his thumb, brushing over the skimpy piece of fabric; he needed her touch too badly to care about anyone else there. Her mouth fell open in a moan, giving him the perfect opportunity; he pressed his lips against hers, hungry and desperate. Every time they kissed it went straight to his dick, and today was no exception. The way she worked her tongue should be illegal.
Kagome ran her hands over his sides, earning her a low rumble from deep in his chest. He was pure muscle, all strength and raw power. She had felt him like this more times than she could count, but each time she felt the hot press of his skin she felt something tighten in her stomach. Her hands wrapped around him, gripping his back, leaving crescent shaped marks from her blunt nails. He had hardly touched her and she was shaking.
“And the window- what if som-...mmm.” She lost track of whatever argument she had when his large hands cupped her breasts. He was panting as he hovered over her, dipping his head to suck her bottom lip as he squeezed her tits, his thumb swiping across her nipple, hard under the thin fabric. It was easy to move the bikini top to the side, her full breasts pushed together from the constraint of her top; her pink nipples were taut, hard from being exposed to the cool air and his stimulation. Inuyasha rolled it between his fingers, mindful of his claws when he gave her a gentle pinch. Kagome threw her head back, making desperate sounds as she leaned into his touch. Kagome hooked her leg over his hip, wanting him closer, giving him better access to her pussy.
Inuyasha rocked his hips against hers, the friction of his hard cock against her clit making her whimper. He smirked at her reaction; she was always so sensitive. He knew she would be wet for him, he could practically feel it soaking through their clothes. He was dying to reach down, to let his fingers slide between her slick folds and work her the way that she liked. She arched against him, the contact electrifying, making his dick throb in response. He could feel his precum beginning to leak, coating his bathing suit and making the evidence his desire very obvious. He remembered how a few nights before she had gotten down on her knees, swiping her tongue over the top of head, eager to taste him, eyes wide and innocent as she sucked him.
Fuck her wanted her.
Inuyasha brought his right hand down to play with the band of her bottoms, only briefly.
“We shouldn’t hook up here.” Her protest sounded half hearted, even to her. It was fine to say it, but when it was accompanied by her grinding into him, it lost its meaning. “We’ll get caught.”
He let his thumb press against the cloth delicately, rubbing her clit with as much gentleness as he could muster. Everything in him was screaming to cut the flimsy fabric and throw her to the ground.
“I wont let anyone see you like this.” He promised.
Kagome nodded, hands tracing over his abs, working their way down his stomach. Her long, slim fingers reached into his pants with practiced ease, pulling him free as the other hand pushed his swim trunks down his hips. Kagome gripped his firm penis and gave it a soft squeeze. Inuyasha moaned, head falling forward from the contact. His member was warm, the skin silky smooth as she began to pump her hand, slowly at first, just enough to tease, then faster and faster as his pleasure mounted. He was making noises he barely recognized, broken syllables, pieces of her name, some sort of effort to encourage her, but he was to lost in lust. Taking matters into his own hands, he grabbed Kagome’s ass, lifting her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips. He pressed her back against the wall for better leverage, holding her in place with ease. Inuyasha fumbled at first, nerves and eagerness getting the better of him, as they managed to move her bikini to the side and line him against her entrance. When she felt the hot press of his head against her wet core she let out a soft whine, alerting him that it wasn’t enough; she needed more and she needed him now.
Inuyasha got the hint; he snapped his hips forward, gliding inside of her in one swift motion. The half demon grit his teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control. The sounds Kagome was making filled the room, soft noises at first, accompanied by her nails raking down his bare back. They would leave a mark, flesh scorched red for all too see, but he didn’t care; he would wear it like a badge of honor, that he had brought Kagome to high she lost control. With the way things were going, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long; he could feel the pleasure mounting, the pressure from his balls making them tight and heavy. He was so close, but he needed to make sure she came first.
Inuyasha growled, trying to concentrate rather than get lost in sensation. “I-ah- I’m almost there.” She gripped him tighter, trying to pull his body in closer. Inuyasha twisted his hips, rocking into her at just the right angle, the one that made her scream. She arched, breathless and desperate, and when she felt his calloused thumb rub her clit, swollen and sensitive and she was near tears.
“Cum for me, baby.” He grunted, his voice raspy from strain. It pushed over the edge, muffling her cries into his neck as she came apart, her pussy clamp around him, squeezing his cock over and over, leaving him dizzy. Inuyasha ground his teeth because fuck, she felt amazing. His thrusts were short, rapid, eager to feel the same euphoria she did. Kagome continued to meet him thrust for thrust, arms wrapped tightly around his neck; she leaned in, lips planting sloppy kisses over his cheek as his head slumped forward.
“Cum in me.” She whispered, continuing on as she heard him whimper. “I need you, Inuyasha.”
White hot semen filled her, his penis throbbing inside of her as he emptied his cum. Beads of sweat rolled down his chest, their skin sticky from contact. Inuyasha gave her a slow, heated kiss, rolling his hips once more, making Kagome shiver. He knew he would have to withdraw from her sweet core, but Gods, he could live forever in this moment, she was wrapped around him, covered in his kisses, his scent, his jizz slowly leaking from her; everything about her belonged to him, even just for that second. Regretfully, Inuyasha helped ease her down; She was completely spent, her legs jelly. He wanted to take her home, put her in his bed and lock the doors. Knowing that wasn’t an option, he gave her one last searing kiss before he broke apart and smiled.
“So much for acting like strangers.” Her chest heaved, still trying to collect her thoughts.
“Feh, we were strangers the first time we got together.” He replied, pulling his swim trunks up. “Besides, you’re the one that didn’t want to be seen together. I’m surprised you did this at all.”
Kagome looked half horrified. “Me? You’re the one who said we should act like we don’t know each other!” She shouted, a new rush of energy filling her.
“No I didn’t!” He answered hotly. “I asked if that’s what you wanted- fuck!” From the way she was reacting, did she not want that? This was his fault, from beginning to end. “I didn’t- Damn it, I didn’t mean it that way Kagome.”
She quipped an eyebrow at him, still defensive. “And how did you mean it?” There was a cutting edge to her voice, accusatory.
“Just that- That I wanted to give you the option… to back out if you wanted it.”
Kagome narrowed her eyes, bottom lip drawn in as she considered him. Despite having just brought her to the brink of ecstasy, he was acting shy, nervous.
“Well I never asked for one.” She answered, tone still bristly. The hanyou nodded curtly nodded response. He said nothing for a moment, the silence feeling heavy with things left unsaid. Her answer gave him hope, but he the words he wanted to say seemed to die on his tongue.
Inuyasha sighed, trying to bottle down his fears and muster up the courage he needed. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned his forehead against hers; he felt her soften, and soon she was hugging him back.
“I want you- I want more than what we’ve been doing. I was nervous that if I really asked you out, you’d end things.” Inuyasha swallowed hard. “I like you, a lot.”
He felt Kagome freeze, could feel her heart beating double time in her chest. He panicked briefly, when he felt one of her hands leave his back, only to cup the side of his face. But when he looked down into her eyes, he saw only happiness.
“I really like you too.” She smiled, biting her lower lip. “
They would have to go back down to the party, would have to explain the kiss marks and love bites, the redness of her ass and the nails down his back.
Or they could leave; take off together and fill the others in later. There would be plenty of time to introduce each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. For now, they could spend the remainder of the day wrapped in each others arms, tangled between her legs.
It was an easy choice to make.
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39 inukag?
Here we go! Continuing that little college AU, hope you will enjoy!
One — Two — Three — ff.net — Ao3
39.“Stop wandering off! I keep thinking you’ve gotten abducted or something. I swear I’ll put you on a kiddie leash. Don’t tempt me.”
Inuyasha paused when he found Kagome waiting for him after practice, again. He had not been expecting her. They hadn’t made any plans, he hadn’t asked her anything, and yet, here she was, looking around. Waiting. For him.
“Hey,” he said, voice sounding gruff, as he walked towards her. “What are ya doing here?”
“Well, I figured you could come over tonight, but first we need to go buy some stuff. Are you free?”
He rose an eyebrow.
“Is that a date?”
“A date to the grocery shop? Sure. I’m just that romantic.”
He scoffed, then shrugged. Why the fuck had he even asked?
“Sure.”
“Yay, it’s a date then!”
He stared at her, then laughed a little. His heart has just jumped in his chest a little, and it was ridiculous honestly, but shit, he couldn’t help it. Kagome watched as his expression changed. She liked to make him laugh. She liked the way he sounded, his deep voice, and she was always a little surprised by how unsure he seemed. Like he didn’t laugh a lot, like he didn’t quite know how to do it right. She was more than happy to help him train.
She took a step towards him and slipped her hand in his.
“Let’s go!” she said chirpily, hoping her voice didn’t go a tad too high, because, wow, she couldn’t believe she was doing that.
Inuyasha looked down at their hands, following after her. Her hand was small and soft, and of course, Kagome was far weaker than him, and yet he didn’t feel like there was any way for him to resist her pull. No use, either. He grinned, and let himself be taken away.
He didn’t know how he could keep losing her in such a small place. She would ask him to go get her something, he’d do it, and by the time he was back, she had vanished. He couldn’t even count on his nose in such a place. The fruit stand in particular was disorienting, but generally, the food everywhere didn’t help him.
With a sigh, he resorted to looking for her the old-fashioned way. Yeah, he could have jumped above the shelves, but something was telling him that the owners wouldn’t appreciate that too much. Also, the ceiling seemed a bit low.
When he found her — fucking finally — he grinned, only for this grin to turn into a frown when he saw the person she was talking to. She didn’t seem too happy about it either, her shoulders tense, her smile forced, and he instantly felt his protective instincts kick in. In a few strides, he arrived next to her, moving his arm over her shoulder.
“Stop wandering off, dammit. I keep thinking you’ve gotten abducted or something.” He eyed the man dangerously. “Ah, Naraku. You’re here too.”
“Inuyasha,” Naraku smiled, giving him a nod, and Inuyasha had to hold back a hiss. His demonic, animal instincts didn’t have much hold on him most of the time, but seeing the spider demon really got on his nerves, in a way few other things did. “Do not fear, I have no interest in your girlfriend. Not in this one, at least.”
Inuyasha’s hand tightened a little on Kagome’s shoulder, but he forced himself to release his grip so he wouldn’t risk hurting her, and his arm fell to his side. He missed Kagome’s little shudder when his warmth left her.
Naraku had always been interested in Kikyo. It had been a subject of conflict, actually. Of course, this was quite some time ago, now, but there were rumors going around that him and Kikyo were an item, and even now, Inuyasha didn’t like that idea. The guy was fucking shady.
“Great. Then get the fuck out of my face.”
Naraku’s lips tightened, but even he wasn’t going to start shit with Inuyasha — or, possibly, with the priestess who was standing next to him. Inuyasha saw his fist clenching, knew he hadn’t made a friend, but he didn’t give a fuck. He watched the man’s back as he left. Good riddance.
“Inuyasha?” Kagome’s voice sounded worried, and he gritted his teeth. He hadn’t meant to do that.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll put you on a kiddie leash, I swear,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t tempt me.”
It worked, at least briefly, and she chuckled.
“Pff, I’d like to see you try.”
He grinned, leaning forwards a little.
“Would ya?”
It was a delight to see her blush and turn away.
“W-we’re almost done here, come on!”
He laughed quietly and followed after her, but the mood didn’t go back to what it was before they had run into Naraku.
They walked back home without speaking, both lost in rather unpleasant thoughts.
“Are you okay?” Kagome asked, her voice soft and quiet, finally breaking the silence.
When Inuyasha didn’t reply, she lifted her shoulders a little, eyes on the ground. She was aware of who Naraku was, of what people said about him and Kikyo and maybe… Maybe Sango was right, after all. Maybe Inuyasha wasn’t over Kikyo, if that encounter was making him react like that. Maybe his interest in her was purely platonic, or worse, maybe he was looking for a rebound. Maybe…
Inuyasha grabbed her hand.
“’m good,” he said with a shrug. “It’s all in the past now, y’know. Doesn’t mean it ain’t—” He cleared his throat. “Doesn’t mean I enjoy having to think ‘bout it, ‘specially not like that, but, well, ’s over, and I know that. There’s— I don’t like Kikyo anymore.”
He was ready to move on.
Kagome didn’t answer. She wasn’t quite sure what she could say, what she should say, what he wanted her to say.
So she didn’t say anything, and she just held his hand tighter.
#inuyasha#kagome#kagome higurashi#inukag#inuyasha white day#inuyasha fanfiction#asks#my writing#requests#fluff#college au
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unfaithful
Sasusaku Fan-fiction AU Lawers Rated M
FF.net Link to Chapter 1
Chapter 5
Naruto walked out to his porch, to find Sakura and Sasuke having an amicably conversation, which made him glad, not only because he didn’t want to lose any of them in the firm, just imagining how difficult the office would become if these two didn’t make up made his head spin, but also because he was concerned for Sakura, Sasuke could be a complete asshole sometimes, but Naruto knew his heart was in the right place, he usually didn’t mean the insults he threw around.
“There you are Sakura-chan, come back in, Hinata wanted to show you some baby pictures” Naruto said to the pinkette.
“Yeah, coming” Sakura responded to the blond, then turn over to look at Sasuke one more time before going back inside. “You need to ice that, bring down the swelling”
“So…? Everything Ok now?” he asked his brooding friend after Sakura was gone.
“Sure. I think” Sasuke replied. Although he wasn’t, really. There were many things going on in his life right then, things he needed to figure out, starting with what he had found in Karin’s bed, and the fact that instead, all he could think of was Sakura’s delicate hand touching him, it was very concerning for him. I’m messed up. He thought
“You think? You did tell her you are sorry, right?” Naruto asked, crossing his arms around his chest and closing his eyes, trying to figure out this whole drama.
“Yeah… were on friendly terms I’d say”
“Friendly huh? That’s unlike you” his blond friend mentioned.
“And what makes you say that?” Sasuke questioned.
“You’re a bit of a…” dick he wanted to say but decided against that. “Loner… I remember when we hired Shino it took you a whole year to learn his name, and even then, you barely even acknowledge him, it’s like you didn’t even noticed he was there”
“That’s because I didn’t notice he was there, he’s too quiet!…” Sasuke defended and continued. “but… I should tell you something, I guess…” Sasuke began, trying to find the best words to describe his past relationship to Sakura. “Sakura and I know each other… from before”
“You do? From…?” Naruto asked, confused and scratching the side of his cheek.
Sasuke took a deep breath, formulating the best response he thought necessary to give Naruto. The two men didn’t have any secrets from each other, at least not intentionally, Naruto had definitely earned Sasuke’s trust, he had saved him from a life of criminal activity Sasuke didn’t know how to disentangle from. But this, his past with Sakura felt too personal, too intimate to share. Even so, this was Naruto, and Naruto always managed to get the truth out of him, one way or the other, so Sasuke choose the path of least resistance.
“Sakura and I used to be together” The Uchiha said quietly.
“Huh? Together like together? when?” why Sasuke always felt the need to give Naruto incomplete information, he never knew.
“We were together back in high school, before I left, I hadn’t seen her since” he offered in explanation.
“No Freaking Way!” the metaphorical gears started to turn inside Naruto, he started to remember his last own love confession to Sakura, during their Junior year in college.
It had never been a secret that Naruto was in love with Sakura, they spent every free moment they had together, and during the third year in college, during a drunken bender, he began to question her about her feelings.
“I just… love you so much Sakura… why don’t you want me…?” He couldn’t bring himself to care what he sounded like under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol.
“I do love you Naruto…” Sakura said as she hugged him gently. “It’s just… not the way you do… or deserve… I’m broken Naruto”
“You’re not broken Sakura-chan… you are … you are perfect” He drunkenly offered.
“Naruto… I used to be in love with someone else… he left… he abandoned me, he left me in the middle of the road, all alone, to go do…doesn’t matter, the thing is I haven’t gotten over that. And you can’t wait for me to do… not when there is someone wonderful waiting for you and you’re too stupid to notice. Please just… notice her” She seemed to sober up by explaining.
“Wait! Are you the asshole who abandoned her in the middle of the road? How the fuck?” Naruto marbled at the improbability of the whole affair.
“She told you…” it wasn’t a question; it was a statement mostly to himself.
“Yeah mentioned it back in the day, ya know? Who would’ve thought were the prickhole? that’s what we used to call you back in college by the way”
“Did she say why?” Sasuke asked, wondering how much Naruto already knew about his past.
“No, but I can imagine” Naruto said, remembering first the time he met Sasuke, handcuffed to his hospital bed, police officer standing watch at the door, bloody bandages covering the remnant stump where his left arm had been.
Sasuke was the very first pro bono case, Naruto’s godfather made him take right after graduating law school. According to Jiraiya, he was just a kid, and he showed a lot of promise. apparently, he was some kind of genius who had just made all the wrong decisions in his life.
“He reminds me of you” His godfather had said. “A kid without a family, he’s got the same look on his face you had when I got you. Makes me think what would’ve happened if you’d stayed all by yourself”
Naruto made a commitment to his godfather, and to himself then, to help get this guy out of whatever mess he’d gotten himself into. Starting with the law, Sasuke was wanted for being associated with a motorcycle gang suspected of dealing guns in the black market, between other more gruesome things speculated. He was caught fleeing the scene of suspected arson, a police cruiser had rear-ended him on the road, casing the motorcycle Sasuke was riding to slid under an 18-wheeler. He was extremely lucky to be alive; he was told by the doctors.
“You need to tell me everything so that I can help you, ya know” Naruto had said, taking a seat next to the black-haired guy’s hospital bed.
“I don’t need some kid attorney to represent me” Sasuke responded with disdain.
“grrrr…. You really do get on my nerves ya know? And we’re the same age asshole” Naruto responded; he’d memorized Sasuke’s file a soon as he got it. But he was going to need more than his background to help him. “I think we can get you out of this easily, no matter what you did, that police officer shouldn’t have rear-ended you like that, we can get all of this thrown away claiming police brutality, I mean you lost your damned arm…”
“I don’t want your goddamned help!” Sasuke lashed out at him.
“It doesn’t matter if you do, you have it, deal with it” Naruto said, standing up from where he was seated and taking one last look at the 22-year-old man in bed, before leaving him.
There was something about him that made Naruto not want to give up on him. His godfather had been right, he reminded him of himself, but a different version, a version of himself who had just given up hope things will get better. He couldn’t handle that.
He was there throughout Sasuke’s entire recovery. Everyday seated by his bed, talking about anything, where Sasuke mostly stayed quiet, but more present than any attorney would have ever been for a client. He paid all of his medical bills and years forward of rehabilitation therapy. And when Sasuke questioned him about it, finally deigning himself to offer a word to the blond attorney, he simply said “Have a lot of money, inheritance ya know? Don’t know what to do with it” and shrug him off.
