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kateneedscoffee · 3 years

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Break My Heart

Synopsis: Falling in love with your best friend hurts even though they don’t feel the same way

Requested: No

Pairings: Any character you like x gn!reader

(y/c/n)= Your character name

words= thoughts

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, and cussing (or if you’re sensitive about your height)

Author’s Note: This is my first ever fic, so please bear with me.

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Today is the day that I tell them about my feelings, the feelings I've had for so long. Ever since the day met.....

This is nice. The atmosphere was peaceful, with some people sipping their morning coffee and reading the daily newspaper. And here I was reading my book.

I was too busy reading my book and I didn’t even notice the figure in front on me. They knocked on the table, gaining my attention.

“Hey”, they said “do you mind if I sit here? There’s some people that I don’t feel comfortable in here and there’s no more empty seats.”

“Sure”. I said. They pulled out the chair and sat down. I inspected them, a habit of mine as a child, they look friendly, and I didn’t sense any harm in them. But, one thing caught my eye, they were beautiful/handsome. They were dressed as a model. Their hair neatly combed and it looks fluffy to the touch.

“Like what you see?” a small smirk on their perfect features.

“S-s-sorry! I didn't mean to stare.” Feeling my face turn red. A laugh erupted from them. “You’re fine, hun. I get this a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so many people will stare at me cause of how I'm dressed or ‘how beautiful I am.’ Mimicking the parentheses.

“Well, you are beautiful coming from a stranger that you just met.” you said. pointing a finger at your chest.

“I’m (y/c/n)” holding out their hand.

“I’m (y/n)” taking their hand.

And that’s how our friendship started...

They should be here by now. Sitting on one of the tables, looking for them. I’ve told them to come meet me at the new boba place, that’s just open up a few days ago. There weren’t that many people in the food court, some families here and there, some couples holding hands, or some people just want to walk around and do some shopping. Maybe I should text them. Sighing, I brought out my phone and tapped on their contact.

You: Hey, where are you? I’m near the place where we should have met up 10min ago.

Looking up from my phone, and seeing the crowd was twice the size as before.

Them: IMSORRY!!!!!! MY BOSS SAID HE NEEDED ME FOR A MINUTE AND IT TURNED OUT AN HOUR. IM COMING RIGHT NOW.

You: Please hurry. The crowd is getting bigger and I don’t think I could survive here😞

Them: STAY PUT. AND DON’T WONDER OFF SOMEWHERE. OR I HAVE TO GO TO THE FRONT DESK AND SAY IVE LOST MY CHILD.

You: Shut up

Them: I love teasing you😁

I smiled at the last text message from them. Deciding to play some games on your phone to pass some time.

After a few rounds of winning and losing. You've felt a hand on your shoulder. Startling you, you give out a small screech. A loud laugh coming from the culprit that startled you. A few people turned their hands, wondering what’s happening.

“YOU SCARED ME!!!! I WAS THIS CLOSE FROM THROWING HANDS.”

“YEAH RIGHT. YOU CANT EVEN REACH MY HEIGHT.” Having to clutch their stomach from laughing too hard. Putting your head down the table, trying to hide the blush on your face.

“Okay, okay, okay, i’m sorry for making fun of your height. Can my friend please come out? Ill pay for the boba for running late and making fun of you” (y/c/n) says hoping to bring your spirits up.

By lifting your head up and agreeing to the offer. Getting up from your seat and walked to the boba station.There’s now a short line. You looked at (y/c/n) more closely, seeing them in their work outfit with sightly messed up hair, probably from running to get here, and some expensive sunglasses you’ve got them on their birthday.

When done ordering your drinks and (y/c/n) pays them. Walking away from the station. Sipping your drink and made a content noise. “That good, huh?” Nodding your head. They chuckled and took a sip from their drink. “Your right, it’s good” Taking another sip from their drink.

“Hey, do you want to go to the arcade? It should be downstairs, if I remember right.” Scratching behind their neck.

“Sure, but don’t you have work tomorrow? I don't want you to get yelled at your boss for being late.” Remembering from last month event.

“Nope,” popping the ‘p’. “I’m off tomorrow.” “Cool, that means you get to hang out with me.” “I sure do.” A smile adorning their features.

Walking down the stairs and taking a few turns to arrive at the arcade. We’ve finished our drinks at the time and threw them down the trash before going inside and order some coins to play with the games.

“Hey, do you want to play some air hockey? I’ll give you 3 candy bars if you win” (y/c/n) smirked. Pride swelling up in their chest.

“And if you win?” “You’ll buy me some more boba” You thought it over, a small smile creeping up your face “deal”.

When walking in and found a few kids were playing and decided to call out saying can we go next. They shooked their heads, “Nah, you old hags can wait after we’re done or decide to call winner?”, one of them piped up. “How about this, us vs. you?” (y/c/n) said. They've turned their head towards you, waiting for your response. Forgetting the deal, and agree to take on the group of children’s challenge.

“(Y/N), you go first and take these damn children down.” Giving you the striker and put some of our coins in the slot. The table was blowing up with air.

“Ready to go down, midget?” placing the puck down and giving you a glare.

“Oh, you are on you demon”

He hit the puck and it went inside my slot. Shocked over came you and it quickly disappear. “So, that's how you want to play, huh?” Getting the pluck out and hitting the exact force and speed to went inside his slot. “You’re going to wish that you never made a deal with us.” A evil smile that betrayed your innocence.

After winning the match against the children and we've bought some ice cream for them as a ‘good game’.

It was dark, when heading out of the mall due to the winter hours.

“Those kids made a mistake by challenging us.” (y/c/n) says, by putting both of their arms behind their neck and giving out a stretch.

“yeah”, too busy thinking on how to properly say your confession.

Noticing your odd behavior and stopped in front of you.”Is something wrong? Your not sick are you?” they said, voiced with concern. Putting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature.

“I’m fine, I need to tell you something first though.” Swatting their hand away lightly. Im going to do it. Right here. Right now.

“Sure, tell me what’s on your mind.” Their full attention on you.

Taking a deep breath, and to relax your mind from racing. You cleared your throat and looked up at them.

“I like you. I like because you always stick by my side. I like you teasing me, no matter if it’s about my height or not. I like you, no matter if you look like a hot mess in the morning or if have drool on your face. I like you because you’re so nice to me and you always take care of me when I'm sick. I like you-”

“STOP,” startling you out of your confession. “Just stop, it was very sweet of you to say that to me, but I don't feel the same way about you. Im sorry.” Looking at you, see your head bowed down.

“(y/n), are you okay?”

Lifting your head up. A few tears streaming down your face. You quickly wiped them with your sleeve. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” Another tear fell down without you noticing, (y/c/n) tried to wiped it with their sleeve, but you quickly flinched from their touch.

“Please, don’t touch me. Or else i’m going to cry even more.” You whispered.

Quickly nodding at your words turning their back at you, you spoke up again. “Can you please do something for me, though?”, you said.

They've turned at you and nodded, and you grabbed their hand. Placing it on top of your heart. “Break my heart. Say that I’m just a friend to you, please”

“You’re just a friend to me. Like a little sister.” After those words, you released their arm and walked past them. Tears rolling down your face, quietly whispering, “Thank you, for being my friend.”

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A/N: Wahhh, this broke my heart and I was thinking about this before typing it down. Sorry, if there’s spelling or grammar errors. My English is not very good. I hope you guys liked it tho.

#kuroo angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #sakusa kyoomi x reader #any person you like #any character #fanfic #natewantstobattle #battle boys #natemare

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flashlightbaee · 3 years

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Magical // chapter one (the vampire diaries)

first 21 chapters on Wattpad now! user: mscvro

discription:

[Book 1]

QUOTE| ❝I'm Nike❞ ❝Like the goddess of victory❞

━━ 歡迎

. . . Witches in Mystic Falls are nothing new. Hell the entire Bennet family originates from there. Amongst other supernaturals, they are considered great helpers and sometimes even dear friends. Will the new witch in town be able to find her place in the strange town.

❨ multiple x fem!oc ❩

❨ the vampire diaries ❩

❨ season 2 - probably 8 ❩

❨ ©️ mscvro ✧*.｡ ❩

Disclaimer

this story will narrate the protagonist story over many seasons/years in the tvd-universe. there will be multiple love interest for her but everything is "realistically" paced and mostly follows the plot of the show(s). if you want something that is solely focused on a love story and faster paced maybe try my other stories. if you decide to read, i am thankful that you take on this journey with me.

have fun!!!

"Honey? Are you ready to go to the masquerade ball?" Kira Rose asks her daughter who is staring at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out whether all of her hair is curled or she missed a strand.

"In a minute. Even though I'm still not keen on going. Mom, I don't know anyone here." Nike complains. Her mother sighs.

"One more reason to go. Maybe you'll find some friends." Mrs Rose walks up behind Nike and begins to caress the girl's arms. "Just like a normal girl."

"But I'm not normal, mom. I'm a witch." Nike says and turns around, deciding that her hair is fine. She gives her mother a look before grabbing her back. "It's hard to make friends when you have magic in your veins and trouble keeps on coming your way."

"That's why we moved, baby. So that you can have a fresh start. Just give it a try, okay? For me." Mrs Rose smiles softly.

"I will try but I don't guarantee for anything."

"Good enough for me."

Nike soon comes to regret her promise. The Masquerade ball is boring and not being able to see anyone's face makes this whole getting-to-know-thing even harder. With a glass of lemonade in her hands, Nike paces through the hallways and watches the other guests drink, talk and dance. No one catches her interest until she spots a blonde girl, standing next to the staircase.

She isn't wearing a mask and can't seem to take her eyes off a blond boy who is joking around with two girls. Nike studies her and tries to figure out whether she is an Ex-girlfriend or secret admirer. Soon the boy catches her look and sends her a small yet awkward smile which the blonde replies.

However, as soon as he turns around to walk off with the girls, her smile fades and turns into an almost regretful expression. Nike first hesitates but finally walks over to check on the girl. After all it's only appropriate and she has proof that she at least attempted to find friends.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asks. The blonde jumps in surprise but then nods.

"Yes, it's just my Ex-boyfriend...long story. Thanks for asking." she forces a smile but still seems genuine. "You're not from Mystic Falls, are you? I've never seen you around."

"I just moved here from New Orleans with my mom."

"Uhh, well, welcome then." The girl smiles widely.

"Thank you."

"I'm Caroline, by the way. Caroline Forbes." she introduces herself and extends her hand.

"I'm Nike Rose. Nice to meet you." They shake hands.

"Nice to meet you too. Do you go to Mystic High now?"

"Yes, Monday is my first day," Nike says and Caroline opens her mouth to say something when her phone peeps. She pulls it out of her little back and looks down at it.

"Nice meeting you, Nike. I gotta go. See you on Monday." she says as she starts walking away. "I'm really sorry." Nike doesn't even get a chance to reply when Caroline has already disappeared in the crowd.

"That went well." The brunette mumbles to herself and takes another sip from her lemonade. As she is starting to feel hungry, she makes it her mission to find a Buffett. The only one she can find is in a room full of candles and a massive mirror. It almost looks like a room in one of the castles she visited in Europe.

The room is completely empty except for a girl and a woman who are having a rather heated conversation. Assuming they are mother and daughter, Nike walks in, grabs a muffin from the desk and is about to leave when the conversation catches her attention.

"Look, I have no interest in fighting you." The woman says.

"Then stop the spell you put on my friend." Spell? Nike silently leaves the room and hides behind the door to keep listening to them without having to fear them seeing her. If there is another witch in town that could either solve many of her problems or cause a bunch of new ones.

"Give Katherine the moonstone and I will."

"Why are you helping Katherine? Don't you know what she is?" The woman gives her a challenging look.

"Tell your friends to hand over the moonstone and all will be groovy." She attempts to leave but the girl blocks her path.

"You're not leaving this room until you stop the spell." The woman sighs.

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"No, I don't wanna hurt you." the girl seems really serious about this and is very brave to challenge a much older witch like this.

"Look, I don't have a choice. The bitch saved my life, and now I owe her. I have to pay up." She wants to leave again but the girl grabs her arm, making the woman look up shocked.

"You have the moonstone." The girl quickly let go. "I can sense it on you." The woman grabs the girls hands and the lights start to flicker. "Do you feel that? You can trust me. Give it to me. It's ok."

"Even if I do, what are you going to do? You can't give the stone to Katherine. Trust me, you cant." Nike studies the woman's face and soon finds that she has no answer.

"I think, I can help with that." She gathers all her courage and steps out from behind the door. The witches give her a shocked look.

"Who are you?" the girl asks anxiously.

"I'm Nike. I'm a witch too." The girl eyes her for a moment.

"I'm Bonnie. This is Lucy." she says and slowly starts to walk over to Nike. "What did you mean, you can help?"

"Well, I overheard your conversation and I think I might have an idea how to fix your problem."

"Why would you want to help us?" The woman asks and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Because witches need to stick together." Nike shrugs. "Do you want to hear about my idea or not?" Bonnie and the woman share a look and then nod.

"Shoot."

#the vampire diaries #the originals #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #bonnie bennett #tvd #katherine pierce #elena gilbert #jeremey gilbert #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

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qveenmikaelson · 4 years

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Lost Without You - Part 1

Parings: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Prompts: #13“I Loved You And You Still Left Me” & #15 “If I Could Go Back And Do It All Over, I Would Do Anything To Get You Back.” From @xxwritemeastoryxx 1k Challenge

Warnings: None , A Little Agsnt , Some Fluff, Some Strong Dialogue

Arthur’s Note: Hi Everyone . This Is My First Fic In A Long Time So I Might Be A Little Rusty. Sorry For Any Mistakes , And I Hope You Like It .

You Felt Nervous As You Made Your Way Into The Mikaelson Compound Fidgeting With Your Fingers As You Still Tried To Process The News You Just Recieved. An Hour. You’ve Only Managed To Be Gone An Hour And It Seems As Though Your World Has Made A Complete 360. You Had Gone Into The City For A Doctor’s Appointment That You Had Scheduled Seeing As Though For The Past Couple Of Days You Haven’t Been Feeling Yourself. Light-headedness, Loss Of Appetite, Moody, Drowsiness, The Whole Nine. You Name It You Had It.

Klaus Insisted On Just Compelling A Doctor To Come To The Compound Instead Of Letting You Out Into The City On Your Own, Especially After Recent Events Involving Some Vampires.

“I Only Want To Do Whats Best For You Love”

“I’m Only Going Into The City For An Hour , Two At The Max.. I’m Not A Little Kid , I’m A Grown Woman Who Can Handle Her Own” You’d Explain .. Or At Least Tried Too

“I Can’t Stand The Thought Of Seeing You Hurt, Or Losing You” Klaus Replied Back

“It’s A Doctors Visit, I Will Be Fine, And In An Hour I’ll Be Making My Way Back Here To You”

As You Walked Out Of His Study You Never Thought You’d Be Going To Recieve Life Changing News. You Were Pregnant. About 12 Weeks Per Doctors Examination. You Honestly Didn’t Think It To Be Possible, Nobody Did Actually, Vampires Couldn’t Procreate, But Then Again Nik Wasn’t JUST A Vampire. The Whole Ride Back You Were Trying To Wrap Your Head Around The Fact That You Were Carrying A Living Human. Or At Least For The Time Being. It’s Not That You Didn’t Want Children, You Very Much So Want Kids Of Your Own, But Being With Klaus For About 3 Years Now You Wrapped Your Head Around The Fact That It Was Merrly Impossible To Have Kids With A Hybrid.

You Didn’t Exactly Know What You Were Going To Tell Klaus, Or How , Or How He Would React But You Knew It Had To Be Done, Sooner Rather Than Later.

You Were So Caught Up In Your Thought That You Didn’t Really Notice You Were Passing Rebekah On The Stairs

“Earth To YN”

“My Fault.. I Didn’t Really See You There”

“You Okay.. How Did Everything Go? You’re Not Dying Are You, Because We Will March Right Back Up There And Gi-“

“Beks ! I’m Okay Sheesh” You Laughed Out “Just A Little Cold Is All, Doctor Gave Me Some Medicine And I’ll Be Good To Go”

“Alright Just Making Sure.. Looks Like You Seen A Ghost, But In This World Today I Wouldn’t Put It Past Everything” She Said Taking In My Current State

“I’m Good .. I Promise, Anyways Is Klaus Still In His Study” You Asked As You Looked Up The Stairs

“You Know It, Probably Thinking Of Ways To Tourture His Enemies”

“Like Always” You Laughed And Made Your Way Up The Stairs To Klaus

Each Step You Took You Felt Your Heart Beat Faster, At The Rate It Was Going It Probably Would Beat Right Out Of Your Chest. As You Made Your Way To Klaus’ Study You Could See Him With A Glass Of Bourbon In This Hand Starring Out Into The Busy Streets Of The French Quarter.

