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sukunas-angel · 3 years

Text

When The Clock Strikes Midnight Collab.

Sukuna x Female Reader

Little Red Riding Hood Theme.

Word Count: 2.4k

Trigger warnings: Non-Con. Please do NOT read if this bothers/triggers you. View at your own discretion.

Tags: NSFW, Non-Con, Little Red Riding Hood Theme, JJK, Jujutsu Kaisen AU, Sukuna x DFAB Reader, Predator x Prey Trope.

It hadn’t always been like this.

She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the rumours had started, or when fear had spread like a vicious wildfire around the village. She remembered a time before the whispers and the unofficial curfew. She remembered a time when the sun used to shine, and life as she knew it was just plain ordinary.

There was a cursed spirit that supposedly lurked in the woods that separated the small village from her grandmothers cottage. She wasn’t sure when or how it had arrived, just that people who dared go near the forest were never seen again.

She had lost classmates, friends. Too many she knew went venturing into the forest, to never return again. Some of them were brave; searching for missing family and friends. And some were stupid, sneaking into the dense wood on dares in the dead of night. It didn’t matter their intention. Whoever entered the forest, never came back.

Y/N was neither brave nor stupid.

No, certainly not brave. Even now, her heart raced fiercely in her chest as she slowly trudged through the sea of amber leaves on the forest floor. Her hands were clammy and balled into tight fists inside the oversized sleeves of her red hoodie. Her breaths came fast and laboured, creating a white smoke in the cold autumn air. No, she certainly wasn’t brave at all.

She just felt guilty.

The fear and hysteria had gotten so severe in the village that no one dared deliver groceries to her grandmother anymore. It had been almost 5 days since all ventures into the forest had stopped completely, and Y/N was certain her grandmother had to be slowly starving by now. She was far too old and frail to be foraging for food in the forest, and far too sickly to be going without proper nutrition.

Y/N wasn’t stupid.

She knew a journey into the forest meant certain death. She knew this, she really did.

But she couldn’t just let her grandmother starve to death.

She was the last bit of family she had. And starvation was such a slow and cruel death. She couldn’t handle the guilt, the overwhelming feeling of responsibility that weighed heavily in her chest.

So here she was, on a gloomy October morning, walking into certain death, with a basket full of groceries clutched to her chest.

It was almost funny.

No, it was funny. She giggled to herself. Actually, it was hilarious. She had ventured into certain death with nothing to arm herself with, but cans of soup. She giggled some more; perhaps she was dumb.

“How odd. They’re not normally crazy until after I’ve finished with them.”

Her body froze in place, and her eyes darted around wildly, trying to find the source of the voice. From what the village elders had told everyone, cursed spirits weren’t supposed to talk.

“No matter. You humans are always the same when you die. Snivelling, pathetic little shrimps right until the last breath.”

The voice was closer now, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. She turned her whole body suddenly, whipping her head round to face the incredible evil that stood behind her.

What stood before her wasn’t what she expected at all.

She hasn’t expected a cursed spirit to look so human. The elders had painted them as such ghastly creatures, a terrible sight for anyone who could actually see them. But the entity that stood before her was almost attractive. Something so pleasing to the eye that, if she weren’t scared out of her mind, she might’ve found him incredibly handsome.

His pink hair complimented his red eyes perfectly, and his frighteningly tall figure was sculpted and muscled beneath the white robe he wore.

“Y-you’re human?” She questioned uncertainly.

He looked human enough. Sure, he had odd black markings on his skin but that could just be paint, right? The elders had insisted cursed spirits were monsters, incapable of speech and very unlikely to be seen by the eyes of ordinary humans.

“You can see me?” He seemed genuinely delighted at the prospect, a large grin splitting his face, revealing sharp, pointed teeth.

Teeth that certainly weren’t human.

She shook her head dumbly, averting her eyes in a futile attempt to pretend she was blind to the presence in front of her.

“You shook your head to my question, which means you can hear me too. What an interesting little human you are,” he almost cooed to her, stepping forward in curiosity.

She stepped back instinctively, with every fibre of her being screaming for her to run. She was in the vicinity of an apex predator. She was the prey, she was helpless. She knew this in her very soul.

Run.

Her brain was screaming at her to sprint, adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her muscles were poised, ready to contract, to move her faster than she’d likely ever moved before.

But she couldn’t move.

“Humans haven’t been able to see me in millennia. Not since those jujutsu sorcerers were still around.”

He was speaking to her again, smiling at her in malice. His cold red eyes appraised her form, smiling wider when he noticed how ready she was to bolt.

“What’s the matter little human? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled darkly, stepping even closer.

“You know, most people would have ran by now. What’s the matter? Too frightened to move?” He taunted her, making her blood boil at his mocking tone.

“What’s the point in running? I’d be dead within seconds. I’d rather face my death head on. I’m not a coward.” She spat at him, her eyes a raging fire.

She could tell he enjoyed this. He enjoyed the fear he brought to people, the chase when they ran. And she was sure he enjoyed killing them after.

Though she was terrified, and her body screamed at her to run as fast as she could, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

His resounding laugh startled her.

“What an interesting little creature you are!” He laughed in delight, clapping his hands together with a large grin.

“But your little front doesn’t fool me. I can hear your racing heart, little girl. I can smell the adrenaline coursing through your veins. I can taste your fear.” His voice lowered and he stepped toward her again.

She backed up now, cursing herself when her back hit the cold bark of a tree. She should’ve been more aware of her surroundings. He was too close to try moving away from the tree behind her now.

She was too frightened to try move anyway, her legs shook and she slumped slightly into the tree trunk, her knees weak from fear. She wanted to be strong, to face her imminent death head on.

But she was afraid.

His large figure caged her to the tree, his arm coming to rest just above her head. He looked down at her cruelly.

“You. Are. Terrified.” He whispered in her ear. She whimpered in response, her head sinking into her shoulders in fear.

“You know,” he started, a hunger settling in his crimson eyes once again.

“There was a story that went around this village back when I was human,” Sukuna purred, drawing his face closer to hers so that their noses almost touched.

“About a poor little girl…” he grabbed her fragile wrists in his hands, pinning them above her head. She watched him through fearful, wide eyes.

He could feel her heart hammering in her chest. He had forgotten how pleasant and warm a woman’s body could be. She was ever so pretty too, her large doe eyes had drawn him in from the beginning.

“And a big…” he put his lips to her ear, grinning at how she shivered in fear.

“….Bad…” he licked the shell of her ear, revelling in her cry of fear.

“….Wolf.” Sukuna growled, pushing his body into hers, trapping her impossibly tight against the tree. He licked up her neck, moaning at just how good she tasted.

So sweet.

She tried squirming away from him; being pinned so tightly between him and the tree was almost painful. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, she couldn’t bear to look at the beautiful monster in front of her anymore.

“You’re delicious.” Sukuna whispered in her ear, nibbling on the lobe.

“Did you eat the other people that came into the woods?” She’d tried to sound strong, but the wobble in her voice betrayed her.

He pulled back to look down upon her coldly. His cruel smirk told her the answer to her question.

“Yes.” He affirmed, stroking her cheek with one sharp nail while his other hand kept her wrists pinned above her head.

Her knees almost gave way at his answer, as her breaths came out in frantic gasps.

So many people…

So many people had been eaten. By this human-like monster in front of her.

Oh, god. Y/N thought.

I’ll be eaten too.

“A-are you gonna eat me?” She breathed, looking up into his cold red eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Y/N didn’t want to die. She was too young. She had so much to live for, so much she wanted to do. She never even got to leave this damned village. She was born here, set to die here, without ever seeing anywhere else.

A wasted life. She thought miserably.

“No.”

Her eyes met Sukuna’s again in shock.

“Though you are delicious,” he grinned, his pointed teeth making her shudder.

“A human hasn’t been able to see or hear me in millennia. And here you are,”

“A pretty little girl, who stumbled so innocently into my territory,” he was whispering into her ear again, making her shiver.

“Who can see and hear me. Killing you would be a waste.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, groaning at how good she smelt.

“It’s been years since I felt the touch of a woman.” He told her, sucking lightly on her neck.

Her eyes widened as the meaning of his words dawned on her.

“No, no, no, no! No way…no way in hell will I…I’m not…I won’t be your whore.” She sputtered angrily, squirming wildly, trying to pull her wrists from his grip.

He dropped her wrists, stepping backwards. The grin on his face was feral.

“Such spunk for helpless little prey like you” he delighted.

“Let’s play a game.” He decided, a gleeful grin still playing on his lips.

“You’ll be little red riding hood,”

“And I’ll be the big, bad wolf.” He bared his sharp teeth at her, portraying just how wolflike he really looked.

“If you make it out of these woods before I catch you, you’re free.”

“But if I catch you, you’re mine.” He growled possessively.

“I’ll give you a little head start, it’s only fair. You’re such weak prey after all.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his posture undoubtedly relaxed.

Y/N knew he was certain of his inevitable victory.

She was sure he would win too, even with whatever ‘head-start’ he was so graciously going to give her. He’d single handedly pinned her against the tree like it was nothing, despite her using all her strength to squirm away. This ‘game’ of his was futile.

But, damn, she had to try.

She couldn’t just roll over and become someone’s whore.

She took off running, unwilling to hear him speak anymore. She thought perhaps if she ran and caught him off guard, she’d be able to put even more distance between them.

She could hear his loud laughter booming behind her, she’d never heard something so cold.

“Ten.” She heard him call, and she almost cried in response.

Ten seconds??

That’s what he called a head start?

She pushed herself harder, the muscles in her legs burning from the exertion. She wasn’t even sure the direction she was running in was the right one, she’d had no time to think. All she could do was run and hope that she reached the village in time.

“Nine.” He still sounded somewhat close.

“Eight.” His voice sounded somewhat distant now.

“Seven.” The end of the forest was nowhere in sight, but his voice was definitely fading.

“Six” she barely heard him, perhaps she’d put a decent distance between them now, she hoped.

She weaved in and out of the trees with an agility she never knew she possessed. The adrenaline pumping through her veins made everything clearer, focussed her enough to easily dodge stray roots and branches that would trip her or hinder her escape.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but she guessed he was probably chasing her by now. She just hoped she’d covered enough distance to escape him.

She didn’t hear him.

He was silent as he tackled her roughly to the ground.

Air was forced out her lungs in a gasp at the force of it, her dazed eyes meeting his as he pinned her roughly to the ground.

“No…no…” she breathed, tears pouring out her eyes.

He sat on her, his weight heavy on her waist, as he leaned toward her, her wrists being pushed painfully into the cold ground.

“I win.” He whispered into her ear, before licking it.

“No…” she whimpered as more tears fell.

“Yes.” He purred, nuzzling her neck again.

“You smell delightful.” He groaned again.

“P-please…” she whimpered, her chest heaving still as she gasped for air.

“And now the wolf devours it’s prey.” He growled, licking up her neck.

“You said you didn’t want to eat me!” She cried.

He chuckled, licking away a stray tear from her cheek.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He growled.

“I lied.” He grinned, as she cried out again, shaking in fear.

“However, killing you really would be a waste.” He continued.

He sat up again, keeping her arms pinned by her head still. He appraised her form again, smirking. Sukuna truly hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing something so beautiful in a long time.

“Good thing there’s more than one way to eat someone.” He chuckled.

Y/N gasped shakily as the meaning of his words dawned on her.

Sukuna pressed his lips against hers roughly, forcing his tongue between her lips. He groaned as he did, relishing how good it felt. How good she tasted.

Yes, there was more than one way to eat someone. She thought helplessly.

She wasn’t sure which way was worse.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #non con #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #when the clock strikes midnight collab #sukuna x reader #trigger warning #non consensual #little red riding hood #anime #collab

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eirikaanemo · 3 years

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Venti falls in love with an Inazuman rebel. The rebel has no vision, but what they do have is a belief that everyone has an inherent right to live freely. How does Venti know about this rebel in the first place? I honestly have no idea...

Visionless Visionary

Venti x GN!Reader

1.8k Words

Warning: Minor character death mentioned, prayer (if that bothers you)

Disclaimer: I knew next to nothing about Baal when I wrote this, so it may not be an accurate representation of her character.

Inazuma is a mess. That is just a fact now. Baal has suddenly become violent and a danger to her people. So many had done nothing but hold a vision she had bestowed upon them in the first place. And because of that, she struck your cousin down. You can still remember the thump of his lifeless body hitting the ground and the steady tap, tap, tap of Baal’s shoes as she walked away.

She seemed completely unaffected by her actions. You were anything but. The scene played over and over in your nightmares for weeks, and continues to haunt you. So when the rebellion reached out to you for support you were happy to assist. You found out he had just joined their ranks and that’s why he had been targeted.

However, you don’t have a vision so there’s only so much you can do. Of course they always welcome financial support and you gave it to the best of your ability. But you knew there had to be more you could do. So you spoke to some people and it was agreed that you would go to Mondstadt and position Barbatos for his support for your cause.

He hadn’t been seen in centuries, but he was the god of freedom, right? If anyone could help them, it would be him. So with the rebellion’s blessing you took your savings and made the long journey to Mondstadt.

Finding lodging was fairly easy. The people of Mondstadt were more than willing to help you. Especially once they found out what you were there to do. ‘Such a great and admirable cause,’ they said. ‘May Barbatos bless you!’ And all you could do was hope he did.

You prayed every morning and every night for help for your people. The heavens seemed quiet, but you didn’t let that dissuade you. Surely your sheer persistence would make a difference, you reasoned. And so you kept on.

One night, rather early on, you ran into a bard not long after your evening prayer. He had been not too far from the statue and you were captivated by the beauty of the song he played. It was ancient Inazuman and for just a moment you were able to forget and be caught up in the memories of better days.

When the song ended you were disappointed and tried not to pout. Judging from the laugh the bard let out when he saw you, it must have still shown on your face. “Did you like the song?” He asks. “I know I didn’t play for long. Would you like to hear another?”

“I would love to,” you admit. He smiles and simply starts on another song, this one also of Inazuma origin. From there he transitions into a more Mondstadtian style, singing The Ballad of Freedom. You know it well, as it’s a favorite of many of the rebels. As the last note fades he turns back to you.

“What brings you here, I wonder. Has it to do with your country being torn asunder?” He inquires.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’ve come to ask Lord Barbatos for his assistance in our cause. We fight for freedom from Baal, who has become nothing but a tyrant. As for me personally, well, she killed my cousin right in front of me. Her only reasons being the vision she bestowed upon him herself not many years ago and his belief that what she was doing was wrong. No one should have to suffer that.”

“Indeed, it seems you have a need. Your cause is just and swords you thrust. But the archons don’t just help everyone, so prove to him you’re worthy of some.”

“But how do I do that?” You question the cryptic bard.

“You’ll see in time, dear friend of mine!” He winks and you find your face warming. “Though I have a question if you don’t mind. Is the assistance you’re seeking a vision like mine?” He taps the glowing turquoise vision sitting on his belt by his hip.

“No,” you shake your head. “After what happened to my cousin, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with a vision. For me they’ve been nothing but trouble.” He nods in understanding.

“I see how that would be. I must take my leave for now, we’ll see each other later anyhow.” And he’s off into the night.

He’s right that this is far from the last time you see him. And he’s right that you start noticing the tests that Barbatos has set before you. More and more people seek your help in one thing or another, especially since the one they call “honorary knight” left to Liyue. There’s much to do, but you’re happy to help them.

Eventually you stop helping them because it’s a test and start helping them because you want to; because it’s the right thing to do. You help Lisa organize the library. You help Barbara clean the cathedral. You help Amber keep watch. You help Venti with his performances from time to time. You stand in for Diluc’s barkeep while he recovers from an illness.

Days and days have passed and your relationship with Venti grows and grows. You notice more and more things about him that you rather like. His laugh. His eyes. His hands. His music. His sense of humor. His optimism.

Really, everything about him is amazing. You try to deny it at first. But you know deep down that you’re falling in love. And you’re seeing some hints that he might be too. Lots of them, because he’s started flirting with you almost constantly.

However, as your relationship grows, your hope dwindles. It’s been weeks! You’ve helped so many people and have prayed so many times. And yet you have not received an answer. Not even an acknowledgement that he has heard.

When you express your concern and discouragement to Venti, he is very concerned. “I’m just not sure how much longer I can stay,” you explain. “While I would hate to return empty handed, I can’t stay here forever.”

“Try just one more time, for me?” he asked you, looking a little guilty despite not having reason to be. It’s not like he was keeping Barbatos from speaking with you. As if he could sense your hesitance he sweetened the deal. “If you do, I’ll give you a kiss!” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and flashed you a mischievous smile and you felt a warm blush bloom on your face.

“Alright,” you grumble good-naturedly. “I’ll try one more time.” His resulting cheer and more cheery smile were nearly enough to have made you do it by themselves.

That night you approached his statue, feeling unreasonably nervous compared to the nights before. “Lord Barbatos,” you prayed. “I seek thy assistance for my people’s cause. We seek the freedom thou dost represent. Someday may we all be free to live our lives reasonably, but as we please. This is my vision, my hope. Please, if it be thy will, let thy winds be not still. Guide us to better days, for this is what I pray.”

You stay there for a long moment, waiting. Then, the wind picks up and you hear a voice from it. It seems vaguely familiar but you can’t quite figure out why.

“Your diligence and passion for your cause has secured my blessing,” the winds whispered. “My winds will be at your back and support your cause. However, if you accept a vision despite your fears, you will be able to do far more. The wind will whisper secrets to your ears. All plans spoken will be carried to your ears.

“You need not fight with it. Trust in me, that I will not strike you down for accepting this gift. In your time here in my home I have found you to be a friend to us so I will be a friend to you.”

You feel tears come to your eyes. “I accept,” you whisper. This will be incredibly valuable.There’s no way you could turn it down. And this is the kind of god you can trust and accept a vision from. He is as kind, generous, and benevolent as his people.

After a moment of silence, the winds calm and a gleaming turquoise vision lies before you, dangling from a necklace like a pendant. It’s smaller than some others you’ve seen and is hidden easily when you slide it over your head and under your shirt. That will be invaluable when you return to Inazuma. It would be most suspicious for you to return with one after everything that’s happened.

You take another moment to catch your breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. Then you take a particularly deep breath to steady yourself and make your way back to Venti. “How did it go?” He asks, and you smile in response.

“It went very well,” you said, pulling the pendant out to show him your new vision. “Now we match! Now… I believe I was promised a kiss?”

The smile on his face at your teasing words could have lit up a room, if you were in one. He took your hands in his and tugged you closer gently before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was a pleasant kiss, chaste but lingering and sweet.

He giggled at the face you made when he pulled away. You joined it, adding your laughter to his. Between the blessing and his kiss you felt like you were on top of the world. Then you remembered something that brought you down from your high.

“Venti, you know this means I have to leave now, right?” You inquire.

His face fell to a serious and thoughtful expression before it softened and he sent you a small smile. “Yeah, I know. You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” you respond softly. “I love you too.”

He nods. “Then I’ll wait for you. So don’t take too long, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll do what I can,” you reply.

Your parting is sad, but hopeful as he waves you goodbye until you’re so far away that he can’t see you. He sings nearly nothing but sappy love songs for the next week. He misses you, but knows you’ll be back. His winds won’t let anything happen to you after all.

When you return to Inazuma you find that all the rebels with anemo visions had their power boosted, the ships sailed swifter with the wind behind them, and the information the wind brought you gave you many victories. The struggle was still difficult, but the help you had obtained made a serious difference and soon enough you were headed back to Mondstadt.

You are headed home. After all, home is where the heart is.

tag list: @clouds-rambles

#eirika writes #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader

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saabbi · 3 years

Text

Regret part 8

Home

Genshin Impact Adeptus!au

warnings: -

notes: I definitely did NOT forget tumblr and posted this chapter on all other platforms except here. ao3 series link

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A wave of nausea hits you, as you sit up with a throbbing headache. Your pounding head feels like it’s about to crack open, and the bumpy searide is definitely not helping, disrupting you from your much needed rest.

Knock knock. You dragged your body to the door, opening it to find a crew member greeting you.

“Hey! Our crew has prepared some meals, the captain asked if you’d like to sit with us to eat as well?”

“It’s fine, I don’t-” rumble , your stomach rumbles like the storms in Inazuma. Oh, how embarrassed you are.

“Oh my, you must be starving! Come on out! It should be ready!” they drag you out, seating you by the round table with several dishes already served.

Adepti don’t need sustenance , you remember what Xiao always said. Which is, or was , true, as you never felt the need to consume food, eating was only an act to satisfy your own taste buds, not that you ate much except for occasional snacks Childe brings you. But archons do you finally understand the word famished .

The Crux’s crew members are all amiable towards you and lively; filling your bowl with rice to the brim, keeps on adding more meat and vegetables to your bowl after seeing you wolf down the food given like you haven’t eaten for days- you couldn’t even thank them fast enough with your mouth full. The captain, boisterous and energetic, would tell you stories of the crew’s sea journeys while you devoured the dishes. It’s the first time we’ve had a Snezhnayan onboard , she told you with her crew’s eyes sparkling and nodding in agreement.

“So...you’re what they call the harbingers, right? From the Fatui-gang thing? Why are you heading to Liyue?” The captain nonchalantly asked you, causing your hands to freeze on the spot.

Swallowing the mouthful of rice and putting down your chopsticks, you lowered your voice, “Um, I was one, until recently. For now I suppose I’m… meeting up with old friends back in Liyue.” You awkwardly rubbed your neck. The harbinger title may once mean everything to you, but not anymore.

“Oh... is that so?” Beidou sensed stiffness from you, deciding not to press any further, “well, starting off fresh doesn't always mean it’s bad, and meeting up with good old friends huh? That is quite nice, must be looking forward to it, huh?”