It sounded supercilious, as if bragging about how much money he had, but Sasuke understood the meaning behind the words, inheritance… He was alone too. He later learned that Naruto had lost his parents at a young age. Going up and down the foster care system until his godparent was able to get custody. Even then he was nothing but trouble, until he reformed himself. Stipulations left by his late parents mentioned he needed a college degree to be able to get access to his inheritance.
“At first it was all for the money, ya know?” Naruto told him sadly. “But then I started to make friends, real friends who were smart and made me want to be better for them too”
“I don’t have any friends” Sasuke answered. He had people he used for his means. And while Orochimaru claimed, everyone who entered the Brotherhood, as he called the gang, was like family, he never gave a damn about any of them. He didn’t have anyone he wanted to be better for, not anymore.
“Well you do now.” The blond one gave him a smile that for some strange reason made him want to smile too. “Now how about you tell your friend why you joined a gang?”
“Asshole” Sasuke exhaled, irritated at how stupid that line was. He fisted he bedspread of the cheap motel he was currently living in with his sole remaining hand and began “I was 8 when my parents passed away, leaving my brother to raise me, he was only a few years older, but we did good for some time, then he left me too, just out and left, didn’t even get a reason or goodbye, just one day… he was gone, I had to keep that a secret if I didn’t want to be put in the system and keep my parents home. After I graduated from high school, I found that he died. Orochimaru came to me then, said that Itachi had joined the Brotherhood and was killed by a rival gang. He offered me a chance to get revenge. I took it. My brother was a good man, he didn’t deserve to die, I didn’t understand why he’d even joined the Brotherhood in the first place, I guess I joined too to figure that one out”
“Is that what you want, to get revenge? No matter what happens to you?” Naruto asked him.
“I don’t even know what I want, I don’t have anything else to do” Sasuke responded.
“I can help you figure out what happened to your brother Sasuke, and get justice, not revenge but justice, you don’t have to throw your life away for that” He offered.
x
“Does Karin know that?” Naruto wondered about Sasuke’s wife, with both girls working at the office, and how dramatic Karin tended to be, drama was bound to ensue.
Sasuke shook his head no. “I hadn’t seen Sakura until you brought her to interview, and I never told Karin”
“Should we keep it that way?”
“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter either way” Leaving a crying Sakura in the middle of a dark empty road had been one of the biggest regrets of his life. It was a terrible thing to do to a girl, but he needed to be terrible, otherwise she wouldn’t have let go. And with Karin, he didn’t currently feel like opening up about his past to her, besides she was keeping secrets of her own.
“Well she works with us now; we don’t need that kind of drama around the office” Naruto said. “Just… try to be nice to Sakura, or at least your normally aloof self, she’s a good person, and a good asset for the company, she doesn’t need you mistreating her like that, I care about her”
“I’m a professional, if you’re suggesting I can’t keep it that way…”
Naruto interrupted him. “You know very damned well what I mean asshole”
And he did, he didn’t exactly keep it professional when he called her a whore. He still had the feeling he needed to make amends for that. He didn’t know how or why, but he would try, it was the least Sakura deserved of him, and he knew, but he simply told his friend “Yeah” and went back inside.
x
Thank you so much if you are still reading this. Please leave a comment so I know you’re still interested! constructive criticism is always appreciated. Is this were you thought the story was going? What do you think should happen next?
#sasusaku#sasusaku fanfic#sasusaku fic#sasusaku fanfiction#sakura haruno#sasusaku au#sakura uchiha#ssfanfic#ss smut#sasusaku smut
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No Charge
Alright, so I wrote this fic for jilytober, but it kind of got lost in the flood of amazing fics that everyone puts out at the end of the month, and when I went back and read it, I wasn’t thrilled, so I decided to edit it tonight, because @women-inthe-sequel and I were geeking about fem!james recently and I after I started editing it, I saw even more people talking about fem!james, and I just think that everyone should be talking about it because jily can only be improved by them being lesbians. Obviously.
Anyway: “Bartender!AU where the bartender says ‘we don’t charge pretty girls here’ and is then super embarrassed.”
wc: 2k
ff.net | ao3
Jamie Euphemia Potter sometimes worked at a small pub down by the river. Her friend, Emmeline Vance technically worked there, but sometimes she couldn’t come in to work her shift, because her kid was sick, or her babysitter canceled. James had worked there during her days at uni, and now, since it was off season and she wasn’t traveling to play games, she had offered to cover any shifts that Emmeline needed her too.
She was feeling nostalgic as she wiped down the counters, remembering all the times she’d gotten to throw grown men out on their arses because they were too drunk and had run up their tabs too high. She remembered all the hot wing eating contests between her and Sirius and whoever else wanted to try and out eat them. She remembered her and Remus hustling just about everyone at pool and darts. Her and Peter’s rendition of Somebody to Love had left no one wanting for... well they had all wanted them to stop singing actually.
They had had fun here and she was having fun remembering all of it.
The shifts were easy enough, making all the drink orders came back to her like riding a bike, and some of the regulars remembered her and made friendly conversation, something that made the clock tick by faster.
Enter the redhead.
Lily Jane Evans was new to town. Jamie knew that because her old boss, who was also the other bartender, had talked to Lily the first time she’d come into the bar, and then answered all of Jamie’s questions rather patiently.
Well, he had been patient to a point.
“Just go and talk to her yourself, Jamie.” Benjy said, picking up the cash box to take to the back office. “I only spoke with her for like, five minutes. Not even. She’s friendly, I’m sure she won’t bite your head off. Though I’ll likely to if you don’t shut up soon.”
Jamie huffed. “I can’t just go and talk to her.”
“Actually, it’s your job. Go and get her order and ask her your weird stalker questions directly.”
“Fuck off,” Jamie muttered, causing Benjy to laugh at her before he turned around and walked away. The two of them had always gotten on well.
Jamie looked down at the end of the bar where Lily was sitting. She started chewing on her thumb nail as she watched Lily twirl a stray coaster that someone had left on the counter. Her red hair fell in curls, stopping just below her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, round and a beautiful green. There was a light smattering of freckles over her skin, so light that if you weren’t staring at her as intensely as Jamie was, you probably wouldn’t notice them. Long thick lashes, a slender nose that was slightly turned up at the end, and her lips…
Jamie cleared her throat and forced herself to stop staring at the strangers mouth.
Apparently she wasn’t done staring in general though.
She had a bag with her, it was leaning up against the bottom of the stool that she was sitting on and Jamie could see a laptop peeking out of it, a few notebooks, a very fluffy pink pen and when she looked back up at Lily’s face, she realized that she had been caught staring.
Which wasn’t really a surprise now was it. Jamie still flushed.
Lily’s bright green eyes were looking at her curiously, probably wondering why on earth the bartender was staring at her instead of walking down to get her drink order.
Jamie grabbed a rag and started wiping off the counter in front of her to make it look like she was busy. Then she rearranged some of the glasses before she ambled on down to the far end of the bar. This wasn’t a fantastic tactic since she hadn’t been doing anything when Lily had first looked up at her. The look on Lily’s face let her know that it had been a shite plan.
“Evening,” She said, rubbing her palms together before she rested them flat against the bar top and leaned forward, not sure if she was showcasing any particular asset or just going with a pose that would show off whatever Lily might want to look at. If she wanted to look at anything. She might be here to meet a boyfriend or she might think Jamie had been rude instead of stupid. “What can I get you?”
Lily pursed her lips slightly, lips that had been painted a candy pink color, like starbursts. The pink ones were Jamie’s favorite.
“You seem awfully busy. I don’t want to bother you.” Lily looked down the empty bar and Jamie’s heart gave a leap. Not because she was being called out though, but because this girl came to play.
“I always appear to be the busiest when I get caught staring at the customers.” She shrugged a shoulder and pulled the rag down again, wiping down the counter in front of Lily now. “I can always take a break from appearing busy though, to get your order.”
“Right,” Jamie couldn’t tell if Lily was trying to hide a smile because she looked down for a moment and when she looked back up, she just looked as though she were considering her. “Can I have a vodka tonic.”
“Sure thing,” She nodded and walked down the bar again to make the drink.
It was only a moment before she was standing in front of Lily again, sliding the drink across the bar to her. “So you’re new to the area?” She asked, running a hand through her short, messy hair, not realizing that she perhaps shouldn’t know this about Lily seeing as how Lily hadn’t told her.
“And what makes you think that?”
“Never seen you around before,” She tried, shrugging a shoulder. “Also that’s what my boss told me.”
“Gossiping about the customers?”
“Only the really cute ones.” Lily laughed and picked up her drink, taking a quick swig that downed half the alcohol. Jamie wished that she could take a shot or two just then. Calm her nerves a bit.
“Right. But yes, I am new to the area. I moved here two weeks ago for a teaching job.”
“Oh? What year are you teaching?”
“Uni.” Lily corrected. “I’m teaching a uni course on calculus.”
“That sounds dreadful.” Jamie’s forehead crinkled as a hoard of number clouded her brain. And the answer did not match the fluffy pink pen that she’d spotted in Lily’s bag. Or the pink lip gloss. Calculus professors were supposed to be stern and monotonous and old. At least that’s what they had been in Jamie’s experience.
“Well if I want the universities funding, I’m required to teach a course. It was that or teach a gen ed lecture. And I have no desire to talk for two hours straight to a classroom of two hundred scholarship athletes not listening to me.”
“I was a scholarship athlete, so I know what you mean. Some of us are terrible.” Jamie nodded sympathetically and this earned her a laugh. Jamie stood up a bit straighter. “But is calculus really better than that?”
“Numbers come easy to me.” Lily shrugged. “And if you’re taking a calculus class, you’re probably going to try at least a little bit. I can work with that.”
“What is your research about then?” Jamie was leaning on the bar now.
“Oh, well, it’s not just my research. I have a partner. We’re studying the metabolic structures of plants to see if they can be altered or replicated synthetically to repair damage to living tissue on the human body.”
Jamie blinked at her for a moment trying to digest something that sounded as though it had come straight from a science fiction novel. “You want to make plant band aides?”
Lily laughed. “Basically. But bandages that don’t come off. Band aids that become a part of you and work just like the rest of your body.”
“That sounds like some science fiction shit.” James shook her head. “And cool as hell.”
Lily bit her bottom lip and smiled. “Yeah, it is cool as hell.” They smiled at one another for a moment longer than was friendly and then Lily looked down. She swirled her drink and then took a sip. “What do I owe you for this?” She asked, reaching down for her bag.
Jamie shook her head. “Oh no, we don’t charge pretty girls here.” And It was only slightly more than what she’d said earlier, but she still felt the flush creep up her neck.
“That’s absurd.” Lily grinned, though she sat back up, leaving her bag where it was.
“It’s the truth.” Jamie held up her right hand.
“You just get to drink here for free whenever you want then?”
It took her a minute to register and then fully appreciate what Lily had said, but when she did, she started laughing as she reached for a napkin and pulled the pen she carried out from behind her ear. “I like you, Lily Evans.” She started scrawling out her number on the napkin. “And no, that discount only works when I’m the one on this side of the bar, unfortunately.”
“Well that’s probably best. Otherwise it’d be pretty hard to keep the place stocked.”
Jamie quirked a brow, “Are you implying that you think I have a drinking problem?”
Lily laughed and Jamie clicked her pen and stuck it back behind her ear. “No, only that a lot of pretty girls would start hanging around here if-” Lily stopped midsentence as Jamie slide the folded napkin across the bar, stopping it right beside Lily’s drink. She unfolded it and then grinned before looking up at Jamie. Her eyes bright and shinning. “And to think, I almost didn’t come in here.”
Jamie ran her hand through her hair and that flush ran up her neck again. “How tragic that would have been.”
Lily opened her mouth to say something, but Benjy was done playing it cool apparently. “Oi! Potter! I don’t pay you to stand around a flirt!”
Jamie clicked her tongue and spun around to face her boss. “Actually, you do! It’s half of my job!” Lily laughed and Jamie quickly turned back to catch a glimpse of her smile.
“Go and clean the tables in the poolhall or I’ll sack you right now.” He went back into the office and Jamie shook her head.
“He threatens to sack me at least once a shift. And the real kicker is that I don’t even work here really. I’m just covering for a friend.” She shrugged but then reluctantly picked up the rag. “Though I should probably go and do as he says anyway.”
“Probably.” Lily took another drink and then inspected her glass. “You know, I’ll probably be in need of another drink by the time you get back.”
Jamie winked at her, “I’ll be back in a flash.”
“Not too quickly, I’m not trying to get drunk tonight.” Lily called after her.
“Perhaps you need to order some food in a few minutes then.” Jamie turned, walking backward as she talked to Lily now. “Stick around a while and give me the chance to ask you out.”
“I get your number and a date?”
“Yes, I might be jumping the gun, but you’re the one who keep smiling at me like that.” Lily’s smile only got wider at that and so Jamie spun back around and rushed off to clean some tables.
And just like that, Jamie was pretty sure that she was going to be thanking Emmeline for asking her to cover this particular shift, for the rest of her life.
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Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows: Chapter 12
Read on AO3 or FF.net
Summary: Regulus learns a little bit about Muggle culture.
Author’s Note: Sorry this is a day late! I’ve been so busy with school! But, I hope you like this chapter. I had some difficulty writing it, but I hope it turned out ok! Thank you all so so much for your reviews. I love each and every one! If you want more content, follow my tumblr @manage-mischief. Enjoy! P.S. JK Rowling is trash :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 12: If You Like Pina Coladas
February 7th, 1979
Saturday morning arrived, and Regulus’s nervous system was electrified. He woke up early in order to prepare himself—physically and mentally, for his trip with Des. As Regulus coated his hands with Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion and ran his fingers through his black hair, he felt like a fool. This trip to Hogsmeade was not a date, it was a mission. Regulus couldn’t afford to reflect on his potential interest in Des until after he discovered Voldemort’s secret plans. He refused to think about the way her thick walnut curls brushed his cheek whenever she whispered to him, or about the way her big grey-blue eyes sparkled with delight whenever she learned something new, or about the way her Muggle jeans accentuated her waist and hugged her…Merlin. He’d let himself get distracted again.
Regulus took one last look at himself in the mirror. Though he had tried to achieve his brother’s signature “effortlessly cool” look, he didn’t pull it off quite as well as Sirius had. Still, satisfied that he looked decent enough, he marched out of the Slytherin Dorms towards the dining hall.
Des was already waiting for him when he arrived. The first thing Regulus noticed was that—for one of the only times since he had known her—the witch looked nervous. She kept fidgeting and fussing with her clothing, pulling on her top every few seconds. She changed position ever few seconds, first leaning against the wall, then standing upright, then shifting her weight to one leg with her hip stuck out.
The second thing Regulus noticed was that Des looked fantastic. She wore high waisted jeans and a tucked-in, tight blue sweater. Her signature clear plastic glasses magnified her eyes and thick eyelashes. Her hair was pulled back in a bun by a red, polka dot bandana like that Muggle poster girl—what was her name…Rosie the Ribbiter? No that wasn’t it…Well, whatever it was, Regulus liked it that way. Des’s eyes darted around the corridor before landing on Regulus. she jumped a little when she saw him. Immediately, she broke into a wide grin, burying any previous nerves Regulus had observed. “Ah, the hermit has left the library!”
Regulus shook his head, smiling. “I thought Miss Ravenclaw of all people would approve of my new studying habits.”
Des laughed. “Come on, nerd, let’s grab some food and go!” Des led him to a table, where Woodrow and Wilhelmina were already sitting, whispering back and forth to each other:
“…bet you five galleons,” Regulus heard Wilhelmina say in a hushed tone. When Des and Regulus arrived to join them, the pair abruptly stopped their conversation. Wilhelmina smiled slyly. “Hello you two. Lovely day for a Hogsmeade trip, isn’t it?” The table jerked violently, and Wilhelmina winced.
“Whoopsie,” Des said unapologetically, reaching for the pumpkin juice. “Terribly sorry, I must have kicked you under the table by mistake.”
Wilhelmina was not deterred. “Don’t worry about it, Dezzie, I’m sure it was an accident” said Wilhelmina, before turning her attention to Regulus. “Well now, doesn’t someone look nice today?” Regulus flushed, and Wilhelmina quickly tucked her legs up onto the bench, avoiding another well-aimed kick from Des.
“Are you two coming out to the town today, too?” Regulus changed the subject.
“After what happened the last time we went to Hogsmeade? No way, mate,” McDrew said.
“Aw, poor Woody’s scared,” Wilhelmina teased. “I’d go, but I’ve got detention. I may or may not have set off a dung bomb in the library to get back at my ex and his new girlfriend.”
“Nice,” Des remarked, her mouth full of toast.
“I’m sure you’ll run into some of the others, though. But remember not to bother Marlene and Dorcas if you see them in Madame Puddifoot’s…or be prepared to deal with the consequences.” McDrew, Des, and Wilhelmina all shuddered at her words. “You two crazy kids had better get going. A line’s starting to form. Have fun,” she chirped.
Des rolled her eyes and stood. “And you have fun in detention, Willy. C’mon Reg.” Regulus obeyed and followed Des out of the Great Hall. As he left, he heard Wilhelmina begin to laugh.
“I still don’t see it, Wil. I don’t think it’s a date. I mean, Des and Reg hated each other up until a few months ago,”Regulus heard McDrew’s not-so-subtle whisper to his friend.
“You’re so thick, Woodrow. They’re obviously into each other! Marlene agrees with me. Ah I can’t wait to hear what happens! Rivals to friends to lovers! Just like all of the best books! How romantic!”
Regulus resisted the urge to go back and kick Wilhelmina in the shin himself. If she only knew the true purpose of their trip to Hogsmeade. He couldn’t think of anything less romantic or “cute” than Lord Voldemort’s plans for world domination.
---
Des and Regulus signed out of the castle with the care taker, and set off upon the familiar path to Hogsmeade. A light blanket of pearly-white snow covered the bare tree branches. The morning was grey and overcast, but enjoyably so. The sun could be seen trying to break through the cloud-covered sky. The cold was refreshing, but not biting. Des’s cheeks and nose were rosy from the crisp air.
Des and Regulus kept a few inches distance between each other. Neither one spoke. Regulus thought that this must be the first time in her life that Des was at a loss for words. “So…” Regulus tried to begin a sentence. The words died in his throat. He really didn’t know how to engage in small talk. He’d never really had to worry about speaking when he was with Ginger, and, recently, so much of his life had been devoted to his multiple existential and moral crises, that he seemed to have forgotten how to have a conversation that didn’t involve his family, Death Eaters, or Voldemort. Regulus pleaded with himself to say something, anything. But, his brain obstinately refused to comply.