“It’s Now Or Never” You Thought Walking Further In

“See I’m Back, And In One Piece” You Joked Walking Closer To Klaus

“Hm”

Brushing Off The Dry Response You’d Just Recieved You Proceded To Start This Conversation Because If You Didn’t Do It Now Who Knows When You Would Tell Him

“So I Found Out What Was Wrong.. And We Kinda Need To Sit And Talk I Have Something I Want To Tell You”

“And I You” Klaus Said Turning Around To Face You

“Alright Well You Can Go First .. What Is It You Need To Tell Me” You Said Stitting On The Edge Of The Desk Patting The Spot Next To You

But When He Didn’t Move You Started To Get This Strange Feeling, That Something Was Wrong, Something Had Happened In That Hour You Were Gone, And The Look On Klaus’ Face Confirmed It .. But What Was It

“What’s Wrong .. Wait Don’t Tell Me , Is It Kol” You Laughed Out “Or Is It Some Witches Again.. I’m Convinced You’re Never Going To Be On Their Good Side” You Said Smiling Trying To Lighten The Tense Atmosphere

“Oo Or Maybe It’s Some Old Enem-“

“We Can’t Be Together Anymore” Klaus Said Interrupting You Mid Sentence

“Excuse Me” You Questioned

I Mean You Heard Him, Clear As Day, You Just.. You Were Shocked , Confused, Was He Being Serious. But Then Again When Is Klaus Ever Not Serious.

Standing Straight Up Off The Desk “What Do You Mean We Can’t Be Together Anymore Nik, You Got To Be Joking Right Now”

“When Have You Known Me To Joke Around Love”

“Then Why Are You Saying This.. Where Did This Come From?” You Questioned Slightly Raising Your Voice

“I Can’t Protect You The Way I Need Too An-“ Klaus Started To Explain But You Cut Him Off

“And You Think Breaking Up With Me Is The Best Way To Do That .. Bullshit” You Said Laughing A Little Because You Couldn’t Believe Any Of This Right Now

“Yes! This Is The Only Way!”

“No It’s Not” You Yelled “You Think It Is. THREE YEARS KLAUS.. THREE!! And Now You Want To Do Whats Best For Me.. To Protect Me , We’re Past That”

“Yn.. Please Understand I Am Doing This For You. My Enemies.. The- They’ll Never Stop Coming And As Long As You’re With Me They’ll Continue To Use You To Get To Me”

“I Can’t Believe This Right Now” You Said Starting To Pace Back And Fourth In Front Of Him

Trying To Wrap Your Head Around What Was Taking Place Right Now You Completely Forgot That You Were Supposed To Tell Him About The Pregnancy, But How Were You Going To Tell Him Now When He’s Trying To End Your Whole Relationship

“You Can’t Be Serious Right Now .. You Can’t . Three Years? Klaus” You Stopped Pacing To Look At Him

“Please Try To Unders-“

“Understand What! .. You Can’t Possibly Expect Me To Belive That You Want To Break Up With Me To Protect Me” You Paused For A Second And Then Looked Up “No”

“No?” Klaus Asked Seeming A Little Confused At Your Single Worded Responce

“I’m Not Leaving .. Were In This Together , Always And Forever Right? You Told Me I Was Now Apart Of That Vow So No .. I’m Not Leaving”

“Love I-“

“No .. We’ve Both Given So Much To This Relationship For Me To Just Agree To Leave And The Fact That You Actually Let Those Words Come Out Of Your Mouth Is Really Appauli-“ You Were Cut Off By Klaus But What He Said Next You Didn’t Think You’d Hear Him Say. I Mean It Was Your Fear To Hear Those Words Come From Him. For Someone Who Was Just As Equally Scared Of Letting Someone In As You Were When You First Met, You Didn’t Think You’d Ever Hear Him Udder Those Words

“I Don’t Love You Anymore”

And With Those Five Little Words You Felt Your Whole World Come Crashing Down Infront Of You. At Least That’s What It Felt Like Because In A Way He Was.. He Is Your Whole World. Moving To New Orleans Some Years Back You Dropped Everything In Your Hometown And Never Looked Back, You Haven’t Spoken To Your Two Brothers In So Long, Some Fight That Happened And If You Were Being Honest With Yourself, You Don’t Even Remember What You Three Were Fighting About. So In A Sense Klaus And His Flamily Were All You Had At This Point In Time

“You What”

“I Don’t Love You Anymore Yn” He Said Looking Away And In That Moment You Just Knew He Had To Be Lying “I’m Breaking Up With You Because I Don’t Have A Need For You Anymore, So There’s No Reason For You To Be Here”

“Wow .. I Guess Always Isn’t Forever After All” You Said As The Tears You’ve Been Trying To Hold Back This Whole Time Started To Fall

“I Guess Not Love .. So You Best Be Making Your Way”

Walking Up To Him And Placing Your Hands On Both Sides Of His Face You Forced Him To Look At You “You Cant Do This .. Not Like This .. To Us.” You Said Tears Now Streaming “I Love You .. And I’m Going To Fight . There’s No Way I’m Not Leaving Without A Fight”

“I Was Afraid You’d Say That”

At First You Were Confused By What He Meant But You Soon Understood. All The Things You Thought He’d Never Do He’s Managed To Do In A Couple Of Minutes .. Break Your Heart .. And Compel You “Klaus No”

“You’re Going To Leave Here” Klaus Said Has He Pushed Your Hands Off Of Him And Grabbed Your Shoulders Looking You In Your Deep Y/E/C “You’re Going To Pack All Of Your Stuff, And You’re Going To Walk Out Of That Door.. Out Of This Compound.. And Out Of New Orleans .. You’re Going To Go Live Your Life And Meet Someone New Who Can Give You The Life You’ve Deamed Of .. And You’re Going To Put Me And My Toxic Family Behind , Once You Walk Out Of That Dior You’re Going To Forget About Me And Elijah .. Rebekah .. Everyone .. This Conversation” He Said Tears Slowly Falling

“Forget About Us.. And Leave”

And Just Like That .. You Were Gone

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9 Months Later

Over The Next Six Months Of Your Pregnancy After You Left You Did Everything You Needed To Do To Make Sure You Were Prepared To Bring A New Life Into This World You Were Scared But Once It Happened You Wouldn’t Have Changed A Thing. You Had A Beautiful Baby Boy .. Kase ‘Pronounced Case’ And You Loved Him With Everyone Ounce Of Your Body The Last Three Months Have Been A World Wind, You Reconnected With Your Brothers, You Made Some New Friends, And You Were Still Getting Used To The Fact That You Were A Mother Now .. With A New Born.. That Looked Exactly.Like.His.Father .. Klaus

You Still Remembered .. In Fact You Rememebred Everything .. After That Situation That Involved Some Vamipres You Took It Upon Yourself To Get A Locket Made .. Spelled So That No One Could Compel You. So Klaus’ Atempt To Compel You That Day Didn’t Work. And Even Though It Hurt So Bad To Walk Away You Did. Not Because You Didn’t Love Him , In Fact You Still Love Him. You Left Because It Was Clear Where He Stood .. He Took Away Your Choice By Attempting To Compel You .. So Against Every Grain In Your Body .. You Walked Out The Door .. And Never Looked Back

These Last 9 Months Haven’t Been Easy To Say The Least .. There Were Countless Night You Cried Your Eyes Out, Waking Up Out Of Nightmares Calling For Klaus And Him Not Being There , Moments In Your Pregnancy You Wanted So Bad To Have Him Be Apart Of. Yes You Had Your Family Back And You Had Friends That Were There For You .. But If You Were Being Honest You Felt Lost Without Him . You Honestly Felt Crushed, And You Had Been Strong About The Situation For So Long That You Never Thought Of How Much You Love Him.

You Were Currently Cleaning Up The House . You Had A Small But Spacious 2 Bed Room Apartment In Atlanta Ga. You Had Just Put Baby Kase Down For A Nap And Was About To Take Advantage Of The Down Time You Had When Your Door Bell Rang. When You Opened It The Person You Least Expected To See Was Standing At Your Door Step.

“Hello Love”

Tbc ..

#dom1kchallenge #klaus mikaelson #klaus imagine #fluff #mikaelsonfamily #imagines #the originals

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 4 years

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Forgotten Alliance Ch 48

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Author’s Note: We’ve made it to the five year mark in the timeline and I am freaking out about this. I’ve got a few more surprises up my sleeve before this comes to an end. Happy reading guys!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

“It’s a beautiful day outside. Streets are packed with tourists. They’re drinking beers, they’re chasing beads, headed out on the vampire walking tour of New Orleans. They think it’s just a myth. Just part of our city’s charm.” Vincent said as he paced in front of all those that were sitting in the pews of the rebuilt St. Anne’s. “Well, we know better. Just like we know that there’s a storm coming. This week marks five years since the fall of the Mikaelsons.” The words had caused Elizabeth to flinch slightly as she stood off to the side. Five years. It had been that long and now she was so close to the cure. “Five years of peace. And we paid a high price for that peace. We witches, we earned that peace. We snatched back our freedom, we severed our link with our ancestors. To take back our city, we backed Elizabeth. Now, since then, we fought hard to build this community which has been thriving with Elizabeth’s help. And in the next week, as we celebrate our independence, that community will be challenged because every year we get visitors.” Vincent looked over at Elizabeth and nodded.

Elizabeth stepped forward and looked at the witches and a few others that sat before her. “As usual, I will be hosting the annual get together that the vampires assume I am throwing.” Elizabeth took a deep breath before continuing. “For the next few days I will be continuing the facade that I am a creature without her humanity. While I may act cruel during that time, I want you to know that you are safe from any harm.” She looked at several at the witches with a smile. “Veronica, as you know, will be with you while the vampires are in town. And as I’m sure most of you know, she can take down any vampire, young or old, that may be a threat. If anyone comes to try and torment your coven, know that she will be there to make sure it stays untouched.”

Elizabeth looked over at Vincent for a moment and he gave her a small smile and a nod. “After the vampires leave, it gives us another year of peace.” Elizabeth knew that was a lie. She still hadn’t told anyone that the Mikaelsons would be back within a short time. The chaos that could follow wasn’t something she wanted to think about now. While it would be a mess that she should be able to clean up, she knew that she wouldn’t be the one to do so. It would hopefully be Elijah that would be able to take her place in keeping the city as it had been while she was gone. “By the time they come for a visit again, I’m hoping to move the party elsewhere or get rid of it in its entirety.” She said with a smile. “I just ask for now that you watch each other’s backs. These visitors know the rules but will do anything to test them. So be cautious and if any of them even attempt to, you are all welcomed to watch their demise.”

“That is all for now.” Vincent said walking to stand by Elizabeth. “If anything new comes up at all, I’ll send word to meet back here.”

Elizabeth watched as everyone began standing up and leaving or began talking with each other. “I hate this.” Elizabeth said before looking over at Vincent.

“You could always turn them away.” Vincent said with a nod as he watched everyone as well. “There doesn’t need to be a celebration.”

“Then they’ll find reasons to stay.” Elizabeth said shaking her head. “It will cause suspicion and I’m sure they will end up wanting more proof that I can never give them.”

“They are still wanting answers for Elijah’s sireline aren’t they?” Vincent asked.

“There are always several.” Elizabeth said. “They believe that if the Mikaelsons have really fallen, Elijah’s sireline would have died along with him. I tell them its for my own sanity but what vampire, that has their humanity off, would worry about not having a sane mind?”

“They are expecting you to give up Elijah’s location.” It wasn’t a question but Elizabeth nodded anyways.

“Vincent, I hope you know that even if they try to burn this city to the ground to get me to say anything, I wont.” Elizabeth said as she looked back to see a few stragglers standing in the church. “Not when it comes to Elijah’s life and our bond. I will do anything to keep him safe.”

“While that does worry me,” Vincent began as he looked over at Elizabeth. “it also worries me that you have that warehouse not far from the city limits. Whatever it is that you are doing in there, it has people talking.”

“And what is it they are saying?” Elizabeth asked already knowing some of the rumors that have been said.

“That you are still trying to find someway to bring back Elijah and the others.” Vincent shook his head. “I was to believe that you had given up on finding the cure after you had come back from your trip empty handed.”

Elizabeth smirked. “It was your mistake believing a set back would stop me from saving my mate. You of all people should know that it is only a matter of time before they come back.”

“What’s going to happen when they come back here?” Vincent asked.

Elizabeth shrugged slightly. “To be honest, I have no idea. That is something that will be dealt with when the day is upon us.” Even though I wont be here. She added mentally. She wouldn’t say the words out loud. Not yet. So far everyone that was aware of what she was doing thought she would still be around when the Mikaelsons came back. “I have to get going if I am going to make it back in time for when they start arriving.”

“Where are you going?” Vincent asked curiously. He knew that Elizabeth had just come from the warehouse to speak with the witches on their plans for the week.

“I need some time to collect my thoughts.” She lied as she began walking towards the exit. “I do have a part to play the next few days.” Without another word she left St. Anne’s.

_____

The slight breeze had felt great on Elizabeth’s skin. It didn’t matter if she was in the dream world or not, it felt as real as it could be. She and Elijah were currently sitting on top of a hill overlooking much of the house and the lake that Freya had added in. It was a great scenery and it had been a while since Elizabeth had a moment of just peace as they were now.

After Elizabeth had shown Hayley the warehouse, she started visiting more often. Hayley promised to keep the secret that Elizabeth had been carrying. After a long conversation and airing out everything, Hayley and Elizabeth had an understanding of what needed to be done in order to get the cure. Hayley encouraged Elizabeth to visit more and Elizabeth agreed to that.

The moment Elizabeth had entered the dream world, Elijah never left her side. If it wasn’t for the fact that she needed time to feed, Elizabeth would have gladly spent several days not stop there until Elijah’s siblings demanded she leave for a bit.

“What is it?” Elijah asked as he watched Elizabeth. Even though it didnt seem as though she had caught the several sighs that had passed her lips, he had.

Elizabeth turned towards him and smiled at him. “Thinking.” She said softly. It was the truth but it wasn’t elaborated. There was so much going on outside of this spell that she would have to worry about. But in this moment, she was thinking about how much things would be different once they were out of this place. “All this time and I thought I would have you out of here so much earlier.”

“Liz,” he said running his hand through her hair. Hearing the nickname from him still seemed to hold a deeper meaning than when anyone else had. “You are doing the best you can. That is all we can ask for.”

Her smile faded slightly. “I know. I always wonder what would have happened if things had been done differently. But I think this time, I know that this is what was meant to happen.”

“What made you start to believe that?” He asked with a small smile.

“It’s been five years, Elijah.” She said shaking her head slightly. “I’ve tried so many different things and none of them have turned out as I hoped. As much as I hate to think about it, there were reasons all of that failed. It just took me going through it all to realize that you cant change what is supposed to happen.”

“You know something?” Elijah asked.

Elizabeth gave him a smile even though it didnt reach its full potential whenever she was around him. “I know you’ll be awake soon.” She gave a small nod with her words. “And that is all that matters to me at this moment.”

“You’ve had Jess show you more of her visions.” Elijah knew that Elizabeth had seen several of them over the last few years. But he had remembered Elizabeth saying she had no longer wanted to know the details as they got closer to being true.

“No.” She said shaking her head. “I’ve just been having a sense of Deja vu since she showed me what she had.” She took a deep breath in before letting it out. “I saw the last piece of the vision she showed me weeks ago. And that can only mean one thing to me. That you will be cured and awake from this spell soon. I may not know if it will be today, tomorrow or later this week, but I know you’ll be cured soon. I just can feel it.”

A smile pulled at Elijah’s lips. “Hearing you say that feels surreal. We’ve been here so long, it is hard to fully picture the real world.”

“You got a glance with Hope’s spell.” She reminded him with a chuckle.

“A two minute preview to the real thing.” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips.

That glimpse into the world after not seeing Elizabeth for so long had helped keep him sane until she came for a visit. All the things she had mentioned about the changes she had made to the compound had been exactly as she described. The familiarity of it being their home with touches of Elizabeth in places that he could see, had brought comfort to him.