“Yes...i-it is quite nice…” Beidou chuckles at your slightly flustered response and lightly ruffles your hair, then continues to stuff your bowl with even more food to make sure you eat enough. She said that you looked pale and sickly, urging you to gobble down more food, with you unable to protest with your mouth full.

You’re definitely less agile compared to before. Your body doesn’t feel as light, no longer able to reach high grounds with a simple jump. Your sword is also a lot heavier than it was, or maybe you just lost strength.

“The clean strikes and experience hidden in the stance...impressive indeed, gozaru. ” a uniquely dressed crewmate who saw you practicing your swings clap at your demonstration. You remember Beidou calling him Kazuha, he seems to be impressed at your skills which are aged like fine wine. Your swings are less powerful and slower than before, but you still have your swordsmanship skills and techniques embedded in you.

“Yet you seem a bit… preoccupied. Is there something on your mind?”

You put your blade aside and lean on the railing of the ship, aimlessly tracing the waves that seem to chase after the ship, “I’m not sure what to say when I see him again.”

What should you say when you see Zhongli? Long time no see? I was fired by the Tsarista herself, so I came back? Everything just sounds incredibly wrong.

“There’s a lot of things I want to say, but I also don’t know what to tell him.”

The tingling excitement in you clashes with the anxiousness, uncertain of how to face Zhongli. You were once an adeptus of Liyue, then the twelve harbinger of the Fatui, and now… you lost both titles. You even lost your adeptal powers, could you even consider yourself an adeptus now? How would Zhongli respond when he hears all of this? You sigh, wishing the ship would give you more time for mental preparation before reaching Liyue.

“I’m sure that your feelings, just like the wind, will surely properly reach them. What’s important is that you convey them before everything’s too late.” Kazuha gazes distantly into the ocean. You overlook the lingering loneliness in his last sentence, deciding you’re not in the position to pry into it and put your focus onto the gentle rocking of the sea instead.

Zhongli paces back and forth continuously by the harbour, rubbing his fingers apprehensively with a stern expression on his face which made even Hutao, who was passing by the harbour, not dare to sneak up and pull a prank on him.

Zhongli, usually a calm and reserved man, well liked by people, now shooting up and flinching at the slightest noise of a ship’s horn and looking around with uneasiness, seemingly searching for something, received confused looks from passersby.

Zhongli, who received a letter not long ago, delivered in a hurry by one of Childe’s subordinates, spit his pu-erh tea out when he read the contents. The letter was short, with messy and almost unreadable handwriting which seemed to be written in a rush, and only included a very brief idea of what happened in Snezhnaya, something about you getting exiled and hurt, now returning to Liyue on Crux, telling him to wait at the harbour for Crux and to get you home safe.

That letter gave him no further useful information at all on your safety, or whatever craziness happened to you, which nowhere reassures him. He fumbles with the letter until it’s all crumbled and wrinkly, as if it would speed up Crux’s arrival.

The blast of a ship’s horn grabs his attention, eyes widen at the long awaited sight of the majestic ship.

Zhongli spots you effortlessly among the crewmates, mouth slightly parting as his golden amber eyes lock onto yours. You watch as his ponytail dances freely in the wind, his diamond pupils containing mixed swirls of emotions.

Suddenly, you feel like a guilty child who secretly ate candy before dinnertime and turned your head away at lightning speed as you waited for Beidou to park her ship by the docks.

“Excuse me.” Zhongli hurriedly makes his way to where you are, scuffling across the harbour and pushing the offboarding crewmates aside. He needs to confirm that you’re okay. He halts just before the boarding plank, your figure located at the other end of it, standing slightly above him. A wave of intense relief rushed up his head making his vision spin for a second. You’re alright, you’re safe.

“Zhongli,” the worries you held dissipate upon the presence of him, your quiet voice reaching his ears without getting carried away by the wind.

Time is never enough, everytime he sees you, he is reminded of this saying. Never enough time to make amendments, never enough time to love his children and his people the way they deserved it. Time is never enough, but for you, he’ll always make time, as long as he still has the chance to do so, as long as you’re still here, alive and well.

Zhongli is not a man of many desires. The waves brought you back to Liyue, to him. What more to that would he ask for? He has all the time for you.

“I’m back, Morax.” You muster up the courage and break the silence, your words concise and firm. Morax, the name you liked most, also the one you’re most familiar with. You take a step forward, so does he.

“Yes, my child,”A soft smile gently spreads across Zhongli’s face, one that radiates warmth and relief. “Welcome back.”

Zhongli takes another step, his arm reaching out to you and the gloved palms spread open right before you, awaiting.

“Let’s go home.”

This time, without reluctance, you respond by taking up his offered hand.

You’re home.

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kanerallels · 3 years

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This Is My Letter To The World, That Never Wrote To Me

(for Foxiyo Week day 5, based on the prompt "confession/revelation")

Read on AO3!

@foxiyoweek

Word Count: 3,179

Tags/Warnings: G (survivor's guilt and a little angst, plus implied character death)

Riyo Chuchi. Senator of Pantora, an incredible politician, and possibly the most mystifying woman alive. Or at least that was what Fox thought.

He’d been confused by her ever since they first met upon her arrival on Coruscant-- a new Senator, obviously preparing herself to make new alliances. And one of the first ones she’d made was the Coruscant Guard, befriending his men quickly.

No one did that. Some of the Senators went out of their way to treat them like actual beings, such as Senator Amidala. But befriending them? Unheard of for a senator. No one did that.

And yet, she’d done it. According to Thire, half the men worshipped the very ground she walked on, and all of them were ready to fight and die for her. Not that Fox couldn’t relate. What he was confused about was why she’d befriended them in the first place, particularly when it became clear that she hadn’t expected this kind of loyalty from them.

But Fox had learned to live with the mystery that was Senator Chuchi, as he’d learned to live with many things, most of them far more unpleasant than this. But after Order 66--

he forcibly pushed away the memory of the way his body had seemed to work against him, sending his men to raid the Jedi Temple, and how he’d only been able to regain control long enough to put a blaster bolt through his Chancellor’s head--

He hadn’t seen her after that. Not for months, and if he was being honest, he’d missed her, more than he’d like to admit. Particularly in front of the boys. But it was a good move to alienate herself from him; a smart one, politically speaking.

So of course, barely a month after Fox had thought this, Senator Chuchi had shown up at his cell. Saying she was going to defend him in court.

And that she’d missed him.

Fox wasn’t really sure where to start with how ridiculous that sounded.

First of all, there wasn’t going to be much of a trial, since he was guilty and was going to admit as much the minute he got a chance. Second of all, since when was he getting a trial? He’d been locked up for over six months without so much as a mention of one.

But more than that, his mind kept circling back to the same thing. That she’d missed him. Him. A clone. That alone was implausible enough, let alone that she missed him as a person. As a friend.

So why did he want to believe it so badly?

Fox decided to leave that one a mystery, too.

True to her word, Senator Chuchi had started visiting regularly. Every time, she brought with her datapad, but she had yet to actually bring up his trial. And Fox wasn’t going to be the one to start things, if only because there was nothing to say.

That wasn’t to say she didn’t ask a lot of other questions, though.

“What is your favorite childhood memory?” Senator Chuchi asked, leaning back against the wall of his cell, absently fiddling with one of the gold ornaments hanging from her hairpiece. She’d clearly come straight from a Senate meeting, as she wore a formal gown of rich bronze with a high collar and a flowy skirt. The vibrant color lit up against her pale blue skin, complimenting the amber of her eyes perfectly. Most of her hair was still caught up in the headdress she wore, but a few strands had fallen loose, resting just above her collarbone. Fox’s eyes kept straying to them, and he wondered what it would feel like to run his hand through them.

Wait. What?

Where the kriff did THAT come from? he thought, rapidly trying to compose his face. Come on, Fox, you know better than that. Clones don’t get to think like this. I don’t get to think like this. Especially not now, not about her.

Realizing that Senator Chuchi was still waiting for an answer, Fox hastily said, “Oh… not sure.” A slight smile tugged at his mouth, and he said, “I didn’t quite have the typical childhood, you know. None of the clones did. But I do remember plenty of times when Bly would convince me and a few of our batchmates to sneak out after hours, usually looking for food. Most of the time we got caught, and if we were lucky, we’d get away with a stern lecture. Not that that stopped Bly. Still, it was nice to have time to ourselves, no matter how short it was.”

Letting out a slight chuckle, Senator Chuchi said, “That sounds nice. I would have assumed you were more of a rule-follower than that.”

“Oh, I was,” Fox assured her. “But Bly could convince most of us into pretty much anything, and someone had to be the responsible one there.”

Senator Chuchi laughed, sending a shiver down Fox’s spine, as the musical quality of her laugh always did. She shot him a smile, which he returned. Even as he did so, however, his mind drifted to something he’d been thinking about for a while-- his brothers.

“Senator,” he said tentatively, “I don’t want to presume. But… Could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course,” Senator Chuchi said immediately. “What is it?”

“It’s… well, I haven’t gotten much news since I got in here,” he explained. “I know that the war is all but finished, and many of the clone battalions are coming back to Coruscant. But I don’t know what happened to my brothers, especially during Order 66.” Even saying the last two words left a bad taste in his mouth, and the memory of a cold voice in his head-- good soldiers follow orders.

Shaking off the chill that had swept over him, Fox continued, “I know that you probably don’t know their statuses, but if you know of any way I could find out--”

“Absolutely,” Senator Chuchi said immediately. “I actually have a friend who should be able to help with this-- she’s been working closely with a lot of the clones, especially the ones who’s chips were still in six months ago.”

You’ve got to admire her politician’s ability to try for a little tact, Fox observed wryly-- it was something that he’d been struggling with ever since he’d begun working on Coruscant. “Well, if you think she’d be able to help, I would appreciate it a lot, Senator.”

“I think she would,” Senator Chuchi said. Hesitating, she said, “You should know, she’s a Jedi.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Fox said. “For me, at least.”

Nodding, Senator Chuchi said, “Alright, then. I’ll bring her with me when I visit tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Fox said, and the Pantoran smiled at him with that warm smile of hers.

“No need to thank me, Commander. After all, they’re your family. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be worried about them.” A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she said, “There is one way you could thank me, though.”

“And how’s that?”

“I know you’re not comfortable calling me by my first name,” she said, and Fox tensed slightly. “But would you ever consider calling me Chuchi? The thing is, we’re friends, and I don’t think friends should have to use titles. If the answer is no, I completely understand.”

Fox opened his mouth, fully intending to tell her that he couldn’t, that it wouldn’t be appropriate, since he was a clone and she was a senator. But then he met her eyes, and saw the slightest gleam of hope in them, and before he knew what he was doing, he said, “Yeah. I could do that.”

Another smile blossomed across her face. “Thank you, Fox.” Getting to her feet, she said, “I’m afraid I’ll be busy for the rest of the day. But I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Of course, Sen-- Chuchi,” he corrected himself. Her name, even her last one, felt strange in his mouth, but almost nice at the same time. “I’ll see you then.”

The rest of the day and a good chunk of the next dragged by as most days did, slow and empty. Fox had gotten used to it for the most part, but he’d be lying to himself if he said Chuchi’s visits weren’t the highlight of his day. Seeing someone-- anyone-- other than just his guards was always nice, but the fact that it was her…

Don’t read into it, he ordered himself.

But what if you’re right? Said the overly optimistic part of himself that sounded suspiciously like one of his brothers. Probably Bly, knowing him. Luckily, that meant Fox didn’t have to listen to him, because Bly was a hypocrite.

Senator Chuchi finally returned in the late afternoon of the next day, with a companion that Fox actually found he recognized-- a girl with red hair, wearing a green flight suit and a leather jacket over it.

“Hang on,” Fox said slowly, squinting at her. “Don’t I know you?”

“Yes, yes you do,” she said cheerfully. “My name’s Sierra-- once, Commander Thire had to physically hold me back from punching out some reg of a senator.”

Fox’s eyebrows rose-- a Jedi who tried to punch out senators and used clone slang? He shot Chuchi a “what kind of mad woman have you brought me” look, and she responded with a “trust me, she’s completely lovely” look. Which wasn’t helpful, but he decided to trust her.

“Nice to meet you, then, ma’am,” he said.

“You as well, Commander. You can just call me Sierra if you want, or Waspee-- that’s my last name. Or just whatever military rank you feel like giving me at the moment, that’s what Captain Rex and his boys do.”

“No offense,” Fox said, “but The 501st is nuts.”

“True,” Sierra agreed. Dropping onto the floor, she crossed her legs and said, “So, I hear you’re looking for some vode of yours. What are their names?”

Fox hesitated. “Uh-- do you know CC-2224?”

“Who, Cody?”

“Yes,” Fox said, giving Chuchi another one of those looks. This time, she just shrugged, looking mildly amused. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“The entire 212th were some of the first to have their chips removed,” Sierra told him. “Cody’s doing just fine.”

“What about Wolffe?”

“He’s just fine. Come on, Commander, did you really think that any of General Plo’s men were going to end up with the chip still in their head?”

“Fair enough,” Fox agreed. “Bly?”

Sierra hesitated for a fraction of a second, which was enough for Fox to feel a stab of panic run through him. Clearly seeing his face, Sierra said hastily, “Oh, he’s okay, I promise. However, he insisted on being one of the last few in his battalion to have his chip removed, and as a result, he ended up still committing Order 66.”

“What?” Fox said, his jaw dropping. “Is he-- his general--”

“Both are fine. Bly somehow fought off the order long enough to warn General Aayla, and she took care of him. She got away with only a few blaster wounds, and he escaped physically, if not emotionally, unscathed.” Sierra grimaced. “Not a super fun weekend for those two.”

“I bet,” Fox muttered. He knew how much Bly cared about his general-- kriff, everyone knew how much he cared about his general. Almost killing her like that probably hurt him more than the Jedi, and if she was anything like Bly was constantly saying she was, General Secura knew that.

Turning his attention back to Sierra, he asked, “What about Thire? I know he and Thorn and Stone all still had the chip in, but what happened afterwards?”

“Actually, Thorn didn’t have his chip,” Sierra corrected him, and Fox’s eyes widened. “He had no idea what was going on, so he played along until the 212th showed up to secure the Senate building. He and Thire are both fine-- Thire’s trial actually happened a few weeks back. He was pardoned, unsurprisingly.”

“And Stone?” Fox asked, and Sierra hesitated, her eyes saying everything for her.

“He was cut down,” she said softly. “At the Jedi Temple. I’m so sorry.”

Pressing his eyes closed, Fox nodded. “I should have known.”

He could still remember a lot from during the order-- listening to the chancellor’s orders. Setting up guards along the perimeter. And sending a detail to the Jedi Temple to take out the younglings. A detail led by Stone.

Sending a brother to his death was never easy, but somehow, this time it felt worse. Because Stone had been fighting for something he didn’t believe in. He hadn’t been protecting, he’d been killing innocents. And Fox had sent him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder-- undoubtedly Chuchi. She gave him a quick squeeze, not saying anything, just offering him what quiet support she could.

Okay, Fox, he told himself. You can grieve later. Opening his eyes, he gave Sierra a nod. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry my news couldn’t be better,” Sierra said with a sigh.

“Better than it could have been,” Fox responded. “And it’s good to hear my brothers are safe.”

“You’ll see it yourself in a few weeks,” Chuchi told him, and a grimace twisted Fox’s face. It’s time to stop ignoring the obvious, he decided.

“I think we both know that’s not going to happen,” he stated quietly.

“What do you--” the senator stopped, and then glanced at Sierra. “Could you--”

“Of course,” Sierra said, getting to her feet. “Good to see you again, Commander.”

As she slipped out of the cell, Chuchi turned to face him, studying his face. “Why do you think you’re guilty?” she asked.

So she knew. Fox released a long exhale. “Senator--”

“Fox, I need to know. Tell me why you think you’re guilty. Please. I want to understand.”

For a moment, Fox didn’t speak. He wasn’t one to open up, for the most part. And if he did, it was to his brothers. Besides, he didn’t know if this short, innocent senator from Pantora could understand. Her world could seem so clean, so full of light.

But for some reason, he found himself speaking anyway.

“They’re right, what they say. I worked with and for Chancellor Palpatine. I did his bidding, obeyed what he said. Sometimes, the things he asked me to do, I wondered, just for a second, if this was the right choice.” Fox recalled with a pang the hunt for the Togruta Jedi Ahsoka Tano, and how Palpatine had put a price on a member of the 501st’s head. “But I did it anyway. I was the perfect soldier, following orders. And then he found out that he’d been discovered, and he enacted that kriffing order.”

Clenching his teeth, Fox let out a sigh that turned into a growl. “How could I not fight back when I realized what he’d done? Forcing my brothers, who fought for him and his Republic so loyally, to slaughter the Jedi? So I killed him. One minute I was loyal, and the next I’d killed the man I served for so long.” Slumping back against the wall, he didn’t look at Chuchi as he said, “So you can decide. Who does that make me more of a traitor to-- my brothers? The Republic? Myself? The Jedi? I betrayed everyone who I ever gave my loyalty to, so how could they not sentence me? How could I not be guilty?”

Chuchi didn’t speak for a long moment, then Fox heard the rustle of movement as she knelt to face him. Taking his hand, she said firmly, “Look at me, Fox.”

Fox reluctantly did, meeting her warm golden eyes that showed him nothing but compassion. “You’re not a traitor. You saved so many people’s lives when you killed the chancellor, do you understand? Order 66 wasn’t something you could affect in anyone besides yourself. And you did-- you managed to fight it off, and you saved us.”

“By killing the man who I was supposed to be loyal to,” Fox responded, his voice breaking. “I-- I shot him in the back, Chuchi. I don’t mourn him, don’t get me wrong. He never cared, not the way… well, I’m hardly heartbroken over his death. But I had given my loyalty to him, without question.”

“Are you more upset about the fact that you were loyal to him of all people, or that you killed someone you were supposed to be loyal to?” Chuchi asked.

Releasing a sigh, Fox said, “I don’t know. I just know that it feels like everything that happened is my fault.”

Frowning, Chuchi said, “So, you say that you were loyal to the chancellor, and because of this, you’re guilty. But you also feel that you shouldn’t have killed him, since you were loyal to him.”

“Well-- yes, but no. I’m not sad that I killed him, but I should have been loyal--”

“Fox. Where do your loyalties lie?” Chuchi asked, and Fox frowned.

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me, with all honesty, if the galaxy were to be torn apart by war tomorrow, whose side would you want to be on?”

“My brothers,” Fox said immediately. “And you.” He realized what he’d said a few seconds after the words left his mouth, and flicked a glance at her just in time to see a blush crossing her cheeks.

“Who else?” she asked.

“Well, I would want to be loyal to the Republic,” he answered, and Chuchi nodded.

“I see. Fox, did you notice who isn’t on that list?”

“I--” He stopped suddenly.

“The chancellor,” she said. “Do you think, perhaps, that you weren’t loyal to him to begin with? Not in your heart, that is. Perhaps you wanted to work for someone who cared about you and your men, who has your best interests at heart. And you knew that wasn’t Palpatine.”

Fox hesitated, then gave her a nod. “You’re right. But if I’m not loyal to the chancellor--”

“He’s not the chancellor anymore. You have a chance to work for someone who you are loyal to. And when that happens-- Fox, I’ve seen how loyal, how trustworthy you can be. If you truly care about a cause, there won’t be anyone who will fight for it harder.”

“Thank you,” Fox said quietly. He still wasn’t sure about all of this-- what if she was wrong? What if he’d never been truly loyal?-- but he could handle it. And he would.

Chuchi gave his hand another squeeze, then released it and rose to her feet. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay as long as usual-- but I’m free all of next afternoon, if you haven’t grown tired of me.”

Fox gave her a smile, a real one. Better than the half-hearted grins he’d been wearing lately. “Of course not, Chuchi,” he said.

Grinning back, Chuchi said, “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow,” Fox murmured, watching her as she left the cell, his heart a great deal lighter than when Chuchi had come in.

#foxiyoweek2021 #tcw #commander fox #riyo chuchi #the clone wars #tcw fan fic #oc jedi #not my oc #but i love to write about her #order 66 kind of happened au #the happiness au but slightly to the left #it was dope. the end

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt22

hello!!! thank you all for your very kind words i super appreciate you :) happy reading! (u ask i deliver)

pt1

pt21

pt23

A lot of her time was spent enduring criticism from generals, noblemen, and other advisors on how to run the country. Each idea she had was continuously shot down. She knew they were only taking advantage of Zuko’s absence, but their blind defiance of her made her angry. She was only trying to help! Why couldn’t they see that?

The exciting things always seemed to happen while (Y/N) was asleep. She woke to a commotion happening outside of her door. Blinking the sleepiness from her eyes, she slipped on her robe and slippers and peered her head outside of her room. She watched Azula dart past and Zuko running closely after her. (Y/N) blinked, rubbing her eyes once more to confirm that was what she saw. Sure enough, Azula was running down the halls of the palace, laughing hysterically as she did so.

Her presence made no sense to (Y/N). Azula was supposed to be in prison, locked away so tightly that she couldn’t bring harm to anyone. So why was she running around the palace?

The event had surprised (Y/N) enough to wake her up. She ran down the hall after the two siblings, following them out of the palace, down through the gardens, and into a side building whose purpose she had never been sure of. She reached the two just in time to see Azula shut herself behind a door that could only be opened using firebending. Silently, she and Zuko used their bending to open the doors.

The heavy wood parted, revealing a secret study that obviously belonged to Ozai, if the portrait of him above the fireplace was any indication. Azula was at the back of the room, rifling through a chest before popping back up with an, “Aha!” She clutched thin pieces of paper in her pale hands. Turning around, she flashed a smile at (Y/N).

“Oh, Zuzu, you didn’t tell me (Y/N) was going to be here! I’ve been looking forward to catching up with her.”