Des regarded him curiously. “So…I know a place where you can tell me about…your little problem…without any chance of being overheard. I don’t think we should discuss it out in the open like this.”
Of course. Des was focused on their mission—to discuss Regulus’s Voldemort problem. He should be focused on that, too. “You’re absolutely right,” Regulus said, nodding vigorously.
“You know,” said Des after another awkward beat of silence, “just because we can’t talk about whatever it is you want to tell me out in the open, doesn’t mean we can’t talk at all.” She looked up at the trees, in the opposite direction of Regulus. She bit her bottom lip.
Regulus’s cheeks tinged pink. “I-I know. Um. What would you like to talk about?”
Des considered his question. “What’s your favorite color?”
“What? Why?”
“Why? Because I’m trying to get to know you better, Regulus! Now, what’s your favorite color?”
Regulus thought about it for a moment. “Green.”
“Aw, what a good Slytherin,” Des teased him.
“No,” he said, “not Slytherin green. Green like the ocean. When I was younger, Mum and Dad would always take us somewhere warm for the winter. We sat on the beach, and Sirius and I would make sandcastles. It was nice.”
“That sounds nice, spending time with your family…doing normal ‘family’ things. Before they messed with your mind and you joined an evil cult,” she mused.
“That about sums it up,” he agreed, trying to hold onto the memory of the warmth and the sun and the sand. Oh, how things had changed. “How about you?”
“Purple. Royal purple, like kings and queens wear,” she stated immediately. Regulus raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking her to explain. “I’ve always liked it. Though, I guess it’s also kind of related to a memory. But, just a flash of one—from when I lived in New Orleans with my parents. Right before Dad died, when I was almost four, he brought me to the Mardi Gras parade. I can’t recall the details, but I remember flashes of color: green and purple and gold. And when I close my eyes, I can see his smiling face as he held me and put a purple strand of beads around my neck because he knew it was my favorite.” Des sighed. “Merlin, aren’t we a dramatic pair? We start off at our favorite colors, and end up at the sob stories of our broken families.” She laughed uncomfortably and began playing with the cuffs of her sleeves.
Regulus considered the comment she had made in passing. He thought about his life the past few months. The conversations he’d had, the danger he’d put himself in. Then, he began to laugh. Almost hysterically. He had to stop walking as he doubled over, hands on his knees. She looked a bit concerned. “Regulus? You alright?”
Between gasping breaths, Regulus managed to say, “You-you’re absolutely right! I am so. Fucking. Dramatic!” He lost the ability to speak once again. This time, Des joined in. Together, they stood there, smack in the middle of the trail, laughing. Onlookers passed by and shot them odd looks. But Regulus didn’t care. He felt invigorated—lighter-than-air—like he was forcing out the worries, the darkness that had consumed him for the past years. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this hard for no reason. He felt free. His lungs burned, his stomach muscles ached, yet, he felt alive.
“Do you…do you maybe want to grab a butterbeer like normal people before we go off to your secret dramatic place to talk about my secret, dramatic news?” Regulus asked, before he could think better of it, still high off of his semi-hysterical breakdown.
Des grinned. “I reckon that’d be a nice change of pace.”
---
“You’re mental! There is no way that Potions is better than Transfiguration!”
“You asked my opinion,” Regulus insisted, spreading his hands out in front of himself defensively. He chuckled at Des’s indignation. “You asked what I preferred! I’m just telling you!”
Regulus and Des were seated at a cozy corner table in The Three Broomsticks, sipping their butterbeer and asking each other trivial questions. Regulus almost felt normal.
Des rolled her eyes. “Merlin, I know, but I thought you’d have the right opinion. I don’t know if we can even be friends anymore, Reg,” she said seriously. Regulus stared back, playing along with her faux aggravation.
“Fine,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We’re not friends anymore. Then I guess I’ll just go off and find some other boisterous Ravenclaw to tell all my secrets to. One who appreciates the subtle art of potion making.” Regulus pretended to get up to leave.
Des tilted her head to the side. “Aw, Reg, it’s sweet you think you’d ever find anyone as ‘boisterous’—as you so delicately put it— as me.” Her façade broke, and she began laughing. Regulus joined in.
“You’re absolutely right,” he joked. “You’re one of a kind.” An awkward silence fell over the table. Regulus averted his eyes. “Ok, my turn. Hm… let me think of a good one…Alright, alright. I’ve got it. Favorite vacation?” He asked.
“Oooooh that’s a tough one, Black. I’ll have to think on it. You go first.”
“Greece,” Regulus replied immediately. “I went to see the Quidditch World Cup there when I was ten. England lost, but it was a great game.”
“Merlin, you went to Greece and all you can talk about is a Quidditch match? Not the ruins or the history?” Des chided.
“Listen, I’m from an ancient line of pureblood wizards. I can look at fancy old stuff whenever I want. But Quidditch,” he sighed dreamily. They both laughed.
“Alright, fair point,” Des conceded. “Quidditch. What a good little pureblood wizarding boy,” she teased.
“Hey, you say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ll have you know I’m one of the most eligible bachelors in pureblood society. As we speak, families are throwing themselves at my parents in the hopes of getting their daughters a piece of all this,” he gestured to himself seductively. Des cracked up. Regulus had never felt so at ease bantering with anyone before.
“Oh my, I must have forgotten! I’m in the presence of wizarding royalty! Lord Black! Please accept my deepest admirations! I kneel down at your feet! I exalt you! I envy the woman who traps your arse!”
“Your turn, Lewis,” Regulus demanded, after their laughter died down. Regulus’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
“My turn, right. Okay. The best vacation I’ve ever been on would probably have to be…oh I got it! Our family trip to Cozumel. Uncle Thad was doing some research in Mexico, but Aunt Eliza wanted some time off, so while he worked, she and I went to a resort. I know you can’t really get to know a place just by being in a resort, but I just felt so relaxed. I’d never really bonded in that way with my aunt before—if you couldn’t tell, she’s usually a bit uptight.”
“No, your aunt? Uptight? Preposterous!” Regulus interjected sarcastically.
“I know, what a shocker. But, really, on this trip, we had so much fun together. We sat poolside drinking Piña Coladas and singing that Piña Colada song loudly whenever it came on the radio. It was brilliant.”
“Pee-nya Cold-latas?” Regulus questioned, now seriously. “Song?” Des’s eye widened with glee.
“Merlin’s balls, I forgot all you purebloods aren’t exposed to Muggle culture. Well, let me tell you: Piña Coladas—” Des sounded it out for Regulus “—are by far the best beverage money can buy. They’re made of rum and pineapple and coconut and it’s a rule that you must have one when you are on vacation at the beach,” Des spoke a mile a minute, rambling about her love of the strange-sounding Muggle beverage. Regulus laughed at her enthusiasm.
“Well, if I ever get to the beach again, I’ll have to try one. And there’s a song about them?” Regulus asked, highly amused. Muggles were quite strange.
“Yes! The Piña Colada Song is a musical masterpiece of the modern era,” she waved her hands dramatically. “Oh, my goodness!” She clapped her hands together loudly. “I’m so excited! I get to be the one who introduces you to the Piña Colada Song! Ugh, maybe Aunt Eliza will send me her record and I can borrow Flitwick’s turntable…I’ll tell him it’s an emergency…why are you looking at me like that? Have I got a butterbeer moustache or something? Because if I did, it would be extremely un-gentleman-like not to tell me!”
Regulus was staring at her, his mouth stretched in an uncontrollable grin. “No, no! Nothing like that. I was just thinking about how…fascinating you are, Des. You really are one of a kind.”
Des looked taken aback. She averted her eyes shyly. “Well,” she said, regaining her usual air of confidence “it’s just… I really like the Piña Colada Song.” A breathy laugh escaped her. Cautiously, Regulus placed a hand outstretched on the table. He tried to act casual about it. Did Regulus really have to talk to her about the Dark Lord? Did he really have to think about the impending doom that awaited everyone he loved if he didn’t figure out Voldemort’s plan? Couldn’t he just leave it to someone else and enjoy his afternoon in peace, like a normal teenage wizard?
Des’s hand twitched, moving slightly towards his own. Before she took it, however, she looked up at the clock beside them. She sighed. “I reckon we’d better go,” she said, draining the last sip of butterbeer from her mug. He frowned, but nodded. She was right.
“Come on then, Reg, time for us to have a chat.”
#regulus black#marauders#marauders era#wolfstar#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#lily evans#harry potter fanfiction#Harry Potter#regulus deserved better#jily#regulus black x oc#regulus back/oc#desdemona lewis#ravenclaw#good slytherins#slytherin#my writing#RBATDS
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Lost in the Lights Ch.10|Brittana
A/N - Am I heartbroken about that embarrassment of a game I had to witness last week? Yes. Do I wanna talk about it? God, no LOL. Hopefully the McKinley Titans do a better job in the playoffs! Might even mess around and make QB!Britt’s Game Day playlist 🤷🏽♀️
Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut
Santana stomps her way over to Quinn’s locker and slams it shut in one big huff. Quinn looks up from packing her duffle bag, annoyed confusion written all over her face.
“Problem, Lopez?”
Santana continues to grimace but looks hesitantly around the locker room, her brows furrowed and her shoulders stiff. Her chest feels tight with everything she’s been holding in and she swears she’s about to burst at the seams if she doesn’t say something soon.
The squad filtered out minutes before and Brittany’s still practicing on the field with the Titans, but she can never be too sure. Someone’s always listening it seems and she can’t be burned a second time.
“Hello?” Quinn waves her hand at Santana, “Is there a reason that you’re going around slamming lockers?”
Santana can hear the annoyance in her tone but her facial expression says differently when their eyes finally meet. For as long as they’ve known each other, all it takes is one look to realized something deeper is going on.
Quinn softens, “Shit. What happened?”
Santana shakes her head and lets out the tiniest whimper, “I’m fucking this up.”
Quinn catches Santana just as she stars to slide down the lockers in trembling mess. She pushes Santana to sit on the bench instead.
Hot tears start to stream down Santana’s cheeks like the floodgates have finally opened. She hasn’t let herself feel the brunt of everything yet, not until now. It’s a little relieving, but it’s not enough.
“What are you talking about?” Quinn asks.
“I’m fucking this up.”
Quinn lets out a sigh but keeps holding Santana up as she continues to sob. Instead of pressuring her to talk, Quinn just let’s the girl cry it out first.
\\
Once Santana has finally settled down some, Quinn hands her a couple tissues from the travel pack she keeps in her duffle. She eyes her wearily before trying to get an answer out of Santana again.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
Santana’s averts her gaze to the ground. Her jaw is set and her lips are sealed as she wipes the angry tears from her face.
The reluctance to talk has Quinn rolling her eyes.
“Don’t be stubborn. You’ve been in a bad mood all day then you go and do that,” Quinn gestures to her locker, “Just tell me. Is it about your dad? Is he giving you a hard time again?”
Santana shakes her head.
Quinn thinks, “Is this about JBI’s blog? Because I doubt anyone is believing a word he says after his whole tater tot conspiracy was a bust. He’s already lost a ton of followers, I think he’s just reaching now.”
“It’s not that.”
“Okay…then what is it?”
Santana lets out a deep sigh, “She just wanted to talk and I couldn’t even do that.”
“Brittany?” Quinn asks hesitantly.
Santana nods.
“What’d she want to talk about?”
Santana threads her fingers together and squeezes, “Us.”
Quinn looks confused, “And you couldn’t talk about that because…”
“Why do you think?” Santana grumbles, “Because I’m a goddamn coward, that’s why. She wanted to talk about us and what we were doing and I just – I couldn’t.”
Quinn sighs and starts to rub Santana’s back.
“I knew it was coming. She’s been wanting to talk for weeks now I think. I just – I did what I always do,” Santana admits, “I got in my head about it. I let that stupid little voice take over. I told her I didn’t feel the same way she did. I told her that I wasn’t looking for something serious.”
Quinn stays quiet as Santana continues to rant.
“I don’t know why the fuck I said that! I thought I was getting better at this. I thought I was making progress but I still ended up doing the same thing!” Santana adds, “I fucked this up and now she’s done with me, Q. I didn’t think she’d do it. I thought I’d have more time to figure everything out.”
“What’s there to figure out?” Quinn wonders.
“I don’t know,” Santana shrugs, “How to have a girlfriend when most of the student body here are assholes? How to have a relationship with someone that isn’t solely based on sex or how to boost my reputation? How to do any of this when my dad can barely look at me because I’m gay! How am I meant to be any good for her when I can barely look at myself sometimes? I’m ready and I’m not and that’s the worst fucking thing about this. I’m my own goddamn enemy.”
Quinn looks a little surprised by Santana’s honesty but she nods like she gets it.
Santana moves to hold her head in her hands. That might’ve been the first time she’s ever owned her sexuality so easily but she can’t even enjoy it right now.
“What do you want to do?” Quinn asks but Santana only shrugs again.
She’s been thinking about that all night and day, but there’s only one thing that keeps coming to mind and it isn’t really an answer. It’s more like a realization that’s probably been in the back of her mind for a long time now, maybe since the Homecoming dance.
She doesn’t know how it’ll help now. This isn’t some rom-com movie where all it takes is this grand gesture, a profession of her true feelings and all is right in the world. No, there’s real work to be done first and she hasn’t a clue where to start.
“I don’t want to lose her,” Santana replies softly.
“Well, fix it then?” Quinn suggests which earns her a disbelieving look, “What? You’re Santana Lopez, resident bad bitch of McKinley. You’re not supposed to be afraid of anything, yet here you are letting all of these fears push you around.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Santana, you literally just said – “
“I know what I said!” Santana snaps.
Quinn purses her lips but relaxes, “We’ve had this conversation so many times. When you don’t try, you let them win. You want that? You want these people to be the reason why you can’t go out on that field tomorrow night and kiss the girl that you love?”
Santana doesn’t even waver at the word, she just wonders how long Quinn’s known.
“No.”
“Well then…”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is.”
“Tell that to Kurt,” Santana huffs, “He gets a slushie facial on the regular. Remember that kid everyone thought he was dating? He was bullied so badly that he had to transfer schools! I can’t deal with that. If I get into one more fight, that’s it for me. Honestly, I don’t think I could handle going through the rest of this year dealing with that shit and I can’t drag her down with me. She’s so much better than this place and everyone in it.”
Quinn narrows her eyes, “Well for starters, Brittany put a stop to slushie facials. There hasn’t been an incident in months.”
“That you know of,” Santana replies, “The football team isn’t the only ones capable of throwing a slushie in my grill.”
“You act like you’re taking on the entire world by yourself,” Quinn argues, “You realize you don’t have to do that, right?”
Santana frowns, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re trying to protect her and that’s thoughtful and all, but did it ever occur to you that she doesn’t need it?” Quinn replies, “You keep putting yourself in this position, but you don’t have to be in it. You have more people than you know that are rooting for you. Lean on them because you don’t have to face these people alone.”
Santana laughs bitterly at that, “You and who else? My mom? You guys going to create a secret service to follow me around everywhere to make sure nothing happens to me?”
Quinn lets out a frustrated sigh, “Well what now then? You just going to let them dictate your life? Just like your dad?”
Santana’s jaw tightens at that. She knows Quinn struck that nerve on purpose and she both hates and loves her for that.
“You can’t compare yourself to Kurt,” Quinn adds, “What you’ve both gone through is different so you can’t use him as an excuse.”
“He doesn’t deserve the way people treat him,” Santana replies, “The way I’ve treated him.”
“And neither do you, but there will always be assholes wherever you go,” Quinn says, “The difference between you and him is that one of you isn’t going to let them win. One of you is still trying.”
Santana’s at a loss for words and they both fall into silence.
“You said you don’t want to lose her?” Quinn mentions a moment later, “Well it doesn’t look like that from where I’m standing.”
“I don’t want to lose her,” Santana reiterates.
“Then you should probably talk to her before you give her the wrong idea, genius.”
Santana shakes her head and lets out a bitter laugh, “You make it sound like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.”
“It is.”
“Says the girl that has practically dated Mike Chang for months yet refused to put a label on it until two weeks ago!”
Quinn purses her lips at Santana’s outburst, “We didn’t put a label on it because Mike’s parents didn’t want him dating during his Senior year. It had nothing to do with what we wanted, but that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about you and Brittany.”
Santana sucks in a breath to calm herself down. It’s like a quiet apology that only she and Quinn share after years of friendship. They just sit together for awhile in silence while Santana’s mind works through it all.
“I don’t do relationships, Q,” Santana admits softly.
“You have an excuse for everything,” Quinn laughs, “You don’t do them because you’ve been dating boys this whole time when you’re gay as hell.”
Santana smiles at that.
“Are you really considering stepping back in the closet just because you’re too afraid to go out of your comfort zone?” Quinn asks, “Because that’s the kind of message you’re sending.”
“I don’t know,” Santana huffs.
“Jesus,” Quinn groans as she goes to face Santana fully, “The answer is no. You’re not going to do that. You’re a fighter, Santana. I don’t know when you forgot that but you are.”
Santana sits a little straighter. She doesn’t know when she forgot either.
“We’ve been friends for so long and I’ve seen the difference in how you are with Brittany versus all the dumbass guys you’ve dated,” Quinn says, “It’s a good different and you deserve it. After all that bullshit you went through last year, you deserve to have someone too. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that before it gets through.”
Santana feels a different kind of loved, a kind that only longtime friends can share, as she takes in Quinn’s advice. There’s few people in her life that she can trust to give it to her straight and Quinn’s one of those people.
“You hear me, Lopez?” Quinn urges, “You deserve this and so help me God, if anyone tries to say anything to you or her I’ll – “
“Okay, okay,” Santana pauses her with a chuckle, “I get it.”
Quinn relaxes and gives her an encouraging smile, “Talk to her.”
“Tomorrow’s that big game or whatever,” Santana frowns, “I don’t want to be a distraction.”
“Then do it after?” Quinn suggests, “Whatever. The sooner the better though.”
\\
That night, Santana paces her room trying to screw her head on straight. It’s pep talk after pep talk, anything to ease the anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach. If she’s prepared well enough, then maybe it won’t be so scary to put her heart on the line like this?
At least, that’s what she’s trying to tell herself.
Tomorrow’s the final game of the Playoffs and she knows how important that is for Brittany, so she doesn’t want to cloud her concentration. She’ll keep to herself and leave Brittany be for now.
Santana decides that she’s going to approach Brittany after the game like Quinn suggested. Hopefully she’ll be in high spirits after a big win and Santana won’t have to compete with the blues of losing.