When the spell ended, he was reminded that there would be a day that he would be free from all of this. That as soon as things worked in their favor, Elizabeth and Hayley would have them all cured and awake. Things could go back to way things were. Well, as much as they could be with the circumstances. He knew that some things had changes since the entered the spell. But as long as they were together, Elijah was sure that things would be better.

A thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind and she smiled to herself before looking at Elijah. “I know that I hardly say this, but Rebekah was right.”

Elijah laughed and shook his head. “And what is my sister right about?”

“We all deserve to go on some kind of vacation somewhere.” She nodded her head. “I get that you guys will need to get back into the swing of living again, but what better way to do that than to spend a few months lounging in a place without worrying about anything.”

“And where do you suppose we go?” He asked watching her with a smile on his face.

“Anywhere.” She said with her own smile growing. “Just somewhere away from New Orleans. It can be all of us or even just the two of us.”

“I like that idea.” He said watching as the excitement grew in Elizabeth the moment he said the words.

“Then it is settled.” Elizabeth said standing up from her spot. “After this is all over, we’ll go on a trip to see the world.” While it might be a while before they would actually be able to, the idea itself had seemed like the best idea. It gave them the hope of a future together. It gave them a chance to say they would make it through all the bad to finally come out on the other side stronger and finally enjoying their lives.

_____

“Malakai mentioned you’ve been working on a project of your own since our last visit.” Elizabeth was currently sitting at a table with several of the visiting vampires from Niklaus’s line. Many of them Elizabeth had recently met and others she had known for some time. The vampire that was speaking, Trent, Elizabeth had met several decades ago.

Elizabeth gave him a smirk as she brought the glass of wine she had in her hand up to her lips taking a drink. “If I went and told you all my evil plans you’d try to one up me. I cant have that, can I?”

“Ah so you do have something going on.” Trent smiled at her. He leaned forward in his seat eager to hear whatever details she would willingly give him. “I do hope its to break that connection of yours to your sire so we may end a line.”

Elizabeth kept a straight face even though she hated the thought of someone wanting Elijah dead. There was something inside of her that was telling her to rip his heart from his chest simply because of the threat he could be to her mate. “Maybe I am. But you see, there are two things that need to be done in order for that to happen. One I need my humanity on to try and remove the bond that is between myself and him. At this moment I feel no need to be swarmed by those pesky human emotions. Second, in order to break the sireline just as Aya had, I’d need another heart. Unfortunately the only heart I need seems to have fallen off the face of the earth.”

“You mean Hayley Marshall.” Trent said with a nod. “The last we’ve heard of her she had been living out in the woods somewhere. We were obviously close at one point seeing as she killed my informant.”

“Your informant?” Elizabeth asked with a raised brow. “You have people out looking for her as well?”

“Of course I do. It’d be nice to come to you one day with her heart as an offering.”

“That does seem like the best offering one could give.” Elizabeth said with a smirk. “It would be nice to not have my life tied to another.” Elizabeth hated acting the way she was. Every part of her was saying that she shouldn’t be saying these things. It hurt her to say them. But in order to keep up appearances as she had, she needed to do this. “I have witches keeping tabs on her daughter’s magic.” She lied easily. “I find that it is so much easier to keep up with the outburst of magic than to find a hybrid who doesn’t want to be found.”

“You believe her daughter will end up giving their whereabouts.” Trent said as he looked at the other vampires that sat with them. “Whenever we tried something to that extent, we just end up pinging in a small town in Virginia.”

“That is because there is now some training grounds for witches.” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “The Mikaelson child, however, comes from a strong line of witches.” Elizabeth said as she placed the glass back on the table before them. “Her magic will continue to grow unstable without any kind proper training. Hayley doesn’t have that kind of knowledge and I highly doubt she would trust anyone else with her daughter at this point in time.” As Elizabeth spoke, her hand went to the charm that hung from her neck. There was a comfort of holding it in her hand. “Eventually the child will give off a source of energy unlike any other that she wont be able to hide from. When that happens, we’ll know.”

“We could always use Klaus as bait.” Trent said with a shrug. “Dangle him for everyone to see and Hayley will come to save her child’s father.”

“I’ve done that before.” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head. “It leads to his lunatic exes entering my city and I will not have that. I’d rather deal with a child’s magic than deal with the horde of women Klaus has slept with. They have no use to me but a moment’s worth of entertainment.”

“What about using his blood to track his siblings?” A vampire that had been sitting next to Trent asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier to use a locator spell with his blood to find them.”

“Kelly, right?” Elizabeth said looking over at the woman. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that?”

“We’ve never seen you do it in front of us.” Kelly said with a shrug.

Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose for a moment before a smirk slowly grew on her lips. She looked over towards the side of the room and nodded to the Vampire that had been standing by the entrance to the room. Trent and Kelly watched as the vampire left the room before looking back at Elizabeth. “You wan’t proof, he’s getting just that for you.”

A moment later, Jess walked in along side the vampire. In Jess’s hand were a few key ingredients to do a spell. Coming over to the table, she set things up and placed a bowl and a knife in front of Elizabeth. Elizabeth stood from her seat and picked up the knife.

“Using Klaus’s blood does nothing to find what you are looking for.” She picked up a vial in the other hand to show them. She pulled open the top and poured it into the bowl. She nodded to Jess who began chanting a common locator spell. The vampires gathered around and watched as Jess began pouring the blood on the map before them. And just as Elizabeth assured them, the blood just puddled. It gave no indication as to where the other Mikaelson siblings would be.

“Mine on the other hand,” Elizabeth used the knife and cut into her palm, letting the blood drop on the other end of the map. Jess began chanting the spell again and the others watched as it began moving. It moved along several states before it began to spread around, as if it reached a barrier. “Each time that spell is done, that barrier is up in a different location preventing anything closer being found. She’s got one hell of a witch helping her. As I’ve said before,” Elizabeth plopped down in her seat. “The child’s magic is the easiest way to keep tabs on Hayley. She had an outburst this time last year.”

“I assume that was why you weren’t here.” Trent said as he sat back in his seat, satisfied with what he had seen.

“Believe it or not, I had her with in reach. Once Hope had controlled herself, my trace was gone and the location I had her pinpointed at was empty, with no trace of either.” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “The next time, that kid looses control, any witch will be able to feel that energy with how bottled up she is.”

Malakai walked up to Elizabeth and whispered in her ear. “We need to talk privately.” Elizabeth only nodded and watched as Malakai left the room.

“It appears that little project of mine has made some progress.” Elizabeth said as she stood from her seat. Even though she had no idea what it was that Malakai wanted to speak to her about it was a better excuse than anything. “Please do enjoy yourselves while I am gone.” Elizabeth walked away from them and pulled out her phone as she followed where Malakai had gone. She quickly wrote a text message to Hayley before tucking her phone back into her pocket.

“What is it?” She asked Malakai once they were in front of the room Elizabeth had designated as a safe spot with the help of Jess’s magic.

“We have a problem.” Malakai said as he opened the door and walked in. Elizabeth followed him in and her eyes widened once she saw who was standing in the room.

Forgotten Alliance Tag: @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @winchestert101

As a reminder, FA has a completely separate taglist. If you would like to be added to, or taken off, please let me know!

#The Originals #The vampire Diaries #Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson x OC #Original Characters #Klaus Mikaelson #Hayley Mikaelson #Rebekah Mikaelson #Hope Mikaelson #Freya Mikaelson #Forgotten Alliance #The Originals AU season 3-4 #TO #TVD #Series

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kylosbrickhousebody · 3 years

Text

Ch 23 of Club Starkiller is live (day late)

I’m a day late on this, but Chapter 23 of Club Starkiller is live.

She’s interrupted by a gentle tug.

“Let’s dispatch with all those pesky thoughts.” Master Ben looks down the length of her body, between her legs and back. “Rub your clit for me.”

She gazes up at him from where she’s held still by his thigh, gazes up at the hair which flanks his face, at the glint in his eyes, at the way he blocks out the harshest ceiling lights from beaming into hers.

Of all the commands he’s given her, this may well be the easiest to follow.

She obeys, not daring to look away, and reaches an arm down between her thighs. She slips three fingers just between her outer folds and starts to rub her clit in small circles.

Her mouth parts to let out a series of quiet, shaky breaths. Master Ben holds her head still, hand gripping closer to her scalp, seemingly refusing to look away from her.

He must know something she doesn’t because it does something to her. Suddenly everything is easier, more natural. The instinctual resistance she feels—the urge to deny their connection, to run away from it all—flows away and fades quickly. Animal brain takes over, spurred on by the heat of his eye contact.

He’s big, and his shoulders are so broad, and—

And of course she should call him Sir—

Do everything she can to earn his approval—

“Look how wet you are.”

He speaks, voice low, just for her, but it doesn’t break the spell. The deep timbre of his voice compels her to look down between her legs.

She is wet; the lubrication on her inner thighs might have embarrassed her some other time, but not now. Now it simply feels like a fact of life, a completely natural byproduct of suddenly feeling so aroused.

“Tell Master Cullen how eager you are for his cock.”

She looks between him and the other Dom, lips still parted in her breathless state.

Yes, yes, what a good idea—

She meets the eyes of the other man, the one stationed between her legs. “Please,” she hears herself saying, all self-consciousness wiped away. “Please, I want your cock. I’ve wanted it since,” she hiccups, canting her hips a little into her hand, “since I came here. You were—were good to me—and—” she takes in a few more shuddering breaths, rubbing faster at her clit. “I’m sorry—”

Cullen’s cock jumps twice as she begs for him. He casts a glance overhead, at the other Dom, and bends to catch each of her feet in his hands. He pushes up, up, bends her knees and pushes her legs down and on either side of her chest, far further and more open than she’s ever been before.

Then Ben’s hands replace his, grasping her from the reverse direction under her knees. He presses down a little further, testing her resistance, her flexibility.

She can’t help but mewl.

“Good little submissive,” that rich voice speaks again, forcing the slight curl of a smile onto her lips. “You’re going to service us.”

Her pussy clenches. Hard.

She feels herself nodding along thoughtlessly to his directive.

Cullen’s slides his length between her slicked folds and this time, instead of the zing of panic, she sees the collisions of stars.

Ben taps at the underside of her leg, just hard enough to get her attention back on him again.

“Say ‘Master Cullen, please enjoy using my wet, hot cunt.’”

Her mouth falls open a little more from the mere shock of it—from him saying something so vulgar, sure, but especially because it somehow sounds like a great idea.

“I—”

“Tell him.”

She looks down her body, looks up at Cullen, at the expectant expression on his face. He wants to hear it.

“Master Cullen—” she nearly moans it, takes several short shuddering breaths to try to calm herself. Still, she rubs at her clit faster, her only savior from feeling sweeping embarrassment. “Please enjoy using my hot, wet cunt.”

Part of her wants to shake her head the moment the words leave her lips—no doubt the most whorish thing she’s ever said. It should feel ridiculous, and its crazier still that it doesn’t. But the other part savors how Cullen smirks, how pleased he looks, how his face flushes with hunger and promise and desire.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, voice lower than usual, slightly strained. He reaches between her legs, grasps at his cock, and presses the head of it against her entrance. “I will.”

He winks at her just before he snaps his hips and—

And—

She hears herself crying out. She feels her body shudder, her hand fall by the side of her hip.

Cullen freezes.

The men exchange concerned glances.

“Been a long time?” Cullen grits out, half-between his teeth, obviously fighting against the urge to keep moving within her.

She clenches down on him once, feels her walls slowly adapting to the feeling that used to be so familiar.

She looks away from them both.

It hurts to say.

“Yeah.”

It’s a soft, quiet admission. It’s embarrassing, really, to show up to a sex club having not had any in so long. And now they know: they know that she’s not nearly as sexually active and fearless as she tries to present.

Cullen pulls back, just slightly, then rocks back in again. He repeats this motion—in and out, in and out—slowly rocking his hips each time, working her open.

“Don’t worry, love.” She watches him through partly teary eyes as he reaches out, trades places with Ben so that it’s his hands holding her down again as he moves inside of her. “Don’t worry. I’ll fuck you open again.”

She swallows and nods, even as one of Ben’s hands guides hers back to her clit.

“Continue,” the deeper voice murmurs from overhead.

She looks up at the Dom.

He smiles, just slightly, warm and gentle. It’s a moment of tender reprieve in the middle of an otherwise horny frenzy.

Cullen slows as she starts rubbing her clit again. The effect is immediate; she feels another roll of lubrication coat him, another experimental clench around his length. It barely takes a few seconds before it starts to feel good.

Both Doms seem to wait until the relief is plastered obviously on her face to continue openly topping her.

Cullen gives a series of harder shoves—it makes her eyes roll back for the briefest of moments—and grunts his approval.

“Good girl.” A thrust, and “—fuck—good girl. That’s more like it.”

The feel of a man inside her had started to fade. Now it comes hurtling back, shocking older neural pathways to life again. Her head starts to lull to the side from the rush of it and—

And that’s when she notices it: the obvious tent of an erection in the pants of the Dominant behind her.

She stares, a little open-mouthed, stopping to bask in the relief of it.

It feels like victory.

“Looking at something?”

She jumps a little, meets the eyes of the man above her. He skirts the fingers of one hand over the side of her face, featherlight, coming to rest over her throat.

“You’re finally hard.”

“’Finally’?”

“I—” shit, she thinks, that sounded offensive. “You haven’t been hard with me before.”

Confusion registers on Master Ben’s face. An amused smirk quirks his lips. “That is absolutely untrue.”

She opens her mouth. Then she closes it. “But—”

A chuckle catches in his throat. “I flip my cock up into my waistband when I need to. And I have excellent control over myself. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t noticed.”

Cullen thrusts rhythmically now, pushing her back into Ben each time. Her eyes move lower—he doesn’t make any snappy remark—until she’s nearly face to face with the tented fabric again. The urge to reach out, to touch him, grows and grows.

She needs to ground herself—

Needs to feel him—

He palms himself through his slacks. She can’t look away.

He continues, making her increasingly unsure whether he’s teasing himself or her.

The fingers of his other hand slink back into her hair, fisting once so she can feel it. Then he twirls a finger or two, wrapping strands around them, leaving ghosts of ringlets behind.

She isn’t sure whether its spurred on by the throbbing in her clit or if it’s just a random flash of courage and insanity, but the words tumble out regardless.

“I thought you said I was servicing ‘us.’” She says it a little pouty—not entirely intentional, but not at all to bad effect. Damn. “Who’s ‘us’?”

It skirts the line between challenge and question just closely enough that she isn’t sure how exactly it’ll work out.

He must know that, too, for his eyes flash with a fiery heat—whether lust or anger, though, she can’t immediately tell.

She realizes she’s about to find out pretty quickly when he drags her shoulders and the rest of her body diagonally across the bed and over to one side and, in doing so, creates a space next to her.

He maneuvers to kneel there and she finds it hard to resist admiring him, his body, the confidence with which he towers over her and undoes the buckle of his belt.

He pulls it through its loops, slowly, holding her gaze. Then he lays the belt, warm with his body heat, across her stomach.

“There are other uses for my belt. Remember that.”

She clenches around Cullen, who grunts and gives a harder shove.

Master Ben undoes the button on his slacks, drags down the zipper. He pushes them down his body to rest on upper, well-muscled thighs.

Then he reaches into the opening of black boxers, still holding her gaze, and pulls out his half-hard cock.

She hears herself choke.

He’s big, of course—that part comes as no surprise. But his cock is… beautiful? It rests partially in the sheath of foreskin retracted only halfway over the ridged head. His entire length is thick, especially his tip, already slick with his pre-cum. He’s long enough to hit every deep spot without being too long to ever take fully. His veins are visible along his length, bulging just enough to demonstrate his desire without looking outright frightening.

She nearly rolls her eyes. Another great cosmic injustice. “Of course you have a cock like that.”

Ben raises a brow, left hand slinking back into her hair to fist in it.

“God’s hand really slipped when he made you, huh.”

It comes out breathy, less confident than she meant it to sound—more wanton.

“Excuse me?”

“Shit,” Cullen spits between breaths which grow more ragged as he thrusts, “we fling her too far into subspace?”

Ben surveys her face. “I’m not sure.” He tugs her hair again, a little rougher this time. “Excuse me?”