“What are you doing, Azula?” (Y/N) demanded. Azula ignored her, instead focusing on Zuko.

“Father and I have been getting along very nicely since we’ve been in prison. He even told me about these letters,” She fanned herself with the pages. “That Mother wrote before she was banished. They might be the key to you finding her.”

“Give them to me.” Zuko stretched out his hand, practically begging his sister. “Azula, please.” The girl stared at him for a moment before the letters went up in blue flames. She laughed as she saw the horrified expression on their faces.

“Relax, I know everything that was in these letters. Which is why if you want to find our mother, you’ll have to do it on my terms.”

“No,” (Y/N) said immediately. Zuko stared at her, his face contorted in confusion. “All she wants is to play games, Zuko, don’t let her. We can find your mother another way.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be able to,” Azula drawled, leaning against the large wooden desk of the study. “Not from what Father told me.”

“Azula always lies!” (Y/N) hissed at Zuko. He looked from (Y/N) to Azula, then back to (Y/N).

“I have to trust her,” Zuko said quietly. “Just this once.”

“You won’t regret this, Zuzu,” Azula smiled. “Now, my stipulations. I must accompany you, of course, unbound. No restraints whatsoever.”

Zuko ground his teeth. “Fine.”

(Y/N) flung her hands into the air and let out an exasperated sigh before leaving the room. She passed Suki and Ty Lee, who were no doubt on their way to restrain Azula for the time being. Zuko quickly chased after her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked once he had caught up with her, grabbing her by her forearm.

“She’s playing you, Zuko!” She exclaimed. “She doesn’t really care about you, or finding your mother.”

“I have to give her another chance.”

“Why? It’s not like she deserves it! She almost killed the both of us the last time we saw her!”

“Azula’s my family, (Y/N). You gave me another chance. I have to give her one, too.”

(Y/N) stared up at him. His amber eyes glimmered in the moonlight. He had shown her that everyone was capable of great change. But she couldn’t bring herself to award the same sympathy to Azula. The last time they had seen each other, Azula had nearly killed Zuko. If Katara hadn’t been there to heal him, he would have died. She wasn’t sure if that was something she could forgive.

“Come with me to find her,” Zuko pleaded. (Y/N) looked past him to see Suki and Ty Lee leading Azula back into the palace. She remembered Zuko hitting the ground and Azula’s wicked laugh. She shook her head.

“I understand and support you finding your mother, but I can’t be around her. It wouldn’t end well and I don’t want to ruin the reunion.”

“I get it.” She could see the disappointment lingering on his features. It made her feel incredibly guilty, but she new she had to protect herself. It wasn’t a good idea to put her and Azula together after everything that had happened.

She gave Zuko a half smile before returning to bed.

---

Zuko left a few days later, accompanied with Azula and their friends. (Y/N) was saddened that she might miss out on another adventure, but she knew it was for the best. After all, someone had to run the Fire Nation in Zuko’s absence.

After a particularly grueling argument with another general on the state of the world, (Y/N) had decided that she would like to spend the rest of her day sitting by the turtle duck pond. She brought a book and read under the big tree while eating an apple. Perhaps it was the physical and emotional distance between them, but (Y/N) missed Zuko when he was gone. Meetings flew by easier with him at her side. She had more patience for the old men that tried to argue with her.

A shadow appeared, blocking the sunlight from shining on (Y/N’s) book. She squinted up at the figure and recognized it as Ren, the son of one of the Earth Kingdom noblemen that had been particularly difficult with her today. Diplomats tended to bring their children along with them on important meetings so that they would better understand how they went when it came time for them to attend on their own. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’m Ren,” He said, extending his hand to her. She shook it slowly. “I just wanted to introduce myself to you and apologize for the way my father behaved today.”

“It’s alright,” She said with a shrug, taking another bite of her apple. “He wasn’t the first to be mean to me and he certainly won’t be the last.”

“May I sit?” He asked, gesturing to the grass beside her. She gave a noncommittal shrug, which he took as a yes. “I really liked your idea about holding a festival to promote unity in the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom.”

(Y/N) tilted her head. “How’d you get into the palace?”

“I’ve been here since the meeting. You left too quickly for me to talk to you, so I asked the servants where you were until one of them led me to you.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I promise I’m not trying to be weird, I just really wanted to let you know that you have someone rooting for you from the other side.”

She let out a small smile. “Well thank you, Ren, I appreciate that.” He smiled brightly at her before standing.

“I should probably get going, but I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow if you’ll be there?”

“When the Fire Lord’s out of town, I’m at every meeting.” He gave a quick nod before bowing and walking off of the palace grounds. She watched him as his figure retreated into a small blip on the horizon. What a weird guy.

As weeks progressed without Zuko’s return, Ren found more and more ways to worm his way into (Y/N’s) time. He would talk to her after every meeting and reassure her that the points she had made were smart and discussed very eloquently. He seemed genuine in his compliments, which made (Y/N) feel nice on the inside. She felt her confidence in meetings improve, as long as Ren was there to give her a big smile and thumbs up when no one was looking.

She liked to think that she helped him out, too. When they weren’t in meetings, they discussed ways to make their nations better. She let him know what might be well received by the other diplomats, which allowed him to come out of his shell a bit more during meetings. Some days, when they weren’t supposed to meet, she would invite Ren to sit under the big tree with her and feed the turtle ducks.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve never really hung out with anyone from the Fire Nation before,” Ren admitted one day as he tossed a slice of bread into the pond. The turtle ducks and their babies all swam toward it, instantly devouring it.

“I’ve never really hung out with anyone from the Earth Kingdom before, other than Toph. But she’s her own special brand of person.”

“Really? Not even when you were sent there?” She shrugged.

“My parents never wanted me to go outside of our house. I had to sneak out to see what the city was really like. But I never got to hang out with anyone and just be myself.”

“So they just kept you locked in all day?” She nodded. “Man, I didn’t think being engaged to the Fire Lord would stink that bad, but I guess so.”

(Y/N) stared at him, her brows furrowed. “I’m not engaged to the Fire Lord.” Ren stared back, confused.

“Really? You’re always in all of our meetings, I just assumed that you were preparing to be queen.” (Y/N) scoffed.

“I guess you’re not too far off. Zuko and I used to be betrothed or whatever, but that all got thrown out the window when he was banished. I’m just his friend that helps him handle all of his Fire Lord duties.”

“Oh,” Ren said, tossing another piece of bread into the pond. “Just to confirm, you and Fire Lord Zuko aren’t together?” She shook her head. “Then it wouldn’t be a problem if I asked to take you out on a date this weekend?”

(Y/N) analyzed him for a moment. Her heart had told her for the longest time that it belonged to Zuko, but maybe she just needed to find someone who could change that. And here was a cute, funny guy that she enjoyed spending her time with. She should take a chance.

“I don’t think that’d be a problem at all.”

---

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#atla #avatar #the last airbender #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #toph #iroh #zuko #sokka #aang #momo #appa #azula #suki #writing #fanfiction

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ibelieveinharrystyles · 3 years

Text

Chapter Six: Empty Words and Emptier Promises

Ashley stared at the clock, the taxi to take her to the court was due to arrive in a matter of minutes, and yet Harry was nowhere to be seen, when she told him about the new date for the trial he promised he’d be by her side. But here she was, sitting alone on her sofa, she heard her doorbell ring, meaning the taxi driver had arrived, she was still managing to hide the bump, knowing there would be members of the press loitering outside trying to get a good picture. If Ashley was completely honest, she still hadn’t told Harry about the baby, even though she was almost five months pregnant, even when lockdown measures eased Harry still didn’t come back home. Ashley wasn’t stupid, she knew where he was because she followed dozens of fans on twitter, she knew full well he was having a nice time in Italy. Lottie was looking after Daisy, and Lou had agreed to meet Ashley at court, she had also been called as a witness, seeing as she was the one who found Ashley lying on the floor in the first place. Without the support of Lou, Lottie and Louis, Ashley had no clue where she’d be by now, they were the only people who knew about the baby, even when her mum came to London for Daisy’s birthday, she couldn’t tell her. Compared to Daisy’s pregnancy she felt so disconnected, she had been to all the necessary scans, but she didn’t feel the glow, she didn’t feel the joy, she just felt alone.

As she had expected there were several members of the press waiting outside the court, although neither Ashley or Harry had publicly confirmed their relationship, most people had worked it out. Ashley climbed out of the taxi, ensuring her top effectively concealed her baby bump. Lou was there to meet her, welcoming her with open arms. The pair made their way up the stairs and into the court building, “So Harry’s a no show then?” Lou asked.

“Yep, I’ve been texting him all week, as far as I was aware he was going to be here today.” Ashley explained.

“Oh Ash, I’m so sorry, how’s things with you and the baby?”

“Fine, I almost feel like it's not real, Harry still doesn’t know.” Ashley told her.

“When do you think you’ll tell him?” Lou asked.

“When he decides to show up.”

“Hello stranger,” Ashley looked over her shoulder to see both Louis and Niall, she half expected Louis to come, but seeing Niall provided an added sense of relief, “Lou thought you might need some moral support.” Niall told her.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you both,” Ashley told them, “I know it’s a big thing for you both to come, so it truly means the world to me.”

“Ash, we’ve been mates for ten years, that counts for something.” Louis assured her.

“Try telling Harry that.” Ashley replied.

“Is he not coming?” Niall asked.

“He’s sunning it up in Italy,” Ashley remarked bitterly, as Will and his barrister walked past the group.

“There goes the man of the hour,” Niall muttered.

“I swear if I’d been there I would’ve decked him,” Louis told them discreetly.

The trial was well in progress and Ashley had finally been called to the stand, as she stepped up to the box she looked up at Louis, Niall and Lou. “I swear that the evidence I give today shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” she read from the sheet.

“Thank you, Miss Hanson you’re in a relationship with Mr Harry Styles aren’t you?” The barrister asked.

“I mean I’m not really sure what relevance that has,” Ashley told him.

“It’s relevant Miss Hanson, when did your dalliances with Mr Styles start?” He continued.

“December last year.”

“When you were still in a relationship with my client Mr Clarkson?”

“We kissed two weeks before Will attacked me,” Ashley told him.

“Did it ever go further than that?” He asked.

“No, not when I was with Will.” Ashley replied.

“So, do you not think it was expected for Will to be angry that his partner of a year cheated on him with a global megastar?”

“I don’t really see how Harry’s success and wealth have any relevance, and I don’t understand how you can try and blame me for Will’s actions,” Ashley told him, “You seem to be trying to justify his unlawful beating of a woman, by the fact that whilst I was in an unloving relationship I was in love with another man, who yes on several occasions I met up in secret with. But last time I checked, nothing I have ever done with Harry has been illegal.”

“Are you pregnant Miss Hanson?” He asked her abruptly.

“How the fuck do they know about that?” Louis whispered to Lou.

Ashley remained silent, “I’ll ask the question again, are you pregnant Miss Hanson?” Will’s barrister asked.

“Yes I am, not that I see how that's relevant, and that information stays within this courtroom, if me or our legal team hear of that information being leaked to the press you will be sued for every last penny you have.”

“And when was the baby conceived?” He asked.

“February.”

“Are you completely sure of that?” The barrister asked.

“Well I know when I had sex with my boyfriend, and I also got an A in A Level biology so I know how the reproductive system works.”

“No further questions, your honour,” The barrister told Ashley.

All the witnesses had been called and the jury were busy making their verdict, Ashley sat in between Niall and Louis. “It’s going to be okay Ash, they can’t let him get off.” Niall assured her. The jury promptly returned and took their seats, “Could the foreman of the jury please rise?” The judge declared, “On the count of grievous bodily harm do you find the defendant Will Clarkson guilty or not guilty?”

The pause felt like an eternity, Ashley was on edge, Niall took hold of her hand, holding it tight, “Guilty.” The foreman announced, tears streamed from Ashley’s eyes as she let out an overwhelmed sigh of relief.

“We said it would all work out didn’t we?” Louis whispered, wrapping an arm around her.

“Mr Clarkson, you will serve a minimum sentence of twelve months, when you are released, the restraining order, preventing you from any contact with Miss Hanson or her daughter. Take him down.” The judge said.

“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” Ashley whispered, watching as Will was taken down to the holding area.

“You were incredible Ash,” Lou told her.

“You really were, how about we all go for drinks to celebrate?” Louis suggested.

“Not sure if that’s the best idea,” Ashley replied, gesturing to her bump. “But Lottie’s back at mine looking after Daisy, we could go back and join them, order in a takeaway like the old days?”

“That is an incredible idea,” Niall declared, throwing an arm around Ashley’s shoulder before the group made their way out of the building.

Back at Ashley’s house everyone was sitting in the living room, watching Daisy as she performed a new dance that she had been perfecting, Ashley stood at the island in the kitchen, organising all the food that had been delivered from the chinese takeaway. “Anything I can do to help?” Niall asked, appearing at the door.

“If you could just unwrap those few things and take them into the kitchen you’d be a lifesaver.” Ashley smiled, gesturing to the untouch carrier bag.

“So how are things going with our dear Harold?” Niall asked.

“I never know what's going on with him Niall, he promised me he would come back for the trial, he knew exactly when it was, he also missed Daisy’s fourth birthday, and I haven’t had the chance to tell him about the baby.” Ashley explained.

“How come you haven’t told him?” Niall continued.

“It didn’t seem right to tell him over facetime, and I don’t have a clue how to tell him, I know he wants a family more than anything, but whenever gets on tour I will effectively be a single parent.” Ashley explained.

“I’m so sorry Ash, it’s a shit situation, but I think there’s more than enough love between you two to make things work, and besides, now his schedule is way less busy than when we were touring as a band, he’ll put in the effort to make it work for you both.” Niall assured her.

“I’m worried though, if you were Harry, would you have handled it how he has?” Ashley replied.

“Probably not Ash, but you know what he’s like, sometimes he likes to work things out in his own space.” Niall replied.

“I just wanted him there more than anything Niall.” Ashley sighed, glancing at the photobooth pictures of them from his 21st birthday that sat in a frame on the window sill, Niall proceeded to take a couple of the plates into the living room as Ashley picked up the frame. “Come back to me H.” She whispered, looking up at the amber sunset.

February 2015

“Happy birthday Harry!” Ashley slurred as she entered the venue, stumbling with each step.

“Hey there Ash, I’ve got you love.” Harry smiled, taking hold of both her arms. The party had only been going for a couple of hours and Ashley was already very much plastered.

“You’re amazing Harry, I love you loads.” Ashley smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek, she looked up at him, moving to kiss him on the lips.

“You don’t want to do that Ash, not while you’re drunk.” Harry insisted, moving out of her way, “Come on, let’s grab you some water instead.”

“I don’t deserve you Harry, you’re too pure for this world.”

***

Harry was restless, he stood on the balcony of his room, staring at the starry skies of Italy, over thinking all the mistakes he’d made in the last four months. He felt dreadful for not being at the trial, he didn’t even know what the outcome was, Ashley hadn’t called or texted to let him know. He dialled her number quickly before he had the time to change his mind, she answered pretty quickly. “Hey baby.” He whispered, holding to his ear.

“Hey.” She replied softly.

“How did it go today?” Harry asked, knowing he had let her down.

“He got twelve months.” Ashley told him, cradling her baby bump as she snacked on a pot of cookie dough ice cream.

“That’s good isn’t it?” Harry replied.

“It was pretty shit actually H, his barrister tore our relationship to pieces,” Ashley sighed, “We haven’t publicly addressed the rumours so I assumed Will filled him in on everything, but he knew stuff that only a handful of people were aware of.” Ashley told him, meaning the baby.

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Nothing really, just little things.” She told him, “When are you coming home H?”

Harry paused, if he was honest, he didn’t have a clue, “Soon baby, I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time H, I haven’t seen you since February, I needed you there today.” her voice began to wobble as tears formed in her eyes.

“I know love, my head’s been a bit all over the place, I needed to get out of the city.” Harry explained, holding his head in his hand.

“Harry you were in LA for three months, thats a fucking massive city.” Ashley told him angrily, “Ever since we went into lockdown I’ve been picking up the pieces of what you left behind, for two months the only person I’ve had contact with has been Daisy, who is now four, in case you had forgotten that.”

“I know I’ve been stupid Ash, I’ll make it up to you both I promise.” Harry replied, his voice now wobbling too.

“Don’t make empty promises we both know you can’t keep.” Ashley sobbed, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore H, you mean the world to me and it’s tearing me up inside. I’m not sure if I can be that person.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she told him the cold hard truth.

“Don’t say that Ash, please don’t do this.” Harry replied.

“Let me go H, please just let me go.” Ashley whispered, she ended the call, the phone slipping straight from her hand, she was broken, they were broken.

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #one direction memes #best friend harry #harry styles fanfic #niall horan #harry styles lockscreen #harry styles layout

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sittinginacornerihaunted · 4 years

Text

august

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

content warnings: none? i’m pretty sure

word count: 3,153

a/n: i changed the ages of spencer and reader to 26 and 20 just because i didn’t like her being 19. in case anyone gets confused :)

chapter 2

I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you.

I woke up groggy and absolutely exhausted. I had gotten maybe an hour of sleep before I needed to get up and ready for my 8 am. I dragged myself from my sheets and pulled my feet one in front of the other. I made it to my closet and opted for the comfiest outfit I could manage without looking completely busted. A sweatshirt and leggings it is. I combed through my hair with my fingers and pulled it into a tight messy bun, trying my best to control the frizz that came from the sweat and humidity of the night before. I walked into the bathroom I shared with Amber, quickly brushing my teeth and performing the quickest skincare routine I could without feeling absolutely disgusting. Thank god I don’t have Criminology class today, I would not want Spencer seeing me like this. Spencer? When did I start calling him Spencer? I shook my head at the thought and threw all of my things into my backpack and made my way into the lounge area. I saw Amber’s things thrown onto the counter and the door to her room shut, hopefully she would feel okay when she woke up later. I filled up my water bottle, not before downing as much water as I could, and proceeded to shove it into the pocket on the side of my bag. Checking my watch, I ran out the door and closed it quietly so as to not wake Amber.

I bounded down the stairs and quickly walked to campus. The apartment complex where I stayed for the semester wasn’t too far from the majority of my classes, but the anxiety of possibly being late always drove me to walk at an accelerated pace. I walked past the trees and the grassy knolls that littered the campus. The atmosphere of the land combined with the old, beautiful architecture of the college buildings made it feel so… romantic. Well, that’s something to keep me distracted from this wicked hangover. Fuck, was I still a little drunk? Maybe I should’ve skipped class this morning. No matter, I was already on my way and I knew that I would’ve felt incredibly guilty if I hadn’t gone. As I briskly walked to class, I passed by other students and faculty members along the way. I got lost in thought about what they might be like. It’s incredible that we all have our own intricate and complicated lives. It’s impossible to completely understand that everyone else has a life just as complex and detailed as my own.

I finally made it to the main campus building in which my Journalism History and Cultures class would take place. I’ve never been completely sure what I wanted to major in or what I wanted my career to look like, but I randomly picked Journalism last year and I actually really love it. I’ve always known that I wanted to do something important with my life and I’ve always enjoyed writing, so I guess it just kinda made sense to me. I walked down the long hallway decorated with doors and windows and bulletin boards. I made my way to the classroom I required and pushed open the door with a deep breath. I was early, but not so early that I beat my professor there. I looked down at the ground as I made my way to the front of the room, taking a seat in the third row, as usual. I looked up and smiled at my professor to say hi and he smiled back politely. I began taking out my things and more students filed into the classroom. Before I knew it, class had started and ended in a hungover (and maybe a little drunken) haze. I took a swig from my water bottle before standing up and placing a hand on my desk to steady myself. I threw my bag onto my back and trudged out of the classroom, into the hallway, and out of the building.

The rest of the day seemed to go incredibly fast while simultaneously going excruciatingly slow. See, this is why I don’t party. I always feel like absolute shit the next morning and it affects my entire day. I wonder how Amber’s holding up. I realized I hadn’t really talked to her all day so I made my way back to our shared space in order to catch up with her. It was almost a guarantee that she would be home because during the day, she’s either in class or asleep in our apartment. I looked down at my phone to text her and ask if she wanted to do a girl’s night in, but before I could type anything I ran into something- wait, no, someone.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry I-” I began to fluster immediately before I looked up and noticed who it was that I ran into. I took a shallow breath and my eyes widened before I gained whatever composure I could. “Dr. Reid, I- I’m so sorry I was just-”

“Spencer, please, and it’s okay,” he brushed it off, “don’t worry about it.” We both stood facing each other for a moment. Why didn’t we just say our apologies and keep walking? “Um, how are you, Y/N? Did you end up getting any sleep last night? Or should I say this morning.” He laughed shyly as he spoke.

“Oh I, um, got like, maybe an hour of sleep. Coffee is a godsend, honestly,” I replied.

“Don’t I know it.” He said. I looked at him meekly, not sure what to say. He looked back into my eyes and I swear, his gaze could bore a hole through my skull. I could get lost in those eyes forever and I wouldn’t bother trying to find my way out. Y/N, stop it! I couldn’t stop it. Because as long as I looked into his eyes, he looked right back into mine. My spiraling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his voice. “Are you okay?” He questions.

“Oh!” I jumpstart back into reality. “Yeah, I’m fine, I guess I zoned out from not getting enough sleep. I’m hoping I can catch up tonight.” I laugh and I look down, hoping that if I stare hard enough, I could bury my face into the pavement.

“That’s probably a good idea. I hope you don’t regret staying out so late though.” He says quickly, so quickly I almost missed it.

“No! I don’t, it’s just always hard the next day, you know? But it was nice to go out, for once.” I try to match his pacing, which isn’t too difficult, considering that the anxiety of the situation sped up my speech significantly.