Who is Santana kidding? She knows that if anyone can take the Titans all the way, it’s Brittany.
\\\\\
As Brittany returns home after her morning run, she’s surprised to see her mom up and about in the kitchen. She takes out her headphones and kicks off her sneakers just in time to hear her mom call out to her.
“Morning kiddo!” Whitney calls out cheerfully. She’s wearing her polka dotted apron and there’s a spatula in one hand, a frying pan in the other.
“Morning,” Brittany smiles as she ventures in. Her stomach grumbles at the smell of bacon, “You’re up early.”
“Got the day off today,” Whitney tells her, “Thought you could use a real breakfast to start off the day. It’s an important one.”
Brittany smiles before going to grab a water. She was hoping the run would help clear her head since her thoughts have been running a muck since her conversation with Santana in the locker room. It helped a little, but the brunette still lingered in the back of Brittany’s mind.
Santana was a mystery to her. A beautiful, frustrating mystery.
“Everything alright?” Whitney asks with her brows furrowed.
Brittany continues to stare off in space, “Totally.”
“Then maybe you should shut the fridge,” Whitney teases, “You’re letting out all the cold.”
Brittany snaps out of it and realizes that she’s just been standing there with her bottle in hand. She tries to laugh it off and fills her mouth with water before turning to watch Whitney cook.
She’s cracking eggs into a mixing bowl with one hand now, Brittany always thought that was so cool, but Whitney still looks at her skeptically.
“You nervous about the game today?” She asks.
Brittany has to think. She’s always a little nervous before a game, but those are good nerves and she’s use to those. The feeling inside her now though isn’t something she’s familiar with. She kind of feels suspended, still stuck in this limbo with Santana even though they’ve talked.
If you can even call it that.
Maybe that’s what it is? Nothing feels resolved, none of her questions have been answered. If anything, there’s even more of them! It’s not a good mindset going into the final game of the playoffs. She’s been trying to tell herself that all night, but it hasn’t seemed to work.
She’s hurt and a little disappointed by how everything turned out. She hasn’t liked someone so much before and it’s been so long since she has gotten attached to anyone. It’s hard having to be around Santana now; what is she supposed to do with all the little things she has learned about her? It seems wrong to throw them away, but she doesn’t know what the point is in keeping them.
She’s not gonna need them anyway at this rate, but that also makes her wonder. Was that it for them? A whirlwind two weeks then this? Is that all they are meant to be?
Call it crazy optimism but as much as Brittany wants to throw her hands up and call it quits, she can’t. She’s never been a quitter and this thing that pulls her and Santana together is too strong to ignore. She could barely go a day without speaking to her, let alone the rest of her time in Lima. Maybe she should try again, but that also opens her up to getting hurt a second time.
When she sees Whitney look up at her from the corner of her eye, she realizes she hasn’t answered yet.
“My head’s just full of other things right now,” Brittany admits as she plays with the latch on her water bottle, “It’s hard to concentrate.”
Whitney quirks her brow at that, “What’s going on?”
Brittany only shrugs.
“Boy drama?”
Brittany shakes her head.
“Girl drama?”
Brittany hesitates before shaking her head, “I don’t really want to talk about it yet.”
“Okay,” Whitney nods, “You aren’t in any trouble, right?”
Brittany smiles at that, “No, mom, I’m not in any trouble.”
“I’m just checking,” Whitney chuckles as she cracks the last egg into the bowl. She pauses for a moment before looking to Brittany, “Well kiddo, focus on one thing at a time. You don’t have to go solving all your problems at once, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I know I don’t need to tell you that,” Whitney adds, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, but everyone needs a little reminder every now and then. Whatever it is, it’ll work out.”
Brittany feels a tiny spark of hope within her and nods, “One thing at a time.”
“Exactly,” Whitney winks, “Now go shower. Check on your brother too, these eggs won’t take long.”
\\
Brittany decides one thing at a time means winning this game before anything else. Football is what she’s good at, it’s where she thrives and now is as good of a time as any to get back to that.
Being apart of the Titans and getting them this far was her first commitment when she came to McKinley and it’s only right that she sees it through.
\\
It’s the last day before Thanksgiving break so a lot the students – and even some of the faculty – have already checked out. With it being a half day, classes are also on a shortened schedule on top of the Pep Rally at the end of the day. Most people are super excited for the game later; everyone’s decked out in their McKinley High spirit gear and the Titans walk around in their home jerseys.
Everyone offers Brittany and the Titans their luck too – everyone except for the Hockey Team. They just stare bitterly from the outskirts of the crowd where they will always stay if they continue to keep a losing record.
Brittany doesn’t pay any attention to them. She just attends her classes as normal and tries to avoid running into Santana for a second day. Thankfully, she has done a pretty good job of doing just that. She doesn’t even look her way in the cafeteria during lunch although she knows Santana’s there. Like always, she can feel her eyes on her but she doesn’t give in – not this time.
It’s always a different story when she gets to her last class of the day.
\\
Ms. Holliday greets Brittany with a knowing smile as the quarterback enters the classroom. The English teacher is dressed in jeans and a McKinley Titans spirit shirt with her hair tied up with a frilly red and white scrunchie.
“Exciting day,” Ms. Holliday says.
Brittany nods, “Definitely.”
“You’re gonna crush it,” She replies with a pat on Brittany’s shoulder before handing her a worksheet.
Brittany heads to her usual seat, a little thankful that Santana isn’t there yet. She’s been anticipating this moment all day, wondering if it’ll be different than the day before.
Yesterday, they didn’t speak. They didn’t even look at each other. They just sat in a long uncomfortable silence until the bell rang and they both could get the hell out of there as fast as they could.
But Brittany feels different about today and she doesn’t know why.
She knows she should be focusing on the game ahead, but she won’t lie and say it’s easy to go another day without talking to Santana. She’s been the best part of her day for awhile now, it feels off to be without her – especially on Game Day.
Brittany shifts into gear as she sees Santana enter the room from the corner of her eye. She looks up and watches the Co-Captain near their table; her books are hugged to her chest but her eyes stay glued to the floor. It’s the same as yesterday and it has Brittany feeling a little deflated.
But it doesn’t last for long.
“Hi,” Santana whispers as she starts to get settled.
Brittany’s eyes widen and she’s so surprised by the unexpected greeting that she almost forgets to return it.
“Hey.”
“How are you today?”
Brittany tilts her head and smiles even though Santana misses it, “Good. Nervous, but good.”
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about,” Santana tells her like it’s fact, “You’ll be great.”
Brittany softens, “Thanks.”
Santana continues to busy herself with getting her materials out while Brittany patiently waits to see if something more will happen, but nothing does.
It’s another class of sitting in silence, but it feels different this time. It’s not as heavy as it felt yesterday and Brittany’s grateful for that. Really, Brittany just feels a little relieved as she watches Santana get dismissed early for the Pep Rally.
“I’ll see you later,” Santana says and it’s another surprise, “Good luck if I don’t.”
Brittany only smiles, “Thanks.”
\\
The Pep Rally comes and goes and now it’s just a countdown until showtime. Brittany does everything she normally would in preparation for a game and even heads to the locker room early to get ready.
It’s different without Santana there, but it’s for the best.
The Titans need her all because this kind of game is about all or nothing. With a loss, that’s it for them. Their season’s over and for a lot of Seniors on the team, this is it. This is potentially the last game they ever play in their high school career and Brittany can’t have that on her conscience if she doesn’t give it her all.
She gets dressed to the sounds of her Game Day playlist which never fails to get her in the mood to kick some ass. With having the whole locker room to herself, it’s easy to get lost in the music as she continues to get ready. She makes sure she grabs her lucky towel and tucks it into the waistband of her pants before sliding on her left glove.
All that’s left now is a bit of eye black and her helmet before she’s ready to go.
\\
When she and the Titans take to the field for the first time, the feeling is like no other. The crowd is a sea of red and white and it’s the loudest it has ever been. The team rips through the banner and pulses with unwavering determination.
They’re hungry for a win and they’ll take down anyone in their path.
Brittany can feel the roar of the spectators in her chest and pumps her fist in the air as she admires the packed stands. It’s one of the coldest nights so far in November but she feels warm beneath the stadium lights. She knows it won’t last long though and keeps her hands tucked in her handwarmer pouch as she makes her way to the Titans sidelines.
It’s kind of inevitable that she sees Santana and the Cheerios there too.
They’re facing the crowd and waving their pompoms as they call out cheers to get the crowd even more pumped. Santana and Quinn are front and center and Brittany can’t help but steal a glance in the brunette’s direction. It’s only a quick one – enough to catch the brilliant smile she wears – before players interrupt her view.
“Pierce!” Coach Beiste calls out, “Coin Toss.”
Brittany nods and jogs out onto the field with Mike and Matt to meet the referee and the Team Captain from Crawford County Day along with their two elected players. They shake hands and introduce themselves first before the Ref goes over their usual speech about sportsmanship.
Everyone agrees to do their part in keeping the game fair before the Ref asks the visiting team whether they want heads or tails.
“Heads,” The Team Captain calls out.
The Ref tosses the coin in the air.
Everyone watches it spin several times before it lands to the turf. They look to the ground and the Ref bends to call out the outcome.
“Tails!” He says before gesturing to the Titans, “Titans it is your call.”
“Defer,” Brittany replies, trying to keep the smirk from showing. Winning the toss is kind of like a good omen, but she’s not counting her lucky ducks just yet.
The Ref nods and announces the Titans’ decision before the players leave the field.
Crawford County Day’s special teams comes out and the Titans’ special teams does the same. Brittany hangs back by Coach Beiste as they watch Kurt kick the ball away, signaling the official start of the game.
They hadn’t played Crawford County since the early weeks of the season, back when Brittany was still working on her relationship with the team. It was a rough start back then, but the Titans were able to secure a win in the end. They’re in a much better place than they were so Brittany’s excited to see what this game offers.
\\
Crawford County ends up being an even better competitor than Brittany thought.
It seems like the Titans weren’t the only ones working on their rhythm and communication since their last matchup. The Titans trail Crawford County by two touchdowns. It’s like every time they score, Brittany and the Titans aren’t that far behind with one of their own.
However, the Titans were shut down in their last drive and came up without any points.
It’s an offense-led game, but Brittany doesn’t like the idea of playing catch up all night. Not when there’s a Championship Game on the line. She wants to get into a better position going into the half because she knows they’ll be getting the ball afterwards. By then, she hopes it’ll be a blow out once again but she can only judge it one play at a time.
\\
There’s still 6 minutes left in the first half which is a lot of time depending on what you can do with it, especially when you’ve got the ball – and right now, the Titans don’t. If Crawford County was smart, they’d waste as much time as possible so the Titans won’t have much to work with by the time they receive the ball again.
Judging by the current situation, Brittany thinks that’s exactly what they’re going to do.
“Shit,” Brittany mutters as she waits anxiously on the sidelines. She can faintly hear the Cheerios cheering and it makes her want to look over. She’s been doing well so far, why mess that up now?
Brittany doesn’t have a reason. She just looks over instead like it’s second nature.
And like always, Santana’s already looking back at her.
It’s cliché to say, but she steals Brittany’s breath away. She’s waving her pompoms and going through the motions, but her pretty brown eyes never leave Brittany’s.
There’s a hint of a smile on Santana’s lips, it’s barely there but Brittany knows it all too well. She knows all kinds of Santana’s smiles but this is the one she doesn’t see very often. The last time she saw it was the Homecoming bonfire. She can’t remember what they were talking about, but she definitely remembers the way Santana looked at her that night.
It has Brittany smiling back and for a moment it feels like it’s just them on the field. It makes her happy just as much as it makes her sad, because they could’ve been so great together.
“Damnit!” Coach Beiste curses when Crawford County gets another first down.
It jolts Brittany out of her staring contest with Santana and forces her head back into the game.
They need a miracle because at this rate, the Titans are going to be down by three coming out of the half. That’s not the worst scenario possible, but Brittany doesn’t need them getting ahead anymore than they already are.
She watches the ball get snapped and the opposing team’s QB drops back. He searches for a target and launches the ball downfield, but something miraculous happens – a Titan defender catches it.
The crowd goes crazy and the sidelines are even rowdier as Matt takes off with the intercepted ball. He zips through the other players until he’s ultimately dragged down by their quarterback of all people. They’re in great field position now and Brittany can’t be any happier.
“Do something with this, Pierce,” Coach Beiste tells her with a hard pat on her back.
“Yes Coach,” Brittany replies before tugging on her helmet and getting back out there.
\\
The Titans are able to score once more before the half is called thanks to Matt’s interception. They leave the field in high spirits despite still being behind on the scoreboard by a single touchdown.
Well, most of the team is in high spirits.
“I don’t know why we can’t run the ball more!” Karofsky complains, “Lady Lips can’t catch for sh–“
“Hey!” Sam snaps.
“What?” Karofsky flinches at him, “It’s true.”
“It’s not.”
“You’re right,” Karofsky frowns as he turns to Brittany, “I thought you said you were taking us to the Championship?”
“You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink,” Brittany replies coolly.
“Did you just call me a damn horse?”
Brittany shakes her head, “I’m saying this is a team effort. I can only do so much. It helps no one by tearing each other down.”
“Your head is in the clouds and we can all see it,” Azimio says.
Brittany’s stunned, “What?”
“You’re distracted,” Karofsky answers, “You’ve been like that for awhile.”
“Shit, I would be too if I was hooking up with Lopez on the low,” Azimio mutters beneath his breath.
That puts Brittany over the edge and she’s rounding on him before she realizes it.
“You don’t know anything!” Brittany shoves at him so hard that he nearly falls off the bench. The amount of strength behind the shove shocks everyone because Azimio isn’t a small guy.
“Yo! Chill out!” Azimio pushes her away.
“Talk about her one more time,” Brittany shoves at his hands as Mike starts to pull her back, “I dare you. Talk about her one more time.”
“He was just talking shit,” Karofsky defends with a smirk, “But looks like he might be on to something.”
“That’s enough,” Coach Beiste says before looking warily at Brittany, “Easy, Pierce. Whatever that is, deal with it later.”
Brittany regains her composure while Azimio and Karofsky do the same.
“I give everything to this team,” Brittany states, “I put in extra time on the field. I show up early, I’m the last one to leave. Who else here takes that kind of initiative? I can’t do everything!”
Karofsky waves her off but that just makes Sam even more annoyed.
“You’re such an ass,” Sam tells him, “You’ve been holding up this team’s progress since Britt got here. Who knows if you really want to win this thing.”
“What are you yapping about now, Evans?” Karofsky rolls his eyes.
“You don’t put in the work!” Sam says, “Britt would’ve thrown at least three TD passes by now if she had more time in the pocket but you’re so crap at blocking!”
“What?” Karofsky scoffs, “Let’s count how many times she’s been sacked this game. Oh wait, you can’t because she hasn’t!”
“That’s not because of you!” Sam replies, “She’s slippery, she gets out on her own no thanks to you.”
“What about knockdowns?” Kurt asks, “There’s been a few of those.”
Sam nods, “Yeah, that too!”
“Maybe you just need to be faster?” Azimio cuts in, “All that Bieber hair is probably weighing you down.”
Brittany lets out a sigh as they all start to argue. One thing she hates about being on a team full of guys, their arguments are usually ridiculous and pointless.
“That’s stupid,” Sam grumbles as he fixes his shaggy hair, “Britt needs better protection from both of you. We can’t get downfield because you – “
“We’re doing our job!” Karofsky yells.
“Bullshit,” Puck grumbles, “We have to rely on the passing game because neither of you can create a gap in their D. I’ve been getting snuffed out all night!”
“That’s definitely not on me,” Azimio brushes off, “You couldn’t get yardage if you were the only one on the damn field!”
“The hell you say to me?” Puck snaps and lunges at Azimio.
“Hey!” Coach Beiste booms, “How about focusing on your own roles, huh? If anyone’s going to call out what’s going wrong with this team right now, it’s me. I’m the one coaching this team, not you so cut it out.”
Everyone quiets down but Karofsky continues to stew in his annoyance. It’s nothing new to Brittany, as soon as they’re down – no matter the amount they’re behind – Karofsky and Azimio never fail to complain. Instead of taking ownership, they point the finger at anyone else in the room and Brittany hates that.
“I don’t want to hear anymore of you blaming one another. Each and every one of you are responsible for the outcome of this game,” Coach says, “No one is above or below anyone. You share this load so you better be doing your part. If one of you fails, everyone does. You hear me?”
“Yes Coach,” The team says in unison.
“We might be behind right now, but we’re gaining on them,” Beiste says, “This team is in much better shape and they’re getting worn out. Keep at it and we’ll come out of this on top. You all know what to do, you’ve proved it time and time again. Stay focused. Just keep going, keep putting that pressure on them.”
Brittany inhales a calming breath. She’s done a good job of staying calm and cool under the pressure, she’s done a good job of not telling Azimio and Karofsky’s crap get to her, she can’t stop now. They’re so close to a victory, she can taste it.
Coach Beiste eyes everyone, her gaze steely with her fists resting on her hips. She looks larger than life in front of them, “This is your moment, Titans, take it!”
\\
The Titans take to the field once more after halftime and Brittany remains optimistic about their situation. They’ll be starting the second half by receiving the ball, so it’s the perfect opportunity to tie things up. She tries to forget about the arguing and Karofsky and Azimio’s claims about Santana and get her head back in the game.
\\
The Titans end up on thin ice after their opening drive of the third quarter is a bust.
Brittany was really banking on it to tie the score but Crawford County’s pass rush is too intense. She’s starting to see her O-Line getting worn down despite everyone thinking it would be Crawford County whose fatigue would start to show by now.
It’s been scoreless on both sides as the game clock continues to eat up the third quarter. The Titans are still a TD away from tying things up and Brittany really wants that to happen before they enter the fourth quarter.
They need a big play to get a new set of downs but like Puck said in the half, he’s been getting shut down all night. The first down is only a couple yards away and a running play would be perfect but it might as well be a mile against the re-energized defense.
They need something Crawford County wouldn’t expect, something sneaky.
So in the huddle, Brittany calls the play despite Coach’s detest. It was all or nothing, and this would be just enough to get momentum going again. They need a spark, something that would breathe life back into this team after the morale has been slowly chipped away.
This was the only way she knew how to do that.
“Peek-a-boo,” Brittany says and looks everyone in the eye to make sure they’re with her.
Her teammates look surprised but they nod.
“Alright,” Brittany nodded resolutely, “Titans on three. One…two…three!”
“Titans!” They yelled out in unison with a clap before getting back to the line of scrimmage.
Her heart was racing but this is exactly what she loves about the game. It’s all about the adrenaline and making every play count. She can do this.