“He just really gave you everything,” she pants, lungs not fully expanding with each breath. “He forgot to dock you points elsewhere to make up for it all.” She frowns, more to herself than anyone else. “Didn’t leave enough for the rest of us.”

Annoying. It’s so annoying, honestly, how he manages to look like that and have that cock at the same time.

He’s probably smart and successful, too.

The fucking bastard.

Ben smirks now; Cullen groans audibly between her legs. “God. Shut up and suck his cock already.”

He thrusts harder, a little shorter, possible punishment for giving the other Dom her attention.

“And you,” he nods at Ben, “masturbatory bastard. Get on with it.” He shakes his head, flicker of amusement mixed with some genuine irritation. “You two are equally obnoxious. You really are made for each other.”

Ben huffs out a breath of laughter, rubs the pads of his fingers along her scalp.

He twists the length of her hair around his wrist again, collecting the rest in his fist.

“Come here,” he orders, pulling her by her hair so her face rests closer to him, tilts towards his body. “You know what you’re going to do for me?”

She blinks. “Suck your cock?”

He chuckles. “Do you really think you deserve a mouthful of my cock?”

She looks between him and his length, which twitches once at her gaze. He palms himself, growing more erect.

“I…” she looks away. She’s not really sure how to answer. A small pang of regret twinges in her chest. Maybe she should’ve behaved better after all. “Maybe?”

He retracts his foreskin, uses it to massage up and down over the head.

“I’m not putting my cock in your mouth while he’s jostling you around like that.”

Cullen makes a face. She nearly smiles at it.

“No,” Ben continues, pulling her attention back to him. “We’re going to put that sharp little tongue to good use.” He strokes himself just slightly faster, hardening his cock to its full length. “I seem to recall some mention of an oral fixation. What a shame no one has explored that further with you.”

She just stares, mouth filling with spit, too hypnotized to do much else.

“Well,” he continues. “We start today. Stick your tongue out.”

She does, quietly assuring herself its because she has no other option, and definitely not because she wants to taste his cock—

“There you go,” he murmurs, rubbing into her scalp again. The skin there tingles. “That’s a good submissive. You can start by lapping up my pre-cum.”

She nods automatically; he tugs on her hair. “What do you say?”

“Yes—yes, Sir.” Her brain feels like her oxygen saturation must’ve fallen—like she needs to take much deeper breaths to think clearly—

“And?”

“Thank you, Sir.” She redoubles her efforts to rub at her clit. She clenches down on Cullen, who grips her thighs tighter in his hands.

Ben smirks approvingly, victorious. “That’s right.” He leans down, a little bit over her body. He fists his cock, guides the heavy tip to rest on her tongue.

She hears herself moan—involuntarily, obscene—and darts her tongue over his slit, tasting the beginnings of his seed.

He’s clean, skin warm and slightly salty against her tongue.

He suppresses his own moan somewhere in his chest. “Good girl. Lick it all up.”

She does: she’s happy to.

“How do I taste?”

“Good. Good. You taste good. Sir.”

Master Ben rewards her by smiling down at her. “Good.” He lifts the tip off her tongue, strokes the full length of himself a few times before moving to primarily massage the head and its ridge. “Lay your tongue flat.”

She does, and he leans forward again, fist clenching tighter in her hair, restricting her from movement. He strokes the underside of his cockhead with her tongue, thrusting just inches back and forth.

He grunts; she thinks she sees his eyes close for a moment.

“Now form more of a tip.”

She does; he rubs his cock against it in much the same way, sliding the soft, focused tip of her tongue along the sensitive connective tissue just beneath the head.

“Mhm. Fuck. I can’t tell which I like more.” He groans again—the whole thing is obscene, and she knows that, but it feels so sexy in the moment—and sets a rhythm of short, quick strokes. “I’ll have you alternate for me.”

She does, of course, this time without objection. The thought to disobey doesn’t even cross her mind—only the sensations she’s feeling and the pleasure she’s giving.

It doesn’t take long for more pre-cum to bead at the end of his cock.

“Clean that,” he commands.

She wipes her tongue over the head, earning another groan and the twitch of his cock.

“Good girl.” He uses the fist in her hair to bring her closer so he can rub his length over her face. “Learn your place,” he croons, guiding his member back to thrust over her tongue. “This is what your mouth is good for. Not talking back: serving my cock.”

She feels herself start nodding in agreement even as some distant part of her personality screams and yells in fierce objection. He huffs; she finds herself growing hot with the realization that he’s short of breath, too.

“Isn’t that right?”

She nods again; he mirrors her.

“Yes.” His cock slides off the side of her tongue as she answers, pulling a thick line of spit with it, connecting the two. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very good.” He caresses the side of her face with his right hand before positioning his cock again. “Now be quiet and serve me.”

So, she does.

Rhea feels the last tendrils of doubt fade into the background. She grows more comfortable—excited, even—with being used by him.

“You know why the cock is shaped like this?” he asks after a while. There’s a sliver of danger in his voice.

She manages to shake her head just slightly.

“The head evolved into this shape because it’s a plunger: men with thicker, ridged heads found more reproductive success. They were able to plunge out the semen of other men and replace it with their own.”

There’s something about the juxtaposition of the science lesson, the casual way in which he gives it, and the wet slide of his cock above her that makes her shudder and her cunt clench.

She can’t help but look between him and Cullen.

Is he—?

“Are you able to control the muscles in your pussy?”

She slobbers a little on his cock. “Mostly—”

“Good. Milk his cock then. Try to get him to finish up. I’m growing tired of sharing.”

He is.

Cullen says something, but the exact words get lost to the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She tenses around him; green eyes full of lust meet hers.

“Go on then,” the Dom goads playfully, “you were told to make me come.”

Rhea nods quickly, clenches her pelvic floor until she gets a reaction. Soon she learns the rhythm he likes, how she can tense and squeeze around him through thrusts that grow quicker and quicker.

She eases up on her clit with regret; it’s better than coming in front of two Doms without permission. She’s certain that wouldn’t fly.

She finds she has to sacrifice focus on one man for the other. So far, Cullen’s gotten the short end of the stick. She feels bad about it—truly, it’s not fair—so she tries to roll her hips, to reward him with some pleasant sensations for sticking around.

Master Ben slaps her cheek with cock, wet from her spit. “Focus. You’re getting sloppy.”

He takes her tongue between his thumb and pointer finger and pulls it, gently enough, out of her mouth as far as it can comfortably go.

“You have a job to do for both of us.”

She can only nod and try to please them both, as taxing as that is on her remaining mental bandwidth.

Cullen speeds up again, his thrusts growing shorter, seemingly spurred on by eye contact—though looking at him with another man’s cock on her tongue does cause her cheeks to glow a little red.

“Fuck—look how far you’ve come—”

His hips pound in quick strokes.

She tries to squeeze him in waves of contractions like her pussy does when she comes.

It sends him over the edge, apparently; his hips stutter, giving uneven thrusts while he lets out a loud grunt, then hisses through his teeth.

“Shit—mphfg—that’s nice.”

He lingers in her only a few moments, thumbs grazing the skin under her knees. Then he helps her slowly extend her legs again—gods, it feels good to stretch after being folded by force like a pretzel—and grips at the base of the condom to pull out.

Rhea fails to fully suppress the whimper that escapes her at the newfound lack of fullness.

Cullen smirks himself and spreads her folds open with his thumbs. He makes a clicking noise of assessment in the back of his throat. “There,” he murmurs appreciatively. “All fucked open again.”

She clamps down but finds nothing to grip. Another involuntary whine slips out.

“Hush now. Take care of Master Ben.”

The other man takes it as a cue to speak. “Toss me a hand towel, will you?”

“Sure.”

Something white, fluffy, and square flies overhead a moment later; the Dom catches it in his free right hand.

Cullen chucks the condom in a nearby bio-bin, then leans against one of the counters to watch the remaining scene.

Ben, for his part, releases the grip on her hair, laying it out behind her. She feels an odd pang of disappointment at the loss of tension, the loss of touch—that is, until he swings a leg over and straddles her upper chest.

He lets his cock jut out over her chin. It bobs once when her eyes dart between his and his length.

She watches curiously as he lays the towel out over her hair, tucking her hair under and behind her ears. It stops just centimeters in front of her hairline, covering a thin strip of forehead.

“You know what I’m doing, Rhea?” He asks. His voice has that dangerous, silky quality to it again. She could listen to it forever, she thinks. He could use it to compel her to do anything. “I’m making preparations to come on your face.”

Her brain must flash blank for several seconds; her mouth definitely parts in a little ‘o’ of shock.

She’s never been spoken to that way—so matter of fact, so controlled, so vulgar—and it does something to her.

A lot, actually.

“Shit.”

“Mhm. There’s that mouth again. Perhaps we’ll have to keep it occupied.”

She ignores the zing at her clit, the uncomfortable wetness pooling between her legs and coating her upper thighs.

There’s little she can do about it, anyway: her arms are pinned under his thighs. She tries to rub her own together to gain friction, but the slick between her legs makes it hard to fully get the stimulation she needs.

It’s so frustrating—but also, somehow, manages to feel exactly right.

She finds herself nodding in ascent.

He hums again, lifts himself slightly off her to angle his cock towards her mouth.

“Go ahead, then. Suck me until I decide to come.”

He places the tip of his cock in her mouth for her—and gods, somehow it feels so good.

She laves her tongue over him, over the underside, hollows out her cheeks.

His breathless grunts and the rhythm of his hips feel like reward enough.

She’s never exactly had her mouth fucked slowly… but that’s what he does. She finds his hand back in her hair, watches him flex his hips only a few inches, pushing in and out. Forcing her somehow to hold his gaze.

“That’s right,” he murmurs softly.

She wants to—to curl her forearms up, to rub at his thighs. A fuzzy sensation gradually takes over her brain, no doubt numbing her judgement. She does—curl them, reach out with her palms resting on the back of either of his thighs.

“Did I say you could touch me?”

Rhea hesitates, tries to shake her head. She removes her hands quickly.

“You. Ask. Me,” he breathes, thrusting thrice into her mouth to emphasize his point.

Bit hard with a mouth full of cock, but she understands the general sentiment—

“Now put your hands back on me.”

Oh.

She does, of course—feels so good to rub at him, to gently spur him on, encourage him. Maybe that’s why he allows it.

“Go on. Rub your clit for me.”

He breathes his permission, and its all she needs. She reaches between her thighs and rubs circles into her clit again, unable to suppress the moan of need that escapes her throat and vibrates through his cockhead.

“Do you think you can come from sucking my cock?”

He asks it but doesn’t pull out. She’s left to attempt to nod between slow, lurid thrusts.

“Good. Do it.”

She tries—really tries. She scrunches up her eyes like she does naturally when she feels so close—then wrenches them back open, still under the unshakeable spell his own gaze seems to hold over her. She tries to keep steady, tries not to toss her head from side to side like she does for some reason whenever she gets close.

She does, however, curl the shit out of her toes. Her legs start to shake. They hang entirely off the end of the bed along with an inch or two of her ass.

Her eyes start to water with the pressing need of it, with the frustration of not quite being able to get there. Her hips try and fail to lift.

“Do it. Come.”

It’s an order and, worse, she finds that the words are exactly what she needs to get there.

Her hips do lift off—he holds her upper half down with both hands, still thrusting slowly, obnoxiously controlled—and she feels herself repeatedly clench on nothing, feels the involuntary moans of relief escaping her throat and vibrating through him.

He pulls his cock from the suction of her mouth with a soft pop.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. She watches just long enough to see the blur of his hand fisting his cock. “Close your eyes. I’m close. Don’t open your mouth unless you want a taste of cum.”

She obeys, circling her clit gently through aftershocks, needing to toe the line between pleasure and painful overstimulation.

He grunts somewhere above her, free hand moving under her chin so his thumb rests on it, the rest of his fingers beneath it.

He starts to come in hot strips, each accompanied by a frenzied breath.

She feels only a warm staticky pleasure in her brain; she leans into the feeling of finally having outward proof that he wants her.

Maybe that’s why, emboldened by his excited breaths and the drunken floating feeling in her head, she licks her lips once and opens her mouth.

“Fuck—” his voice cracks and sputters overhead; he grunts out a string of incomplete curse words and choice phrases.

She’s not surprised, then, when she feels the next several jets of cum land on her tongue.

A dizzy little giggle grows in her chest, puts a small smile on her lips. She’s never much minded the texture of cum—only really when the man is an asshole about it—and his tastes pretty neutral as far as cum goes. He probably eats super clean or something pretentious like that.

“Shit,” he half-groans through the last bursts of his orgasm, the remaining spurts of cum less precise, more liquid, landing mostly close to his cock and rolling down her chin.

He sits back on her chest again when done, obviously taking care not to rest the full extent of his weight on her. She feels little tremors shake his thighs; it makes her smile against the better wishes now buried deep, deep within her brain.

Rhea feels him swipe the tip of his cock over her tongue, depositing the last of his semen there.

“You may spit if you prefer.”

She nearly chuckles herself. That’s nice, she thinks vaguely, but her choice feels only natural in the moment.

She closes her mouth, lets his cum pool near the back of her throat, and swallows.

She sticks her tongue out when done.

He makes that same groan of pleasure—it almost sounds like he’s in mild pain—and, somewhere above her, he rubs at his face.

He takes a deep breath, lets it expand his chest.

“Good girl.” A pause. “And my taste?”

Her cheeks color—just a little—but answering no longer feels so embarrassing. “Fine. Good.” She clears her throat, eyes still closed. There’s a strip of cum just above and below and she isn’t trying to get it in her eyelashes. “You must eat well.”

That earns a chuckle; she can hear the fondness, the approval in his voice. “I do try to not eat like an asshole before play days.”

They lapse into silence for a few moments. She finds that she’s perturbed the most by how comfortable that silence is for her.

“How do you feel?”

She parts her lips to answer, then closes them again. She feels so many things. She isn’t sure how to answer.

“I…”

“Do you find this more humiliating, or more rewarding?”

Her cheeks heat again. There’s only one honest answer, even if it’s not nearly the one she wants to give.

“More… rewarding.”

He makes a noise of approval in his throat, strokes the side of her jaw with his thumb.

“Good. Then I want you to stay like that while I clean up.”

So she stays like that, on her back, face half covered in his come, and grows progressively more horrified as she realizes that she likes it. Loves the feeling of possession.

Rhea hears cabinets open and close after he gets up, some rustling of plastic. She hears the distinctive sound of fabric, of a zipper being pulled up.

His cum has turned more liquid by the time he’s finished. She stays as still as she can in the hopes that it won’t roll down around her ears and get into the wisps of her hairline.

A big hand places itself on her shoulder.

“Warm towel,” she hears him say. God, that voice—she wants to roll over, mess be damned, and snuggle into the crook of his neck already.

Even if she knows, intellectually, that he’s a bastard—that she should hate this… she doesn’t.

He cleans the mess off her face with more tenderness than she would expect, swiping gently to avoid reddening her skin, folding the towel over when he needs clean spots.

She leans into the sensation of her own chest rising and falling, of the momentary lapse in self-consciousness. She wishes she could feel so peaceful all the time.

He tosses the towel away when he finishes, loops his arms under hers to pull her up slowly. Blood redistributes through her body, but she manages to avoid a headache.

Rhea hardly knows what to expect when she opens her eyes. A self-righteous smirk, perhaps? The triumph of victory written over his features? She’ll probably reverse course, want to hop off the table and run. Feeling this good never lasts long; living for so many years within the First Order has caused her to foster an inherent distrust of letting her guard down, of relaxing.

When she opens, though, she doesn’t find any of those things—just a man, brown eyes full of something she can’t quite identify, standing before her.

He leans in before she can really react, caging her in with arms on either side of her. A thick forearm snakes up the small of her back and pulls her into him.

He takes her mouth, confident in his approach yet somehow tender, convincing her wordlessly to open her mouth, to share with him. His tongue tastes hers, invading another small part of her body, breaking another tiny piece of her resolve.

She can smell a hint of bourbon on his breath, the comforting, rich smell of myrrh from cologne she only ever smells when she’s pressed close to him.

It all feels so familiar.

She allows him to claim her, if just for a moment.

#kylo ren #ben solo #star wars #fanfic #ao3

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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Thank you for your posts about canon / text / subtext definitions. I do wonder about what makes it 'obvious' to some people that Sam and Eileen have slept together. What do they think about Cas knowing that Dean kept the Colt under his pillow? Or that he's an angry sleeper? That look and gesture Dean gave Cas when he went to have a shower after Michael's first exit? The time he told Sam that Cas had left much earlier in the morning, when he'd clearly just got up himself? I'm confused

I have a simple answer: het goggles.