“Yeah, I get that.” He says and we begin to just… Stare at each other again.

Not wanting to make the situation more awkward, I hear myself beginning to talk again, “Um, I should probably get home, I haven’t seen Amber all day and I want to make sure she’s still among the living, haha, um… It was nice seeing you again, Dr. Reid.” I begin walking away, in a similar fashion to last night.

“Spencer.” He corrects me.

“Spencer.” I say. I start walking away but not for long. I hear footsteps behind me, a voice yell “Y/N!” and a hand grabbed my arm. I turn around pulled by the force exerted from the hand. I’m sure I looked shocked because the hand quickly let go of me. Spencer’s face looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” he rings his hands, “I was wondering if you would want my number? Um, I listed my email on the syllabus but it’s actually a lot easier to reach me through my personal cell phone, if you had questions about class or homework or… something.” He flustered through his words, why was he flustered? I’m the one who gets nervous here. His words put goosebumps along the back of my neck and the sides of my arms. I take a deep breath before answering, in hopes it would calm my nerves and steady my voice.

“Um, sure! That would actually be great because I already had a few questions about some of the material and I was going to email you but I haven’t had much time today and I guess I probably could’ve asked you now but I should probably get home so-” Is it possible for me to speak any faster?

“Y/N.” He stops me before I can embarrass myself even more. “Here, I’ll put it into your phone for you.” I pause for a beat before unlocking my phone and extending my arm to hand it to him. He types the letters and numbers necessary into my phone and I can’t help but linger on his hands. How were his hands so attractive? Is that normal? He gently hands my phone back to me and I smile and say “Thank you, Dr. Reid,” not before he looks at me expectantly and raises his eyebrows. “Um, Spencer. Thank you, Spencer.” I smile as he looks into my eyes one more time.

“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow?” He questions.

“See you tomorrow.” I confirm with a tight-lipped smile before turning and walking away. I try my hardest to walk at a normal pace, but as soon as I can be sure that he is no longer watching, I nearly sprint to my apartment.

“Amber!” I yell as I cross the threshold into the apartment’s living room and nearly slam the door shut. “Amber, are you alive?” I call out, jokingly, before I hear movement coming from her bedroom.

“Yes, I’m alive and not deaf. You’re far too loud for the morning.” She groans and rubs her eyes, walking toward me.

“Amber, it’s 3 pm.” I state bluntly.

“Are you fucking serious?” She hurtles across the room to dramatically grab my phone and confirm the time. “Goddamn it, I have so much work to do.” She rubs her face and flops onto the couch. “Whatever, I’ve waited this long to do it, I can wait a little longer.”

I look at her with what I’m sure was a ridiculous look on my face and say “Girly. You-” I stop myself before telling her what to do. She always knows what works best for her when it comes to school, so who am I to question that? “Nevermind.” I sit down, cross-legged, on the opposite side of the couch. “Hey, do you want to have a girl’s night? I was gonna text you earlier but I- um, got distracted. I could go out and grab us some snacks and we could watch Clueless? It’s on Netflix now!” She knows Clueless is my favorite movie of all time and I think I’ve forced her to watch it enough times now that it’s her favorite too. I looked at her with as innocent a face I could and she rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Okay, sure. That sounds really good actually. But only if you buy the snacks! And get me my favorite ice cream?” Her voice raises the inflection at the end of her question and now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Of course, dummy. I’ll head to Wawa and I’ll grab a bunch of stuff. Text me with what you want.” I bend down to kiss her on the cheek and quickly turn, grab my keys, and head out the door.

---

“So,” Amber begins as the end credits of the movie begin to roll, “Who was that hot guy you were talking to last night?”

I nearly choked on the popcorn I was eating. “What? Oh, um, it- I-”

“He seemed really into you. I could feel the tension all the way across the room.” She takes a spoonful of her pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

“I thought you were dancing with what’s-his-name across the room, how did you see what I was doing?” I try to throw her off.

“I am much more perceptive than you think, girly.” She pokes my thigh playfully. “Now, spill! The guy I was dancing with was not really anything. Once I sobered up even the slightest bit, he wasn’t that cute. Or that good of a dancer. It was a little bit of a disappointment but I don’t care, I wanna know what happened with you!” She pokes me a few more times, which I will admit, was not a bad interrogation strategy on account of I am extremely ticklish.

“Okay, okay!” I swat her hands away and secure my pint of ice cream in my lap. “He, um, he is actually my Criminology professor.”

“Excuse me? What was your Criminology professor doing at a student bar in the middle of first week parties?”

“That’s what I asked too! He said his coworker dragged him there or something. I don’t know what they were doing beforehand or why he wanted to go there, but,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“What were you guys talking about? And don’t think I forgot about you going outside with him later! I was blackout but I always remember everything.” That was true, Amber had the memory of an elephant. But like, an elephant who also has a photographic memory.

“I don’t know we were just kinda talking about nothing! I was still pretty drunk so right now, I’m just hoping what I said made sense and wasn’t too embarrassing.”

“Lame! Next time you talk to him, and I know there will be a next time because that was too interesting for there to not be a next time, I expect there to be a lot more juicy details!”

“Well, uh,” I begin again, “I actually talked to him today.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I ran into him while I was on my way here earlier and we talked for a little bit. It was kinda awkward but I don’t know, it was weird. He gave me his number?” I say it like a question and watch Amber’s eyes widen.

“He gave you his number?” At this point, Amber was eating popcorn and looking at me like I was the movie.

“Yeah, he said it was for if I have questions about class, do you think that’s weird?”

“No, it’s cute! Wait, how old is this guy? I thought he was a student when you were talking to him last night and I can get behind a hot professor but a huge age gap and predatory behavior is not cute.” Her tone turned serious and I quickly dismissed her concerns.

“No no, he’s 26! Don’t worry about that.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Isn’t it like, against the rules to date your professor? Not that we’re dating! And not that I was thinking about us dating! I’m sure he sticks to the rules I doubt he would ever do anything like that and it’s not like I’m one for breaking the rules I-”

“Slow down, speed racer!” She says as I try my hardest to figure out how to breathe at a normal rate “I’m pretty sure it’s not technically against the rules, but yeah, I guess it’s frowned upon and pretty taboo to date your teacher. But I mean, you two seemed to really get on last night. And it doesn’t make sense to stop something that has the potential to be great just because some people don’t think it’s ‘acceptable,’ whatever that means.”

“You think it has the potential to be great? I mean, I just met him yesterday. We barely talked, I barely know him!” I feel myself beginning to freak out a little bit.

“Hey, hey, I mean, you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want, but I know that I saw something between you too. Maybe it’s just a friendship or maybe it’s nothing! I just want you to be happy, you know that, right Y/N?” She puts her hands on my knees in an effort to comfort me. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” I smile softly at her, “I guess I just, I don’t even know what our relationship is right now. I mean, he’s definitely attractive, I’d have to be blind to miss that. But he’s my professor, you know? I guess I’d have to be completely positive that he feels the same way for me to ever initiate something.” Amber nods her head. “You know what is kinda strange though? He insists on me calling him Spencer. Is that weird? I guess I just feel weird because I’m most comfortable calling my professors by their titles or something more formal. I don’t know, I don’t know. It’s not that big of a deal I’m sure I’m just overthinking this.”

“Hey,” Amber has always been good at comforting me. “Whatever you are feeling right now, is totally and completely valid. You know I tease you because I love you, but I seriously just want what’s best for you. You seemed really excited last night and I just want you to be happy. I expect to be updated on this regularly, okay?” She laughs and raises her eyebrows at me.

“Of course,” I giggle and spoon a mouthful of ice cream into my mouth. “Now, I think it’s time we watch Legally Blonde, huh?” Amber laughs and I grab the remote and turn the TV to the timeless classic we both adore.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Amber said about the potential of something great. Did it really seem that special to Amber? I trust her judgement, but as of right now, there’s nothing happening between me and Spencer. He’s just my professor and I’m just his student who happened to run into him twice outside of class. And who couldn’t stop staring into his eyes as he spoke. And who could barely breathe when he said my name. And who couldn’t focus when he talked because his hands moved with his words. And who now calls him Spencer, apparently. Do I even want something to happen between us? Sure, he’s handsome, like, really handsome, but he’s my professor. I’ve never really been one for dating anyways.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the film playing in front of me. I mean, he did give me his number. That’s gotta count for something, right? I look at my phone and the clock reads 12:43 am. I take another breath and do my best to leave those thoughts for tomorrow. It’s too late to be thinking clearly anyways. I grab the blanket that was hanging on the back of the couch and throw it over mine and Amber’s laps. I relax my shoulders and melt into the couch as I let the sounds of Reese Witherspoon and Luke Wilson take over my senses.

taglist: @pumpkin-reads @haylaansmi

#m #mari writes #august #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #cm #criminal minds

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kjrosswrites · 3 years

Text

Trust, Dean Winchester & Wendigos- Part 1

Word count: 3409

Summary: Rylie gets a call from investigators wanting to know about her missing friend. They turn out to be Sam and Dean hunting a Wendigo. Rylie and Dean have a crush on each other. A little fluff. This is my first time posting any fanfics!! I’d appreciate any feedback. The character Rylie in this short story is similar to my MC in a manuscript I’m working on. ☺️ (also I’m really bad at titles 🤪)

My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s an unknown number. I answer on the off chance it could be about my missing friend, Amber.

“Hello?” I answer, out of breath from my run.

“Is this Rylie Evans?” a man’s husky voice asks.

“It is.” I try to hide the fact that I’m out of breath.

“Do you mind if I ask you some questions about your missing friend?”

“Who is asking?” I know one week in to be more guarded. Some people will prey on those of us going through a hard time.

“Agent Tyler, Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.”

“I would be happy to speak with you, agent. Could we perhaps meet in person so that I can verify you’re who you say you are?”

“Of course, name the place.”

I give him the address of a coffee shop off I-40.

Two hours later, my hands are wrapped around a warm, steaming cup of coffee that I haven’t touched. My stomach is in knots. It’s been a long few days of moments like this, going over every detail of the last time I saw Amber and what I knew about her camping trip.

The door dings, I lookup to see two tall men in suits coming through it. I make eye contact with them to make sure they notice me.

I can’t help but notice that they’re both incredibly handsome, and don’t look like your typical agents. The shorter guy, though he has to be at least 6’1’’, has a little scruff on his face. The taller guy has medium length chestnut hair.

The man with darker brown hair and hazel eyes smiles at me softly. I shift in my seat.

“Do you happen to be Rylie Evans?” I hear his slight southern drawl that is definitely not Tennessean, again, and recognize it immediately.

I stand, extending my hand, “Agent Tyler?”

“You can call me Dean. This is my partner, Sam Kramer.”

Dean gestures for me to have a seat back in the booth. I reluctantly sit down. Regretting my choice of jeans and a flannel shirt, I tug at my curly auburn hair absentmindedly. Rubbing the ends of a strand between my chipped nail polished fingers.

Sam clears his throat, “So, Rylie, do you know where your friend was last seen?”

“Yes- as I’ve gone over with the Sheriff’s Department and the Park Rangers. She was camping at South Cumberland State Park. She was last seen by a park ranger there when she parked her car. I last saw her the day before that and I helped her pack.”

“Does she usually take solo backcountry camping trips?” Dean asks.

“No. She just went through a break-up. She wanted to clear her head and be alone. I tried to go with her.”

“I’m sorry that you have to feel that guilt, then.” Dean says.

The waitress comes and the men order their coffee.

I sip my coffee that’s finally cool enough to drink.

“Why would I feel guilty? Has there been a lead?” I meet Dean’s hazel eyes.

“Well, possibly. We have an idea. The reason the TBI is now involved is because it seems there’s a bit of a pattern of missing persons in this area.”

“You guys think it’s a serial killer?” I fight back tears.

“We don’t know- there’s odd circumstances. Have you heard anything out of the norm lately? Reports of hearing someone cry for help that didn’t seem quite right?” Sam asks.

“A man is trying to lure people by pretending to be hurt? No. I don’t understand.”

I’m frustrated now, and flustered. Dean’s hands are far too close to mine on this table. I pull mine back.

“I know it’s confusing, but we can’t give out too much information. Please, stay out of the woods at night and give us a call if you hear any grumblings.” Dean says as he puts a card on the table.

“Wait!” I nearly shout. The patrons near us turn to look. I blush.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t heard anything about other people going missing. Where are those reports coming from?” I ask, lowering my voice.

Sam and Dean exchange a look. “They’re coming from all along this region. Every few months, someone goes missing in a heavily wooded area. Along the Craighead Caverns cave system.” Dean says.

I blink, not understanding. “The caves have something to do with it?”

“Maybe. It’s complex.” Sam says, giving Dean a pointed look.

“So you called me here to ask me if I had heard of anyone being lured by someone pretending to be hurt?” I furrow my brow. “Is this come kind of joke? Preying on me because my best friend is missing? Y’all don’t even really look like cops.”

I get up to leave, genuinely upset now. I throw their card towards Dean and stomp off.

When I get to my car tears are properly flowing down my face. I’m fishing through my purse for my keys and I can’t find them.

Frustrated, I dump my bag onto the asphalt, bending down to search for them.

“Looking for these?” I hear Dean’s voice from behind me.

I whirl around, heat all over my face.

“You left them in the booth.” Dean stoops down to pick up the contents of my purse.

“I can do it- thank you.” I scoop it all back into my bag quickly.

“Here you go.” Dean holds out my keys, lipstick and pulls a handkerchief from his pocket.

I look at him incredulously. “I’m fine, thank you.” I wipe the tears from under my eyes with my hand.

He raises his eyebrows and takes a step back.

“Alright, look, you’re right to be upset. We are not really TBI. We’re hunters. We’re tracking a Wendigo.”

“Hunters?? What’s a wendigo?” I back away him.

“It’s a cryptid type thing. They hunt folks. Impersonate humans. You know all those things that have a lot of folklore and discourse? It’s all real. Vampires. Werewolves. Demons. We hunt them.”

“You think my friend was killed by a Wendigo?”

“Maybe, or something like it. Whatever it is- we don’t think it’s your standard Ted Bundy.” He pauses. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“But- no remains have been found?” I question.

“If it’s what we think it is, there wouldn’t be. Her bags and tent were recovered right?” Dean looks towards my feet, staring at my worn down boots.

“Yes.” I say. My voice breaking again. Dean still has the hankie in his large hand. I look at it instead of his face.

“The other theory is she got lost? Would she do that without any supplies?” Dean looks up from the ground, I’m still staring at his hand.

“No. She wouldn’t. She’s smart.” A tear hits my face. I look up to meet Dean’s eyes with my green tear filled ones.

He extends the hankie again, a sympathetic look on his face. I take it this time and wipe away the tears. It smells like him, woodsy with a hint of whiskey.

“Thank you.” He nods at me like he’s done this a million times before.

“The lore about Wendigos is that they make their prey last. There could be a possibility of your friend being alive. I don’t want to give you false hope, but it’s possible.”

“How on earth could you find her?”

I search his face. I have an odd sense of comfort being near him. Like we’ve met before.

He clears his throat. “We’ve done it before. You have to go to the last place you think the thing was, to gank it.”

“Y’all are gonna go camping the same place she went missing? Are you insane?”

He grins. “Many people would say that I am, yes. That’s why we wanted to talk to you. Find out exactly where she was. We’ll go tomorrow night.”

“I couldn’t describe to you where her campsite was. I’d need to go back.”

Dean waggles his eyebrows. “Yeah we kinda figured that. Look, I know it’s a lot to ask. I’ll buy you beer and dinner tonight.”

“You want me to come hunting a mythical creature that I just found out existed-with you and your partner who are strangers to me for beer and dinner?” I laugh despite myself.

“He’s my brother, actually. No, you wouldn’t hunt. You’d just show us where the campsite is and go back home. We can’t have you in danger, too.”

“No way in hell am I going out there just to show you when my friend could be alive. I’ll stay. I can handle myself.”

Sam walks out of the coffee shop and throws his hands up at Dean. “What the hell, Dean? I thought you were coming back in.”

Sam stops short when he sees us. I’ve got my hands on my hips and Dean is standing a little too close to me.

Sam looks between us with a confused expression.

“No, Sammy. Rylie is going camping with us tomorrow night.”

“She is not.” Sam immediately rejects the idea.

“Y'all need me to show you where exactly she camped. The only way I’m doing that is if I stay, too. Otherwise you can forget it.”

Sam sighs heavily. “You told her what we’re hunting?”

Dean gives a small grin to his brother, shrugging. “She wasn’t going to help us unless we told the truth, Sammy.”

“So who’s buying my beer?” I smile, despite myself. Something about these boys is comforting now that I know the truth.

“Oh, that’s all you, Dean.” Sam claps his brother on the shoulder.

“Anywhere with a good pool table?” Dean looks at me.

“Yeah, I can text you the address and meet you there later. I need to do a few things. Can I text the number on the card?” Dean hands me the card back.

“Yep. We’ll see ya then.” Dean smiles at me, his dimples showing.

Butterflies stir in my stomach as I return the smile.

“See you then.”

I open the door to my Toyota Tacoma and climb in. I watch Sam and Dean cross the parking lot to a black 1967 Impala. I smile. My mom’s first car was an Impala. Sam and Dean’s is in perfect shape, though.

Three hours later I’m back in the truck heading to Joe’s bar and grill. I pull in and notice the Impala is already there. Dean had texted me back nearly immediately and said “See ya there, sweetheart.”

I walk through the doors wearing the jeans I was earlier, and a black long sleeved blouse. I see Sam at the pool table. Dean at a high top table off to the side.

There’s not many other people in here and I scan the room for familiar faces, as I’d rather my family not know I’m hanging out with two random guys.

Thankfully, I don’t see anyone I know. Dean makes eye contact with me and stands up. He grins, walking towards me. I observe his bow legged gait and can’t help but grin back.

I’ve always been a sucker for bow legged boys in flannel shirts. His shirt is red flannel and I notice a brown leather jacket hanging off the back of his chair.

“Hey there, whatcha drinkin?” He greets me.

I smile. “Hi, should probably stick to beer.”

“I got you. You look nice, by the way.”

I blush, “Thank you.”

“Go have a seat and watch Sammy hustle. I’ll get us beer.” He gestures to the table he was sitting at. I nod and cross the room to sit. Sam waves at me.

They both seem so comfortable here, as if they’re here all the time. That strikes me as odd, because I know people will be talking about this tomorrow. We have a population of maybe three thousand.

Dean walks over with three beers and sits next to me. “Thank you.”

I open my beer and take a sip.

Dean does the same, when he’s done he leans closer than necessary to say, “Are you sure you want to come with us tomorrow? The weather is supposed to be pretty cold.”

“I’m positive. She’d go if it were me.”

I flip my hair off my shoulder to my back as I take another sip of beer. Dean watches as I do this and I can see his jaw clench. I feel heat in my cheeks.

“How long have y’all been friends?”

“Since highschool.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle and suddenly feel so guilty for flirting with this guy when I should be focused on finding Amber.

“I hope we can find her. We see enough loss. It’d be nice to help a reunion happen.” Dean looks over to his brother.

I’m trying to not get choked up again so I follow his gaze just in time to see Sam win. The man he was playing looks upset as he hands over the money.

Sam walks over to us, “Money for dinner.” He grins.

“Hunting monsters doesn’t pay well?” I ask, eager for a subject change.

“Not jack.” Dean mutters.

“We do it because no one else does.” Sam explains.

“We lost our parents to monsters.”

“And too many damn friends.” Dean says. “That’s why I want to find yours, Rylie.” Dean stands and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I hope we can.” I look up at him.

“Another round?” My beer is hardly touched but I agree and ask for a burger and fries too.

I quickly finish my beer while Dean is at the jukebox.

“Oh, here we go.” Sam smiles.

“Does he have bad taste in music?”

“Not bad, just, mostly dad rock.” Sam chuckles, his big dimples showing.

I smile back. Sam seems like a sweet guy. Then I hear Blue Oyster Cult start playing and I understand what Sam means.

Dean comes back, “Don't worry I picked several we can dance to, later.” He winks at me.

I smile back, blushing again.

“Since when do you dance?”

“Shut up, Sam. I love to dance.”

The next hour or so flies by and I find myself more and more comfortable with them. I have a huge crush on Dean, especially after he’s had a few drinks and being goofy.

I put a Taylor swift song on the jukebox and Sam is laughing.

“You still wanna dance to T-Swift?” I ask, holding out my hand.

Dean groans. “Fine. Because you asked.” He smiles.

He takes my hand and pulls me closer to him, hands on my waist.

I gasp at the quick change of movements and try to even my breathing. I look up at him. I’m 5’4 so my head barely reaches his chest. I try not to let my mind wander to how good it would feel to rest my head there.

It has been years since I’ve had this much genuine fun with a guy. I put my arms around his neck and sway to the music with him, smiling.

“See? I can get down to some T-Swift.” He smiles, gazing into my eyes.

I swallow. I want to lean up and kiss him. At that exact moment, someone changed the song to George Strait.

“Damn. We were just getting our stride.” Dean says.

“We were.” I reply.

His hands are still on my hips. He gives them the tiniest squeeze before he lets go, but I noticed it.

“Dean. I don’t want to be a buzzkill but we do have a long day ahead tomorrow. We really should get some sleep.” Sam says when we return to the table.

“You’re right.” I say.

Dean looks bummed. “Fine.”

“I’ll go pay.” Sam says.

I walk towards the door and realize I’m probably too buzzed to drive.

Dean opens the door to the parking lot and the cold hits us like a wall.

“Holy shit.” I say wrapping my arms around myself.

“Where’s your coat?” He asks.

“Didn’t bring one.” I grin.

“I’ll go start your car and you can sit in ours while it warms up?”