Puck gets into position beside Brittany as she readies herself for the snap. Her eyes stay searching the defense for any movement, always scanning.
“Down…hut,” She says lowly. She watches her inflection and thanks her lucky stars that no one on her O-Line flinches, “Down…hut.”
Again, her O-Line are statues. She was hoping she could draw an offsides from the opposing team, but they don’t move either. She stomps her left foot and Puck changes positions, “Down…HUT!”
The ball is snapped perfectly and she quickly fakes the handoff to Puck before he charges to the left. Brittany watches the mob of players move along with him before she’s tucking the ball and taking off in the opposite direction. She just needs a few yards to get the first down and she runs like hell towards it.
She can see in her peripheral that Crawford County’s safety and corner have started to gain on her. Her feet move faster and she jolts her arm out in a stiff arm that connects with one of the players.
The corner tumbles to the ground but there’s still one more Brittany has to worry about. The safety wraps gives her a hard shove but she outstretches the ball in hopes that she can still land the first down before she falls out of bounds.
Brittany hits the turf hard and the ball pops out but she can hear the Ref’s whistle blowing. She glances up in time to see him signal the first down and suddenly her shoulder doesn’t hurt all that bad.
She hops up from the ground as her teammates rush her, but even in the swarm of red and white jerseys Brittany finds herself glancing to the sidelines where Santana looks visibly relieved. Her pompoms are clutched to her chest but when she sees that Brittany is okay, Santana narrows her eyes almost as if to say don’t do that again.
Even if things are weird between them right now, it’s still nice to know Santana worries about her. Brittany smirks though at the chastising look and mouths an apologetic, “I’m sorry.”
But Brittany isn’t, not really. The smile she wears after making an incredible play can probably be seen from space, but they’re not done yet.
“Hell yeah!” Puck shouts excitedly as he slaps Brittany’s on the helmet, “That was so awesome!”
“Let’s do something with this,” Brittany says as determined as ever before getting her team back to their new line of scrimmage. She calls the next play but she wants to keep this momentum going and calls out, “Hurry! Hurry!”
Mike and Sam are set up with Matt on the opposite side. Puck’s next to her again to offer extra coverage as the ball is snapped. She drops back and searches for an open receiver but the linebackers are quickly closing in. The more time she sits in the pocket, the bigger chance she has of someone on her team getting penalized for holding. She has to act now!
Suddenly Matt gets open and Brittany fires the ball into his open hands. It’s like a laser beam but he makes the catch and brings it into his chest before getting tackled to the turf. It was a nice grab for a good chunk of yardage, another first down.
“Let’s go!” Mike cheers as everyone gets back into position.
The clock continues to tick away but they’re in way better field position now, Brittany has to make something of it. The endzone is right there, if she can’t get a strike she’s going to be really disappointed in herself.
In the huddle, she calls a play that’s well-practiced amongst the receivers but the challenge is whether or not her receivers can put enough distance between them and their defenders. A pass like this could be easily picked off and if it does, that’ll be a big blow to the Titans’ morale.
“Down…” Brittany calls out as she readies for the snap, “Down, HUT!”
Similar to the play before, her receivers take off but instead of running up field they make quick slants in different directions. Brittany looks for the most promising target and fires towards them. This time it’s Mike and he leaps into the air to make the catch. The ball continues to stay secured in his arms as he drops back to the turf and heads for the endzone.
Brittany watches it all happen in slow motion. One step, two step, three step, SCORE!
The stands erupt in applause while the team celebrates. Brittany rushes down to join them and for the first time all quarter, she feels like she can recognize her team again. They head to their sidelines as the special team is brought out for the extra point.
While everyone watches and waits to see what Kurt can do, Brittany’s glancing to Santana again. At first, she’s looking at the kicking team too but then she turns to Brittany almost as if she could feel her watching.
Santana quirks her brow and tilts her head toward the field but Brittany keeps staring. Maybe that hit earlier has knocked a couple screw loose but Brittany can’t find it in her to look away. She’s been depriving herself for the past two days now and in this moment, while she’s surrounded by her teammates and she’s meant to be tuned into the game, she just wants to look at Santana.
And she knows she shouldn’t want to go over there and kiss her either, but she can’t help what her heart wants.
The crowd cheering again after Kurt’s kick is good is the only thing that breaks Brittany’s concentration. The Titans have now tied with Crawford County and there’s still a whole quarter left in the game. Everyone looks revived and Brittany has such a good feeling about what’s coming next once they get the ball back.
\\
Halfway through the fourth quarter, the Titans lead by a field goal and they’re already closing in on another TD but again Crawford County’s D isn’t letting that happen so easily. They’re on third down and short but Karofsky’s already started up with his bullshit again after another pass was batted to the ground.
“I knew you’d choke,” Karofsky scolds after Brittany calls a timeout, “What the hell was that?”
Brittany shakes her head but continues to keep her cool, “It looked like they got the jump on you. Maybe you need to keep a better eye on your man.”
“I had my eye on him!”
Puck laughs, “I bet you did.”
Karofsky shoves at him and Puck shoves back. Matt quickly gets in between them and pushes them apart.
“You’re blowing this for us,” Karofsky claims as he glares at Brittany, “You were just all talk! Now that you’re here, you’re choking.”
Brittany frowns. She knows he’s just taking out his frustrations on her because she’s the leader of this team, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. She doesn’t usually believe a thing he says, but the more he runs his mouth the less she starts to believe in herself.
Is she blowing this for them? Should she be doing more? What more could she possibly do?
“How about you take some ownership?” Brittany says instead, “As soon as something doesn’t go our way, it’s my fault. Well, what about you? What are you doing to make this team work? What’s your contribution?”
“This is bullshit,” Karofsky growls as he takes a step closer to her.
Brittany doesn’t waver, “Yeah. It is.”
She just keeps her chin held high and her fists tight by her sides. She could go off right about now, unleash all the pent up feelings she has about him and his shitty attitude and the comments he’s made about Santana.
She could do it, but she won’t. For the sake of this team and for Santana, she won’t. She’s better than him and she can’t stoop to his level no matter how bad she wants to.
“It’s not her fault you’re outmatched,” Sam replies as he pushes Karofsky back to his side of the huddle.
“I’m getting tired of you always defending in her!” Azimio snaps.
“We’re a team, that’s what we do! We have each other’s back.”
Karofsky just shakes his head before Brittany takes back the huddle. She calls her next play and tries to rally a bit of support but she can see her O-Line is tired and it doesn’t help that Karofsky keeps making things negative.
“Let’s just focus here,” Brittany tells them, “One thing at a time.”
So Brittany and most of the Titans do just that.
It’s one play at a time, one touchdown, one win. That’s all they need to do to come out of this on top.
Brittany sets up another play action and has Puck get into position next to her. The ball is snapped and she fakes it to Puck but #87 for Crawford County is in her face in an instant. It happens a lot quicker than it usually does so she has to scramble. She tries to duck and dodge him while looking for someone to offload the ball, but then she’s blindsided by #99 coming in from the opposite side.
She’s hit hard once again and drops to the ground with two defenders wrapped around her. Miraculously, Brittany was able to hang onto the ball during that sack but she’s slow to get up.
Actually, she’s slow to even move.
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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 8 (Dabi X Geten Slowburn)
Previous Chapters: 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
“Hey.” Dabi slammed the door behind him. Apocrypha didn’t turn around.
“You have 10 seconds to leave my room.” Was her soft greeting. It wasn’t a growl nor a hiss, more of a polite threat, and that signified something Dabi couldn’t pinpoint.
Dabi bit back a retort. If he hadn’t just talked with Dabi, he would have shot back with, “Or?” He leaned against the door. “Look, since we’re commanding this squad as equals,” He said, resisting a snort on the last word, “can we put a pause on this?”
“I don’t believe in ceasefires. They only lead to betrayal.”
“I’m telling you, I’m not going to. Even if I wanted to, Shigaraki wouldn’t let me.”
“Really?” She replied with sardonicism. “You mean to say your leader would favour me, an enemy-turned-ally, over you, one of his allies from before the merger?”
Ugh, when you put it like that...Dabi pulled his face with a groan. “He’s our –” He forced out the next word sourly. “Leader now.”
“Hm.” She turned around. “I find that hard to believe.”
“He’s still in the council room, if you need proof. Go ask him yourself.” Dabi jerked a thumb at the door.
“I don’t want anything to do with your leader.”
Dear god. Dabi closed his eyes and took a breath. “Fine, all I came here is to tell you that I’m going to be looking through our squad. I have their information here. Would you like to join me or keep staring at the window?”
“Do it here then. And you only need to tell me their Meta Abilities. I will know them.”
“If you say so. I’m gonna sit down.”
Receiving no reply, he muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.” Plopping himself down on the sofa, he took out the papers in his pockets and read out, feeling quite stupid, but at least she wasn’t trying to impale him.
“There’s only three we need to care about. The rest are cannon fodder. First up, some guy with a quirk called Ethershark.”
“Charioteer,” Geten responded immediately. He’s decent, but he’s useless if his husk is attacked while he’s activating his quirk. Otherwise, he’s ideal for causing chaos and providing a distraction.”
“Uh huh…” Dabi scanned the information on him. “So he summons a ghost shark and his body can’t move.” He whistled. “Sounds cool.”
He heard Geten scoff, drawing his attention. She still was staring out the window. “Do you judge the efficacy of meta abilities based on how flashy they are? That’s a poor criteria.”
“Lighten up, will you?” Dabi said, a flicker of anger passing over his expression. “Anyway, the second guy’s quirk is Gasoline.”
Geten made a noise — a noise so foreign and unnatural Dabi’s head shot up in alarm. It took him a brief moment, a click in his head, to realise that she was laughing.
“Him? He’s one of the strongest ones in our squad?” She said, guffawing, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle it, to little effect. “The standards have really fallen, haven’t they?”
“It synergizes with my quirk very well. Maybe that’s why Shigaraki put him under me.” Dabi said the last sentence more to himself. Damn, he actually planned this decently.
“I hope so,” She snorted, and it amazed Dabi that for once, she wasn’t the target of her disdain and hatred. “Otherwise, all he can do is make people slip, or if he actually managed to use one of his lit matches. Either way, I could easily defeat him.”
“I’m sure you could,” Dabi humoured.
“Stop with your sarcasm. It’s infuriating,” Geten shot with that emotionless voice of hers.
“Stop with your hypocrisy. It’s infuriating,” Dabi replied, met with silence. Shit, is she going to –
“Whatever.” Was her dismissal. Dabi blinked. Is she really like this now?
Then it hit him. Their fight. She thought she had lost. She thought he had fire left in him. She had no idea he had been equally powerless then. That means...hmm...
“Anyway,” He continued, trying to keep his voice passive as a smile crept over his face. “The last guy, his is called Beatdown.”
“What?”
“What, what?”
“What’s his quirk?” She sounded bewildered.
“Beatdown. He has enhanced stamina and muscle strength. His nerves become more resistant to damage as he becomes more – Hey!” Dabi said indignantly as his paper was snatched from Geten, who scanned through it with wild eyes.
“Is he one of yours? Another criminal?” She interrogated.
“No, he’s from your army. What’s the big deal?” Dabi leaned back on the sofa, annoyed. “Not like you guys aren’t always trying to hook new people in.”
“This man. I don’t know him. I should. I know everyone.”
“What? All hundred thousand of you guys?”
“Only the strong ones. It narrows the list by quite a bit. And this man, whoever he is, his ability is strong. I would have noticed it. Someone’s been hiding him, and...maybe more.” Geten ended the sentence mumbling to herself, her eyes gradually unfocusing. She dropped the paper onto his lap, heading towards the door.
“Should I ask where you’re going?” Dabi said.
“No.”
The door slams behind her, leaving Dabi alone in her room. He frowned, picking up the information sheet on the Beatdown guy.
“Why’s she freaking out about that guy? Jeez…” Dabi studied his quirk for a while before deciding that it was an admittedly powerful quirk.
He looked around the empty hotel room. Geten had been holed up here since the night after their victory over the Liberation Army, and while it was tidied up slightly, it was still messy. Her bed was a mattress on the floor, and Dabi thought about the room he had in Re-destro’s mansion. It was filthy with wealth, but if he got to exploit it, he wasn’t complaining. He wondered why Geten still stayed here.
He stood up, surveying the room. He saw what looked like a notebook on the desk and snatched it. Flipping through the pages yellowed from age, he saw the first few pages filled with handwriting exercises. Messy scrawls that slowly straightened out into neat repetitive words meant for practices. Then, it was someone’s journal. Hers? Possibly.
He sat down on the chair next to the desk and began to read.
4/2/01 Thursday
Very tired. I spent the whole day training. I can separate an ice cube into two now. The Grand Commander said he wanted me to be able to split one into five by the end of the week. Hope I can do it.
7/2/01 Sunday
I disappointed the Grand Commander. He did that thing again. It hurts, but he told me he would stop once I could split an ice cube into 5 pieces. I can’t disappoint him again. I’ll make him proud.
I tried to put some ice on the bruises and make them stay as cold as possible. Maybe this is also part of my training.
Dabi slammed the journal on the table with shaking hands, and then slowly backed away.
I’ll make you proud, father. I’ll make ice, and fire.
“Fuck,” He murmured. He repeated that word to himself over and over again as he left the room. Why’d you read it? Bad idea, very bad idea.
He scrambled to the bathroom. He plunged his hands into the sink and began to wash them. He wasn’t sure what he was scrubbing off. He gasped as the familiar pain latched onto his arms and bit. It was milder than usual, but it still hurt.
Looking into the mirror once more, he saw more than himself now. He saw Touya Todoroki as a boy, a boy emboldened with a purpose to be the strongest Todoroki. At the same time, he saw a poor girl forced to do Re-destro’s bidding, till she...Dear god.
This sick, twisted army.
Dabi hated them now more than ever.
–––––
Btw, I’ve been cross-posting these to other sites, and they’re technically edited versions although I haven’t been actually doing that. But the edited versions are there, sort of. Every chapter here is the first draft.
My Ao3, Wattpad and FF.net are all under the same username: CompletelyAnonymous.
Story-wise, I really hope I didn’t make this reveal too early. Might regret this decision later on, but it’s a scene I’ve been wanting to write for a while because it’s a turning point in how Dabi views Geten. Also, uh, I’m no good at writing child abuse and it’s a touchy subject. Very sorry to those who take offense if the portrayal is not proper, and I’ll be willing to do the necessary further research and revisions.
#bnha#mha#bnha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#mha fanfiction#mha fanfic#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#dabi#geten#dabiten#dabi x geten#geten x dabi#bnha geten#mha geten#bnha dabi#mha dabi#ATDS
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Doppelgänger 11/15
Chapter 11: Echoes
Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; none
Rating: T
Word Count: 7,958
Summary: It was like looking into a mirror. What happens when one’s reflection talks back and throws uncomfortable questions? El Search Party struggles to find entrance into the Demon Realm, but Dominator has a plan.
Alternative Title: Dominator fucked up and now everyone meets their alternative selves
AO3 Link / FF.NET Link
— [Chapter 01] [Chapter 02] [Chapter 03] [Chapter 04] [Chapter 05] [Chapter 06] [Chapter 07] [Chapter 08] [Chapter 09] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] —
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Class Notes:
Canon Path: Knight Emperor, Aether Sage, Daybreaker, Rage Hearts, Code: Esencia, Comet Crusader, Apsara, Empire Sword, Doom Bringer, Ishtar and Chevalier (Innocent), Bluhen
Alternative Path: Rune Slayer, Oz Sorcerer, Anemos, Furious Blade, Code: Ultimate, Fatal Phantom, Devi, Flame Lord, Dominator, Timoria and Abysser (Catastrophe), Richter
----------------------------
Oz Sorcerer
Dusk bordered at the horizon when Oz returned to camp. Dozens of tents rose in a mass of colors and arranged into smaller circles with a smaller campfire for each group. Oz saw tents of the close-ranged fighters placed closer to the edge of their resting site, the ones ready for combat to the sound of intruders. Those that relied more on magic or needed more time to prepare like Rune and Dominator placed their tents more inward from the edge of the area they resided in.
“Hey, ‘cuse me,” a male voice grunted. “Sorry, come through.”
The smell of blood and dirt filled the air. Knight was hauling a wild boar that was easily twice his size. Blood was dripping down the carcass and onto Knight’s armor. His great sword was tucked into a scabbard strapped to his back, grating against the gravel as he dragged the ridiculous sized animal over his shoulder. A quiet gasp escaped from a lower tree branch whipping into his vicinity and swapped the young man.
“Need help?” Oz leaned forward, “I can barely see your face from here.”
“Yes,” Knight groaned under the weight of the boar. How could someone so short carry a monster of that size? She was impressed.
With the help of Angkor (“I’m not here to do grunt work!” He huffed.), she helped him carry the dead animal across camp. It took all of Oz’s effort now to lower the boar over a pile of dried leaves. They placed the boar next to a campfire. She watched its beady eyes staring back at her, dead and fish-eyed in death.
She didn’t know the Demon Realm had animals.
Then again, Angkor didn’t really tell her much about the realm that demons called home. Oz looked up to see the moons nestled among the clouds. Angkor and Timoria spoke of their old allies and enemies, but their narrative of the Demon Realm varied. She guessed that it was as big and diverse as Elrios was. It took her weeks to journey from Sander all the way to Ruben in search of the Ring of Mimir, so maybe it would take weeks to reach the other end of the Demon Realm?
“What are you doing?” Oz observed Knight taking out a dagger from his belt. Angkor scurried off in bat form when Knight started skinning the animal with precision.
“Prepping for dinner,” Knight said. He let out a nervous chuckle. “Do you want to help?”
“Sure,” Oz placed her staff on her belt to make her hands free. “What do we do first?”
“Uh, right.” Knight looked happy? He moved aside to patted the ground to gesture at her into joining him, nodding his head, “I want you to grab a bucket or any containers you have. We’ll be draining its blood to make pig blood curd for soups and congee in the morning. Once we finish, we’ll be carving the meat and use half of it to make dried jerky for battle rations. I already cleaned it out before I started skinning it.”
“These? Do you make everyone you talk to do this?” Oz asked. Placing the bowls aside, she sat on the floor next to Knight. “What happened to your friends?”
“Most of them are still resting after the fights,” Knight chuckled. “And you looked like you weren’t busy. What’s so funny?”
He stopped to give her a strange look. What? Was Knight already detecting her sad attempt to keep a poker face during his long lecture? He glanced over Oz before making note of Angkor, who was back to his bat form. Angkor settled on her lap as a bat and giggled when Oz tried to move it. Did Angkor gain weight? Oz placed her hand over her chest and pretended to blush.
“See something you like?” She teased.