And yes, LGBT people can have het goggles.

I’m gonna tell you a brief story I’ve posted about before – and someone in the meta community even took an ~offended~ tone about it afterward when they heard about it.

A long time ago, the Dean played in my group (by an LGBT man) and I got tired of backflipping around the gay. In our S13-equivalent plotline (which was divergent, it basically split separate track after Tombstone), our respective climb to the finale, we had an opportunity. We took it. Tada, DeanCas canon! It was obvious, right? We run a genre server, we don’t do private sexy times shit, and one of the most important elements to us was being nonperformative and true to the characters. We sent out our big gay flare signals in public over, of all things, a sacred marriage ceremony and then cut-to next-day, where they were sitting in the kitchen talking. We kept using dialogue we intended to make as obvious as fucking possible and yet we noticed it seemed to be whistling by people.

(allow me to scream into the void as an aside about it being a 7 episode crash course through an inverted alchemical set about carrying marks that Cas ended up bound into with Dean. FREE ME.)

I went to DM and asked him, should we like, tell everyone? But the decision was to NOT, because even the best RPers can let meta things influence them. We wanted character reactions to remain authentic.

For the entire next mytharc (S14-adjacent?) we just kept writing on. And on. And on. And maintained their relationship as public, but as *they* are, as people. An established relationship. We didn’t hide it. And it kept getting missed. We kept dialing up HOW front and center shit was.

I want you to keep in mind, this is a server so full of shippers and LGBT people and LGBT shippers that we have a “token straight.”

And they kept missing it. Because of how this fandom has trained them to dismiss content.

If you want an idea of how bold it was, we were DMing each other like HAHA THEY CANT MISS THIS ONE “BET”, like a challenge, or just deadass “They’re going to miss that canon Destiel mention right there.” slamming out post after post with textual elements over the old missed news. There was even a time Cas joked about reconciliatory seduction, but not being the best at it, so maybe bacon would be better at the moment, or something along those lines. I sat, smugly, waiting for everyone to realize OMG WHAT, I even went to the OOC “Waiting for you guys to kill me”

What did I get back? “LOL CAS SAID SEDUCTION AND I LAUGHED” “LOL THAT’S AWESOME”

… “Oh my god give me a minute.” I literally had to walk away from my computer, refill my vape, rub my face down for a minute and DM my Dean, going “WHAT THE FUCK”

Our DeanCas wasn’t lowkey. Hell, it wasn’t even subtext. Just their physical elements were private quarter things and their “I love yous” weren’t really strangled down to that three words, but how they say, or enact it, each in their own ways, every day.

We literally said, on repeat “oh my god this is what Bobo and Yockey’s DMs look like isn’t it” “Without a doubt tbh”

And I mean shit, there was literally a point that Michael Dean basically killed Cas (without actually kiilling him, it was the jumpscare) in Dean’s bedroom on Dean’s bed after being lured in to talk about some shit by actual-Dean who realized Cas was going off on a sacrificial crash course and he cuffed him down there. So that? Sure, that wasn’t sexy time bedcuffing. But when Michael got his hands on the archangel blade and it killed the angel (grace) not the host (soul), and Cas’ wing prints of his near death were all over the bedroom and everything was broken – when Dean decided to move out to the DeanCave, he took human Cas with him.

Awww isn’t that sweet!! He’s like!! Taking care of Cas during his Empty trauma! was the call. Me and Dean’s player sat there staring like

So we had them literally, for a fun crack day, GO SHOPPING FOR A NEW BED. TOGETHER. ONE BED. TESTING IT OUT AND TALKING IMPORTANT SHIT WHILE LAID OUT ON TOP OF IT AND EVERYTHING. YOU KNOW, LIKE BROS DO, SHARING BEDS AND TALKING PERSONAL ISSUES.

Everybody thought it was *hilarious*

And it wasn’t even just shit like this, we had entire mytharcs playing into it. We had structural callback elements to famous related scenes. We had villains and contagonists addressing them as the mytharc lovers. Everywhere you turned, in any way you can imagine, we were trying to paint this picture without just having them randomly start cuddling in front of everybody. Lines like “DAMNIT CAS, BEFORE WE STARTED THIS, I MADE YOU PROMISE TO NOT MAKE ME YOUR WHOLE WORLD, OR UNIVERSE OR WHATEVER” in raging explosions over crash course choices or whatever else. I can not say ENOUGh how much open textual writing we sprayed out, only for it to be dismissed, brushed over, or even laugh tracked off entirely.

By. LGBT people. And shippers.

And people are *so quick* to shut down content that the few things that *seemed* to run opposite were entirely taken to heart. Eg, at one point, only a few weeks after 1. DeanCas went canon 2. Dean became Dinkle and vanished to the wind, someone had their character start talking to Jack about types of love and that “Dean and Cas need to get their heads out of their ass”, etc, and then Jack sat confused and Jack got talked to about Dean and Cas being dumbasses that need their shit together.

So here comes Cas, wandering into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and he turns around to Jack GLARING at him and he’s basically like, what, and Jack explodes, as a child do, like “WHY DO YOU HAVE THE SEX WITH WOMEN WHEN YOUR HEAD SHOULD BE IN DEAN’S ASS” and Cas just fuckin DROPS his coffee cup and looks to the other person and is like “What did you tell him?!” but they took the resulting “WTF? WHAT ARE YOU TELLING MY SON?” as immediate complete total shut down (atop them clearly not realizing it already happened), rather than like, I just crawled my ass out of an alternate universe I was thrown into right after getting married and losing him and what the hell are you telling my 1 year old son about his dads when one might not come back and why the fuck does he think i’m sleeping with women

Eventually, I snapped. We ended up with a finale of facing Chuck (albeit totally different terms/conditions/location/etc) and yes, even a truth spell, so I went out of my way – and Sam’s player, who is my wife, and was the one person to really figure this out herself because she knows my writing for one and for two I’m the one that personally shattered her het goggles SO SHE KNOWS – went out of their way, and we lined it up exactly right for all the things to come together to hear Sam explode on Dean about just being honest about being in love with an angel and I just – slightly tweaking the usual character voice I’d use to free myself of this gay purgatory, had Cas go “Yes, I know. He told me a year ago.”

The whole goddamn chat: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

Finally, fucking FINALLY, something broke through to everyone, with us literally warping and bending situations and character voices just to be like RELEASE ME

– but when one of the big name meta bloggers got told about this? They were like “Aren’t you mad? Don’t you want more visible representation???” to which I was like IDK MAN I WAS FOLLOWING THE REPRESENTATION LEAD OF THE GAY DUDE IN MY SERVER SO ASK HIM? WE WERE TRYING TO REPRESENT PEOPLE JUST WEREN’T SOAKING IT???? IDK??? WHAT DO YOU WANT

Everyone actually in the server took it really well, “heteronormativity is a hell of a drug” was one of the catch phrases for a while. People went back and sat, kinda embarrassed, reading over a goddamn season worth of canon Destiel and kicking themselves like, how did I miss this? How did I straightsplain this? What the fuck?????

So yeah. Heteronormativity is the biggest culprit and, in many cases, the second is the lack of willingness to introspect and reflect because if they’ve been ~wrong~ then… something. I don’t know what exactly goes through their head. But something.

I’ll add the video I made after 14.20 aired which made some material about Chuck available for it, to “Rat in a Cage” (rats in a maze S15 launch me into SPACE), but that sign over DeanCas? That’s the mark of Venus.

youtube

#supernatural #spn #meta #my meta #heteronormativity #destiel

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notakweenagayleesi · 4 years

Text

#QuarantineThings

I was tagged by the handsome @thename023 🤩

Instructions: Tag 10 followers or people you follow who you want to get to know better.

Name: I’m Riko, hellou :3

Gender: I’m fluid, gender nonconforming.

Star Sign: My birthday is March 16th, so I’m an emotional ass Pisces binch 💁🏼‍♀️

Height: I’m a little over 170cm. So lets saaaay: 172cm.

Sexuality: Home of Sexual.

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff, tho I did get Ravenclaw when I took the test when I was alot younger 🤔

Favorite Animal: Dogs are pretty sweet. I’ve never been a big animal person tho. Animals are cool tho I don’t think I’ll get a pet. I don’t dislike them. I’m just big on personal space and animals understandably don’t/cant undertand that.

Average hours of sleep: I’m such a mess when it comes to sleep 🙈 I have such a hard time falling asleep, it’s insane. I can toss and turn in bed for 7 hours without falling asleep. Funny thing tho: When I DO fall asleep THEN I can sleep for hooooours. And I mean HOURS. My record is 24 hours. I woke up maybe once or twice for a few seconds, checked what time it was and fell asleep again 💀.... So I can’t really tell you an ”average” amount I sleep 🤡

Current Time: 10 PM

Dogs or cats: Dogs. Like... I appreciate them both but dogs are just so happy to see you an stuff.. Plus cats usually hate me and scratch me. Just let me be pls xD

Blankets you sleep with: Hmmm. A regular one idk? In the summer I use a lighter one that has a zebra print on it. It’s rly soft 😍

Dream Job: Gosh that’s a tough one. Something where I can be atleast a little bit artistic from time to time. I also want a challenge and grow as a person. So I like it to be atleast alittle bit out of my comfort zone.

When I made this blog: Oh god. Way too long ago. Year and years.

Followers: Ehh, darling that ain’t important. Most of them are probably bots anyway. I just appreciate having mutuals who I can see in my notes and they can see me in theirs. Tho I wish I had the courage to talk to more of them!

Why I made a Tumblr: Gosh I can’t quite remember! I bet I saw cool gifs here and then decided to make an account 🧐

Reason for URL: There was once this video game I liked called: Spell Force 2. One of the main characters was a female elf called Nightsong. I liked the character and the name so I started using it online ever since! And 18 (and 8) has always been my lucky number. Nightsong is usually taken so I add the 18 hahah.

And since this is a tagging game, I am tagging: @mon0chromenight @conqueringsands @cubeofwonders @danystormbornsnow @jakemuller @abronamedsuad @theogsassymcmelons @andymolin @gal-ax-y @cactuarkitty

Only do it if you feel comfortable and have the time for it :3 No pressure! ❤️ Thanks for tagging me @thename023 😽

#me #about me #tagged #quarantinethings

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lizzienaut · 4 years

Note

*breathes in deeply* Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Neville, Hedwig, Hagrid, Sirius, Filch, Cedric, McGonagall, Lupin, Mad Eye, Lily, Trelawney, Oillvander, Cho, and Petunia- *collapses and wheezes* *caramelldansen plays faintly in the background*

wOAH THAS A LOT OMGTHANK YOU FOR THE ASK ITS GONNA BE UNDER THE CUT EE

Harry Potter: Tell us about a scar on your body

okaY so i have a really tiny scar like right beside my left eyei got it in like fourth grade when my class was walking to swim lessonsim a clumsy dumbass so i trIPPED ON THE SIDEWALK AND FELL FACE FIRST INTO ITthe metal part where like,, the arms of my glasses connected to my frame DUG INTO MY TEMPLE AND CUT IT INTO SMITHEREENS i bled all over my teacher and you bet your ass i scream-sobbed 😎

Ron Weasley: Something you’re afraid of?

im afraid that at any moment everyone that im close with is gonna suddenly be like “haha pranked” and tell me theyve always hated me and then leavei haveabandonment issues whoopsiesbut for reaL my deepest fear is that people only like me out of pity and that once they get bored of me they’ll justdump mei dunno a lot of people have left me without an explanation and it just likereally hurts dude sometimes it makes me think there’s something wrong with me

that got really sad

im also really scared of the dark and loud noises!! ajkfsdf

Fred Weasley: Can you do any magic tricks? What is the best one you can do? If you can’t do any, what’s the best one you’ve seen?

MY FAVORITE SHOW WHEN I WAS YOUNGER WAS MAGIC’S BIGGEST SECRETS FINALLY REVEALEDthe masked magician looks DOPE AS HELLaltho the narrator and his obsession with women kindaweirds me out thinking back on it BUTi always liked watching him cut people in halF :O

George Weasley: What is the best prank you’ve ever played on someone?

OH OHwhen i was in fifth grade the charlie charlie challenge was big popular still and my group of friends at the time wanted to do it so i set it up and they asked a question and nothing happenedand so they asked anotherand i really subtly blew on the pencil and it moved and everyone collectively screamed and it was the funniest shit ever i am a prank master(tm) bow before me mortal

Neville Longbottom: Tell us an embarrassing story.

okay so like i gush about my friends a lot rightand i gush about iven a lot right i refuse to tag you because this still really embarrasses me and it happened like forever agoso i would talk about him a lot to my super close irl friend ~*~m~*~and ONE DAYWHILE ALL THREE OF US WERE IN A CALLTHIS FOOL DeCIDES TO SUDDENLY TELL HIM EVERY fUCKING THING IVE EVER SAID ABOUT HIM aND I LITERALLY LIKEMUTED MYSELF AND THREW MY EARBUDS ACROSS THE ROOMoh my GOD you have absolutely no idea how red and frantic i was i was gonna slaughter her AND THEN TODAY ONE OF MY OTHER FRIENDS stARTED TELLING HIM SHIT IVE SAID AND I JUSTPLEASE NOi cant even describe the feeling of pure unadulterated dread that courses through my veins every time someone’s like “oh haha by the way ___ cass said...”I DONT KNOW WHY IT EMBARRASSES ME SO MUCH BUT IT DOES HHH

oh but wait yall are here for tickles arent you so ill throw in a quick mini bonus storyone time during drama my whole class was sitting around each other in a circle and i was sitting beside one of my friends, who i was annoying the shit out of becos im a huge brat, and i dropped something and i bent to pick it up and she suddenly slammed her hand under my arm and started brutally murdering me in front of everyone and didnt stop until i like shrieked out an apology not like shriek but quiet scream beg sdjgskfg

Hedwig: If you went to Hogwarts, what kind of pet would you bring? (ex: cat, owl, rat, frog)

KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KI

Rubeus Hagrid: What is your favorite mystical creature?

mermaiDS!! mermaids are babes!! i wanna be a mermaid!! OR A SELKIE selkies are so pretty maN

Sirius Black: Have you ever been accused of doing something you didn’t do?

yeaH all the TIMEand when nobody believes im innocent its just so upsETTING AH

Argus Filch: What’s the worst job you’ve ever had?

ive actually!! never had a job before oopsBUT UHive been out on the job with my dad before delivering food and god damn people can be such assholes to fast food workers lmao

Cedric Diggory: Have you ever had a near death experience?

YEAH MANY TIMESmy favorite time was almost getting hit by a double decker bus

Minerva McGonagall: What is your favorite spell?

tiggle spell

Remus Lupin: If you transform into any one animal or creature, which one would it be?

K I T T Y

Mad Eye Moody: Who is the bravest person you know?

my mama!! shes gone through so much and shes so strong an i justi love my mommy im sorry 😔

Lily Potter: What color eyes do you have?

blue!! :D

Professor Trelawney: Have you ever dreamt something was going to happen and then it happened?

OOOi had a dream that some guy that i had a crush on in like seventh grade was gonna break up with his girlfriend and it happened a few days later and i was like

😎😎😎

Mr. Ollivander: What would your wand look like?

pretty and pink next question

Cho Chang: If you were on the Quidditch team, what position would you play?

probably chaserim not quick or attentive enough to be a seeker and being a keeper would be p harD BeCOS AGAIN IM NOT FASTmaybe i could disrupt everyone else as a beater butchaser it is :o

Aunt Petunia: What is your favorite flower?

roses!! roses are so pretty i love them so much

#long answers ahhh #THANK YOU ILY #liz peeps™

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until-theend-oftheline · 5 years

Text

Idiot Friends and Interrupted Kisses - Part 7: Well Meaning Advice

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Steve is an idiot. Sweet idiot but still. A Captain Marvel spoiler-ish comment.

Squares Filled: This entire series covers slow burn for @marvelfluffbingo

Word Count: 1100ish

A/N: This series is written for @barnesrogersvstheworld 3k challenge - I hope you enjoy it Attie.

Betaed by: @sebs-potato - thank you so much, Ida.