“That’s sweet. But about that, I don’t think I should drive home.”

He grins. “Too many beers?”

“A few.”

“We can take you home. Or you can bunk with us. I’ll make Sammy share his bed.”

I’m so tempted to take him on that offer. “You can take me home, thank you.” I smile.

I think about my mom seeing a classic car with two beautiful men in it dropping me off. We don’t live together, but I’m right across the street from her. I cringe at the thought.

“On second thought maybe I’ll bunk with y’all.” I say once we’re in the warmth of the Impala.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean turns around to look at me.

“My mom lives across the street. I’d rather y’all bring me back to my truck in the morning and then meet you where y’all are staying to go to the campsite.”

“Don’t want to explain who we are to your mom?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that conversation would go over too well.” I snort.

Sam opens the passenger door.

“My god it’s cold.” He mutters.

“Oh, hey Rylie, I didn’t know you were riding with us.”

“Too buzzed to drive, Sam.”

“And bunking in my bed.” Dean grins at his brother.

“What?”

“Sam she’s been through a lot the last week. This will be easier for her.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.” I almost whisper.

“Oh no, you’re okay. I just don’t want to have Dean the blanket hog in the bed.”

“I’m not opposed to sharing your bed.” I look at Dean.

Sam clears his throat and Dean has a shocked expression on his face.

“Oh-okay.” Dean stutters, blushing.

I smile, happy I finally surprised him.

“I can get my own room.”

“Don’t be silly, Sam. I’ll be fully clothed.”

At the motel, I turn on the TV and try to find something.

“I’m gonna head to the gas station to get supplies.” Sam says abruptly, walking out the door.

I blush. “He didn’t need to do that.”

“He didn’t?” Dean asks, sitting down next to me, our thighs touching.

I look over at him. “I’m not trying to get in your pants, Dean. Not that I’m saying no forever. I really like you, if you can’t tell. It’s just not the right time.” I put my hand on his knee.

“I get it.” He sighs.

I put my head on his chest and sigh. It feels like I thought it would, firm but soft. He smells so damn good.

He runs a hand through my hair. I pull back and look up at him. He moves his hand from my head to my chin, tilting it toward him. I close the distance between us and kiss him softly. He kisses me back, deepening the kiss. I move my hand up his leg slightly.

He breaks the kiss. I blink up at him, blushing. “Did I do something wrong?”

He chuckles. “Hell, no. It was too good. I need to break if we’re supposed to sleep next to each other tonight.”

“I don’t mean to lead you on-“

Dean puts his finger to my lips.

“You aren’t leading me on. You told me you didn’t want to have sex tonight. I wanted to kiss you. Even if you hadn’t prefaced it, we just met. I had no expectations.”

I hug him tightly without thinking.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

“You don’t need to thank me for respecting you. I’m sorry someone else made you feel like that.” He strokes my hair.

I lean up and kiss his cheek.

“I am actually super sleepy.” I say.

He chuckles. “Me too. Do you want to sleep in one of my shirts? I’m sure it’d be long enough.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

He rummages around his bag, tossing me a worn T-shirt. I go to the bathroom to change. It comes well below my butt and I don’t feel too exposed.

I climb in bed where Dean already is. I pull back the covers and see he didn’t change.

“You’re sleeping in jeans?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, when we’re on the road I don’t change. I like to be ready.”

I nod, knowing there must be a reason behind that. He holds out his arm in a gesture for me to lay with him. I smile and scoot over. I fall asleep faster than I have since Amber went missing.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #self publishing #new adult #romance #supernatural #supernatural family #spn

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bbhyeoliskooks · 4 years

Text

/* 𝐈𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 *\

It’s strange that even though Taehyun doesn’t return your feelings, he becomes jealous when another boy grows closer to you.

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Pairing: Taehyun x Reader (female)

Genre: 2 cups of fluff and like three tablespoons of angst

Warnings: Puking, Attempt at drugging in punch ._.

Song: It Might Be You

(Guys! Guess what. I’m making another unrequited love au yay)

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Of course, moving on was going to be difficult. A big blow to the heart obviously wasn’t a good thing, but you knew you had to do keep going forward or else everything would be awkward. This was what you prepared for, but it was going to be hard when you thought of his words every second.

A lot of people would laugh at you for being so weak under pressure, but you confessed to Taehyun just a month ago when he asked you if you possibly liked him.

After a year of hiding your feelings from your best friend, you couldn’t take it anymore and you told him what you truly felt. You should’ve known better not to say anything about your foolish love, but you weren’t able to keep what was forbidden from him any longer.

Just the way he would brightly smile at you was enough to give a tremor in the knees because you were so in love. You couldn’t go a minute without thinking about how sweet he was like an amber flower and he would envelope your happiest dreams in a vibrant, heavenly-like scenery as you reached out to take his hand. You swore that every time you would take grasp of his hand, he would pull away no matter how tight you held on which caused you to wake up with a deep frown on your face.

Quickly it became very unbearable, and you loudly burst, telling him that you wanted to give your relationship a chance.

It was obvious that he didn’t like you as much as you did by the dumbfounded look on his face when you told him, but you hoped that somewhere deep in your heart that he longed for you as well. Your delusions were quickly shut down as he softly reminded you that he only felt platonic feelings towards you and desired to continue being your best friend since you two had a lot of history with each other. You didn’t know how you did it, maybe by the adrenaline or so, but you managed to keep a fake smile on your face through the day before coming home and letting tears out from how much you wanted to turn back the time and just say no when he asked you.

It was a good thing that he shut you down before the heart grew fonder, but you hated it more than anything. More than anything, you wanted to hold him in your arms while you watched the gleaming stars of the night fall down into the palm of your hand, reassuring that he was the only one for you. It was a shame that you couldn’t get what you wanted, and you had to accept the fate of destiny before you moved on.

It was considered strange for someone who was just rejected, but you actually made an effort to get over Taehyun each day. You cursed yourself for falling in love with your best friend knowing that it would be hard to find someone who you really liked enough to replace him. By making those attempts, you went out more- going to parties that everyone was invited to, talking to those out of class, and calling the boys that had a bad reputation for playing with other girls’ hearts. You did things that you didn’t like just because you were hurt.

Eventually, your strong friendship with Taehyun had grown apart each day since you tried to avoid seeing him. You wondered if he was disappointed in you for acting this way, but perhaps this was the only way to purge your feelings. That led you to try even harder than before because you wanted to salvage what little you had with him. Despite your efforts, you would find his breathtaking smile in the most saccharine of dreams you had at night while you soundly slept.

It only made you unhappy because you had put a limit on seeing him each week as well as ditching him every time he asked to hang out with you.

Today was a bit different than the others, the only thing being that you wanted to throw up whatever you had in your system. You got up from bed that warm morning with a lightheaded feeling and a parched, dehydrated throat. You felt horrible because all of the energy was drained out of you even after a great rest and decided to take some syrup medicine for colds like this. It seemed strange to you because you slept for a good amount, maybe ten hours at most if you counted correctly.

Your stomach was bubbling when you drank a little bit, although not the good kind. There was a big exam today that you studied for, so you knew you couldn’t skip class just to stay at home and get better. Yes, it wasn’t wise at all, but you didn’t want to miss the test that you had been stressing over all week.

Not to mention a party today that a specific someone invited you to go as their partner. You had to go because you would grow guilty if you saw him sad the next day. Lately, you had been talking and found out that you had many things in common. His name was Min Minho, a boy who was from the other class and somehow became your study partner. It was fun to go on little dates with him for just the two of you, but it was as if your heart was only dormant when you were with him. You didn’t feel butterflies when you saw him like with Taehyun, but perhaps with each time you spend with him, your heart would flutter. You were forcing your heart to like him, your feelings being as real as much as the way you denied you loved another boy who was your best friend.

---

You found yourself dozing off in class even if you had drunk a few cups of coffee from your favorite cafe. Usually it worked if you had one cup, but it wasn’t enough to energize you, and you kind of overdosed drinking three. For a few times during different classes, you went to the bathroom just to throw up nothing because you didn’t have breakfast. You thought it would help, but it went the opposite of what you expected.

In times like this, Taehyun would scold you while feeding you a lot of food during lunch that he purposefully brought from home, a little meaningful thing that he always did when he somehow guessed that you hadn’t eaten yet. You hoped that he wouldn’t nag you for today when you two sat together to eat lunch as promised on the rooftop.

You walked out of the bathroom with a frown engraved on your lips. You were too busy thinking about how you would fall over if you didn’t sleep that you didn’t notice that someone was waiting for you, leaning against the wall of the girls’ bathroom. You bumped right into him, tripping over your feet and shutting your eyes at the impact of the floor hitting your bottom.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Your head was incredibly dizzy, and you stood up slowly from the spot on the tile. The person helped you up a little bit with a soft grip on your arm, and you recognized that scent from anywhere. You opened your eyes and gasped when you made eye contact with Taehyun and involuntarily slapped his hand away.

He gazed at you anxiously, realizing that you looked a bit heated and cleared his throat at your panicked stare directed at him. “Y/N, you feel too warm. Are you sick? You never go to the bathroom in the morning unless you need to throw up.”

You shook your head, holding in the urge to throw up again so you wouldn’t seem sick in front of him. You couldn’t let him check up on you daily after he rejected you a week ago. It was ridiculous, but you wanted to save enough dignity to meet his eyes every time you saw him.

You found it funny how you prioritized your pride more than telling the truth.

“I’m feeling fine, Hyun. I should go back to class now, see you later?” You didn’t give him time to answer before rushing away using all of the strength in your legs. He glanced at your direction, sighing in disappointment as he watched you drift away from him for the nth time that week. “She always says that, but it never carries through.”

---

You got ready that night after a few hours of rest and homework, but that made you feel even worse than earlier. You thought that catching up on a little bit of rest would heal you a bit to keep what little food you ate earlier, but that didn’t work. You just felt sicker when you got up from bed, however you couldn’t leave Minho alone. You’d be so guilty even if you called him to let him know that you were sick.

Taking a few more teaspoons of medicine and chugging a bottle of water, you wondered if Taehyun was really going to be there. He didn’t go to these events, but you heard that a girl from his homeroom asked him to come so she wouldn’t be alone. This irked you since he said yes immediately, but you could only be curious. Maybe he liked her which is why he agreed and that hurt you much more than the rejection. You should’ve known with the way he didn’t hesitate to accept.

The place was full of sweaty teenagers who were dancing in every corner. You pretended to realize that it wasn’t your thing, but you knew this whole time, getting angry at yourself for not staying at home. It was so warm and stuffy that you wondered if you would ever be able to find Minho in this mess. You hated that you were in the middle of everything, and walked over to the drink section when a familiar figure walked up to you.

“Y/N! My baby is here!” Your tired mind was hazy with burning thoughts, but you knew that voice straight away when it passed through your ears. It was Minho, but why did he call you his baby? You weren’t in a relationship with him, so he had no right to call you that as of now.

You turned back to see him holding one red solo cup in his hand that meant he had gotten punch from the table. You were going to yell at him for calling you that, but you knew that it would come off as rude when you had been leading him on this whole time. Maybe tomorrow was the a better time to remind him that you weren’t looking for a relationship when the music was blasting so much so that he was barely able to hear you. ”Uh, hi? It’s good to see you as well, Minho.” You could hear your voice dripping with passive aggressiveness, but he didn’t seem to actually catch on how pissed you sounded with your clenched smile.

He stepped closer to you with a smirk on his face as he gripped onto your arm. It was too tight for your comfort, but you couldn’t get out of his grasp. He raised an amused eyebrow at you who surrendered easily and fell against his chest as your strength had failed you. He smugly chuckled at your weakness and patted the top of your head despite your muffled sounds of protest. “Take a drink, baby. You are a bit tired and I think it will definitely make you feel better.”

Many alarms were going off in your head, but all that was ringing through your ears was to be polite. Minho was your study buddy, you knew that you could trust him as always. He wouldn’t drug you or something like that, right? Oh, if you just looked at the evidence before then you would see how much you were a fool for not thinking that he had ulterior moves.

You lazily opened your mouth a little, feeling hypnotized by his charming green eyes as he was about to pour the drink. You were waiting for the liquid to fall straight into your lips, but it never came when the grip on your arm suddenly became loose. You rubbed your eyes in shock when you saw Taehyun grab the drink in Minho’s hand causing the both of them to get drenched from the sudden movement. You weren’t able to make sense of it at that moment and thought that Minho was only looking out for your well-being.

Taehyun sprinted up to you as you felt yourself gradually become light each second. His hands were wet from the drink when he took your hand into his, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to go home by yourself because you were already pissed that today was ruined just because you had a tiny little cold. You were sure that the exam went terrible, and now that the two of them were fighting for no reason was not much worse than the two of them compared.

You glared at him and forcefully jerked your hand from him. “Get away from me! Leave me alone, you know you’re only making it worse.” His eyes widened and he stepped towards you with uneasiness in his stance. “Y/N... I’m only trying to help you, but you do all of these things that I tell you not to! Your boyfriend here was trying to drug you, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if I wasn’t here.”

He was in disbelief that you were angry at him when it was supposed to be the other way. Why couldn’t you see how worried he was for you? Especially after he had hurt your feelings unintentionally. He couldn’t stand seeing you sad because of him and tried to give you space so you could move on, but that clearly turned out sour. He did some thinking these past few weeks and realized that all he craved for was your soothing presence. Just for you to be in his arms while he softly sang you to sleep was enough for him, but he couldn’t see it until now.

It was really unfortunate that you had to avoid him to make him discover his feelings, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you had already moved on due to how he treated you this week.

When he went back to class today after talking to you, he knew that you were lying to him when you told him that you weren’t feeling sick. He was planning to grab a little bit of food for you during dinner so you’d feel a bit better, but he was startled when you didn’t answer the door. He cursed himself for not remembering that you were planning to go to the place with Minho when he advised you not to. He always got bad vibes from him, and this just proved his point when he begged you to stop seeing him. He was your boyfriend now, right? Taehyun had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t stop himself from being so when he might’ve lost the chance to be with you.

“Boyfriend?! You think he’s my boyfriend after a month you rejected me?! What are you trying to say?” You clenched your jaw feeling the tension elevate in the atmosphere, growing frustrated at what your best friend was assuming. You were probably overreacting, but after all of the crap that happened, you found this the only way to escape the situation.

He grabbed your hands pleadingly that it would seem desperate to whoever was looking your way. This time you didn’t pull away because your heart was yearning some type of affection from Taehyun even if it was something little like this. You were too weak both inside and weak to walk away from him. It was ridiculous to anyone from the outside, but perhaps more or less 30 days without touching him was not suitable for someone like you.

“That’s what you realized after I supplied you with all of that information?” He sighed in disappointment and brought you closer to him, a stern glare on his face. “He was going to do something awful to you! Why can’t you see how much you’re hurting yourself when you go to these things? You’re so naive when I’m not able to watch over you for a little bit!”

You sniffled, realizing that the drops of tears that you tried to hold back were already falling. He was yelling at you and for a good reason, but it was tiring to hear the same things over and over again from your friends, and especially from him. You acknowledged that it wasn’t good for you when you’d wake up every morning with a headache, but you didn’t want to hear it from him. In your head, if he was really looking out for you then he wouldn’t avoid you like you did.

It was an extremely petty and unfair opinion, but that still didn’t stop you from feeling hurt.

“I know, I know, Taehyun! Don’t tell me again that I’m wrong!” You furiously rubbed your cheek when yet another tear fell. His expression became horrified when he noticed that you were upset, but you didn’t have a chance to listen to him since you interrupted him. “I know I shouldn’t go to these parties since I might be in danger whenever I talk to someone I haven’t met. I know I shouldn’t meet up with people that you warn me about. I know I shouldn’t go without your permission because you’re always too worried about me, but if you only knew the reason why, then you’d understand!”

You looked up into his sparkling eyes, subtly letting him know that you were the most vulnerable in moments like these. You hadn’t been very open with him this past few year because of your heart, so this could be the only time where you’d truly be honest to him. Of course you confessed, but you lied and said that they were only minor feelings when they were the exact opposite. Hopefully, he would be able to see through the obstacle of your tears and understand how hurt you felt from making terrible decisions.

“I’m sorry, okay? I really am. I shouldn’t have fell for you I know, but you don’t have to rub it in. I’m tired of feeling like this because I’m aware you’ll never feel for me like I do. What makes it worse is that I’m trying to get away from you, but you always seem to haunt me in my dreams! I love you so much so that it seems hopeless.”

He peered into your twinkling eyes that were unfortunately filled with what he hated the most, a look of genuine sadness because of him. He couldn’t help but smirk at how adorable you sounded, but you took it as a hint that he was mocking at you for saying the truth. You lingered for a little bit for him to say something just in case although being delusional wasn’t the best choice right now.

Taehyun cleared his throat and let go of your hands before scratching the back of his neck. You looked at him again instead of the dim floor, seeing a little bit of red coating his cheeks. You shook your head rapidly, swearing at yourself for thinking that he was nervous because he had something to say- something like a confession. You waited for a while, a few doubts clouding your mind until he spoke again, mentally preparing your heart for the worst.

“Y/N... I’m sorry, but I don’t think I like you.” You had to hear it for the second time again. He was saying something with a big grin on his face, but you couldn’t hear it without the sound of your heart cracking piece by piece in your ears. It was almost like anyone could hear it shatter, and you just wanted to get out of there. Even getting for the rejection wasn’t good when you actually had to process what he said.

You gulped the big lump in your throat and softly smiled at him, one that was obviously artificial for someone who knew you for a long time. Here you were again hiding your heartache despite how much he knew! You wanted to hit yourself wherever you could for feeling the things you were as the hate for yourself grew more stronger. Questions racked up in your head like if there was someone better than you and you weren’t good enough to appeal to him.

“Ah, see? I was right. I should get going though. My stomach hurts and I feel a bit under the weather.” He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips thinking for a second before saying something. Again, you didn’t give him a chance as you glanced at his confused face and waved a hasty goodbye that only he could see. “I’ll get going, Hyun! See you tomorrow!”

You were sure that you looked like a fool at the moment, but you took off the heels that you were wearing and ran away from his sight while he was yelling at you to stop. You didn’t know how you were able to do it, maybe because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood, but you made it home in one piece after walking by yourself in a gloomy night.

You crashed into bed drawing out a long sob that had took the remaining energy out of you. You shouldn’t have gone to this party knowing that Taehyun would be there. Heck, it didn’t even ring an alarm bell in your messed up head that suspicious Minho tried to drug you with something! One of the people that you trusted and wanted to get closer to had ulterior moves that you didn’t perceive, yet you skipped past of it and looked more into the relevant rejection. It was probably the reason why Taehyun wasn’t able to see you in that way because you were too naive to be around with. The negative thoughts reverberating in your cracked heart was enough to knock you out, as well as the perpetual tears that flowed out from you.

---

The following day, you awoke to a few quiet shuffling sounds from the covers. The morning sunlight was shining through the window which caused you to wake up from your deep rest with a subtle frown on your face. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright when you had to get ready for school, and it confused you as to why the sun was peeking from the corner of your window. You felt tired than usual again, but it wasn’t an excuse to get back to sleep when there was a lot of work to complete.

You were actually tempted to fall back asleep and snuggle against your fluffy plushies until you realized that today must’ve been a Saturday. You were so lucky to have a day to yourself! A sigh of relief came out of you and you rubbed your cheek against the pillow you were resting your head on until a big realization smacked you right in the face.

Wait a sec... yesterday was a Thursday, right? That only meant today was a Friday then! Didn’t your alarm go off?! You shot up from your spot on the bed, but instantly stopped from how dizzy you felt. It felt like you were going to fall over if you didn’t have the bed to support you from underneath your sweaty palms.

There was a light chuckle from someone on the corner of your bed and you sat up slowly before they ushered you and tucked you back in. Your eyes seemed to be waking up as they were filled with a black horizon that stretched across both of them. You rubbed your face, groaning as you thought it was your guardian who came back from one of their business trips. You sighed and smiled softly, thinking that they would make your favorite food for the day since you were feeling terrible. It was a surprise when your vision finally cleared.

Your eyes widened when you made eye contact with Taehyun and you plunged back into the heavy blanket, covering yourself so that he wouldn’t see how ashamed you were. How did he come inside anyway? It obviously wasn’t like you handed him a key earlier that month when you warned him that it was for only for emergencies.

Just like that, a big gush of memories whipped across your head and you slowly regained what you had said yesterday. You facepalmed yourself and held your breath, wishing that he wouldn’t say anything about what happened last night.

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. You could tell that a grin was gracing his features because of how playful he sounded, but you didn’t want to look. Yes, he was breathtaking to look at, but that wasn’t the point! You wanted to hit yourself for thinking of those few words while you wondered if he was going to say something.

“Why didn’t you stay at home yesterday, dove? You were sick, and you shouldn’t have gone out like that. I was planning for us to order some take-in and watch movies all night and hold you in my arms.” You covered your eyes with the blanket, feeling embarrassed for thinking in such an irrational way. Your mind must’ve been heavily tampered with how sick you were if you thought yesterday that Taehyun was in the wrong.

“I couldn’t have let Minho go alone! You know exactly who I am, probably better than myself. I understand now that I shouldn’t have entrusted him with my secrets, but if you got to know his persona, then you would’ve been fooled too.” He didn’t say anything, so you continued to fill the empty bubble of silence. “By the way... I’m sorry for acting like that towards you. I should’ve been more mature about the situation, so I sincerely apologize for my actions.”

He smiled at you, inching towards your spot to hold your hand. You peeked out from the covers and you accepted it hesitantly but happily since he forgave you by the grin he was shooting at you and slid closer. “Hey it’s okay, but you should’ve brought me. You didn’t get to hear what I said before you ran away.”