“I’m surprised you’re helping me after some of my friends tried to hurt you,” Knight was not fazed.
“This wouldn’t be the first time our enemies became our allies,” Oz mused. “Rune asked me to do the same when we first met.”
“Oh… sorry about that.” He was embarrassed.
“What are you apologizing for? It’s always good to have a refresher!” Oz exclaimed, “Your hands were full and you looked like you needed help.”
Knight looked relieved and nodded to himself. It was subtle, but a distinct smile. The kind Rune had when he learned a new technique to manipulate his runes. He was taller than Rune, towering over her with sleeves rolled back while working. His hair was a short neat cut, matching his eyes and the rest of his armor.
After they extracted blood from the boar, they let it sit in one of the metal bowls to solidify. They would then slide the curd into smaller pieces to be salted and heated in a pot. Knight handed her a dagger and they began dividing the meat into sections. Oz let the man take the lead and insert the sharp edge towards the spine, cleaning the meat off the bone in one swipe. Knight expertly placed the meat into a separate container for later use and hummed as he worked. For a moment, she caught serenity in his silence, taking pride in his hard work.
“Is it always you who does this?” Oz asked.
“Sometimes it’s Elesis or Raven,” Knight said. “The others have offered to help, but I’m doing it today. Are you okay with that?”
“You’re asking me now?” Oz let out a mellow laugh, “It’s gross, but you look so sad doing it by yourself.”
“I look sad?” Knight chuckled, “I’m used to doing it by myself. I had to do it when ‘sis was out of the picture.”
Stupid, Aisha! She scolded herself. Now she made him remember a lonely part of his life. Oz took deep breaths and counted backwards from ten. He didn’t even look upset about it and laughed.
“But thank you for offering to help,” Knight said. “Food will be ready sooner and we can focus on everyone recovering.”
“When was the last time you visited Ruben?” Oz asked.
“It’s been years,” he admitted. “Haven’t had much time to return with everything that’s been happening.”
“Do you miss home?”
“Sometimes,” Knight said. “But when I’m with my friends, it’s like I have a second home. You know what I mean? Don’t laugh, but I hope I can one day show them Ruben when things are peaceful again.”
“No, that sounds like a wonderful dream,” Oz softened her expression and thought about the people she grew up with. She wondered if her teammates felt the same.
Oz started setting the seasoned meats onto a dry metal tablet to be smoked when she heard Angkor squeak. She looked up to Aether stomping over to her. Dressed in a white skirt accented by purple, Aether wielded a staff and looked short out of breath. Did all of Knight’s friends wear white?
“Aisha?” Knight didn’t notice the dark aura radiating from the sulking mage.
“Elsword,” Aether stopped to catch her breath. The twin cowlicks sprouting from her roots drooped as she rested her hands over her knees before bringing her head up. Her face was flustered, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Helping Ciel prep for dinner. Oz is helping me.” Knight said and looked at her with pleading eyes. Did he just give Aether puppy eyes? He and Rune were cut from the same cloth. “Did Bluhen heal your arm?”
“No one else can heal besides him, my arm is fine.” Aether huffed. “Did you just kill that boar by yourself? You should be resting. You’ve gone missing for two days!”
“I’m not hurt!” Knight stood up for Aether to see. “Not a single cut! Ain healed most of my injuries!”
“You can’t rely on him all the time for heals,” Aether glared. “I just talked to him and he said you should be resting. I bet you didn’t tell Ciel that, did you?”
“I… no.” He said in a small voice.
If looks could kill, Knight would have died twice fold from the intense looks the mage was sending to him. Oz held back her laughter as Aether scrutinized the red-haired man. Aether threw a side-eyed look to Oz as if debating if it was the dark mage’s fault for letting Knight do things by himself.
“I helped him before no one else was,” Oz said before Aether could open her mouth. “We were almost done before you came here.”
Glancing at the smoked meats and the pork blood curd finished steaming in the heated pot, Aether didn’t argue. She turned pink, embarrassed and offered an apology to both of them. Oz overheard Angkor chattering to her and hushed him to be quiet.
“Do I look that awful?” Knight asked.
“You look like a zombie,” Aether said.
“Really? I was thinking more like a sad phoru.” Oz pointed to the bags under Knight’s eyes. Knight tilted his head to the side in confusion.
“Go wash your hands and rest until dinner is ready,” Aether groaned before gesturing to Oz. “I’ll help her finish up the rest of what you already started.”
“All right,” Knight walked past Aether. “Sorry for making you worry.”
Oz wished he would stop taking blame for things in a feeble attempt to soothe anger from either side. It was grating on her nerves and didn’t suit him at all. It made her miss the slight flare of arrogance Rune had when thinking he found the perfect ratio of hot pepper flakes to apply to pork jerky, or when he set the entire demon army on fire.
“Hey, worrying is our job.” Aether stopped him, “That’s what we’re here for.”
Knight laughed.
There was silence between the two women when he left. Aether finished slicing the meat into thin pieces. Her slices were sloppier than Knight’s but cut close to the bone of the boar and marinated the meat in a metal bowl. Oz rotated the smoked meat for the other side to be cooked and checked on the pork blood curd. Their campsite smelled of smoked and seasoned meats.
“So you do have a demon,” Aether looked at Angkor with the same fascination as one would with deadly forest fungi.
“Have?” Oz rolled her eyes, “He’s not a pet. More like a contract.”
It was hard to believe Angkor was a demon god for the number of times he wouldn’t stop chattering demon gossip to her or demanding for more cookies. Oz wondered if looking like a child brought in the childish tendencies in the demon bat. His powers on the other hand were worth discussing and helped her in battles countless times.
“How did that happen?” Aether asked.
“Well, I was practicing dark magic when Angkor approached me.” Oz said, “He saw talent in me and offered a deal to me.”
“And the clothes?”
“That’s what you’re worried about the most?” Oz said, “I don’t mind. Maybe more ruffles than I wanted, but the gain in power was what mattered.”
“You didn’t find the Ring of Mimir either?”
“No,” Oz shook her head. The blood curd was done. She drained water from the pot and transferred them over to a container for storage. “Are you still looking for it?”
“Yes,” Aether closed her eyes. “We were so close to catching the culprit. He ran off before I had the chance to get it back.”
“Do you think it will return your powers?”
“I don’t know, maybe? I relearned the fundamentals of elemental magic, but there’s still more to be learned.” Aether said, “Hennon doesn’t have rights over that ring grandfather worked hard to uncover.”
Oz tried to remember a time when she believed in having the ring restore her powers. After no leads to it, she turned to dark magic because she didn’t want to relearn something she had already lost. The Hennon of her world also had the Ring of Mimir, but that was the least of their concerns when there was an urgent matter of restoring the El.
“So what’s with you and Elsword?” Aether asked. “I saw you two talking.”
“Still obsessing over that boy?” Oz teased.
“What?” Aether paused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You keep looking at him.” Oz teased. “It’s like I’m not even here.”
Aether sat still, frozen in time, and forgot that she had a knife in her hand. The knife remained suspended in a fist hold grip, losing its use in her hands. Her eyes widened, shocked by the statement and Oz’s impatience. Talking to Aether was coming into contact with a reflection of herself when she was eighteen years old, infatuated and hopeful in catching the attention of a red-haired boy.
“It looked like you two were having fun,” Aether turned pink. “You two share nothing in common, but you made it look easy to talk to him about anything.”
“I just let him talk about things he’s interested in,” Oz shrugged. “Didn’t you travel with him for five years?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure if I know him as well as I thought I did.” She confessed, “When he went missing, I mistook Rune for him. It was so obvious. I feel like an idiot.”
“They’re pretty similar,” Oz said. “Both of them act like idiots, won’t stop talking about meat, insist they’re used to doing things alone...”
“That’s the thing!” Aether threw her arms in the air, “He always does all these things by himself, acting like everything is his fault. It’s so frustrating! How many times do we need to tell him we don’t mind?”
“I think that’s why Knight hides things,” Oz leaned back. “He probably didn’t want to make you all worry, even if it’s a stupid idea and you all care about him either way.”
Oz collected the remnants of the skinned and deboned animal. The bones were saved to be used as a base for soups and broths. She was impressed by Knight’s work ethic that expanded even outside of his training. Left to live by himself at a young age, Knight must have learned to never let food be wasted. He and Rune were masters in hunting and finishing chores, but worked twice as hard in training.
“I wonder if I scared him away, yelling at him like that.” Aether thought aloud. “I can’t stand seeing him get hurt again.”
“You still like him,” Oz commented.
“Don’t you?” Aether asked.
“Maybe not in the same sense as you do,” Oz said. “We tried to connect a few times but decided it wasn’t working for us. He’s now with Chung.”
“What?”
Aether dropped the metal container with the blood curd. Luckily, it was sealed shut. Oz retrieved the container from the mage with a kind expression.
“Elsword and Chung are dating,” Oz said. “Or Rune and Phantom if you’re keeping track of nicknames.”
“No wonder they kept looking at each other,” she overheard Aether mutter to herself. “Does that mean our Elsword and Chung are…”
“I don’t know,” Oz said. “Not everything is set in stone. Your timeline is already different than ours, so I wouldn’t give up yet. Knight might like Crusader, you, a random village girl, or even Add.”
“Ha!” Aether snorted. “Unlikely.”
Oz grinned. She liked her.
“Let’s deliver these to Ciel and Abysser.” Aether started collecting the containers, one under each arm. “They said they were going to cook something tonight.”
Would this be enough to feed all of them? After washing her hands, Oz joined in helping her, taking the containers that were left to bring over to their teammates. She couldn’t imagine how Knight could have completed this task on his own. The next time she saw Rune attempting to do the same, she’ll have to make sure she or someone else would help him.
“It’s always a pleasure talking to myself,” Oz tipped her hat and feigned a formal bow.
“You’re ridiculous,” Aether rolled her eyes but softened his expression. “I think it’ll be easier to talk to Elsword now that I understand him a little better.”
“I think you already do,” Oz said. “You’re already thinking like him and helping people.”
“Is that a compliment I hear?” Aether’s grin mirrored hers, “Don’t expect less from the great Aisha!”
“Do you talk like that to everyone?”
“...shut up.”
Oz snickered.
----------------------------
Apsara
“And then Elesis set the pole on fire,” Anemos said.
“A pole?” Apsara repeated.
“She got her tongue stuck on one and tried to free himself by setting it on fire,” the elf explained. “The city wasn’t happy and we had to pay for the damage. Luckily, we had enough from the major mission in Hamel.”
W-wait, that didn’t sound good! Apsara panicked as Anemos let out a noble woman’s laugh. It was good that they had enough money to pay for the damage cost, but was it okay to cause a fire in the middle of a city?
“B-but, Flame was okay, right?” Apsara stuttered.
“Oh, she was perfectly fine,” Anemos added. “Can’t say the same about the rest of the city. That was rough.”
“There’s more?” Apsara squeaked.
“Trouble always seems to follow your team, it seems.” Daybreaker chuckled. “It sounds like your friends ran into a lot of strange adventures and close calls.”
Apsara nodded in agreement. She gripped her cup, running her thumbs over the edge and watching the tea steam rise and fall. It was her own personal tea set from what was left over of her ruined home in Fluone's Northern Empire. Bamboo and cranes were painted in dark green onto the cups. The tea kettle was decorated in a similar theme with a giant crane spreading its wings in bamboo bedding. It was a gift from her late mother before she passed away.
Anemos was just as she imagined the other Rena to be. Kind, funny, always ready to share stories of her travels and offering great advice, although Anemos had a more playful side. A smirk grew at the edge of Anemos’ lips, sipping from her cup of tea.
“I can say the same to your team,” Anemos said. “Unconventionally breaking into the Demon Realm and angering Dark Elves sounds like a rough trip.”
“We were lucky that Rena was here to talk it out and help us work together,” Apsara beamed. “Without her, we might still be enemies!”
“It’s a good thing we understood each other,” Daybreaker said. “I didn’t think we would meet Dark Elves so soon.”
“What are they like?” Anemos asked.
Both of them are correct, Eun yawned. Luck has saved you and your friends many times. How much longer will it carry you until it runs out?
Apsara shivered at the meaning behind Eun’s words. The nine-tailed fox was not one for talk and preferred being a spectator from the safety of her mind, but occasionally left a piece of wisdom for her to think on.
Eun was right. They were lucky that she accidentally fell into the labyrinth of ruin that connected Elrios to the Demon Realm. According to Daybreaker, the language the Dark Elves spoke was closer to the Ancient Elven tongue, a skill not many elves possessed. After struggling to rescue Knight from the El, things were beginning to line up for them. However, as lucky as they were, there were just as many misfortunes that fell on them and stalled time for the enemy to get away. It was something Apsara couldn’t forgive. They had to do more than fall on lady luck to seek justice for the lives of those impacted by the enemy.
“Apsara?” Anemos broke through the martial artist’s train of thought. She had a gentle expression, “Was the medicine too strong? You look out of it.”
“I’m fine,” Apsara rubbed her forehead. It still hurt where she fell on her face. She was going to let it heal naturally. It was barely a scratch worth using healing magic. “Hey, Anemos? How do you plan to return back to Elrianode?”
“Tired of us already?” Anemos teased, placing her finger over her lips. “With the teleportation device broken, we won’t be going home until it gets repaired. Why do you ask? Was your trip a one-way trip?”
“I’m afraid it was,” Daybreaker said. “We were planning to find an alternate way to get back once we found the Dark El.”
“Your team didn’t look good when we fought you,” Anemos commented. “Was a demon giving you trouble?”
“Nephilim Lord,” Apsara said. “It looked like the one in Velder, but bigger. You saw one before, right? It warned us about a fiery aura.”
The one they fought was several times the size, asbestos white and covered in bright rainbow-colored armor-like scales. It had horns protruding from its body and had no need to move to efficiently burn through their defense. The most powerful of all Nephilim, it was sentient and lost control of itself until it was taken down by the El Search Party.
Anemos frowned and bit her lip in deep thought, mumbling to herself in Elven. At the mention of Nephilim Lord, the gears in the elf’s mind began to turn. Her eyes were calculating and darted up to where the sky was. Apsara looked up to see where the older woman was looking.
Cloud swirled collectively around the portals appearing and closing, deviating from one another. Apsara became dizzy looking at them and returned her eyes to Anemos, whose complexion remained serious.
“Was Nehphilim Lord the cause of this?” Anemos asked.
“I don’t think so,” Daybreaker shook her head. “It’s been like this since Paradox fought with us. He seems to have control over those portals.”
“Maybe we can use those portals to go back to Elrianode!” Apsara exclaimed.
“Assuming we can control them ourselves,” Anemos sighed. “Unless you know anything about time and space.”
Apsara felt her cheeks turn warm and pouted. Was it unrealistic in trying to secure a way back to Elrios? She already felt guilty leaving behind the world she and her friends worked hard to protect. On the other hand, the Dark Elves were relying on them to sort out the unstable spike of energy coming from the shadows of Varnimyr, a place where even Eun was uncertain about their safety. Ever since they have arrived at the Demon Realm, they have dug their feet into the dark with little guidance of where to go. It was worrying not knowing if there was a way back.
“I’m not even sure if one of those portals even works,” Daybreaker said. “We don’t know what’s on the other side. What if we end up in another world like you and your friends did?”
Apsara stared into the dense forest surrounding the cavern area. She didn’t even think about the possibility of coming out on one end of a portal into a world that bore little resemblance to Elrios or the Demon Realm. They would have to start all over again from scratch and adjust to a world with new laws and boundaries like they did when they first arrived in the Demon Realm.
It would be difficult to find a way back to Elrionode, Eun said. There is little else that can be done without taking a risk.
“We haven’t had the best luck in making things go according to plan,” Anemos added. “We still need to find the Dark El first before returning. Those portals will still be here when we find it.”
“Finding the Dark El won’t be easy, but I believe we’ll find it soon.” Apsara finally said. “We have even more people now to make it work. We’ll all be coming home soon.”
“How touching,” a new voice drawled. Devi emerged from the shadows, letting the flame light flicker across her amber eyes. She looked down at Apsara’s smaller form. “I never thought of myself as a wide-eyed optimist.”
Apsara turned around to see a round face covered by dark black locks. The long ripples from the ends of her dress made Devi appear taller and thinner. Next to Apsara, she was covered in black and orange, resembling a dark butterfly spreading its wings in her dress billowing in the gentle breeze. Devi smiled, but her eyes held an unsteady gaze.
Careful, Ara. Urgency rose in Eun’s voice, She’s dangerous.
“A-ara! I mean me! Devi, I mean, uh, what do you prefer being called?” Apsara cried and lowered her head in a ninety-degree bow, “I didn’t see you there, did you need something? Of course, you did, that’s why you’re here. Are you mad at us for hurting your friends? I’m so sorry. You must be furious with us, please forgive us. I-”
“You talk too much,” Devi silenced Apsara with a single motion of a raised hand. “I barely caught any of that. Are you a mouse? I hear a lot of squeaking.”
“A mouse?” Apsara felt dizzy. She lifted her head, moving her hands behind her head in a daze. “You mean the animal?”
“You’re scaring her,” Anemos chided.
“I’m not scared!” Apsara protested. “She caught me by surprise, that’s all! ”
“Am I not allowed to join tea with you ladies?” Devi poured a cup for herself and nestled herself between Devi and Anemos. Like Apsara, she drank her tea from a cup carefully held between her delicate fingers. She ignored the milk and sugar provided for Anemos and Daybreaker, who were less accustomed to drinking tea without them.
“Careful, it’s still hot-” Apsara stopped when Devi chugged the rest of the tea and blew hot air from her mouth. How scary, she thought.
“Your tea is all right,” Devi said. “Needs more herbs.”
Apsara stopped breathing. Her head was still spinning from processing that they were the same person. The way Devi carried herself was something only Apsara could dream of when she let Eun take over. She couldn’t sense Eun’s presence being the dominant one from her alternate, so the confidence was all Devi.
Devi and the rest of the alternate El Search Party reminded her of the old folk tales she had read as a child. Doppelgangers from another world that bore resemblance to the people she knew. The doppelgangers in the stories were often demons or evil spirits in disguise, but Devi and the others were neither of them.
“We’re running low on tea,” Apsara said.
“You were talking about the Dark El,” Devi narrowed her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder to scan their surroundings before lowering her voice, “I don’t think I need to explain what it is or why it’s important. Where is it?”
“We don’t know,” Daybreaker said. “We’re still searching for it like you. We’re only a few weeks ahead of you.”
Devi cursed.
“But since you’re here, we can look for it together!” Apsara said. “Nephilim Lord said it would offer us information about it if we search for the source of aura that’s been unstabilizing its home.”