IFaIK Masterlist

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Bucky was up early, making his pancakes. Not that there was anything new about that, but he did feel somewhat more grumpy than usual. He felt as if the universe was against him. Not that that was anything new either, but this time it was just downright cruel. He’d sooner go back to being tortured by HYDRA than having this go on for much longer.

It was easier before. When he didn’t know that you returned his feelings. He could push it aside then. But now, knowing what he knew he couldn’t do that anymore. Not now that he was so close to his dreams being fulfilled and still it seemed as if you were slipping between his fingers. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to be happy.

“Hi Buck,” your voice sounded from the doorway, but Bucky didn’t react. He couldn’t. Not right now. Not with the tears pressing against his eyes and his head slipping into that dark space he so desperately tried to avoid.

He heard you sigh as you walked across the room, opening the fridge to get your energy drink.

“Listen I can’t stay. Nat is waiting for me in the gym, but I-,” you started before your words fizzled out. Bucky was listening and waiting. He just couldn't look at you right now. He didn’t want you to see how much he was hurting. He hated that he was such a mess. You deserved so much better than him.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was low and frail and this time and Bucky couldn’t prevent himself from looking at you. You looked like you were hurting too and he hated it. He never wanted that but he also had no idea what was causing it.

“For what?” Bucky asked, without moving. Scared that the slightest wrong move would hurt you even further.

“Running out on you like that. I should have just ignored Tony. I…” you rambled and Bucky quickly reached out giving your hand a squeeze.

“It’s okay,” he assured you but you just shook your head.

“No, it’s not. Bucky I want this,” you motioned between the two of you. “Us. And you’re hurting. I can see that. I caused that. So I’m sorry.”

Bucky smiled softly, quickly turning off the stove and moving so he stood right in front of you, taking both your hands in his.

“It’s not you darlin’,” Bucky assured you again. “It’s in my head. I….”

“What?” You looked up, giving his hands a squeeze. “I mean you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want too. But you can if you want too,” you rambled, pulling a face when you heard yourself and Bucky chuckled, pulling you in for a hug.

“I know I can. It’s just the usual thoughts that I am not good enough. That everyone… you deserve better,” Bucky admitted softly. For some reason, he could tell you these things. He still wasn’t sure how he could the words out, but they made you cling to him even harder.

“Bucky Barnes. You’re the best, most caring man I have ever met. You deserve to have whatever your heart desires and I am damn lucky if that’s me,” you spoke, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“It’s you. Only you,” Bucky answered you honestly, smiling a little when he saw your smile grow. He closed his eyes as he felt your fingers on the nape of his neck running into his hair. When he opened them again, you were so close his heart almost stopped. He leaned down as your eyes fluttered to his lips and back to his eyes. His lips were just about to meet yours when a voice broke the spell and you took a step back clearing your throat.

“Hi, Buck. Sam and I just got back. I think he needs a break.” Steve chuckled, as he reached for the fridge to grab the apple juice, pouring himself a glass. “You wanna join me in the gym later.”

Steve finally looked over at the two of you standing fairly close and looking slightly awkward over at him. “You still haven’t kissed huh?” Steve asked, making your eyes widen and Bucky glare at him.

“Okaay! Well, that’s my cue to go meet Nat.” You put your hand on Bucky’s arm, standing on your toes and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear, “to be continued.”

You threw him a wink before turning around and walking towards the door. It took Bucky a few moments to break the daze your kiss had put him in, but when he did he called out after you in a whiney voice.

“You’re not gonna leave me alone with him are you?”

“He was your friend first buddy,” you answered, smirking over your shoulder as you disappeared through the door.

“I’m standing right here,” Steve called out loud enough for you to hear it too, only to be met with your laughter as you continued down the hallway.

When Steve looked over Bucky was still glaring at him only for Steve to send him that same innocent grin he used to give him back in the 30s. Usually seconds before Bucky ended up in a fight trying to prevent the stubborn little bastard from getting himself killed.

“You got something to say. Spit it out,” Bucky grumbled, sitting down at the table across from Steve.

“You know as the world’s leading authority of waiting too long… She loves you, Buck. I know you still doubt who you are sometimes, but you are a good man Bucky,” Steve rambled making Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Jeez, Steve! I’m not waiting. I just have friends with horrible timing,” Bucky glared at Steve, making the stream of words stop for a second before his mouth opened and closed without words.

“You were about too…” Steve ran a hand behind his neck, “Shit. I’m sorry pal.”

“You should be,” Bucky grumbled, but still forced a small smile to not make Steve feel too bad. It wasn’t his fault really. Bucky and you just seemed to have the worst luck. “I should just have kissed her on that damn jet.”

“Yeah,” Steve answered, taking Bucky completely by surprise. “Maybe you shouldn’t look for the perfect moment. Maybe it being you and her is perfect enough.”

Bucky jumped off the chair, pulling out his phone causing Steve to frown, “Who are you calling?”

“Danvers. If she left one of her Skrulls behind I to need to know what she did with Steve,” Bucky answered with a completely straight face.

“You’re a jerk,” Steve grumbled, hitting Bucky’s arm with his fist before they both broke into laughter.

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sabraeal · 5 years

Text

We Seek That Which We Shall Not Find, Chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Written for Trope Madness’s betting kitty winner, @ruleofexception! It’s been....over six months, but here is this HUGE BEAST of a chapter. I know I said I thought this would be the last Laxdo chapter, BUT...there’s gonna be at least one more!

There hadn’t been much in the way of entertainment, back in the country. At least, not the way Shirayuki’s constantly bombarded with it here, videos up on billboards and scrolling across phones on the subway. The B&B had a limping internet connection, and with the only television in the common room, she’d spent more time inside a book or outside the house than struggling to find a channel the other boarders would agree to.

So when Zen asked her to join D&D, when Kiki had teased her for not even knowing what she’d said yes to --

Well, she’d done her research. Not just the kind Izana gave her, reading source books and studying lore, but watching videos, listening to podcasts, finding the D&D episodes of popular shows -- anything that would give her something to expect. Nothing could have rivaled her disappointment or her relief when she realized costumes were optional; she hadn’t known how she would cobble together historically accurate, fourth century Welsh gown when even the SCA shrugged their shoulders at the idea, but, well...it was exactly the sort of challenge she would have risen to, if she had the excuse.

Still, she’d thought she had an idea of what to expect: roleplay, quick thinking, rich story, complicated feelings, improv, maybe even some funny voices, but --

Nothing had prepared her for the amount of planning.

“So that’s it?”

Shirayuki startles; she’d been deep into splitting healing duties with Mitsuhide. Paladins are only half spell casters, only good for buffs and an occasional off-heal, so all the curse removal duties fall to Lynet. Bedwyr is more or less moral support; unless the curse itself had some sort of permanent stat drain, there’s nothing he can do.

Zen isn’t invested in this conversation, of course; magi don’t have magic that can’t be applied to themselves or their weapon. Which is why he’s craning his neck toward Izana, incredulous. “We just cast a whole bunch of Remove Curse and then hit the road?”

Shirayuki isn’t an expert on Izana’s expressions, not when the difference between them is the angle of an eyebrow or the twitch of a lip, but she feels confident in calling this one positively withering. “Is that what you think you should do?”

The temperature of the room drops two degrees. That’s a question where everyone knows the answer.

“We still don’t know who started this,” Mitsuhide tries, haltingly, thick fingers worrying at the edge of his character sheet. From the dog-eared corners on every side, this isn’t a first-time occurrence. “It’s not a good habit to leave enemies behind us.”

“Not a healthy one, at least,” Kiki adds, leaning her knee against the table.

“But we don’t have any hints either.” Zen’s flushed, frustrated. “Do you guys just want to hang around here, waiting for him to come back? If he comes back?”

“Or her.” Kiki’s brow twitches, and Shirayuki’s not sure whether to read it as amusement or annoyance. Maybe both is the better bet. “Then again, you haven’t tried to woo any rescued damsels this session, so probably not a dread sorceress. Unless there’s something Shirayuki isn’t telling us.”

Kiki turns to her with an inquisitive look, and even though she knows she’s joking, even though she sees the quirk at the corner of her lips, Shirayuki’s cheeks flare fire-engine red.

“Hey!” Zen snaps, not looking much better. “Shirayuki--”

“Well.” Obi’s mouth cants, eyes catching hers from their corners. “I know Beaumains is under her spell.”

She can feel it, this moment of opportunity being flung open like a window, and -- and his wink is not helping matters. Not at all. Especially not when Kihal’s flirt back or make out with his face is burning a hole in her pocket, reminding her of what she was trying to do before plot carried her away. It’s just --

She can’t say something now. This isn’t Lynet and Beaumains, this is -- is them, Shirayuki and Obi, and that might mean something, and she doesn’t -- she isn’t --

Well, there’s just a huge difference between a flirtation and a boyfriend, probably. And she hardly knows if she wants the first, let alone -- that. Not with some college boy she’s known a week. He might play trumpet, for all she knows.

The moment stretches on, too long, and Kiki hums, amused. “I suppose that is some damning evidence.”

“Okay.” Zen’s folded himself into a huff, fuming so hard it’s an honest surprise smoke isn’t pouring out his ears. “So you all think we should just...hang around? Hope for some Big Bad to come wandering back to check his work?”

“Well.” The word bursts out of her, unbidden, but -- she’s committed now, with everyone watching her. “We do have, um, another reason.”

He blinks, some of his flush fading back to pink. “Oh?”

“I, uh, only prepared one Removed Curse at our last rest.” Her hands twist themselves in knots under the table, anxious. “But I can fix that at our next one! If this works like it should, then I should be able to get everyone on their feet in...a few days, maybe?”

Zen lets loose a whine that would make a puppy worry. “A few days.”

“Um, well...” Shirayuki squirms in her seat. “Give or take.”

Kiki’s eyes narrow. “Just how many spell slots do you have?”

“Um...” She flips through her sheet, squinting at the chart on the second page. “Three?”

Mitsuhide lets out a worried hum, too high-pitched for a man his size. “How many people are under this spell again?”

The question sits heavily at the table until Izana leans back, the picture of surprise, and asks, “Oh, are you asking me?”

Zen stares. “Is there someone else who would know?”

“It could have been rhetorical. A nice little thought exercise.” He shrugs, and Shirayuki does not miss the way his mouth twitches at a corner. “But the answer is: as many as it takes to make a castle of this size function.”

Zen groans.

“Oh, looks like we better get comfy, my liege,” Obi says with a wolfish grin. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

This night is your longest yet; you had thought the first interminable, when all the miasma of illness hung thick over the room, choking you even behind yours mask. Despair had clung to every wrinkle in your gown, tight like a child’s hand on a mother’s apron, always niggling, reminding you that time would run out, that perhaps no amount of your cleverness could save them.

But hope is worse.

There is no reason to pick the man you do -- or rather, the lack of one becomes it. With only a single brew, Bedwyr suggests that you spend it on the castle’s healer, but--

But this magic is familiar somehow. It slicks along your skin like a drop of oil in water, and though you cannot divine its maker, you do not trust it to act as it ought. Curse though it may be, there is a part of you that worries any cure that you brew will only add to your troubles.

You worry over that same thought for endless hours, trying to get to the marrow of it, to logic out why dread settles so firmly in your gut. There has never been an instance, not one, where your gifts have failed you, where the joy of victory has turned to ashes in your mouth. Except for the one, of course.

Despite your misgivings, the man wakes at dawn.

It is not a calm thing, oh no; he heaves into life, breath filling his chest so forcefully it arches him upright. He clutches at his breast, wide-eyed, but besides the atrophy expected of long illness and the shock of waking, he is healthy. So healthy he empties the first bowl of broth you give him, and the second, and when you bring the third he inquires after a heel of bread as well.

“Well, this certainly stands as a testament to your skill,” Arturius remarks, bemused, as the man sops up his bowl. You are tired, and for a moment you are tempted to ask if he had doubted it, but -- it would be picking a fight, and it is not the prince’s fault that his particular skills meant he slept, rather than wait.

“I brewed more last night,” you tell him. “Enough dose for three.”

“Our priority is the healer, of course.” He bites his lip, head tipped back in thought. “But the others...”

For the first time in hours, you feel your mouth lift into a smile. “I did have a thought about that...”

Izana blinks. “The dwarf?”

“He’s cursed, isn’t he?” She must be the only one that remembers; despite happening only hours ago, the rest of the party stares blankly at her. “Worse than anyone else, if I’m remembering right.”

“Oh,” Obi hums, thoughtful. “Yeah, I think I remember that. He’s human.”

“Oh, right.” Zen scoops up the dwarf’s figure, squinting hard at its shapeless features. “I thought he was going to be the Big Bad’s sidekick, honestly.”

“Mm, agreed.” Kiki leans over, giving the plastic the same skeptical look. “I was waiting for the backstab.”

“Such little faith in your fellow man,” Izana clucks, shaking his head.

She arches a brow, eloquent in her disdain. “It is your game.”

His mouth stretches, curling into a smile Shirayuki’s only ever seen on the Grinch. “That is fair.”

“Still.” The word drags Izana’s attention back to her, his eyes almost comically wide. “I want to give our friend at least one of these. After all, he’s been helping us this whole time.”

“Has he though?” Obi mutters, and without even thinking, Shirayuki puts an elbow straight in his side.

Every hair stands on end as she realizes what she’s done. She’s -- she’s practically scolded him, the boy she maybe-kind of-might want to flirt with. Or his character, at least. For, you know, fun.

When she dares a glance at him, his eyes have rounded, eyebrows practically up at his hairline, but -- but --

He almost looks impressed.

“Huh,” Izana huffs out, drawing her attention back to the topic at hand. “Do you now.”

It’s not a question, but she hasn’t gotten this far by letting him practice his rhetoric. “I do.”

He hums, tapping at his notes. “Well, I suppose you could...try.”

“Me?” The dwarf shifts on his spindly legs, wringing his thick-fingered hands over his belly. “But -- but there are others. Other who would be of much more use than me!”

“We have more than enough for your healer,” you assure him, though you have to grit your teeth as he dances.

There’s something strange, off-kilter about the way he moves, about the way his face changes, as if your mind is trying to make him into two different people entirely -- one which is familiar, and one which is entirely not. It is tiring to say the least.

You meet his eyes, those warm hazel-green, and say, “You have helped us immeasurably. Who else could be more important than you?”

“The head of the guard?” he supplies with a squeak. “The steward. The -- the cook? Anyone, my lady, would be more helpful that me.”

You lower yourself to a chair, coming to his height. “No one is more important here than the man who knows how this all came to be.”

His gaze is watery when he tears it from yours. “No, no,” he insists, voice ragged. “Spend it on the others. All of them are more deserving than me.”

"Welp.” Obi pops the ‘p’, annoyed, and it draws attention to his mouth, to the way it fits around the words he speaks and -- well, Shirayuki really didn’t need help with that. “We’re doing real good, solving this mystery.”

It’s been three in-game days, and with every awoken man, more questions are asked than answered. So far none of them can remember being cursed, and when they bring the dwarf in front of them --

Well, Shirayuki knows this is all pretend, that the dwarf is really just Izana bending his voice into something new, but the way his expression crumples as every soldier calls him a stranger -- it’s a lot.

“What is even happening here?” Zen groans, fingers pulling at his face. “The dwarf knows something, but he won’t tell us.”

“He can’t tell us.” It comes out a little sharper than she intends, but -- it’s an important distinction. “He’s cursed.”

“Right,” he agrees absently. “But also he won’t let us help him, so it’s pretty much the same thing.”

Her hands clench on her lap. “It’s really n--”

“Can’t you just cast it on him anyway?” Obi asks, chin in hand, drumming his fingers on the table. “Then bingo-bango-bongo: the whole problem is solved.”

Her jaw drops. “I’m not going to treat a patient without his consent!”

Obi rounds on her, eyes incredulously wide. “He’s not real.”

That...is a good point, she’ll give him that.

“Well, he’s real to Lynet,” she informs him primly, setting her hands flat on the table. “And she would never.”

For a moment is mouth goes flat, annoyed, but then -- then it curls, Obi leaning casual on one fist. “I’m sure Beaumains could be persuasive.”

Her mouth wraps around the word, silent. The look he gives her is too knowing, eyebrows lifted in invitation, and she’s so, so tempted to ask just what kind of persuasion Beaumains might be inspired to do--

“Even if Shirayuki cast it, he could still resist it with a Will save,” Mitsuhide interjects, sending the moment skittering. “If he wanted to, at least. And then we’d be out of a spell slot.”