Now, your heart was pounding. Was he seriously going to reject you for the third time? You held back a laugh of disbelief because you didn’t want to talk about how he rejected you twice, much to your embarrassment. It was difficult to look him straight in the eye and smile as if you had really meant it. Nonetheless, you remained quiet as to hear what he had to say and looked sadly at his drooping figure. “What do you want to say that could possibly make this better, Taehyun?”

He exhaled in the comforting silence, seemingly clearing his head for a second before turning to you. “Well this is going to sound awkward, and you might not accept it anyway after all I’ve done. I thought you said no yesterday when you ran away, but turns out you didn’t hear me. I thought it’d be better to wait for you to get some rest since it might’ve come out as a shock.”

You nodded your head, a bit puzzled on why he was rambling. He usually didn’t do this unless he was nervous to tell the truth or something like that. You hoped that it was good, one that wouldn’t send another hit to your poor heart that you still needed a bit more time to mend.

“What I’m saying is... I love you, Y/N. I really do, it’s just that I didn’t see it until you avoided me.” Words were caught in your throat and you were going to yell at him to stop playing with your feelings, knowing that he was blind sometimes. However, by the look in his shimmering eyes plus the tint of sadness, you realized that he was only telling the truth.

You were unable to say anything as your mind couldn’t find the words to, so he continued. “I’m really sorry you had to go through all of that. I did a lot of thinking, and I couldn’t help but be jealous when you hung out more with Minho. By that point I had already known I loved you so much, but I was unable to say something to you because I thought that you had already hated me.”

There were tears welling up in his eyes that he tried to hide, but you saw through him anyway. You heard how innocent the little sniffles coming from his nose were, and grinned although he couldn’t see it with how busy he was trying to conceal his tears. His feelings towards you were so pure, but he couldn’t put them into words and he didn’t know if you were going to reject him like he did to you.

The baby bluebirds were chirping outside of the window when you were the first one who finally spoke up. It had seem like a long time where you both wallowed in your thoughts and waited for the other to say something, even if it was negative. He just gazed at you longingly as you did the same, wondering if he could feel how much you were at the moment.

Your voice started a little wobbly, but you didn’t mind. You just felt so happy that you finally had what you desired after a whole year. “So this whole time, you love me?” He was going to say a word, but you were quick to cut him off. “I have absolutely no words to say. I can’t say anything, but yes! Of course, I still love you, dummy. What makes you think that I was going to say no?”

You jumped up from the bed to give him a back hug on the edge of the right side and nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck. He giggled a sweet melody, wiping away the few tears that had fallen and leaned into your embrace.

“So, you’re my girlfriend now?”

“You must be blind if you think I’m going to say no.”

Both of you laughed a little before you grew quiet at what you both obtained.

This was the feeling that you had strove for, to finally know that he was yours and that you were his.

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Posted: 7/25/20- Added to Queue

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raziroo · 3 years

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Stained Glass | Remus Lupin x Reader

viii.

Warnings : None

The black- eyed girl's funeral had been exceptionally somber.

And it was so, not because of lack of people; it was the knowledge that even though the Hogwarts professors, along with a select few students, had all attended the funeral, the girl's parents couldn't be there - her mother had perished, and her father had been the murderer, and that made the occasion all the more sad.

The funeral had morosely been arranged on a day which reflected the occasion's mood - cloudy, gray, and rainy.

The gray-eyed pureblood stood in the back, beside his hazel-eyed, nest-for-hair, friend. The third of their crew, a mousy, brown-eyed boy stood a few feet away, clouded with guilt of his own, for even though this happening hadn't occurred directly because of him, he was aware that something of the sort would occur in the future, again, and this time, it would be due to him. A lanky, freckly, greenish-amber eyed werewolf stood, as a gray-eyed blonde clung to his arms; the boy was guilty because his was the spell that hit the deceased, and the girl was guilty just because. A small group of seventh year Gryffindor females, and one Hufflepuff male, all stood in front of the mousy boy, mourning for their roommate, for whom they hadn't been when she needed it. The professors all stood at the front, with an old wizard at the very front, the famed twinkle of his eyes missing. But a certain green-eyed redhead stood out behind all the others, behind her boyfriend, behind his friends, behind her friends.

Why? Because Lily Evans was the one who had retrieved the art journal, and had discovered the concealed letters in it. She had read it, and she had pieced it together, and the moment she had - it all hit her like a freight train. But she didn't tell Remus, or Cassandra, or anyone - nothing could be done now.

So as she pondered who to share her buried feelings with, because if she didn't, she might as well have exploded.

And so, after the funeral, the girl had taken hushed steps inside the boys' dormitory at a time when she was certain only Sirius Black would be present. And she had told him. She had poured her heart out, she had sobbed, she had cried, she had wailed, she had mourned. And the boy had made attempts to console her, because what else could he even do? He hadn't shed a tear; only put the journal back together, and concealed the notes, with trembling hands.

And that was how it remained; only two people to share the burden of someone's withered life, up until the moment they themselves had died.

And Remus Lupin had discovered the secret only after almost nineteen years, when he went through his friend's room, the room that felt so incredibly cold.

And that was the day Remus Lupin had broken down, because it was too much, just too much, the war, the baby, Tonks, Harry and Hermione and Ron, it all worried him so much.

And that was how Nymphadora Tonks had found her husband, huddled up in a ball, crying and screaming and wailing.

And so Disaster grinned maliciously, because despite the death that had occurred almost two decades ago, people were still mourning. His efforts had paid off.

"my skin is made of glass

but apparently it's stained

'cause you notice all the cracks

but can't look inside my pain"

-Stained Glass [Madison Beer]

#remus x reader #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #moony #wormtail #padfoot #prongs #Marauders #the marauders era #the marauders #marauders era #James Potter #peter pettigrew #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #hogwarts

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baldwin-montclair · 4 years

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The Unlikely Advocate - Part 4

Just a little backstory to how this little family of a vampire and two witches formed.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Tagged: @sylverdeclermont @christi14 @fanficqueen306 @holamor

———

“You fucking asshole!” Eileen hissed viciously at Baldwin, standing by the projection board and over the heads of his underlings at their desks as time and space seemed to evaporate, judging by the frozen nature of their stares.

The silence was broken when four security personnel caught up with her. Two grabbed her roughly by each arm to escort her from the building.

“Do not fucking touch her!” Baldwin roared at them and without a beat, they dropped their hold.

Despite her own anger and feeling of betrayal, Eileen suddenly realised that her actions were indistinguishable from someone knowingly entering a bull-fighting arena whilst wearing top to toe in red.

“In here!” He called back as he retreated to his office.

Everyone stayed frozen, not entirely sure who he’d been speaking to and much too afraid to be mistaken.

A moment later he reappeared at the office door, his gaze focused on Eileen.

“Miss Percy,” he clarified and regarded his still slightly traumatised team, “everyone else back to work.”

Eileen was more than a little aware of the stares she had prompted from the workers, some fascinated by the person who’d given voice to a sentiment they were too afraid to even think, others like she was walking the last few yards to her place of execution. In reality, if they had any notion of how actually dangerous their ball-buster boss really was they would have run a long time ago.

As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, the door closed behind her and Baldwin retreated to lean against his large mahogany desk, folding his arms and watching her intently.

“You lied to me-“ she started.

“I haven’t Miss Percy, which is why this intrusion is unacceptable-“

“How dare you,” she interrupted again, “come over all high and mighty after what you did.”

“What manner of offence do you imagine I committed ?” He asked with a sigh, his patience visibly dissipating.

“Izzy, you told me everything was fine, that the Congregation had ruled to let me keep custody.”

He stood straighter, his fixed gaze more intense.

“Your mother disputed our ruling, if there is a problem you should take it up with her.”

“My mother allied herself with her precious big brother, leader of the witches in Congregation, she still thinks he was used as a scapegoat for your family to grab more power. I haven’t spoken to her since she disowned my sister for accusing him. Why is she even being taken seriously?”

“I promise that she isn’t,” he stepped forward, “she’s not getting near your niece. The way to ensure that is to conduct a proper hearing.”

“You’re choosing an arbiter, some stranger is taking my niece away from me until that’s done!”

“Standard procedure,” he assured, “I have chosen Diana as her guardian during the proceedings, the Congregation have agreed, I simply have not yet been able to reach her today. Once the arrangements were made I was going to inform you.”

“Can...” she stopped, feeling the righteous fury fade to embarrassment at her failure to imagine this option, “can you do that, make Diana her temporary guardian?”

“I assume she is an acceptable choice given your close friendship?”

Eileen nodded mutely, there was no-one in the world she trusted with Izzy more than Diana and Matthew.

“Then if we are done?” His sniping tone had softened slightly. The regard in his expression belied curiosity rather than anger.

“Yes...of course,” she stammered as he stepped close, leaning past her to open the door, “I’m s-“

“We’ll discuss this another time,” he cut off her apology as he stood over her, his frame intimidating as his dark amber eyes fixed her in place.

The encounter stayed with her long after she’d left his offices. Despite her embarrassment at her rash behaviour, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by his easy authority over the situation. Every decision she’d made of late, with regards to taking over the coven, becoming a mother to her fourteen month old niece, she’d second guessed and panicked over, dealing with her mother had been a source of anxiety but the vampire her family had been so wary of was the one fighting them with her.

Also, she knew she’d be lying if she argued she didn’t find him attractive. Objectively, her friend’s husband, Matthew, was a very attractive man but definitely too much of a friend to really lend him the mysterious gravitas as his step-brother.

Also, in such close proximity, Baldwin did smell incredible, leather and firewood, very masculine aromas and despite herself, she felt drawn to his authoritative energy.

Eileen was not looking forward to the journey to France, not nearly as much as all previous social visits. It was not just because she was going to be without her niece for some time but because she would be met there by the vampire whose office she’d stormed just one week prior.

She loaded the gurgling baby into her chair as the doorbell rang. Hoping it was not a neighbour - as she was already behind in regards to time - she opened the door a crack.

That was all her brother’s needed to push the door open harder, knocking her backwards to the ground, splitting her lip.

Isobel started crying in her car seat, loudly.

“You’re weak, just like that Bishop bitch, if you both had your way, we’d all be under the thumb of the vampires.”

“Joshua, not you too-“ Eileen winced as she stood, looking into the eyes of her younger brother, the baby of the family was now angry and hateful, just like her elder sibling Mark.

“Don’t talk to him,” Mark sneered, “you only talk lies, we won’t let you take another family member away.”

He made to move towards Isobel but Eileen rushed to stand in his way.

“Lies? Like how our uncle, capturing witches and supplying them to a sadistic madman for rape and torture?” She yelled and felt the strike of a hand on her cheek.

“Yes, lies, you misled our dear departed sister with your false accusations, her blood is on your hands.”

“He killed our sister, Knox did, she was the one who figured out he was behind the disappearances. The de Clermont’s suffered just as much at Fuch’s hands, they were not in league with him.”

“You whore,” he grabbed her hair, “has he had you, is that why he’s taken such an interest?”

“Who?”

“Who do you fucking think? Montclair!”

“No.”

“We’ll see,” Mark nodded at Joshua, “she always sucked at keeping her mind protected, hold her.”

Joshua hesitated.

“We were meant to just take the baby, not hurt her.”

“It only hurts if you fight it, you should know that, little brother.”

“Don’t listen to him Josh.”

“Shut up!” Mark shoved her against the wall.

She waited for the sickening thud of her skull striking the hard surface but it didn’t.

Opening her eyes, she realised she was no longer looking into her malice driven brother’s gaze but a concerned Baldwin who had shielded her head with his hand, preventing the injury.

The same could not be said for Mark, lying and groaning amidst a mess of splintered bookcase and it’s contents.

Joshua, frozen in fear up until now moved to go towards him but was stopped by a growl from her saviour before he turned his attention to her.

“I’m going to attend to your sister now,” he spoke to her attackers as he looked her over, “I suggest you not be here when I turn.”

Mark made to rush Baldwin but he was suddenly frozen in place before being threw out the door, Joshua running after him as the door slammed and locked behind them.

Baldwin turned back to Eileen stunned, he had no idea she possessed such power.

He was unable to query it as he found her unconscious but with her breathing steady and her heart rate at the pace it usually was, higher than most but normal for her, he decided it best to just let her rest.

Isobel had quietened down since the commotion and was now staring at Baldwin as he gently placed Eileen on the sofa, her gaze held a silent calculation. Then, her arms outstretched, demanding to be picked up.

“You don’t have the genetic markers for Witch Wind Eileen,” Matthew looked over the blood work he’d conducted shortly after she joined their conventicle, “fire and earth yes but not witch wind.”

“So what does that mean?” She asked.

“We think you leant your power to Isobel, she has the markers and you have a genetic connection through your sister, the earth marker.” Diana explained.

“Not intentionally, I’d never just put it all on her so I can peace out and nap while she’s alone and scared.”

Diana smiled a little and nodded to Rebecca ‘serving’ empty plastic cups of tea to Isobel and Baldwin, the latter with Isobel still at ease on his arm.

“She wasn’t alone, she knew she was safe, as were you.”

“He’s so much better with kids than adults,” Matthew shook his head in bewilderment at the family head, “it’s very strange.”

“She’s very taken with him,” Eileen agreed.

“Obviously runs in the family.” Diana commented to an exasperated eye-roll from her friend.

Eileen flicked through the photo’s on the iPad, those and her daily FaceTime ‘chats’ with her niece being the only thing to keep her sane after a week without her.

She didn’t even have the comfort of familiar surroundings as Baldwin insisted she stay in one of his guest bedrooms, given the hostility of her family.

As grateful as she was for his help, she found the situation increasingly difficult in some ways.

For over a year, her sole focus had been her niece, protecting and taking care of her, her own needs secondary. She didn’t begrudge this, she didn’t even think about it. Now, with nothing to do or focus on, Eileen found herself at a loose end and attracted to her friend’s brother.

That has to be breaking some code.

Still, the memory of Baldwin’s cold and firm touch cradling her head from impacting the wall stayed with her, making her consider just how that same strong hand would feel around her throat as he took her on the long table of the dining room.

A guilty flush made her shake her head involuntarily. Sex was not something she’d been shy about agreeing to in the past but she was out of practice, now she might as well be a nun staring at a well-endowed statue a bit too long.

A shower, she needed a shower.

The hot water helped give some semblance of peace to her mind but did not assuage her desire and she dipped her hand down between her thighs to aid in easing her frustration.

She was close, in a very short span of time, making up for months of neglecting that aspect of herself when the tell-tale sound of her phone sounded in the bedroom.

She hastily ended the shower, dried off and rough towelled her hair before throwing on a silk dressing gown.

The phone had stopped before she reached it.

“Dammit!” She swore.

It came alive again in her hand.

Mother.

She couldn’t tamp down the boiling anger, not enough to stop herself doing the one thing Baldwin ordered her not to do.

Answer the call.

By the time she’d taken the breath needed to cuss the woman out, the phone was in Baldwin’s hand at the far side of the room.

He emphatically hit the hang up button and placed the device on the table.

“So that lock really is just for show,” she accused, gesturing to the door of Baldwin’s guest room.

“Every call from your mother is monitored, you know that, and I did tell you to not to speak to her.”

He was focused on her face, not the sheer dressing gown stuck against her still slightly damp skin. His gaze was deliberate, as though his will was employed in avoiding so much as a glance at her body.

“I did not give you permission to enter.” She went to the door and opened it, “please leave.”

“As you wish,” he shrugged, picking up the phone, “but this comes with me.”

“You can’t,” she stood in front of the door, blocking his exit, “I need that”.

Eileen made a grab for the phone but he managed to hold it just out of reach.

“You cannot be trusted.” He explained.

“I can-“

“Whatever you say to your mother could be used as an argument to give her custody, I’m trying to protect you, and the child.”

“I don’t need your protection!”

“And I really don’t care what you think you need, in this situation I know better.”

“You are an arrogant prick!”

“Indeed I am, and will continue to be so until you accept my guidance in this matter.”

“You’re asking me to trust you?”

“Not at all,” he stepped closer to her, “I’m telling you to do as I say.” His gaze was now fixated on her throbbing jugular vein.

“And if I want your help with my family I have to obey, right?”

“Yes, but more important than that,” he reached up and gently moved a lock of hair obstructing his view of her neck, “you want to.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

“I do, only you’re afraid to ask for it,” he grasped her throat, firmly but not tight enough to hurt, “tell me to stop.”

Her hands clasped his wrist and forearm through instinct but still well aware this would do nothing to save her if his goal was to harm her.

“I’m not afraid of you.” She hissed in defiance.

“That much is clear,” he taunted, lips centimetres from her own, “tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you need?”

Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, willing him to close the distance, kiss her, fuck her, bite her even, she wasn’t certain.

“I-“ she hesitated.

Baldwin pressed his lips gently onto hers, not allowing her to pull him in for more as he set the pace, maddeningly slow, before pulling away, causing her to release a whine of frustration.

“I can leave if you want me to, you need only stay silent.”

”No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then you’ll trust me, put yourself in my hands from now until sunrise?”

“S-sunrise?”

It was only six-thirty, sunrise was in at least twelve hours, she had to wonder what he had in mind.

“Can you do that? Relinquish all responsibility and concern and simply obey?”

The seductive abilities of vampires were well known to witches, humans mistakenly attributed hypnotic properties to what they deemed the fictional creatures.

“Yes.”

“Excellent,” he leant forward and placed a kiss on her forehead, “get ready, we have a table booked for dinner in an hour.”

#adow #a discovery of witches #adow baldwin fic #baldwin montclair #adow baldwin #stern dom baldwin

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lastwagontrainhopper · 4 years

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The tapestry of their skin

Written (late) for Royai Week 2020, prompt : Old wounds.

Summary: One day, when all this mess is behind them, Roy and Riza will have to explain to a curious kid how they managed to get so many scars.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674746 (French version - the original one - also available on AO3)

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The Mustang’s house, with its two floors and its front garden, was surprisingly small considering the position Roy had held, but neither he nor Riza wanted to display their new fortune ostentatiously. They both knew the way Amestris had acquired its wealth, and using that blood money to buy something as superfluous as a mansion wouldn’t have sat well with them. Besides, what was the point of having a huge villa if it was for only two people?

They had moved in together as soon as they had been married, and had married as soon as they could; Roy had made sure of that. On the last day they had descended HQ’s main staircase, both ordinary citizens for the first time since their teenage years, he had got down on one knee and proposed, amidst the flow of working officers and traffic noise of the street close by.

Riza had raised an eyebrow, amused by the situation.

“Isn’t it a bit rushed?”

He had shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

“Maybe”, he had admitted sheepishly. “But I figured we’ve waited long enough.”

Riza had let out a chuckle. “Yes, that’s for sure.” Her eyes were shining. “And yes.”

They had kissed and embraced, enjoying the pleasure of doing it in public, and especially of doing so before the symbol of what had kept them apart for so long. And, just like that, they were gone, one arm wrapped around the other’s waist, before any officer passing by could realize that something incredible had just happened.

Their marriage had been equally modest, celebrated a few weeks later in a small country church. The event had not been kept secret, of course – they had had their fill of secrecy – but Riza loathed the idea of an official ceremony with great pomp and circumstance, and Roy had had enough of playing the public figure.

The newspapers had made mention of the event, but only the people on the short guest list had been able to attend the ceremony. For them, the wedding was no surprise – everyone who mattered to Roy and Riza already knew about their relationship – but it was rather a way to make it official, and mostly to celebrate their long years of work and patience. Weddings are usually the beginning of a journey ; this one felt more like the end of a story.

A perfectly happy ending, if it wasn’t for one detail.

They wouldn’t have dared to dream of it at the beginning of their relationship, following the Promised Day – even getting married seemed impossible back then – but as their lives progressed toward something almost normal, the idea of having children came up more and more in their minds. Of course, it would have to wait: a pregnancy would force Riza to withdraw from the military at least for a time, and it could lead to some troublesome questions if the baby turned out to look like a certain colonel. But above all, their careers were demanding and dangerous, and both had suffered too much from absent parents to risk inflicting this on their child. Therefore, they had agreed that if it were to happen, it would be at the reasonable moment, after Roy’s Führer reign.

Unfortunately, not all things in life can patiently wait for the right time.

By the time Riza reached her thirty-fifth anniversary as Roy was still only general, they realized that the reasonable moment might come too late.

Nonetheless, they kept hanging on to the small hope that it could happen. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time they would see something impossible happen before their eyes. Besides, they told themselves, some of the problems could be overcome – the Elric had offered to take care of one more kid, if necessary – and others would be worth it. If Riza ever got pregnant, they finally decided, they would make the decision at that time.

But that moment never came.

Maybe it was because of Riza, maybe it was because of Roy, or maybe they were just incompatible; neither of them bothered to find out. They saw a sort of poetic justice in the idea that their couple, which together had taken so many human lives, was not able to create one. Of course, they didn’t share that thought with anyone, not even with each other – but if there was one thing they shared, it was their love of mystical punishments.

So by the time they moved in their little house not far from Central, they had long given up on their dream of amber-eyed and black-haired children.

But after a few years spent tending to their wounds as best as they could, what they had thought impossible finally happened, though in a vastly different way than they expected. It took the form of a six-year-old boy whose mother, an Investigation officer, had died from a bomb in her apartment, and whose father had never been in the picture. No one from his maternal family had come forward to take him in, and his chances of adoption were slim : he was already too old for the taste of most couples, and the explosion that killed his mother had left a nasty scar on his face and arm.

A scarred child, orphaned by military service, with an absent father : the symbolism was so strong it seemed made on purpose, and Roy and Riza didn’t fail to notice it when they read the notice sent by HQ. They did not trust themselves enough to be good parents to have voluntarily tried adoption; but no one, no one, would want this child, they were told. Surely, they would be better than nothing?

And so Adrian – the boy’s name – came to live in their house not far from Central, which suddenly seemed even smaller.