“It’s our best shot at the moment,” Anemos agreed. “With this many people, we’ll find the source of the aura in no time.”
“You don’t think you’re being used to take care of someone else’s problem?” Devi looked at Apsara with skepticism. “Your girlfriend told me it tried to kill you.”
It was true that Nephillim Lord tried to kill the El Search Party, but it wasn’t the first time an enemy was restrained under mind control or agitation. How much did Empire tell Devi about their circumstances?
“We’re doing this because we want to punish those that tried to take advantage of the people living here,” Apsara said. “I won’t stand for that.”
“Nephillim Lord was influenced by the aura,” Daybreaker explained. “We made a promise to help it out. The Dark Elves revere it as a god and protector. We’re not leaving until everything is back to normal.”
“They have a better lead than we do,” Anemos placed her hands over her lap. She kept her voice low. “This may be our only chance.”
Devi folded her arms back and grasped the handle of her spear. Still smiling, it was unnerving to see red flash through Devi’s eyes before returning back to amber. It took Apsara a moment to remember that Devi must have Eun too. Those two must be close for Devi to maintain the same facial expression even when Eun had its brief moment of existence.
“For the monster’s sake, I hope it understands the consequences if it doesn’t follow through with its promise.” Devi mused.
“Elesis told me you used different martial arts,” Aspara ignored the dark comment. “What are they?”
“Is that what’s on your mind?” Devi rose a brow. “They’re secret arts from a book that specializes in dark energy. I’m curious about you as well. We’ll have to find out in a spar.”
“Another time,” Anemos said. “There might be more fighting if we’re going to find the source of the aura.”
“We thought the source of the aura was you and your friends,” Daybreaker admitted to Anemos. “But that wasn’t it. The aura is not from you, but somewhere else. We might be struggling to find it because it’s still dormant.”
That meant they had more time to prepare for another battle, right? Apsara pulled the kettle to pour herself another cup of tea. Blowing the fumes away, she sipped as she gripped on her spear with her free hand. It was unclear what the source of the aura was, but she could feel its presence hovering over the region, a dull uncomfortable weight over her shoulders. It was going to get worse if it awakened. Their friends were still recovering from the last battle and they needed to regroup with a new plan.
“Elesis mentioned your name when I talked to her,” Apsara looked at Devi, who was already on her third cup of tea. “What did you do to her?”
Empire gave her a wide-eyed look when Apsara asked about her alternate. Her complexion was the same color as her hair before Apsara took her girlfriend’s hand and offered to change the topic.
“Hm?” Devi giggled when Apsara gave her a questioning look, “Oh, I may have provoked her into fighting me, called her princess, and now she’s angry at me.”
“You need to go back and apologize to her!” Apsara shook Devi by the shoulders and cried when the other woman cackled. “Devi! That’s not funny!”
“They’re so lively,” Anemos commented.
“With two of them, I’m sure they were going to be.” Daybreaker chuckled.
“Are you happy with your progress?”
Huh? Devi’s question was one that haunted Apsara, an anxious voice whispering into her ear in the darkest of nights, taunting her with doubt that fed off of her uncertainty. Apsara felt Eun tense, rising from her subconscious and voicing its opinion of her counterpart, none of them were kind or generous. She ignored the fox spirit and had a thoughtful expression.
Devi was terse, asking biting questions and offering brisk answers in return. Despite being squished in between Apsara and the two Renas, she never relaxed. Legs crossed with one hand kept close to her spear, Devi’s smile failed to reach the rest of her face.
“You keep following these people, nowhere close to your goal and walking in circles,” Devi said. “Are you satisfied?”
“I am,” Apsara examined the woman with sadness. She reached for Devi and placed one hand over her alternate’s forearm. “Why are you always sad?”
“I’m not sad,” Devi forced a laugh.
She was lying.
“It doesn’t bother me that we keep getting sidetracked,” Apsara said with earnest. “I’m not even sure if we’re doing the right thing, but I want to help my friends stabilize the El because I know they would do the same if I needed help. Do you ever feel like that?”
“I do,” Devi said. For the first time, she relaxed and looked at Apsara with a pensive expression. “We’re lucky to have people like them.”
“I think they would be happy if we let them know that,” Apsara smiled. “Tell me about your friends.”
And Devi did.
----------------------------
Timoria
Smoke filled the campsite as Timoria hopped over to put out the fire with a pan lid. Hot air hissed from the top and she jolted back. Her tail curled up and her eyes grew wide, panicking and rushing to put the lid back on. Puffing air into her palms, Timoria shrieked when she bumped into Abysser from behind.
“Sorry!” Abysser put up her two hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you like that. I’m not sure what has gotten into you today, but I can take over now.”
“You said you felt light-headed,” Timoria accused him.
“I feel better, I promise!” Abysser laughed. “Not sure what the fuss is about.”
“You passed out from an explosion,” Timoria said.
“But I’m still alive and kicking,” he grinned. “You don’t need to sacrifice your time to cook for everyone.”
An overreaction? Perhaps, especially when her partner in crime was no longer human but now a fully fledged demon, but Abysser wasn’t replaceable. He was more than that, a chimera between a butler and a close friend. People have mistaken them to be related and it didn’t bother Timoria as much as she would have expected. Their bonds were no longer linked as a single unit, but she could tell when the dummy showed his teeth and cocked his head to the side in an attempt to reassure her that he was fine.
What was Abysser thinking getting up close to shield her from Bluhen? Humans called it heroic, but she called it foolish and impulsive. The man who called himself a priest was suppressing his energy to create an explosion that could have wiped out a demon army. There was nothing heroic about a nearly dying face planted into the dirt.
“You said someone taught you how to bake and cook,” Timoria said. “Why don't you teach me too? I’m ready to graduate from, ‘Lu, go pick some herbs.’, ‘Lu, can you set up the table?’, and ‘Lu, where’s the spoon?’.”
She made faces and lowered her pitch when she did her Abysser impersonation, pacing around the campsite.
“Do I really talk like that?” Abysser scratched his head but softened his expression. “I didn’t know you wanted to learn.”
“You make it sound like I never help,” Timoria pouted and tucked her arms under her long sleeves, feeling the pain crisscrossing into her bandaged fingers like pin needles. “Did I do a good job of cutting the vegetables?”
Who knew humans consumed so much of them. She didn’t realize how picky Abysser was in how he wanted things to be cut and presented. One would think he was about to serve a meal to the king of Velder.
“Never said you didn’t.” Abysser said, “I think it’s great you want to help. You did good for a first-timer.”
There he goes again, Timoria placed her hand over her hip. Making that face again, borderlining on smug in catching her showing consideration for others, brimming with the kind of pride she associated with parents to their children. Any outsider would have mistaken them to be related, but she never protested because she saw how happy it made Abysser. People still mistook her as a child, but she was getting taller, she was sure of it!
“Now we wait until it boils, right?” Timoria asked.
Abysser hummed and nodded his head for an affirmation.
Timoria hovered over with her wings out for a better view of the stew. She knew there was a lot of stirring involved, but she would leave that to Abysser. The last time she attempted, the campsite was nearly burned down and she didn’t trust herself to know when their meal would be ready.
She went back to the stream flowing at the edge of camp to wash her hands, carefully cleaning the dirt under her claws. The demon lord felt the cold water run between her claws and relished the familiarity of it. It wasn’t the dark quarters of her old realm, but she recognized the moons passing by when she returned to see a figure waiting for her.
Sitting at the edge of a fallen log was a demon adorned in white and royal blue. Pale locks cascaded past her thighs and touched the back of her heels. Cyan colored horns similar to Timoria's protruded from the side of Ishtar’s head. Bright eyes the color of starlight gazed past the horizon to meet Timoria’s.
“Do you always talk to him like that?” Ishtar asked.
“Who?” Timoria tried not to stare. It was blinding to look at her other self, ethereal under the moonlight and projecting the very image Timoria once wished to reclaim. “Ciel?”
“You look like you two were having fun,” she looked sad. Was Ishtar envious of them?
“I don’t expect him to do everything when he needs time to recover from a fight,” Timoria said. “Does he not let you help out?”
“He does, but insists he can do everything.” Ishtar rolled her eyes, “I don’t think Ciel knows what I can do.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Timoria said.
Chevalier was a quiet man. Exchanging a polite smile to Timoria, he waited for Ishtar to talk first before replying back with an equally amicable response. He maintained an air of dignity, but Timoria sensed a difference in his dynamic with Ishtar than her’s and Abysser’s. His hair was a light shade of blue, but it was clear that he was still partially human.
Ishtar and Chevalier’s relationship wasn’t one of malevolence if she was to believe Richter’s account and from her own observations. Timoria recalled how he and Ishtar fought back at the edge of the forest, perfectly synchronized on the same wavelength of El resonance. Bounded together by powerful magic that turned their souls into one, Ishtar relied on Chevalier as much as the butler did to her. It was not unlike the bond Timoria used to share with Abysser before they parted to become equals.
“I suppose you’re right,” Ishtar mumbled. “I sometimes wonder if it bothers him doing everything for me.”
“I think you would be the first to know.” Timoria thought about the time Abysser was depressed after being rejected by a phoru. She bit her lips, “but I think he would appreciate it if you showed him your thanks.”
Her counterpart rose, parting her lips and rounding them at the realization. Nodding her head, she accepted Timoria’s explanation and scrunched up her brows in deep thought. Much to her annoyance, Ishtar towered over her by almost a head. To outsiders, Timoria was a child while Ishtar had the appearance of an older teen or a young adult.
“What would make him happy?” Ishtar wondered out loud. “He likes phorus, but I’m not very good with them. I tried baking cookies for him once, but he choked on it and I guess humans don’t like too much red pepper paste-”
“You put what in cookies?” Timoria interrupted. She tried to imagine what those cookies looked like when they were finished and presented to the butler. Poor Chevalier...
“I wanted to make them red because he once said he liked that color,” Ishtar protested.
“I’m surprised he didn’t try to rescue them and make them edible,” Timoria said.
“He did,” she said. “I’m not sure how he did it, but it was delicious. Humans are more adaptive than we demons give them credit for.”
It suddenly made sense why Chevalier didn’t let Ishtar take up on cooking duty.
“Is this why he still treats me like a child?” Ishtar sighed. “I made him do extra work he didn’t have to do.”
“My Ciel treats me like a kid too,” Timoria said. “It’s annoying, but he once told me it was because I reminded him of someone he knew. Did yours ever tell you that?”
Ishtar shook her head.
“Aren’t you the one bounded to him?” Timoria asked.
“That doesn’t mean I make him share everything. He doesn’t like talking about the past,” Ishtar said. “It isn’t fair for me to ask Ciel to tell me everything about himself if I’m not ready to talk about myself. There are many things I regretted doing as Luciela. I’m afraid of what he would think of me if he knew half of it.”
A sad smile appeared on Ishtar’s features, her eyes wandered over to Chevalier, who was standing at the opposite side of the campsite and talking to his counterpart. Abysser laughed at something Chevalier said, occasionally stopping to skim bubbles from the stew.
“Does yours know what you did?” Ishtar asked, “What we did.”
Timoria felt her limbs growing limp, unable to even lift them up to do something with them. Her silence answered Ishtar’s question, unsurprised by the revelation. Ishtar sat beside Timoria and kept her legs tightly together, contemplating on how much to ask. Demons were aware of multiple dimensions existing, but to meet oneself was something not many experienced.
“Then both of us are cowards,” Ishtar laughed quietly to herself.
“How is that funny?” Timoria asked.
“You’re a little small to be a demon ruler,” Ishtar smirked. “I was wary about whether or not you and your friends were a trick set up by Henir cultists.”
“How rude!” Timoria exclaimed, “I want nothing to do with those boorish deviants! I don’t think it’s necessary for him to know about my past, but I do want to tell him eventually when we aren’t being chased by Henir cultists.”
“You have them too?” Ishtar asked.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Timoria said. “They made a fuss about the Dark El and now we have to go fetch it before they do.”
It has been days since Timoria last saw the creeps in black hoods, but that could be a bad sign if the cultists found more allies in demons that may see the El Search Party as a threat. To demon residents, they were foreign invaders from another world and Timoria was a traitor. It wouldn’t be the first time the Demon Realm witnessed a powerful leader backstabbing them. She didn’t like to think about what that meant if word started spreading around about the former demon ruler returning to the Demon Realm.
“How does it feel to be back home?” Ishtar asked.
“This is hardly home,” Timoria laid down on her back. “Haven’t had one since the attempted assassination. I don’t think Ciel and I can rest until we find a way to take back power over the realm that was stolen from me.”
“Your bonds feel different,” Ishtar noted. “What made you separate?”
“Ciel and I had an understanding,” Timoria said. “I didn’t want Ciel to feel like he was forced to follow me. We don’t need a contract to stay together and I saw him as my equal. It was his idea to abandon his human side.”
“As equals, huh?” Ishtar repeated her words. “I think I get it. When you were gone, Abysser wouldn’t stop talking about you. He kept saying your name, which is infuriating because it’s my name too!”
Timoria snorted, “That sounds like him.”
“But I can see you mean a lot to him,” Ishtar said. “You better be grateful you have him!”
“You’re one to talk!”
She couldn’t believe she was being lectured by herself. Timoria sat up to stretch her arms, going on her tiptoes and reaching for the skies. Dinner should be ready soon. She could smell the inviting aroma from the stew she helped Abysser with earlier. She overheard Abysser talking to Chevalier.
“Oh, so that’s how you do it.” Abysser rubbed his chin, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
The demon lord showed his teeth, slapping one arm over Chevalier’s shoulder and twirling about to reach over for the ladle to try the stew. His hand was slapped away by his counterpart and whined. Chevalier tasted the stew, glaring at the bubbling water before tossing in a garnish of green onion and a pinch of salt.
“I didn’t even know you existed until yesterday,” Chevalier said.
“Ouch, that’s cold.” Abysser feigned a hurt expression. “You don’t even have questions about me or Lu?”
“I do, but isn’t it rude to ask these types of questions when we just met?” Chevalier said, “I think it’s more appropriate to ask how it’s even possible for you to be here.”
“Blunt and to the point, I get it.” Abysser waved his hands, “I thought your Add would explain all of this to you.”
“He would, but ours passed out.” Chevalier said.
Fair enough.
It was hard to have an impression of someone they fought once and only stopped long enough to deliver provoking taunts and snarky comments. Staggering over with his back hunched and a crazed look; if it wasn’t for the mechanical eye and flying plates (“They’re called Dynamo!” Dominator protested.), Timoria would have mistaken Bringer as someone else.
“We jumped over here to find the Dark El by opening a portal with a device Add made,” Abysser explained. “You already know the rest.”
“You’re not an illusion or a manifestation of the El.” Chevalier said. There was a sharpness in Chevalier’s expression when he examined Abysser with a critical eye.
“From the Hall of El?” Abysser had a sly smile. “Yes, I was wondering the same about you and your friends too, but you are a chattier bunch and more fun to talk to.”
“Fun?” One could hear the blood vein threatening to burst from the side of Chevalier’s head.
“For one thing, you and your friends weren’t threatening to kill us or attempting to absorb us into the El.” Abysser didn’t seem to notice the irked brows from his counterpart and chuckled, “Isn’t that right, Lu?”
Timoria tried not to laugh when Chevalier was taken back when looking ahead, only to lower his gaze to finally notice her. His eyes averted over to Ishtar pulling out a set of silverware and utensils to set up the table, then back to Timoria, who was patiently waiting for the half-demon to talk. She could see the gears turning as Chevalier processed that there were two Lus.
Placing her hands over her hips and puffing out her chest, Timoria wore a grin identical to Abysser. This was going to be fun.
“I’m not sure what I should be more insulted by,” Timoria cackled. “Being compared to Henir cultists by Ishtar or being mistaken as a false illusion.”
“Our enemies are always a few steps ahead of us. This isn’t the first time we had to fight people with the same abilities as us,” Chevalier was defensive. “You’re the first to join our side.”
“Sounds a little like us, don’t you think?” Abysser asked.
“They are us,” Timoria pointed out.
“Not everything is the same,” Chevalier disagreed.
“It’s the hair, right?” Abysser asked eagerly as if he had been waiting for Chevalier to ask. He beamed, “Doesn’t it make me look cool?”
“No, you’re stupider.” Chevalier deadpanned.
Abysser dropped his smile and cried crocodile tears, “How could you say something so cruel to yourself? You hear that Ishtar? He doesn’t like himself!”
Timoria covered her face. Abysser really said that in front of Ishtar and Chevalier with no irony in his words. Placing the last bowl down, Ishtar turned to giggle when Abysser continued going on about how cold his alternate was. Chevalier ignored the rambling demon as he silently walked over to the side to chop more green onion for garnish.
“I like him,” Ishtar said. “He’s funny.”
Chevalier stared at Abysser and mumbled, “How are we the same person?”
----------------------------
Author Notes: There was a lot I wanted to get in, but cut out in the end because it wasn’t relevant to what I wanted to address in this chapter. It was challenging to write certain characters I never wrote before, but rewarding because I discovered them as a person in the process. Everyone’s comments were encouraging to read and helped me see that every character will be someone’s favorite. We still have a few characters left in terms of having them talk to their counterpart.
#eltag#elsword#mywriting#my writing#elsword fanfiction#doppelganger#Elboy (Elsword)#Aisha (Elsword)#Rena (Elsword)#Raven (Elsword)#Eve (Elsword)#chung (elsword#Ara (Elsword)#Elesis (Elsword)#Add (Elsword)#Lu (Elsword)#Ciel (Elsword)#Ain (Elsword)
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And if I fall
He was the last person she wanted to see right now. But then again, she had never missed him more.
crossposted on ao3 and ff.net
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Stuffy air and the smell of stale beer first greeted her when they entered the bar.
Locked arm in arm between her two friends and roommates, Astrid felt like a prisoner. Heather and Ruff probably thought she might bolt as soon as they let go of her, like a captured boar on its way to a forced fun night out. She wouldn’t admit it, but her friends were smart.
Sighing in her final defeat, she let herself be guided through the crowd. Usually, she would have dressed up, and looking at the crowd, she decided she was the most underdressed of all of them. Even the regulars sipping their usual whiskey at the bar wore fancier outfits than she did.
“I think I just saw a free table in that corner over there,” Ruff yelled over the noise of the music and the many voices. They changed their direction, weaving through the crowd, Astrid still locked in between them.
All at once, Heather stopped in her tracks, making the other girls stumble. Astrid glared at her and Ruffnut threw her a questioning look.
“Shit,” was all Heather said before she threw Ruffnut a look and made attempts to turn the three of them in the other direction, but only further received another glare and confused look. With her head, she pointed somewhere in front of them. Her friends followed her eyes and Ruff cursed.