“If we’re stuck here, we should be focusing on the Big Bad anyway.” Zen settles back in his chair, running a hand through his hair and leaving it adorably askew, like he’d just woken up. “Someone has to have said something interesting, right? And we’re not just thinking about it.”

Mitsuhide leans a chin in his hand, pondering the idea. “The head of the guard mentioned that a traveling caravan came through before this all happened.”

Kiki nods. “And the steward mentioned buying wood from traveling merchants. Probably the ones who supplied the logs with the Will debuff.”

Zen settles back, thoughtful. “So you think they were force to sell the wood?”

“They must have some leverage on them,” Mitsuhide agrees. “They didn’t mention any children--”

“Or maybe,” Kiki deadpans, “they were all bandits?”

Mitsuhide gapes. “But there were women in the caravan.”

“Oh my,” she hums, teeth flashing behind her lips. “You’re right. How silly of me. We all know a woman could never be dangerous, oh no.”

“T-that’s not what I meant!”

“Oh?” Kiki smiles, and the room drops an entire degree. Shirayuki practically shivers in the chill. “It better not be.”

Shirayuki blinks, and between one moment as the next, Kiki stabs her pen into the table, leaving it quivering like a knife.

Izana huffs in annoyance. “Kiki, please. The table didn’t do anything to you.”

“It’s just between the leaves.” She shift her character sheets, and there it is: pen nib wedged perfectly into the crevice. With nothing more than a sharp tug, it’s back out again, twirling between Kiki’s long fingers. “Besides, it’s not like this is some family heirloom.”

“No,” Izana agrees, “but it’s the principle of the thing.”

“Okay, aside from Princess Kiki’s love for violence, which, by the way--” Obi tosses her a wink, which absolutely does not send a jolt of disappointment spear through Shirayuki’s belly-- “hot. It looks like our only lead are these bandits.”

Mitsuhide grunts. “We don’t know if they’re bandits.”

“Fine, Schrödinger’s bandits,” he sighs. “We don’t--what?”

The table is quiet, wide-eyed -- even Izana -- and into the silence, Zen says, “You know Schrödinger?”

Obi huffs. “What? I go to college. I know memes.”

“Wow,” Kiki manages, drawling every letter.

“Anyway.” Zen wields the word like a knife, trying to cut through the distractions. “We should track down these bandits--”

Mitsuhide clears his throat.

“Potential bandits,” Zen amends, annoyed. “So while Shirayuki is tending to the people here, we can start canvassing the area.”

“Oh!” It slips out of her, like a punch to the gut. If she’s back at the castle, and Beaumains is out looking for bandits --

She shakes her head. That’s not what this game is about. It’s about saving her sister and having fun with her friends, not -- not practice flirting.

Unfortunately, it’s too late to take it back. Every eye at the table falls on her, and she squirms. “Um.”

“That isn’t very fair,” Kiki observes, dragging her gaze to Zen. “Shirayuki should get a chance to have an adventure too, not just heal in the background.”

“But we can’t take her with us.”

She hadn’t even minded being left behind -- Izana would give her something to do, and it wasn’t as if Lynet would feel strongly about bandit chasing -- but it stings, hearing it from his mouth. Zen had wanted her to be Gwenhwyfar, to be the one waving the handkerchief from the parapets. Instead she’d made Lynet -- an alchemist, an arcanist, an asset -- but even still he’s finding ways to keep her at Camelot, leaving her behind when the knights rode out.

Mitsuhide grunts, disapproving.

“She’s using her highest slots to do this curse thing,” Zen explains, and she gets it, she does, it just doesn’t help. “If we find the Big Bad--”

“--We should probably have our healer with us.” Obi’s mouth cants into a lop-sided smile, cajoling. “Come on, my liege. We don’t have to jump in the deep end the second we get a hint of where this guy is. We have plenty of time to give my lady here a heads up before we get ourselves neck-deep in trouble.”

He winks, and -- and maybe she’s just projecting, but it feels different from the one he gave Kiki. More...personal.

“Um.” Now is really not the time to blurt out, I’m more upset that I can’t flirt with your character, so she just nods, ducking her head so he can’t see her blush. “Okay! But I’ll need a day to swap out my spells.”

He’s just -- adjusting, she knows that, but his foot swipes right along the bottom of hers and every hair stands on end. Oh, goodness. “We’ll see what we can do, my lady.”

Each day, more men awake from their stupors; three at a time, all of them disoriented, groggy. You had hoped that when you woke the healer, he would at least be able to ease your burden, but all the cursed are emaciated, their muscles atrophied to the point that they must be helped to the chamber pot and back. It is up to you to brew the potions, to cook the broth and, eventually, heartier stews to strengthen them.

And still there are more chores; small things: opening windows and keeping your stores stocked, organizing and documenting the treatment of your patients. Each day blends into each other, sleep only coming in fits and starts and never restful. Still, it is enough. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, hands doing what you ask of them, until --

Until one day they don’t.

Most of the men have not been moved from the great hall, though now, at least, there is room between them to walk, not just bodies laid haphazardly across the stone. It is not a situation you find ideal, however -- it is not feasible to move so many, and in their fugue state, few will care about privacy or proximity. However, those awoken few have been moved to more private chambers; the weft of the curse is thick, as fine a weave as any linen, and you suspect it does not allow any inference, either magic or mundane. Those who lay dreaming are free from any ailment save the caster’s making, but the others --

Well, that many men pressed so close is just tinder waiting for a kindling.

There is a way within Laxdo’s halls to reach the dormitories from the great hall, however, a quick dash through the courtyard’s arcades cuts minutes off a day that already has too few to spare. You hurry through, gaze set ever forward, laden with yet another heavy box of supplies.

Your mind is not on your day, of course. Oh no, it has long wandered far into stranger lands. The dwarf is what plagues your thoughts, for with every man that wakes, their eyes passing over him with barely more than a curious glance and no flash of recognition, he fades a little further. One day, you fear, you will turn to see he is little more than a shadow, a suggestion rather than a reality.

Whoever he is, he must be much changed. Perhaps he is knight, strong bodied and deep-voice; or perhaps he is truly only a boy, and --

Your heel catches, so hard that your teeth jitter in their sockets. It snaps your spine straight, feet staggering beneath you to balance both your weight and the box’s.

All for naught; the shock jolts like lightning through your limbs, and the moment you right yourself, the box slips from boneless fingers, straight to the stone below.

There is a moment where your life flashes before your eyes. Or at least, the last week, which has felt like a lifetime. On shivering fawn legs, you bend, touching each bottle and jar as if they were the saints’ bones themselves. It is not the first inventory you have done with your heart lodged in your throat, but it is certainly the one where you had the most to lose. After all, it wasn’t as if the people of Castle Perilous would rely on their young mistress alone.

Your breath huffs out on a sigh. Misfortune’s bony fingers have no hooks in your skirts today. Not one cracked jar or one broken seal.

You get to your feet, hauling the box into you arms, but -- but you are made suddenly and terrifying aware that you have not slept for days. The world swings in a mad carousel around you, and with the momentum of your lift and the weight of the box you tilt back --

But never hit the ground.

“Oh,” Zen groans, flopping back in his seat. “Come on. Really?”

“Oooh, master, you just wish you had moves like me.” Obi’s hips give a sultry swivel in his seat as he scoops up his natural twenty. It absolutely does not give Shirayuki any -- any ideas. The room is just unnaturally warm for a basement.

“Careful, smooth moves,” Kiki deadpans. “K-pop impressions and bad pick-up lines won’t save you from not investing in your health.”

Obi huffs out a laugh with one of his devil-may-care shrugs. “I don’t invest in nerd things like hit points, I invest in being cool, and I stand by that decision. Besides,” he says, pink flaring high on his cheeks, “my pick-up lines are great.”

“Name one that worked.”

“I dunno.” His shoulders hunch, defensive. “All of them.”

Kiki’s eyebrows lift. “On who?”

Me. Shirayuki catches the word in her teeth, swallowing it down. It’s not -- it’s not even true. Beaumains has been using them on Lynet, and Lynet is the one interested, not -- not her. They’re different people. Probably.

“You know.” He sniffs. “People. You don’t know them.”

If anything, Kiki’s brows only raise higher. “Hmm.”

“If we’re quite done speculating about Obi’s romantic prowess,” Izana interjects smoothly. “I do believe we’re in the middle of something?”

Heat blooms across your back, the way it would when you sat at the hearth, tilting a book so it might not lay in shadow. It smolders along your side, not like a bonfire, but a brazier, or even a bed warmer --

Ah, now there is a thought your father would not appreciate you having.

Your gaze is fixed to your supplies, but it takes you a long moment to realize you are not holding them. No, it is a steady hand over you, sheathed in black leather, and in one, delirious moment, you realize that bare indigo must be pressed into your back, hooking just so at your hip. He doesn’t even shake.

“Careful there, my lady.” The words rumble against your ear, too intimate in the cage of his chest. “Keep this up, and a man could get ideas.”

You lift your gaze, gold tangling with green, breath catching in your throat. He might have made a shoddy assassin, but as your protector, well --

“Do you think if it happens another time, you will believe it?”

He blinks, eyes as wide and gold as coins. “Believe what?”

With all the courage you can summon, you mimic his flirtatious smirk and say, “That I’m falling for you.”

If the birds still sang at Laxdo, then the air would not be so still, so silent. At it is, you could hear a pin drop, so long as it was louder than the throb of your heart.

In a single, staggering moment, you are back on your feet, and Beaumains shakes his head, hunching his shoulders against the cold. “You need to work on your delivery.”

Your jaw snaps shut. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not the flirting type, my lady.” He shrugs, a smirk peeking out from behind his cowl. “Too earnest, I think.”

Blood boils in your veins, and you know he can see it on your skin when you say, “It does not seem fair that you may make love as you wish, but yet I cannot.”

He huffs out a laugh, sweeping a step closer. Oh, he smells...nice. Leather and pine with a hint of brimstone. “You know what I have and you don’t, my lady?”

“What?” You wish it wasn’t so breathless.

He leans in, and unbidden, your eyes flutter to half-mast. “Charisma.”

“Wait.” Kiki snags his sheet, sliding it across the table. “How on earth is your charisma higher than your con?”

“I’m a rogue-sorcerer!” Obi squeaks, snatching it back. “It’s my casting stat.”

“This is ridiculous,” she decides. “Are you planning on using it any time soon?”

He gapes. “I use it all the time!”

“I mean besides for bad pick-up lines.”

“How do you think I snuck up on Shirayuki at all?” He waves his hands. “Obviously magic!”

“I mean...” Kiki shrugs. “There is a stealth stat for a reason. A good rogue wouldn’t need Invisibility--”

He sniffs. “There’s just no reasoning with you, Princess.”

“I thought you were supposed to be bandit hunting.” The words come out breathless, and you wish you were like Morgaine, who never sounds as if anything bothers her at all, instead of -- of this. A girl ripe to be teased, since she can never wear her heart anywhere but on her sleeve.

He looks out over the yard, eyes squinting into the distance, and it is a fine view for watching the smirk creep up the side of his face. “Seemed like my job was here, my lady.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, as suddenly and easily as if he had laid a hand over your heart. Still, you frown. “And you did not think to announce yourself?”

“You did well enough alone,” he tells you with a speculative glance, and the flash in his eyes makes you think he likes what he sees. That he is, perhaps, even a little impressed with you. “And anyway, it seemed like you understood well enough about hiding in plain sight.”

You do not miss the bite of censure in his words, the warmth spreading from your chest to your cheeks. He put space between you, but you close it as you say, “I am the only one who can do this work, I do not have the luxury of--”

“Peace, my lady.” He holds up his hands, as if he might ward you off like a bitch anxious over her pups. “I know well enough. Still...” He edges a step back, teeth flashing white against the dark of his face. “Should you not be wary of me?”

You stare, brows furrowed. “Wary? Has not Uther himself consigned me to your care?”

“That’s true enough,” he admits, hand raising to squeeze at his shoulder. An old injury must lay there, aggravated by the heavy weather. “Though I thought His Grace would fill your head with all sorts of things.”

“Things?”

“Speculations. Rumor.” He grins, sharp enough to cut, though it is not a blade faced outward. “Maybe even something close to the truth.”

“Beaumains.” You step closer, and he watches you now, not the quintain creaking in the distance. “I think my own thoughts, not those of Arturius. And I have never been wary of you.”

The arcade is so quiet, you can hear his breath rasp in his chest.

“Besides--” you let yourself share in some of his smile-- “I was the one who had you pinned.”

“My lady,” he protests, “I let you--”

“I think we can call this argument thoroughly explored,” Izana informs them. “Not that I do not enjoy the enthusiastic roleplay.”

“Oh!” Shirayuki chirps, hands clapping to cover her blush. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“No need.” You do not miss the twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. “Besides, I think we all know it was your tanglefoot bag that did the pinning.”

“In any case,” you continue, perhaps a little forcefully, “you have proven yourself to be a man worthy of trust in my eyes.”

Beaumains stares, inscrutable. “My lady...”

Whatever words he means to say are lost; he folds his lips around them and the moment carries them away.

“My lady,” he tries again, more sure. “You’re wearing yourself down.”

“I am fine--”

“Perhaps His Grace--”

“I am fine,” you insist, sharper than you intend. “There is no reason to worry Arturius. So you might as well not.”

The silence between you itches, and when those golden eyes look at you, when they stare through you as if you were a specimen under glass, you want to squirm out of your own skin. “Who says I have to listen to anything you say?”

Uther. The name bubbles up, unbidden. You would have to be a fool to speak it; what passed between assassin and king is known by them alone. To pretend you know either of their minds would be a mistake of the rarest form.

Instead, you take a step forward, skirt brushing over the toes of his boots. “You owe me.”

His eyes narrow, thoughtful. “Owe you?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “You do.”

He stares at you, and you know he remembers the same as you do: the botched assassination, him grabbing your wrists and pulling you under him, the way his skin had warmed so pleasantly against yours --

“Fine.” His gaze swivels away, chin turned so much your neck hurts just looking at it. “But...why keep it a secret, my lady?”

Teeth prick at your lips. You cannot just say, Arturius. Not when he has been so kind to you, when he has taken on this quest that no other would. But still, still -- you were barely allowed to come. If he were to know that you are weary, or weak, or, Father forfend, overwhelmed --

Well, you do not have to imagine what sort of behavior that might invite from His Grace.

“Because I can manage on my own,” you say instead, lifting the box from his hands.

Or at least, you would, if he would let go. “We’re only having this talk because you’re not managing, my lady.”

Ah, that is...a point. Your shoulders drop, grip loosening until it is once again only Beaumains that holds it. “I...”

“My lady?” You cannot meet his gaze, but you feel it on you, warm and inquisitive, perhaps even concerned.

“It’s only...”

He leans in. You can feet his heat against your skin.

“The dwarf,” you manage, a flush gathering at where your wimple meets your collar. “There’s something about him.”

“He’s short?” Beaumains offers, voice low, a pleasant rumble so close to you. “He’s cursed?”

Your mouth pulls thin. “That is not what a meant. However...” You shake your head, at a loss. “I only have this...this feeling. It is important that he be cured of his affliction. But...if he does not want to be saved before the others...”

Frustration tangles your tongue. If only you knew what words would convince him, what proof you needed to lay before him --

“Ah,” Beaumains sighs, mouth crooking into a grin. “Is that all?”

Izana blinks as his phone hoots at him, scanning the screen.

“Hm.” He sets it aside, laying it square on the table. “Obi, if you would come with me.”

Zen’s eyes narrow as they stand, gaze darting between them. “What are you doing?”

“Me and the big boss here have some business in hallway time,” Obi tells him with a grin even Shirayuki has to admit is insufferable. “Got a problem with it?”

He frowns. “Why do you need that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” With a waggle of his eyebrows, Obi skips around the corner of the stairs and is gone. The door above shuts with an almost jaunty click.

“Wha--?” Zen stares after him, sputtering. “That’s why I’m asking!”

It is quiet, for once. Only the moan of the wind outside and the scratch of your nib against parchment reach your ears, the crackle of the fire long faded into the background of your mind. It lulls you, the gentle sweep of your own hand, and you close your eyes -- just a blink --

Only to wake at the creak of your door.

“Lynet.”