When he first arrived, the child was silent and withdrawn, undoubtedly still in shock at the brutal way he had lost his mother. But Roy and Riza were better with kids than they gave themselves credit for : after all, they came to see Edward Elric’s children so often that they were seen as aunt and uncle – which had always had a bittersweet feeling to it. But above all, they understood the boy’s wounds better than anyone else. And so, over the course of the next months, thanks to the patient and attentive care of Roy and Riza, the kid started to open up.

His parents taught him many things. He learned that not all wounds were worn on the skin ; he also learned that none of them, visible or not, defined who he was. And he was surprised to discover that his parents had even more scars than he did.

One day where Riza was carrying him to bed, when he was eight years old, Adrian put a finger on the long white line that ran across her neck.

“Mom, how did you got that?” he asked curiously.

Riza simply smiled.

“Oh, that’s just an injury I got when I was in the military. It happened when I was fighting along with your dad.”

Adrian frowned, no satisfied. “Yes, but hooow?”

She sat him on the bed and crouched to be at his level.

“Adrian”, she started softly, “it’s not very polite to insist like that. Some people don’t want to say how they got their scars; that’s personal. “She tapped the lumpy mark that stretched across his left cheek with affection. “I’m sure you can understand that.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “But I don’t mind talking about it. You and Dad always say I should be proud of it and proud of what Mama was doing. And I prefer the people who ask.” He frowned, looking grouchy. “The people who don’t ask just stare at it, and I can tell that they want to know, but they don’t ask. That’s even more annoying.”

Riza tilted her head to the side, her expression softening.

“Ah, but you know that not everyone is as wise of you are, sweetheart.”

She kissed his forehead, put him to bed, and wished him good night. He never asked about it again.

But as Adrian was growing up, he began to realize that his parents had way more scars than the norm, even for people who had been in the military. Riza had her white mark across the neck, but there was also her right hand, with its stiff fingers who couldn’t properly bend and its painful joints. Roy’s hands weren’t much better, with their identical wound in the middle of the palm; and when he went bare-chested, the large burn on his left flank was impossible to miss.

But the worst one was the thin vertical gash he had on the right side of his torso: it was the worse, because it was the most painful one – preventing him from running and jumping comfortably – but also because every time it caused Roy to flinch in pain, Riza couldn’t hide her guilty expression. The remorse on her face was so powerful that Adrian almost started to believe that she was the one who stabbed him (could she be the one who stabbed him? His parents fought from time to time, but never to that extent…or so he thought).

And then, there was Riza’s back. Adrian had never seen it, and that was the strange part. Even when they went to the beach, she always kept a shawl or a sweater to cover it. Knowing his parent’s history, he couldn’t think of any other reason to hide it than the presence of yet another scar, surely a particularly repulsive one.

Despite his curiosity, he never asked about any of their wounds, and they never brought up the subject. He had a vague idea of what his parents had lived through, like everyone in the country – Ishval’s civil war, the Promised Day, the Aerugo Invasion. And his parents liked to reminisce about their time in the military, but it was always about the mundane moments : the discussion with their squad, the Elric brothers’ visits, the mountain of paperwork Riza had to threaten Roy into signing.

But Adrian knew his parents hadn’t received all their injuries by filling out paperwork.

And yes, he knew that Roy and Riza were more than just their scars, but those injuries were still part of them, part of their lives ; not knowing where they came from, or not being trusted to even see them sometimes made him feel like he didn’t know his own parents.

And he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Roy and Riza would have been more open about their past had he been their real son.

When he was 14, Adrian touched on the topic with Edward, during one of their visits to the Elric. Even though his children were about his age, Edward was much younger than his parents, and often acted like an old cousin rather than an uncle. More importantly, he loved telling the stories he and his brother had lived, even though Adrian suspected him of omitting certain details.

Edward didn’t have much to say at the time ; but a few weeks later, his parents called him in the living room with a serious look on their face, and Adrian suspected that Ed must have had something to do with it.

They had a heart-to-heart discussion like they rarely had in their family – Adrian had certainly inherited their tendency to keep his real emotions far below the surface – and when they were finished, the three of them with tight throats and slightly watery eyes, Roy coughed a few times and finally put his joints hand on the table.

“So…which story do you want to hear today?”

“We would probably point out,” Riza added while attempting a smile, “that we’re certainly not as good at storytelling than Edward.”

Adrian thought about it for a moment. He knew his father would be more willing to share than his mother, and wanted to start out with something light. His hands’ wounds had always unsettled him – a scar could be accidental, but two of them, exactly at the same place, had something more sinister, more…deliberate. He wouldn’t dare to ask about the gash on his torso: he could guess it was related to a particularly painful memory for the both of them.

“Your burn, on the ribs,” he finally chose.

To his relief, Roy grinned.

“Well, I must say that you, my son, have a taste for the spectacular.” (Riza looked up at the sky : “I wonder where he got that from”.) Roy glanced at her mischievously. “This story is also the first time your mother shed tears for me.”

“And certainly, the last one”, she completed in a neutral tone. “Come on now, start, or we’ll be here all day.”

#royaiweek20 #royai #parental royai #fanfic #royai week

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 5 years

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Kintsugi

Okay. Recently I sent this ask to @bloodraven55

And ever since then, my brain won’t fucking stop with this bumbleby plot. Why are these girls so inspirational?

I’ve been hesitant to post it because I want to do the girls justice and my anxiety had me convinced I would do something wrong. But I’ll never grow as a writer if it just stays in the damn folders. Constructive criticism is definitely encouraged.

So, here it is *screams in anxiety*

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

With contact finally made with General Ironwood, the gang had finally been able to make it to their temporary lodgings; a local inn. Granted, there wasn’t enough rooms to let out to each individual so they were required to share rooms.

Ruby had instantly announced that she was bunking with Weiss. Although, the younger girl had been unable to resist playfully informing Blake that she felt guilty for forcing her sleep in the same room as the team’s tractor. Blake, as was common for the cat faunus, humoured Ruby and went along with it;(giving her partner that little half smirk that Yang was beginning to think was solely meant for her) informing Ruby that it was a sacrifice that she was willing to make for the sake of the team in a rather deadpan manner.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group made their arrangements easily enough and soon enough, the black and yellow pair found themselves in their room. Upon entering, Yang immediately collapsed onto one of the beds, groaning slightly as her body bounced against the thin mattress. Not too long after, she heard the springs of the other bed squeak. Rolling over to look at her partner revealed a completely drained looking Blake, her faunus ears rotating anxiously. It didn’t take Yang long to understand why.

Blake held the remains of Gambol Shroud in her lap, her hands running along the blade. Yang watched, feeling her heartstrings tug painfully for the woman sitting across from her.

Their weapons were, as Ruby liked to remind her, extensions of their souls. There were theories that you could see who a person was based on their weapon and how they used it, much like their semblances. A broken weapon, however, usually left the wielder feeling hollow, like a piece of them had been torn away. Yang understood that feeling all too well; the pain in Blake’s eyes was all too familiar. There was no way in hell that she was going to let her partner go through this alone.

“Hey, you doing okay, Blake?” She asked softly, moving to sit up so that she could meet Blake’s eyes better. Blake didn’t say anything for a moment. She saw the way Blake’s jaw worked, muscles clenching. The way her ears almost blended into her hair. Blake was fighting an internal battle. Yang could only hope that she was ready to accept an ally.

“I will be. Right now, I just want to focus on getting my weapon fixed. I can’t think about..” When Blake finally spoke, it was thick with emotion, breaking off before she could finish her train of thought. Yang stood up and slowly approached Blake. She gently sat on the shorter woman’s right, wrapping her arm around her and slowly drew her in. Blake immediately melted into Yang, a quiet apology whispered against Yang’s collar as she rested her forehead in the crook of Yang’s neck.

“Don’t be. You’ve been through hell and back. If you’re not ready to talk, that’s okay.”

Several moments passed as the two women took comfort within each other’s presence, content to stay as they were. Yang, however, knew that Blake was anxious to get her weapon sorted out.

“Do you want some help with Gambol Shroud? Ruby’s a huge geek when it comes to these things so…” She started to ask, only to be interrupted.

“Actually, I was kind of hoping that you might help me?” “Of course.” Yang cooed softly into Blake’s hair after a moment. “What did you have in mind?”

It was an honour to help somebody with their weapon and as such required a certain level of trust that must not be taken for granted or abused. Something that Yang would never do to the incredible woman sitting beside her.

Yang didn’t know why it threw her for a loop. She really shouldn’t have been surprised; ever since Blake had come back, the girl had been more affectionate and open with her friends. Perhaps it was only natural that she trusted her partner with her weapon.

“Kintsugi.” Yang blinked at the simple reply. “Come again?” She asked, somewhat confused. She felt, more than heard, the sigh that left Blake as she sat up and wiped her eyes to look at Yang.

“Sometimes I forget that there’s such a difference between our cultures.” Blake mused as she rolled her eyes slightly. Yang tilted head down at Blake.

“So, it’s a faunus culture thing?” Yang asked, genuinely interested. She had always loved listening to Blake talk about her culture; her eyes would light up when talking, almost seeming to sharpen from warm amber to molten gold. She always spoke with so much passion; it was something that Yang had always found immensely attractive.

“Yes. It’s, well, it’s the tradition of repairing broken items with gold. Usually pottery, but we tend to use it for broken weapons as well. It’s actually a really important part of our culture.” Biting her lip thoughtfully, shifting so that she could lay Gambol Shroud out on the bed between them.

“I was actually thinking of using gold to repair my blade. Maybe extend it a little. What do you think?” Yang knew that there was a very different reason for the choice, but she couldn’t help the way her cheeks suddenly felt a little bit too warm at the thought of Blake having gold on her weapon.

She shook herself out of it and placed her hand on Blake’s. “If it’s important to you, I say go for it.” She replied, smiling softly. Blake cocked her head slightly, a small, almost bashful smile crossing her features.

“It’s very important, Yang. We believe that when something is broken, it’s beauty is not diminished. If anything, it adds to it.” Blake adjusted their hands, idly fiddling with Yang’s fingers. She almost seemed nervous. Yang’s brows furrowed, but she opted to remain silent.

“For some of us, it can be difficult at first. But if you give your gold the opportunity to fill the cracks, you’ll realise that those cracks show how special something is. The journey that’s been traveled.” Yang gazed at her partner with a renewed sense of awe. There was something in her words that made her suspect that she wasn’t talking about Gambol Shroud anymore.

“I think it’s kind of like you and me, you know. You helped fill the cracks that he made. Helped me see that I’m no less worthy because of the scars he left. You helped reforge a broken, scared girl into the person that you saw that night in Mountain Glenn. You’re my gold, Yang, my kintsugi.” Blake’s voice was filled with conviction, as though she held no doubt in her words.

Yang’s jaw had dropped. She knew that Blake cared for her. However, the degree of which she cared had stunned her into silence. What could she even say to that? How could she possibly begin to explain how much Blake’s words meant to her? She looked away for a moment and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. But perhaps words were necessary; she did believe in actions speaking louder than words, after all.

Yang attempted to blink back the tears that threatened to fall before moving Blake’s weapon aside. “C’mere, you.” Yang croaked out before pulling Blake into a tight hug, nuzzling into her neck in a desperate attempt to hide the tears that fell. Deceptively strong arms immediately wrapped around her, while a gentle hand ran soothingly through her hair. Yang, for the first time in years, allowed herself to receive the comfort that she had so freely given and so seldom been returned. There was no doubt in Yang’s mind about whether or not her feelings mattered to Blake; together they were here and together they would heal.

There was no doubt that they still had a lot to talk about. Both women knew that. But for the moment, they were content simply knowing that something was forming between them. Or perhaps it was something else entirely; something that existed long before their eyes met across the body of an Ursa, just waiting for them to find the missing fragment of their broken souls. The one that would become their kintsugi.

#rwby #bumbleby #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #fanfic

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knamjooned · 4 years

Text

Magicae Foresta (6)

pairing: (forest)dragon!namjoon x (unpracticed)witch!reader

genre: magic/supernatural au, shifter au, fluff, angst, smut, soulmate au

chapter words: 2,394

chapter warnings: none

chapter rating: G

STORY SUMMARY: The magical world your grandmother told you about had always been real to you. Once she passed away, you find yourself honoring her memory by searching for the one magical creature she could never find.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Namjoon gathers the courage to talk to you and you get to ride on the back of a dragon.

SIX

Even though he had no official training, Namjoon had helped deliver several little ones in the forest over the last two centuries. With Taehyung’s help, the three cubs were magical checked over and cleaned up. Namjoon put a hand on the unicorn’s shoulder and took a step back as the new parents bonded with their children.

“We should leave them be,” Taehyung whispered, turning and walking toward the door. Namjoon followed him through the door and down the stairs, knowing and feeling you at the bottom. He swallowed, gripping the railing as he moved. When he reached the bottom, Namjoon reluctantly let go of the railing and stepped onto the grass. Jungkook and Minji were laughing while your face was bright red.

“Three little cubs have been born!” Taehyung cried, throwing his arms in the air dramatically. He flicked each hand and wildflowers began to grow in the small clearing, a full spectrum of colors. Namjoon grinned as he stayed back from the four of you, who had started yelling and cheering, at the edge of the flowers. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against a tree trunk.

He heard and smelled a few creatures coming to see what the noise was about. A few fairies, a family of deer, and a bear with one cub observed from the edge of the clearing. Taehyung seemed to sense them as well, as he turned to look near Namjoon and waved to them. Jungkook and Minji agreed to go tell Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin the good news, while Taehyung took it upon himself to tell the other creatures in the forest the good news.

Namjoon found himself staring at you from his spot as you sat on the grass and pulled out a notebook and pen, glancing thoughtfully at the tree house. Did you feel the connection? Were you letting him go to you, or where you completely oblivious? You were focused intently on your notebook, scribbling slowly, then quickly, then slowly again, looking up at the tree house on and off. Swallowing, Namjoon made a decision. He could at least speak to you like a normal, friendly person.

He unfolded his arms and stuck his hands in his pocket as he tried to casually stroll toward you. When he was halfway there, you lifted your head and locked eyes with him. Namjoon felt like he’d been sucker-punched, all the breath leaving his lungs. Being distracted, his foot hit a stick, making him trip and fling his arms around to get his balance once again. The centuries old dragon flushed, mortified, as his eyes caught yours again, biting your lip to hold back a laugh.

Instead of strolling now, Namjoon just walked quickly and sat down in front of you, mirroring your pose. You put your pen down, a shy smile on your lips, and placed your things to the side. Namjoon licked his lips.

“Hi. I’m Namjoon.”

“Yes, the forest dragon shifter. It’s nice to finally meet you, Namjoon.” You held out a hand, and Namjoon took it, shaking it gently in greeting. His eyes stayed on your hands, his large one fitting nicely around yours. He didn’t want to let go, not when your skin was so soft and your natural scent became heavier and heavier the longer you held on to his hand. “My grandmother wrote a little about you.”

“Miss Silvia,” Namjoon murmured, pulling his hand back reluctantly. “I didn’t interact with her directly.” He felt guilty, knowing it was entirely his choice to stay hidden when she was visiting his area. What did you think of him, knowing that?

“I read that. She gave you the choice to appear to her, and you chose to stay hidden. Tata respected you greatly, and held no negative feelings toward you.”

“Really?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, surprised. You nodded and tapped the book beside you.

“It’s written here.”

“I never meant any disrespect.” He let out a sigh of relief. There was a long pause, a moment of silence where something hung between the two of you. It was obvious what it was, but neither of you were racing to speak it into existence. You looked at your hands, and then glanced at his face. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you - you were so beautiful, not only physically, but he felt the good magic coming off of you in waves. Could he be biased because of his connection?

“I accept.”

“What?” Namjoon pulled himself out of his thoughts, unsure he had heard you correctly. You smiled widely at him and reached out, putting a hand on his knee. A current of warmth spread from your hand all over his body. Namjoon’s heart quickened.

“It seems the Great One has decided we complement one another enough to be mates. I may not have experience with this idea, but I’ve asked around. And, I accept.”

When Namjoon had tripped as he made his way, you figured there was more than just a dragon who preferred to hide in the trees. He had flushed, looked incredibly embarrassed, and decided it was better to just get in front of you than to look cool. As you shook his hand with your introductions, his touch filled you with energy up your and straight into your heart. It beat wildly, and you felt excitement and joy. You were proud of yourself for staying calm as he took his hand away.

You felt his eyes on you, so you couldn’t outright stare at him without seeming weird, so you took his features in with glances as the moments passed by. Full, pink lips, amber eyes filled with wisdom, and he had deep dimples on each side of his lips when he smiled. You felt only comfort and happiness when you were near him. Why would you reject this man, someone your grandmother had respected more than most others?

“I accept.”

Now the first step had been taken, you found yourself looking up in the air, studying the sky, as Namjoon strips to shift into the forest dragon.

“Did you know Taehyung can shift without taking off his clothes?”

“Taehyung can do a lot of mysterious things, he’s much older than me,” Namjoon murmured.

You saw Namjoon’s shadow on the ground grew on he shifted into his natural form. You found yourself looking up in awe, mouth open. His dragon form was forest green, with shiny scales and two s-curved horns on his head. His wings laid against his back, and he stood on all four limbs. In that position, he was easily fifteen feet tall. You stepped forward, reaching your arm out in front of you, palm facing him.

Namjoon seemed to freeze, waiting for you to decide what was going to happen. His large, amber eyes watching you carefully as you closed the distance between you and one of his front limbs. You laid your palm on his scales, eyes trailing up and down, taking in the beauty. You feel some kind of pressing into your thoughts, and you looked up at Namjoon’s huge dragon head.

“I hope you are not afraid,” Namjoon said, his voice in your mind. You smiled and stepped back, testing to see if you could speak to one another when you were not touching.

“No, never. You’re so … beautiful,” you replied in your mind. You stepped to where his head was over you, gesturing for him to bring his face closer. For a moment, Namjoon seemed to hesitate, but then he did as you requested. You placed a palm on his nose, between his nostrils. You felt his warm breath gently caress your skin.

“Uh, thank you. That.. that feels good,” he admitted shyly. A deep rumbling came from his huge chest. “I.. think you just made me purr. I didn’t know dragon’s could purr. Get up behind my horns, there should be enough room to straddle my neck so I can carry you.”

“I’m going to fly on a dragon?” you gasped in your mind. Namjoon laughed in your mind, and lowered his head enough for you to climb on. You didn’t hesitate, scrambling onto him and getting comfortable.

When he landed in his clearing, beside his cabin, he let you climb down and then shifted as quickly as possible. You looked dazed, hair flying every which way. Namjoon had done his best to stay low in the skies and keep a safe pace with you riding him, but he still worried he could have hurt you. You sat on the cabin steps, dropping your pack beside you, and ran a hand through your hair as Namjoon flushed and got dressed from the clothes in his pack.

“This is your cabin?” you asked, eyes resting on his newly clothed form walking to the stairs. He took one step, then stopped, looking down to where you were sitting. He looked you over, and you let him, but there was nothing but innocent curiosity in your eyes.

“Yes. Why?” It wasn’t much, but he considered it cozy and comfortable, with a fairytale charm. You scanned the edge of the clearing, then looked up at Namjoon, who held onto the railing anxiously.

“I was here before. There was an invisible wall around it. Is it still there?” You stood and started walking toward where the wall had been before. Instead of being stopped, you walked right past the exact spot. Namjoon watched you, turning and leaning against the railing with an amused smile, relaxing his hold. You frowned and walked back toward the cabin. You went right to the stairs without being stopped.

“It’s still there, but it’s attuned to who I considered friendly. You may enter and exit whenever you please.”

“Can you teach me how to do that?” You stepped next to him on the stairs, your excitement becoming contagious. He had never really taught anyone his personal knowledge of magic, but he would of course teach you.

“It’s nature magic, using the natural wind and making a solid but clear wall. It seems like something you could learn easily.” Namjoon grinned and gestured toward the door. He was nervous to show you his personal space, but excited to see how you felt about it all. “Come in, let me show you around. If you still want to stay, it’ll be your home as well as mine.”

“From what others of the shifter circle told me, you rarely share what you consider yours,” you said, taking a step in front of him into the living room. Namjoon’s heart fluttered as your mouth fell slightly open, your eyes moving in all directions to take it in. You stood silently for a long time.

“So… what do you think?”

He looked around his living area, hoping nothing too weird was noticeable. The first thing you saw when you walked in was a large living room that looked like the size of the whole outside of the cabin. There was a square inlay in the middle of the room, with a fire pit in the center. A magical fire was always crackling there. On the upper square, there were a few couches and side tables, along with a large TV on the far wall. Three different openings led down a hallway to different parts of the home, like the kitchen, his bedroom and bathroom, and his treasure room.

“Is it just me, or is it bigger inside?”

“Ah, part of dragon magic,” Namjoon murmured, unsure how to take the stars that appeared in your eyes as you turned to him. He scratched the back of his neck, shrugging like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t, not to him. “It is bigger inside. I… dragon’s like to collect, it’s part of who we are. I need space to put my things, I suppose.”

“Collect? Like what?” While you spoke, you wandered around the room, gently touching the items with your hand, running your fingers over them as you passed. Namjoon stared as you respectfully studied his living area. He waited for you to continue, but you just glanced back at him for a moment, then went on exploring. You were very curious, which he found highly attractive, but also respectful, which went a long way for him.

“Well,” he started, pulling himself out of his thoughts. Namjoon caught up with you and walked beside you, leading you toward the third opening. “A lot of things,but my passion is cultural pieces from the different creatures of the forest. I trade whatever is needed in exchange for these items.”