Right there in front of them, only a few feet away, stood the very reason Ruff and Heather had seen it necessary to drag Astrid out of the apartment in the first place, sick of her moping around in sweatpants every night.
Astrid wanted to look away and ignore him, she really did. But her body seemed to have other plans. Rooted to the spot, she could do nothing but stare at him. At his tall, wiry frame and his unruly hair. Her fingers twitched at the memory of running them through the soft, thick strands. His freckled face was illuminated by the phone in his hand; the look in his eyes was concentrated as he looked up and let them wander over the crowd in search. When he found what or who he’d been looking for, he waved over their heads, a small smile lighting up his expression.
Astrid gulped. She was a strong, independent woman, for Thor’s sake! There was no need for her heart to beat that fast just because he was here. Her stomach shouldn’t simultaneously be full of flutters and twisted in knots, and her breath was not supposed to become that shallow when he suddenly came her way.
“Oh no, he’s coming over,” Heather whisper-shouted, and Astrid still couldn’t tear her eyes from him. She bit her lip and groaned inwardly. Get your shit together, Astrid! she yelled at herself. You’re a Hofferson, you don’t run around crying over a guy!
Ruffnut was studying her closely with rare concerned eyes. “Yeah, let’s bounce.”
But it was already too late. They didn’t even manage to turn around when he suddenly stood before them. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw her. Even in the artificial light of a second-rate bar on the edge of downtown Berk they were the greenest eyes she had ever seen.
For several seconds, neither of them said a word, until Ruff coughed awkwardly. “Hello, Haddock.”
Hiccup glanced at her shortly before looking back at Astrid and clearing his throat. “Hey.”
Astrid hated how her heart skipped a beat just by hearing his voice. “Hi,” she managed to say, her own voice sounding less weak than she had feared.
“How, how are you?” He put his hands in the pocket of his jacket, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Was that a miniscule tremble in her voice?! Astrid mentally punched herself. Don’t show weakness! “You?”
He needed a second to comprehend her question, an awkward reddish tinge covering his cheeks and ears. “I’m, yeah. Good. I mean.” No longer able to constrain his natural habit of gesticulating, his hands escaped his pockets and he waved them around in an attempt to sound and look casual. “I mean, I’m good. Thanks. You? No, wait, we already did you.”
Beside her, Ruffnut groaned. Heather made a face as if she had just taken a huge bite out of a lemon.
The awkward silence stretched for what felt like hours, maybe even a few eternities, in which Hiccup wouldn’t really meet her eyes, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Well,” Astrid finally said.
“Well,” he repeated.
“It was nice seeing you.”
“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’. For another eternal moment, nobody said anything, until Hiccup nodded one last time, gave them all an awkward wave and disappeared in the crowd.
As soon as he was gone, Astrid put her face in her hands and let out a long, frustrated groan. “That was a disaster!”
Ruffnut cackled. “You can say that again. You should have seen your faces, dude!”
Astrid lifted her head from its hideout in the palm of her hands and glared at her friend. “Thanks.”
Heather put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. “Do you want to leave? We can go to a different place.”
A stubborn flame flared up inside her. What, she should run away now? Just because her ex-boyfriend who she still had feelings for was in the same room as her? She could handle that; she was no pathetic little girl.
“No, we’re staying,�� she insisted, took a deep breath and headed for the next empty table. Her friends shared another concerned look, but then shrugged and followed her.
Astrid ordered herself a beer with the confidence of a woman who didn’t still feel all mushy inside from one interaction with Hiccup Haddock. Judging by the look on the bartender’s face, it came across as angry, but she supposed it was just as good that her ability to glare had not suffered from her failed relationship. The only thing she should probably change was the message she was sending with it.
One and a half beers later, her nerves had finally calmed down. She’d cleverly sat with her back to him, making it hard for her to keep glancing at him and ruining her plan to enjoy the night despite his presence. More relaxed now, she opened her jacket in the warm room. Which she regretted immediately.
“Are you fucking serious?!” Heather looked at her with an incredulous scowl.
“What?” Astrid followed Heather’s line of sight and found it directed at the t-shirt she was wearing underneath her jacket. Throwing her friend a challenging look back, she crossed her arms over her chest.
While Heather just shook her head disappointedly, Ruff caught on as well. “Dude, you’re still wearing that?! I told you to burn it!”
“And I told you that I won’t burn a perfectly good piece of clothing!” When her friends kept scolding her with their looks, she counted on her fingers, “He never came to take it back, it’s comfy, the color looks good on me, and it doesn’t even smell like him anymore so it’s neither creepy nor pathetic.”
“Throw it away.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Ruff!”
“Throw. It. Away. Or I will steal it and burn it in the sink so that whenever you’re in the kitchen, you’ll be reminded of your pitiful behavior. It will forever haunt you that you so pathetically whined after a guy.”
“Ruff is right,” Heather chimed in. “Not about the burning stuff in our sink thing, she can do that in her brother’s house. I mean that it’s not like you to be so hung up over a guy.”
Astrid stared at her hands on the table. “Believe me, I don’t want this, either. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me this time.”
“And I still don’t understand what went wrong,” Ruffnut said. “You guys were so disgustingly happy and then all of a sudden, you’re breaking up? What happened there? Did one of you cheat? Did you realize that his dick was too small?”
Astrid gave Ruff’s leg a hard kick under the table and ignored her cry of pain.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why, because I hit home with the dick thing?”
“Do you want me to kick you again?”
“You didn’t deny it.”
Astrid threw her hands up. “For fuck’s sake, Ruff, his dick was fine!” she yelled and several people turned their heads. She glared at all of them until they looked away.
“So you’re saying it was too big for your- ow!” Ruffnut bent down to massage her shin.
“You’re insufferable sometimes.” Astrid knew her friend would proudly show her the leg the next morning, rating the blues and greens on her own weird Scale for the Awesomeness of Injuries.
“If you don’t want to talk to us,” Heather brought the conversation back on track, “then you should at least talk to him. Get yourself some closure.”
Astrid frowned. “How would I know if he even wants to talk to me? You saw and heard that train wreck of a conversation earlier with your own eyes and ears.”
Heather sighed. “Because he keeps looking at you.”
Astrid couldn’t stop herself. As soon as the words had left Heather’s mouth, she turned around and immediately locked eyes with him. She knew it was impossible to see his vibrant green irises from this distance, but in that brief second before he realized she had caught him staring and quickly averted his face, she remembered the feeling of sinking into his eyes as if she was lying on the ground in the forest, gazing up at the tree tops in the midst of a sunny summer day. Oh, she was so screwed. The butterflies returned, immediately creating a frenzy and sending a pang through her chest.
She turned back around and murmured, as nonchalantly as possible, “Whatever.”
“At least consider it?” She knew that Heather wouldn’t drop this subject as long as Astrid didn’t give her a straight answer.
“Fine, I will.” Astrid rolled her eyes. She appreciated that her friends were concerned for her and took her feelings seriously, but she’d rather bury these emotions and never talk about them again.
Satisfied, Heather and Ruffnut finally changed the topic and Astrid inwardly sighed in relief. She sipped at her beer, listening to the other girls rating the creepiness of the people around them and concocting the best fake plans to ‘kill them’. She grinned despite her gloomy mood. Discussing which weapon to use in which situation and how to best smuggle it past any security was something she could get behind.
When there was only foam left in her bottle, she pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’mma head to the bathroom,” she announced.
“Want another one?” Ruff asked and pointed at her empty beer.
“Sure,” she shrugged and left the table.
The Astrid that stared back at her in the bathroom mirror while she washed her hands looked good. She didn’t have that layer of sadness in her eyes anymore that kept sneaking back in, no matter how hard she fought against it. She was an emotionally driven person, but that didn’t mean that she had any control over it, and that was the part that she hated.
The lines of exhaustion from the constant exercise she had used to distract her with had disappeared from her face; fresh laugh lines had taken their place. She felt fine.
Giving herself a last determined nod and a self-encouraging smile in the mirror, she wiped her hands on the paper towels and left the bathroom. When she emerged from the narrow hallway back into the main area of the bar, the first thing she heard was Ruff’s piercing laughter. Astrid followed the noise and found her friend standing with a group of people near the counter, flirtingly posing at the table they were gathered around. Heather was leaning against a different table close by, texting on her phone, showing zero interest in the people before her.
Astrid couldn’t help but notice it was the same table she had seen Hiccup at earlier, but his seat was vacated. An unwanted feeling of disappointment swept through her which she immediately pushed down.
She didn’t want to join these people. Chances were that he hadn’t left and would return any minute, and she didn’t want to awkwardly stand by while their friends were chumming it up. But she couldn’t return to their former table since it was already occupied by some strangers. It seemed like the only two options she had were to either go home or to submit to a very unpleasant situation with her ex she would rather avoid.
Sighing in frustration, she resolved to give herself another pep talk in the mirror of the tiny bathroom. But she didn’t even get that far. When she turned around, she bumped into another body just leaving the dimly lit hallway.
“Sorry,” she reflexively said, in unison with the other person. She locked eyes with a young man with auburn hair and a sharp jaw. Ah, crap.
“Oh hey, uh, Astrid. Hi, Astrid, hey. Hey, Astrid,” Hiccup stuttered, suddenly finding the wallpaper behind her extremely fascinating while he started rubbing his neck. Astrid hated how endearing she still thought his awkwardness was.
“Hey.” Maybe she could escape this encounter before it became even more unpleasant.
“I’m, um, gonna go now,” he said, pointing towards his friends.
“Okay.”
He hesitated for a couple of seconds before he shot her one last glance and slowly started to walk away. Astrid bit her lip as a sudden gut feeling made a decision for her.
“Hey, Hiccup?” she called after him. He turned around on the spot, and if she wasn’t so sure the dim light was affecting her vision, she would have thought his expression was almost hopeful.
“Yes?”
She could still abandon this ship, tell him it was nothing, or that she wished him a good life or some of that crap. But she wasn’t a Hofferson if she didn’t go through with this now.
“Why didn’t we work out?”
Confusion slowly spread over his features as his brain processed the question. “Uh, you did,” was what he finally said. “At least three times a week.”
Now it was Astrid’s turn to be confused, brain working unusually slowly in such proximity to Hiccup. The realization of the misunderstanding dawned on them at the same time.
“That was not what you meant.” A fierce blush crept over his face and his eyes widened in horror. He groaned in embarrassment and wiped his hands over his face, then through his hair. “Oh god, please kill me now. Take your axe and- and- uuh-”
She had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. Hiccup was usually so clever and witty, had a sarcastic remark to everything, always a few steps ahead of most people in the room. Work out.
Not able to hold herself together any longer, she burst into fits of giggles, starting anew every time she looked at him and the ridiculousness of the situation dawned on her once more. After a minute, she could see the corners of his mouth twitch and his shoulders shake from repressed laughter, until he joined in.
Wiping a few tears from her eyes, Astrid took a deep breath to calm down. It felt like the ice was breaking, the old comfortable easiness between them returning.
She pushed her bangs out of her face and met his eyes. “Seriously, though. What happened?”
Hiccup’s face went serious again, the twinkle in his eyes disappearing. He looked down and shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Really?”
He sighed. “I guess I just… I just realized that you weren’t in it as much as I was.”
“What do you mean?” she asked and scowled.
“I mean, well, I mean that- that- that I liked you more than you liked me.” When she heard that, Astrid’s stomach dropped. “I… I could see us going places, while you, you seemed like you didn’t want it to become that serious.” He finally met her eyes, and the hurt she saw in them hit her right in the chest.
“Excuse me,” a voice behind them startled them out of the moment, “I would very much like to go to the toilet.” A middle-aged man was impatiently tapping his foot at the entrance of the hallway, and Hiccup and Astrid realized they were blocking the way.
“Sorry,” Hiccup said and stepped aside to let the man through. “I think we’re done here, anyway.” He made attempts to walk away, but Astrid wouldn’t just let him go like that. Not before she had told him the truth. So she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway, past the doors to the bathrooms, until they reached the end where a fake plant in a vase with fading colors was collecting dust on a small table.
Clutching his hand in hers, she looked him dead in the eye. There was no backing out now.
“Astrid, what-”
“I have to tell you something.”
“O- okay…” She didn’t like the frown on his face. She wanted him to smile, wanted his eyes to brighten again. Didn’t want him to look at her like he could see the insecurity in her eyes, like he was concerned about her, or what she was possibly about to say.
Opening her mouth was the first step. She wanted to do this, wanted to tell him. Wanted him to know how she felt, even if she had to reveal a weakness. Because she had always felt safe with Hiccup, had always known that she could trust him. It had always been so easy to be herself around him. There was nothing she had to hide from him. He’d never laughed at her, never not taken her seriously. Which was one of the reasons she loved him so much. And she did. Because that’s what it all came down to, wasn’t it? The nights lying awake in the dark with that tight feeling in her chest? Missing him during every little mundane activity, even if it was a task such as cleaning the toilet? Setting back her entire progress of getting over him in the space of one minute of talking to him? There was something about him that kept drawing her back in, something that made him so different from everyone else, something indescribable but utterly Hiccup.
She stood up straight. Now, Astrid. “I was afraid.”
Several miniscule emotions rushed over his face and through his eyes, too fast for her to determine.
“Afraid? Of, of me?” He tried to pull his hand back, but she held onto it, and used her other to give him a punch on the arm.
“Not of you, you muttonhead!”
“Then what…?”
“I was afraid of committing to a serious relationship.” There. She said it. Unconsciously, she held her breath as she waited for his reaction.
“So… I was right.”
That was not what she’d expected to hear.
“Well… In a way…” She wanted to tell him! Then why was it so hard? Desperately searching for the right words, she didn’t realize she was tightening her grip on his hand until he shifted his fingers, or rather tried to. When she loosened her crushing clasp, she felt his thumb brush over her knuckles encouragingly. Adoration for him flooded her heart and the words just bubbled out of her.
“I’m not good at talking about my feelings. But I want you to know that I didn’t end it because I didn’t have feelings for you anymore. It was actually quite the opposite. All the relationships I’ve been in over the years had never lasted long and they’d never made me feel the things you did – and still do. So when I realized exactly how much you mean to me, I felt… vulnerable and… and exposed. And when you started acting more distant – which I now know is my own undoing – I was afraid. Because if I went all in, I’d just end up getting hurt. So I ran.” Her frown deepened. “Yes, that’s true. I, Astrid Hofferson, ran from something because I was afraid.”
He was just gaping at her. Was he waiting for her to say more? Did he need time to process what she had just told him? Didn’t he know what to say? The silence made her feel even more exposed, naked in front of him. But finally talking about this took something heavy off her chest, something she hadn’t even known had been making it hard for her to breath.
“I guess I’m so afraid of completely opening up to someone because of my parents. They were so happy when I was a kid, I’d always wanted what they had. But then they got divorced, and I saw what it did to them. I never wanted to get hurt like that. And then I met you and you were so different, you managed to break through my defenses and…” She took a deep breath and plucked up all her courage. Now or never. “And I fell in love with you,” she let out in a rush, not brave enough to articulate everything properly, but enough to look him in the eyes afterwards.
What she saw made her toes tingle and her stomach flutter. There was no judgement, no resentment, no anger. He was gazing at her with deep affection, a soft fondness evident in his smile as he regarded her.
“I know I should have told you this sooner,” she continued, “but-”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted her. “I could have talked to you, too. You’re not the only one who was afraid of rejection and getting hurt.”
She exhaled the tension from her chest and shook her head. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we.” When she smiled back at him, she noticed he was blushing and couldn’t help feeling lighter at the sight.
He took her other hand in his and stepped closer until she could count the freckles on his nose and under his eyes. “Are you still afraid?” he asked in a low voice. Her breath hitched, he was so close, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from dropping to his lips every few seconds.
“I want to say that I’m not, but…” She trailed off, averting her face. What if, one day, he realized his feelings for her had disappeared? What if she did, no matter how unlikely it seemed to her at the moment? But then again, what would she lose if she didn’t take this step now? It was so unlike her to hesitate, to not face the fight head-on. And what was she even fighting here?
Hiccup gently cupped her cheek and guided her face back to him. “If it helps, I’ll be afraid with you.” And in that moment, she knew. Knew that she wanted to do this with him, knew that, no matter what, she could rely on him, could lean on him. She couldn’t imagine a scenario in which she didn’t let go of her security blanket, even if it meant she could get hurt in the process. So she took the plunge.
She closed the gap between them and, after weeks of hurting and missing and pining and dreaming, pressed her lips on his with vigor. He stumbled a step back but caught himself and kissed her back. One hand still on her cheek, he laid the other on her waist and pulled her closer. Her hands wandered over his torso and then further up, over his shoulders, the sides of his face, until they reached his hair. Her back hit the wall, the kiss growing more passionate with each shaky breath they took in-between kisses.
Astrid felt the tension and misery from the past weeks leave her with every clashing of lips, every meeting of tongues, every hot exhale on her skin, every tiny movement of his hands on her body. Breathing heavily, they parted, but she held him close. Standing up straight despite wobbly knees, she put her face in a determined expression.
“I love you. And I want to be with you.”
His entire face lit up and with gleaming eyes, he leaned in to kiss her once more, but she pushed him back. “But I need to know how you feel first.”
Hiccup regarded her with an intense look and one corner of his mouth stretched into a lopsided smile. “Is that still not obvious?”
“I need you to say it.”
“Okay.” Her took both her hands in his again. “Astrid, I can’t imagine my life without you in it anymore. I’m crazy about you. And, quite honestly, I… I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you.”
Astrid didn’t even try to fight the wide grin that broke out on her face. “Cheeseball,” she teased.
“Hey, you wanted to know how I feel. You set the stage yourself.”
She leaned up for another kiss, the sigh he breathed bouncing through her chest.
“I kind of want cheese now.”
He gestured at himself. “Lucky for you, I am a cheeseball. Major Cheeseball, reporting for duty.” He gave her a quick fake salute.
She rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile from her face. “I mean cheese that I can eat.”
He contemplated thinking for a moment before he smirked at her and wiggled his brows suggestively. She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “You know what I mean, you dork.”
He took her hand and intertwined their fingers loosely. “Later then, alright. Now let’s get you some cheese!” he exclaimed enthusiastically and started walking down the hallway in long steps, pulling her along.
She chuckled at his antics and fell into step beside him. “Then again, I could just listen to you talk to get my cheese.”
“Ha ha.”
“Cheese topped with sarcasm.”
“Mmh, your favorite.”
For some reason, Astrid wasn’t surprised how easily they’d fallen back into their old dynamic. Interacting with Hiccup came so natural to her.
Maybe she would get hurt, maybe everything would work out perfectly fine. But no matter what, she would not go down without fighting to her final breath.
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