“Interesting,” you murmured, stopping at a closed door. You looked over your shoulder as Namjoon stepped close, reaching around you to turn the doorknob. He felt your body heat only inches from his own, and wondered if it made your head spin as much as it did his. Namjoon hesitated for a moment.

“I also have small weapons, books, figurines, and coins. It’s a little cluttered… I haven’t organized it in a while,” he added.

“No judgement, promise,” you assured him with a grin. His nervousness lowered as he opened the door. Namjoon waited for you to pass him, then entered behind you. “Wow! This is fantastic!”

Namjoon flushed with pride as you stood just inside the door and scanned the room. There were book shelves covered in what he had said: books and figurines. Weapons were hung on the wall, from small or large, and a large glass case displayed coins from different eras and places. One whole wall was displaying the different items Namjoon had been given from the forest dwellers, hanging on a wall or setting on a shelf. There were some boxes scattered that held more books, figurines, coins, and other things he hadn’t found a spot to set them.

He watched you make a beeline to the forest dweller collections. Namjoon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a soft smile on his face, as you read the small display cards for each piece. There were tribal masks, painted canvases, sculptures made with different mediums, and even items made from the things that can be found in the forest.

“Thoughts?” he asked. Your personal view on his collections was very important to him, he realized. You turned around and chuckled.

“I told you, this is fantastic. I love this.”

#hyunglinenetwork #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #namjoon x reader #bts #m: namjoon #t: fic #fic: namjoon #fic: magicae foresta

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havenoffandoms · 4 years

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Running With The Wolves - Part IV

Part I; Part II; Part III

Jaskier could not remember a time in his life when his muscles had ached that much.

Lambert and Eskel were riding on either side of Jaskier, while Ciri and the silver wolf known as Geralt lead the way, keeping a fair distance ahead of the riders and their closely guarded prisoner. A pity, for Ciri seemed the friendliest of the lot and unlike Eskel and Lambert, she did not treat him like a criminal. Jaskier managed to distract himself from the muscular cramps in his legs and lower back by examining his captors’ features more closely in the dim light of the torches. Eskel and Lambert looked similar which had Jaskier wondering whether they were related. Where Eskel wore his dark brown hair at shoulder length and gathered at the nape of his neck in a low ponytail, Lambert kept his short and well-trimmed. Both sported impressive scars on the right sides of their faces. Eskel’s face was marred with several sinuous scars running parallel to each other from his right brow all the way down his chin, while Lambert bore a single scar beginning just under his hairline and disappearing in his full beard somewhere halfway up his cheek. However, it was the identical pair of amber-coloured eyes that captivated Jaskier’s attention the most. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps all witchers were related by blood, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Ciri looked nothing like them, and Jaskier was still not sure what the silver wolf looked like in his human form either.

“How long until we finally reach your home?” Jaskier asked, trying to sound as pleasant as possible considering the aggravating circumstances. Neither Eskel nor Lambert answered him, which on top of being infuriating felt incredibly rude considering Jaskier had done nothing to deserve being treated with such disrespect. If anything, he had acted like the perfect gentleman from the start. There was truly no need for the witchers’ sour attitude.

“Could I at least ride on one of your horses? I am tired from all this travelling I did before you found me, and I’m afraid all this walking and exploring has left me really light-headed. I could collapse at any time now.”

“Shut up,” Lambert snapped at him, “before I give you a reason to complain.”

“Lambert, ease off,” Eskel admonished without taking his eyes off the path ahead. Jaskier felt like sticking his tongue out at Lambert, but he did not want to risk attracting the ill-tempered witcher’s wrath. Eskel was a lot more level-headed than Lambert, which filled Jaskier with hope for his fate. Perhaps Eskel would be able to convince this Vesemir character to let Jaskier leave with his life intact. Jaskier let the possibility comfort him as he soldiered on despite the sudden dizziness that took a hold of him.

“Could I maybe trouble you for some water?” he requested weakly. Lambert was about to cut in with a snarky comment when Eskel pulled a water pouch out of his satchel attached to the horse’s saddle, which he wordlessly handed to Jaskier. The bard gratefully accepted the offering and drank greedily, ignoring Lambert glaring at him from his raised position. Jaskier felt slightly guilty for emptying the pouch of its contents.

“Thank you,” he said as he handed the empty pouch back to Eskel, who never verbally acknowledged Jaskier’s gratitude but his eyes held that spark of recognition. This was going to be a long trip back to Kaer Morhen if every member of this small group was unwilling to converse. To say that Jaskier was out of his element was an understatement. He entertained crowds with his singing and his storytelling for a living. He was a bard, a free spirit, a poet, a composer… being urged to keep his mouth shut for longer than ten minutes was harder than Jaskier could have ever imagined. Thankfully, the silence was broken by Ciri’s voice calling Eskel and Lambert’s names urgently as she ran towards them. Jaskier noticed both witchers tense as they brought their mounts to an abrupt halt.

“What is it, Ciri?”

“Geralt, he just took off. I think he’s shifting back into his human form,” Ciri informed them. Although she tried to hide how alarmed she felt, Jaskier could discern the slight tremor in her voice.

“He’ll be alright, little one. Don’t worry,” Lambert reassured her in a soft tone that Jaskier did not know the witcher was capable of. Clearly Ciri was deserving of his affections.

“We need to wait for him,” said Ciri in a tone that left no room for any arguments, “He would not have left our sides if any of us had been in the same situation.”

Jaskier found himself smiling at the girl’s fierce sense of loyalty. He wondered if Ciri was related to Geralt in some way, perhaps a daughter or niece? Even a sister, potentially? Jaskier had so many unanswered questions that he dared not voice out loud. Although Eskel seemed more civilised, Jaskier was not ready to face Lambert’s snarky attitude. Jaskier was tired, hungry and sore. A cranky Jaskier was an unpleasant Jaskier, which would not serve him at all if he were to make a good impression on the witchers and this Vesemir he yet had to meet. He would do anything to convince them to spare his life; a bad attitude would not go down well during negotiations.

“Ciri, we have to make haste before the first snow,” Eskel reasoned with her, “Geralt can take care of himself, trust me on this.”

“Please, Eskel, we can’t leave him here. We need to stick together, that’s what Vesemir always tells us!”

Jaskier observed Lambert’s and Eskel’s reactions closely. Both averted Ciri’s eyes while the young girl stared at them sternly, her arms crossed before her chest. All that was missing from the picture was Ciri tapping her foot impatiently on the ground to complete the impression of a scolding mother. Her words had clearly made an impression on both witchers. Their reaction reinforced Jaskier’s theory that Vesemir was presumably the patriarchal figure of the group.

“Alright. We’ll wait for Geralt to come back. Shouldn’t take him long,” Eskel decreed as he dismounted his horse and relieved the beast of its bridles and metal mouthpiece. Lambert swiftly followed with a resigned sigh. Meanwhile Ciri could not looked more pleased with herself if she tried. She flashed Jaskier a friendly smile as she made her way to him. Surprisingly, neither Lambert nor Eskel objected.

“Sometimes you need to be firm with those two,” Ciri told him, clearly not worried about keeping her voice down, “but they have their hearts in the right place.” Jaskier heard Eskel and Lambert mumble under their breaths, but they did not correct Ciri. Jaskier directed a tense smile at the young woman. She saw right through him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I… I’m just tired from all my adventures. I had enough excitement for a lifetime,” Jaskier joked, suddenly feeling nauseous. Out of nowhere, his throat felt dry and scratchy, his hands were moist. His heartrate picked up dramatically, making Jaskier feel lightheaded all over again. Jaskier’s legs suddenly gave out, causing the bard to tumble to the ground. He could vaguely make out Ciri’s voice calling out his name, but she sounded distant and hazy. The world started spinning around Jaskier. Something – or perhaps someone – grabbed his shoulder and shook him resolutely, which only worsened Jaskier’s nausea. He tried to find the strength to tell his captors that he was fine, that he just needed to lay down for a while, but his voice died in his throat as Jaskier’s body suddenly contorted in agony. The feeling came as unexpectedly as the nausea and dizziness, a shooting pain which started in his lower back and travelled through his nervous system like lightening. Jaskier’s blood felt like it was boiling in his veins and he feared that he would never again get enough air in his lungs. Panic merely added to his breathlessness as the intense pain pulled an ear-piercing howl from Jaskier. He had never felt such intense agony in his life. In his delirium, Jaskier brought a hand up to his chest and felt the heat emanating from the area through his thin shirt damp with his own sweat. It was like someone was marking him with a branding iron. The new sensation only heightened his panic.

Several more piercing screams filled the air as Jaskier thrashed against whoever was restraining him. Suddenly, Jaskier’s movement stilled as the pain subsided as quickly as it appeared. He lay motionless on the ground for a while, listening to Ciri’s voice gently coax him back to reality. He was leaning against someone else – either Lambert or Eskel, not that it mattered who it was. Jaskier was grateful for the support. The world was still spinning around him. Jaskier felt weaker than he did before, the aftermath of the experience leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“What’s that on his chest?” Ciri asked after a prolonged silence.

“I… I don’t know,” Eskel admitted. Jaskier could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “It looks like…”

“What happened to him?” a third unfamiliar voice spoke unexpectantly, causing Jaskier to flinch in surprise at the sudden interruption. Jaskier forced his vision to focus on the newcomer, but his head hurt from straining his eyes so soon after his episode. A pained groan pushed past his lips as he pinched his eyes close in a desperate attempt to keep the migraine at bay. Jaskier tried to rise to a seated position, but his efforts were stalled by a large hand on his chest pressing him down.

“He suddenly collapsed and started screaming in pain. And there’s also this… mark on his chest. Not sure if it was there before.”

A mark? Jaskier could not recall ever having any marks anywhere on his body apart from the odd freckle or mole here and there. His hand instinctively reached up to rest on his chest. The area was not scalding hot any longer, but it did feel tender to the touch. Jaskier was not sure what could have occasioned such a sensation. A deafening silence filled the forest around them, disturbed only by the distant snorting of the horses. Eventually Jaskier managed to adjust his eyes to the dim light of the torches without feeling excruciating pain. He did not recognise the man crouching next to him, although he guessed from the colloquial tone that he belonged to the group of witchers. The familiar yellow eyes also indicated a potential affiliation.

“Who are you?” Jaskier asked, mustering courage he did not know he possessed to address the newcomer who, for all he knew, shared Lambert’s opinion and wanted any human trespassing to die a horrible death. Unsurprisingly, the stranger did not dignify Jaskier with an answer.

“He’s too weak to walk. He’ll have to ride on one of the horses,” the stranger said, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating deep in Jaskier’s stomach. The ‘mark’ on his chest suddenly came alive again as a pleasant warmth spread through his chest and all the way to his fingertips.

“Jaskier, are you alright?” Ciri asked, her voice soft and kind. Jaskier was too dumbstruck to respond as his mind was too busy trying to make sense of what had just happened to him to string anything close to a coherent sentence.

“He’s in shock,” commented Eskel.

“He was fine when I left. When did it start?” the stranger enquired, causing Jaskier to pause. Could this be…?

“Shortly after you left, actually,” Lambert provided in a pensive tone, “one minute he was fine, and the next he was on the floor howling so loudly I was worried he would attract predators to our camp. Ciri insisted we wait for you.”

“That was not necessary. I can handle myself.”

“Try telling her that,” Eskel retorted, although Jaskier could hear the softness in his tone, “She used Vesemir’s words against us, Geralt. What were we supposed to do? The pup can play us like fiddles.”

So this was the mysterious Geralt in human form. Far from what Jaskier had initially envisioned. Broad-shouldered, grey-white hair reaching past his shoulders and loosely tied together at the back of the head, a shadow of a beard adorning the chiselled jawline and an angry red scar on the left side of his face. Facial scars seemed to be a witcher’s hallmark, Jaskier mused as he admired the man crouching over him. Geralt was heavily clad in thick leather armour which made him appear even larger and more intimidating. Were it not for the deep frown and palpable tension in the air, Jaskier was inclined to see Geralt as a handsome man. Had the circumstances of their meeting been any different, say if their paths had crossed in a tavern for instance, Jaskier would have definitely tried to sweet-talk his way into Geralt’s bed.

“You’re the wolf who pinned me down,” Jaskier mumbled almost as an afterthought. His brain still had not fully caught up with the situation. “You scared the living daylights out of me, you know?” Geralt ignored Jaskier’s comment in favour of placing a large hand on the bard’s forehead to check his body temperature.

“He’s feverish. Elevated heartbeat.”

“Maybe what triggered the aches in the first place,” Lambert suggested, but Geralt quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of the head.

“I could hear his screams from miles away. That kind of pain is not triggered by fever,” said Geralt. The witcher retracted his hand and rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving Jaskier. The bard suddenly felt self-conscious under the scrutiny and averted the intense yellow eyes carefully studying him.

“Maybe Vesemir will know,” Eskel offered.

“Maybe, but that’s not the reason we’re taking him to Kaer Morhen.”

Geralt’s tone indicated that the discussion was over. Jaskier felt a sharp pain in his chest comparable to having his chest hair plucked (which, of course, Jaskier had done many times before – some lovers appreciated smooth skin more than others) as Geralt moved away from him. He thought nothing of it as Eskel helped him rise to his feet and motioned for Jaskier to follow him to his chestnut mare.

“Easy there, Eimyr,” Eskel coaxed the horse gently as he adjusted her bridles and mouthpiece. Jaskier was unable to stifle his giggle in time, which earned him a questioning look from Eskel.

“Sorry, I… did you know that ‘Eimyr’ means hedgehog in Elder Speech?” Jaskier questioned Eskel as another involuntary giggle left him. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not mocking you, I just think it’s – well, sweet for a lack of better word,” he admitted, hoping that Eskel had not taken offence to his reaction. To Jaskier’s surprise, a small smile appeared on the witcher’s lips.

“The first thing I saw after buying her was a dead hedgehog on the side of the road. That’s where the name came from,” Eskel explained as he helped Jaskier into the saddle.

“Oh, well that’s… charming.”

“I like to think it’s original,” Eskel hopped into the saddle behind Jaskier and grabbed the reins tightly in his hand. Eimyr sighed at the added weight, but otherwise did not complain as her rider spurted her on by gently nudging her flanks with the heel of his boots. Jaskier’s back was pressed against Eskel’s firm chest, and although the close proximity to the witcher would have made anyone uncomfortable, Jaskier felt oddly safe. The bard’s gaze wandered to Geralt once more, but the grey haired witcher had his back turned on him as he listened to Ciri’s account of the events.

“That’s one way to put it,” said Lambert as he tightened the strap of his horse’s saddle, “Eskel, the poet. You called your previous horse evall because you couldn’t think of a better name other than ‘horse’.”

“At least I don’t call all my horses Roach… is that right, Geralt?”

“Less talking, we need to reach the keep fast. The air is heavy with snow. I want to reach Kaer Morhen before the human freezes to death,” was all Geralt said in response to Lambert’s taunt.

“My name is Jaskier!” said human corrected through clenched teeth. Geralt’s eyes met Jaskier’s but this time, the bard held the witcher’s stare and refused to look away. When crouched over him, Geralt appeared far more imposing than he did now. Jaskier allowed his raised position and Eskel’s proximity to embolden him into defying Geralt’s stern glare. The bard had plenty of practice at appearing more confident than he truly felt. His father had taught him from a young age that fear was man’s greatest weakness. Admittedly, Jaskier was at a disadvantage and in no position to fight the witchers even if he knew how to, but that was certainly no reason to treat him like a criminal when Jaskier had done nothing to deserve such a treatment. If anything, they should all be grateful that Jaskier happened upon Ciri and Geralt when he did or they would presently be mourning the death of one of their own.

“My apologies. I want to reach Kaer Morhen before Jaskier freezes to death,” Geralt eventually rectified.

The way his name rolled off Geralt’s tongue made Jaskier feel unexpectedly weak in the knees.

OoO

“Are you good at what you do, bard?” Eskel asked him out of the blue.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Any good songs you can sing until we reach the keep?” Eskel reformulated his question patiently.

“Oh yes, please sing us a song, master Jaskier,” Ciri begged before Jaskier could respond to Eskel’s enquiry. The young girl looked so enthusiastic, her cerulean blues eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement as she flashed Jaskier a wide smile. How could he say no to that face?

“I haven’t composed anything new for a while, but I suppose you lot will not have heard any of my previous work. I’m afraid it won’t sound the same without a lute,” Jaskier lamented, wondering if someone had already sold his precious instrument for a hefty sum. He would probably never see his lute again. It had been the last gift his mother had given him before she passed away from the plague, just after Jaskier had left the family home for Oxenfurt. He felt a pang in his chest as thoughts of his late mother flooded his mind.

“We’re not a fussy audience,” Ciri reassured him.

“If you must sing, at least spare us the love ballads,” Lambert piped up, earning himself a reprimanding look from Ciri.

“Why? Maybe I wanted to hear a love ballad!”

“Love ballads are nothing but frivolous fairy tales. There’s no such thing as true love or soulmates. What’s the point singing about things that don’t exist?”

Jaskier could not tell if this was Lambert winding Ciri up, or if the witcher genuinely felt that way. The bard hoped it was not the latter. Love was the only magic he had ever believed in until very recently. Love was a powerful and versatile thing. The romantic love between two people, a mother’s love for her children, a child’s love for their family pet, brotherly love, platonic love… all these variants were all valid and heart-moving in their own ways. Jaskier had always looked for the beauty in love, but he was well-aware that love could be painful, cruel and ugly. His parents had been trapped in a loveless marriage, and it was only his mother’s love for him that convinced her to stay, in spite of her husband’s hits and the insults he spat at her every day. Jaskier had of course been at the receiving end of a broken heart on several occasions, but he had never lost hope that one day he would find the right person. He was not sure whether he believed in soulmates or not, but the notion was romantic and Jaskier loved to incorporate this trope in his ballads.

However, Jaskier had also learned to always adapt to the crowd’s desires.

“Well, I want to listen to a love ballad,” Ciri argued back in a petulant tone.

“I’d rather throw myself off this cliff,” Lambert countered in similar fashion.

“Shut up, the both of you,” Geralt snapped, silencing both Ciri and Lambert. Jaskier watched the scene with amusement. He guessed, judging by their personalities, that Geralt and Eskel were the older members of the group. “We’re almost there, so you two spare me the bickering.”

“Surely you can come up with a new song for us now, bard,” Eskel swiftly changed the subject in an attempt to ease the tension.

“You mean right this instant?”

“It is your profession. I assume as a travelling bard you are no stranger to improvisation.”

Jaskier wished he were as talented at improvising as Eskel made him out to be. The truth was that Jaskier felt lost without his lute, paper and quill. He would spend most of his time on the road coming up with rhymes, jotting them down and plucking at the strings of his lute. Singing without being accompanied by the sound of his beloved instrument did not only feel wrong, but it was also completely out of Jaskier’s comfort zone. Unknown terrains, but nothing Jaskier could not overcome. All he needed was a suitable muse. He found that writing verses for someone had always come easiest to him. His eyes met Ciri’s expectant gaze as she cast a look over her shoulder. Sweet friendly Ciri who stuck out like a sore thumb among these hardened witchers.

“Alright then, here goes… you think you’re safe, without a care, but here in these lands you’d be wise to beware. The pike with the spike that lurks in your drawers, or the flying drake that will fill you with horror. Need old Nan the Hag to stir up a potion so that your lady may get an abortion.”

“For the love of… we have innocent ears here!” Lambert cried out loud, earning himself a glare from Ciri.

“Is that truly the best you can do?” Eskel enquired, his tone barely concealing his disappointment. Jaskier did his best not to flinch.

“I have lacked inspiration recently,” Jaskier defended himself, forcing a smile on his lips, “but no doubt when you let me go I will sing of the chivalry of witchers who spare the lives of innocent humans who dare wander too closely to their keep. I could perhaps be your barker, maybe even improve your image. People won’t see you as heartless brutes, but as virtuous knights when I’m done telling your heroic tale!”

“Spare us, bard,” Lambert groaned, “you would probably do more bad than good with your poor skills.”

“What about you, Geralt?” Jaskier found himself asking, “what have you got to say about my singing? Come on, what’s your review, three words or less.”

Geralt did not reply straight away, and Jaskier considered it a win that the witcher had yet to tell him to fuck off.

“They don’t exist,” Geralt finally provided after long minutes of silence. Jaskier frowned in confusion.

“What don’t exist?”

“The creatures in your song.”

Well, that was unexpected to say the least. Jaskier had anticipated everything from insults to dismissal, but this comment had not featured on the list of possible responses the bard had expected Geralt to provide. It only perplexed Jaskier further.

“Alright, other than the content, how was my singing?” Jaskier prodded further.

“It’s like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling.”

Jaskier scoffed indignantly at those words, momentarily at loss for what to say. He had never ever been so plainly insulted by anyone. Somehow, the fact that Geralt had been the one to utter these words made the pill ever so hard to swallow. Jaskier had expected that kind of remark from Lambert. The bard could not explain why it bothered him so much that Geralt seemed to abhor his singing with such passion.

“You need a nap.”

Perhaps Jaskier was still hallucinating, but he thought he heard Geralt chuckle under his breath. Dick. Jaskier was silent for the remaining of the journey. He found himself dosing off until Eskel’s mare broke into a sudden gallop as they finally came closer to their destination. Kaer Morhen, the witchers’ keep. Jaskier never thought he would ever live to see the day where he of all people got to lay eyes on the fabled fortress. He merely wished the circumstances for his visit were different. Jaskier dared a look over his shoulder, noticing the pink and purple hues that tinted the sky.

The sun was rising over Kaer Morhen, bringing with it a new day and new hopes. Jaskier’s heart dropped in his chest. He truly hoped this would not be the last sunrise he ever saw.

TBC.

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#geralt x jaskier #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #dandelion x geralt #geralt x dandelion #witcher geralt #alternate universe #soulmates

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