You do not expect the prince to darken your door, not this late at night, but here he is, cloak dusted with snow, sword at his hip. He follows your gaze, and he seems shocked to find his blade there as well, as if he does not always keep it at his side.

“Arturius,” you say, rising to your feet. “I didn’t think to see you so late.”

“I needed to know something.” He sweeps a hand toward your bed. “Would you mind?”

You blink, and for a moment, he is a different man telling you to get to a bed, gaunleted hands reaching --

“Yes,” you gasp, shaking yourself. This is different. Arturius is a friend. You trust him. “Of course.”

Your legs dangle off the side of the bed, toes just brushing the floor, and he draws his chair up in front of you, holding your hand.

“Close your eyes,” he says. “I’m going to count.”

“Are you taking my pulse?” His fingers are not in the proper place for such a thing. At your wrist is truly--

“Please,” he laughs. “Just trust me.”

You do, and so your eyes flutter closed. For a moment, you are only aware of your breath, of his touch, and you --

Jolt awake, as the door flies open again.

“Beaumains!” Arturius snaps, dropping your hand as if it scalds. “What are you--?

It is only once he is in the room room that you can see -- there is someone behind him. A small someone.

The dwarf.

Beaumain’s smile stretches smugly from ear-to-ear. “Our friend here says he’ll do it.”

“What?” Zen squaws, glaring daggers at his brother before settling back on Obi. “How could you?”

“How could I what?” Obi grins, hooking his hands behind his head. “Get the job done?”

“Intimidate him!” He waves a hand vaguely towards the head of the table. “He’s our friend!”

Obi blinks. “Izana?”

“No, not -- I mean the dwarf!” He lets out a huff. “Izana is definitely not our friend.”

“Brother.” Izana presses a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

“You’re like Rasputin,” Zen tells him. “You’ll get over it.”

“I didn’t intimidate either of them.” Obi darts a glance at her, hooking her with a grin. “I just used my raw charisma.”

Kiki groans. “Go home.”

“Are you certain?” You glance at Beaumains behind him, but there is no menace to the man, just an unseemly amount of gloating. “I will not force you.”

The dwarf hesitates, wringing his small hands over his belly, but in the end he nods, meeting your gaze with a confidence that is wholly new. “I am ready, my lady.”

Your hand shakes as his fingers cup the rounded bottom of the flask, as he pulls the glass from your grasp, and with a deep, steeling sigh, upends the entirety of the potion into his throat.

“Oh!” The sound hiccups out of you, and though you’ve worn a groove in your voice the shape of the warnings you give each time, they tangle in your mouth. It is too late to say, drink slowly, to say, stop if it does not feel right, and oh, you are usual say this to a man prone, insensate --

And yet, nothing happens.

It takes time, you know. Your palms itch, eager to reach for your notes, to see if this was too long an interval, if this was a sign that this geas was worse, that the caster was fighting your remedy --

A muscle twitches. The dwarf blinks, raising his hand -- his hand that is now large, now small, that cannot decide its size at all, which is fine since his whole body follows suit, growing and shrinking. His shoulders rounds as his spine stretches, as if he’s hit a wall, some sort of barrier --

And it shatters, like an egg’s shell, his body growing well beyond its confines, the proportion of his limbs and face changing, until --

“Oh!” You whirl around, putting your back to him. “Oh my!”

“Ah,” the man says, his voice reedy, yet not as high as you remember. “I had hoped that this might be better done.”

“Here.” Arturius tosses one of the sheets from the cots. “Cover yourself.”

“I thank you,” the man says, humiliation riding high in his tone. “My lady, please forgive me, I did not think--”

“You...you are--” it is hard to find the words with your cheeks as hot as this -- “you are the lord of Laxdo’s son!”

He lets out a single, pained laugh. “I am afraid I am more than that now, my lady. I am Laxdo’s lord.”

“But--”

“Arturius!” Bedwyr sweeps into the room, ragged. “The men are all waking!”

“Wait, wait.” Shirayuki shakes her head, brow furrowed. “I removed his curse, and now everyone is healed?”

Izana lifts a hand in a lazy shrug. “So it would seem.”

“But...but...” She swivels, fixing on him. “But he didn’t want to be turned back! He wouldn’t let us, not until--” Shirayuki stops, her brain rushing to put the pieces together. “That was part of the compulsion. He wouldn’t let the curse be broken so that we -- so that I--”

She groans. “We could have done this in a day.”

“Welcome to Izanafinder,” Kiki deadpans. “He may not kill you, but he will make you wish you were dead.”

“My name is Shuuka,” the man says, better settled with the sheet around his hips. You still keep finding the wall just over his left shoulder fascinating. If only Bedwyr would be faster at locating the young lord’s costume. “I must admit, I had hoped you might remember it, my lady.”

You grimace. “I am...very bad with names. My father often despaired of it.”

And as in all his wishes, it bore very little fruit.

“I think I remember that.” He laughs, weary. “It is no matter. I am in your debt regardless.”

“Pray, do not think on it,” you tell him, even as Arturius grunts. “I would not have a soul beholden to me.”

You do not miss Beaumain’s cough, nor the amused way he watches you from the door. Doubtlessly, he would find time to say his piece on that, but it will not be now.

“But, my lady--”

“What would help us most would be if you told us what happened,” Arturius says, oddly strangled. “Since you are the only one that seems to remember.”

Shuuka blinks, as if he had forgotten his prince sat mere steps away. “Of course. I shall explain it all to you.”

“That would be--”

“But first.” He slips his hand around yours, smiling shyly. “We must celebrate how you have saved us.”

“Oh,” you breathe, gaze flying to Arturius. A muscle in his jaw jumps. “I do not think--”

“Please, give me this,” Shuuka insists. “A banquet in your honor.”

You do not look at him, but you can feel Beaumain’s grin as a palpable touch. “Truly, it is not necessary. It was all of us who--”

“Ah yes, then in all your honor!” He squeezes your hand, and gives you a boyish smile that sends you straight back to girlhood. “All the men have been healed, and it would do them good to have a night of merriment.”

You cannot refute it would raise morale. Which would be much needed, once they took in the state of Laxdo’s disrepair. “I suppose...”

He leaps to his feet, thankfully taking the sheet with him. “Then a banquet it is!”

Shirayuki buries her face in her hands. “Oh my.”

“Oooh,” Obi croons. “Looks like you got some competition, my liege.”

Zen frowns. “Oh, shut up.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #Dungeons & Dragons AU #my fic #ans #for all of you that were hoping for flirting #YOU NOW HAVE THIS #also please enjoy 6.5K of this because THERE WAS NO GOOD PLACE TO STOP #I keep hoping this arc will wrap up so i get get to SOME STUFF but NOPE #can't possibly shut up XD

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dontyoudarejudgemesworld · 4 years

Text

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far: Chapter Three

Alright guys, so this takes place after a bit of a time skip. While I know that time skips are like coma theories (as in a sort of cheap way out) this is meant to illustrate the sort of relation ship Bill and her 'uncle' are creating. It's a long one (6,000+ words) but gives some insight to the characters. I know not everyone is a fan of time skips but if I were to go from start to finish for this whole fic it would be longer then the whole Lord of the Rings series so forgive me. The next few chapters will all include some kind of time skip as the focus of them is more to establish and form relationships serving as kind of independent one shots instead of parts of the over arching story-line. I understand that this may be a bit unpopular but considering what's coming it seems the best way to structure it to achieve my end goal with out having it drag on forever. I told you this was going to get weird. Also as an aside, I know there were some grammar and spelling errors in the first two chapters, this is due in part to my normal Beta reader being unavailable (because adulting is time consuming). That being said I had a stand in look this over an took much more time in transcribing it so I hope most of the errors were addressed.

Once again it’s posted here on AO3. And now onward to the insanity.

~*~ One Year Later

Stan sat pantsless in the TV room wondering if this was what contentment felt like. Beside him on the floor sat Billie leaning back against the dinosaur skull staring at the trash TV that played across the screen. Murphy announced ‘you ARE NOT the father’ for the third time in a row and the young woman who sat beside him burst out crying as a man who looked like he should be selling used cars jumped up triumphantly to the jeers of the audience. Beside Stan, his ‘niece’ let out a sharp bark of laughter as she took a sip of her soda. He glanced at her and shook his head; she really was a strange one.

In baggy basketball shorts and a tank top, he could see the mural of tattoos she sported. The sleeve on her right arm was actually a bed of colorful flowers and vines with skulls woven in, macabre but beautiful if he was honest. On her left shoulder was a raven’s head that looked like it was tearing through her flesh that was a little to photo-realistic for his taste. She also had a peacock on her left thigh with a long flowing tail that curved around to end on her knee cap, and a small green dog robot thing from some cartoon or other with the word ‘DOOM!!’ in crude childish letters on her right ankle. Wild black curls spilled over her shoulders in an unkempt mane and dark circles around her eyes told him that she had spent too long at the Skull Fracture last night getting rowdy with the lumberjacks. “Told you, Stan that means you’re picking up the tab at Greasy’s,” she told him cheerfully and he let out an exaggerated groan. He should know by now that betting against her was a fool errand. Over the last year, he’d learned a lot of things about Billie. Like she had no fixed address just various post office boxes, and instead, she lived out of a duffle bag and motel rooms. She worked for herself and seemed to make pretty decent money though he had all but confirmed his suspicion that she toed a very fine line between what was legal and what wasn’t. In truth, she played it pretty close to the vest when it came to discussing her work but she’d let a few things slip and he was willing to bet that she was a bloodhound at least part of the time. Someone that loan sharks and crime lords used to find people that didn't want to be found. A dangerous and ethically ambiguous profession at best. And while he couldn’t help but dislike that idea he couldn’t exactly say too much on the matter, instead of taking some small comfort in the fact that at least she wasn’t a full-fledged criminal like he’d been. Maybe if she had kids one day they’d manage to be upstanding members of society, but something told him she wasn’t the settling down type. Overall throughout seven visits and quite a few calls they had developed a comfortable relationship. After the fourth visit, he’d broken down and invited her to just come to stay at the Shack instead of staying at The Twin Beds. Which he regretted almost instantly; Wendy and Soos had both noticed at once and plied him with questions. Fortunately, Billie seemed to have inherited his Ma’s snake tongue and smoothly lied that she was the daughter of an old acquaintance that he was helping out with a place to stay between jobs without batting an eye. Soos and Wendy had been a bit wary of her at first, but they’d come to warm up to her. She tended to help around the shop and was generally amicable flashing charming smiles and quick wit to win them over. He was fairly certain she’d won over Wendy by covering for her so she could skip out to hang out with her friends a few times but couldn’t prove it. And Soos’s natural good nature had caused him to warm to her quickly, especially when she started helping him come up with and build new attractions for Stan to take credit for. When he wasn’t leading tours and she wasn’t off drinking and brawling with the bikers of the town (a pass time she seemed to enjoy a tad too much in his opinion) the two of them usually spent their time watching trash TV in between runs to Greasy’s diner and the bar. Though after she’d started staying with him he’d discovered that the woman could cook. He’d told her at one point that she didn’t need to but she’d shrugged it off with a smile and that cool laugh of hers saying ‘I spent enough nights hungry and cold that it’s a pleasure to be able to make a decent meal.’ That thought had given him pause to wonder what exactly she’d been through; her mother certainly sounded like a piece of work, but it seemed like so much more. But as much as he wanted to know he didn’t ask. In fact, he hardly asked her anything about her past and she in return didn’t ask about his. Instead, they had found a strange sort of comfort in each other's company. Two broken people who had had hard lives that could spend time around the other without pretending to be anything more than they were. The first few visits they'd both been on their best behavior, Billie had kept her habits of beer and brawling to herself and he had cut back on the cigar and shoplifting. But after an incident involving Billie sucker-punching a guy for asking her if she wanted to come back to his room and put a smile on her pretty face after which Stan had declared it was time to leave snatching the guy's wallet as they fled they had come to a silent agreement that they didn't need to put on 'upstanding citizens' acts anymore. He had thought a few times that he vaguely remembered that this strange feeling of accepting each other for who they were was what family had felt like back when Ford and he had been children, but he couldn’t quite be sure. “Earth to Stan,” Billie’s smooth southern drawl broke through his thoughts pulling him back to find her head cocked staring up at him one brow cocked curiously, “You didn't hear a damned word I said did yuh?” she asked a smirk pulling on her lips. “Naw, I was too busy thinking how sick I’m gonna feel at dinner so I cant go to Greasy’s,” he told her to cover his sappy musing. She rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “The most expensive thing on the menu is 15 dollars. I know you're cheap but…,” she began only to be interrupted as an obnoxious commercial can on the volume raising ten octaves. “Are you completely miserable?” came Bud Gleeful’s voice. “Well I am now,” she growled putting one hand over her ear and glaring at the TV as the commercial played. Watching she cocked an eyebrow as Stan’s picture flashed up to be stamped with ‘FRAUD’, “What bullshrimp is this?” she asked incredulously, “That the chubby car salesman? He’s ten times the liar yuh are, how the hell does he have the gall to call yuh out like that?” “I know, right? At least my customers have some interesting stories to go with the junk I sell them,” he said indignantly, “And what’s worse is it’s working. He’s got his kid pretending to be psychic and the tourists are eating it up. Heck, even the locals are. Putting a real cramp in my wallet. I wish there was something I could do to hit him hard but nothing seems to be working. Even the Squid-abitt isn’t enough,” he railed shaking his head. Beside him, Billie cocked her head one eye squinted in thought as she stared at the TV. “What about someone who can talk ta the dead?” she asked and his head snapped over to her his eyebrows shooting up. “What? Well, yeah that would be a real money maker but who the hell do I know that can do that?” he scoffed as he took a drink of his soda, “Even I can't pull that off.” “I can,” she said matter factly and his face pulled into a look of bored skepticism. “Yeah, and I can teach a pig to fly,” he snorted and she looked up at him that sly smirk of hers slowly crawling over her lips. “Ya wound me, Stanford. I’m from the south where snake oil peddlers are ah’ dime ah’ dozen. Hell Bud’s one that’s why he’s pulling this off so well,” she told him in a slightly condescending tone, “Tell you what I’ll go double or nothing on Greasy’s. If I can give yuh a two-night show that will make more then you do in the same two days. That means two dinners at Greasy’s and braggin’ rights from now until the end of the world,” she challenged and he couldn’t help the lopsided grin that pulled at his lips. “Only if you get it up and running by Saturday,” he added, that would give her the rest of the night and tomorrow to prepare. Not to mention that those were the moneymaker days with tour buses on top of regular foot traffic. A challenge he was sure even she couldn’t pull off but she just grinned and put her hand out. “Prepare ta eat crow, Stanford Pines,” she told him as he grasped her hand causing him to let out a sharp hoarse laugh. “Even you aren’t that good kid,” he sniped unable to help the smug laugh that escaped him at the fire that lit in her eyes at his challenge. “Oh you’re fixin’ ta eat those words old man,” she warned as she hopped to her feet. “Hey what about dinner,” he barked as she turned on her heel to head up to the attic. “Time is money, Stanford. Order Chinese from that there place at the mall, card’s by the phone,” she snapped as she hustled off to get started. Watching her go he couldn’t help but smile. She really was something else, and he’d managed to get dinner without paying for it.

~*~

A day and a half…that was all he’d given her. And now he was thinking that had been too much time. The woman had to be some sort of witch. There was no other explanation as to how literally overnight she’d managed to pull this off. By Friday morning there had been flyers plastered all over town with the simple drawing of a closed eye with the words ‘Esmeralda. Two nights only at the Mystery Shack.’ And apparently, somehow everyone in town had heard the whispers about a real live gypsy that could talk to the dead by noon (he had a theory that Billie had somehow gotten Wendy to help her spread the word but once again couldn’t prove it). By Friday night there was a deceptively large tent set up around the totem pole that looked like it had come out of some storybook. It would have been impressive if he didn’t feel the impending loss breathing down his neck. His one hope was that she wouldn't be able to pull off the act; after all, she had become someone the locals recognized by now so they surely wouldn't buy it when they saw her. That was until he’d come downstairs Saturday morning to find a gypsy woman sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee. Her skin held an olive tint, her eyes a rich deep brown, and her curly black mane was held away from her face by a scarf. She wore a frilled white shirt that hung off one shoulder and a skirt made up of layers of gauzy material in a rainbow of colors with a coin skirt hung low on her hips. Bangles crowded her wrists and a few on her ankle making her every movement musical. Staring at her she flashed him a bright grin. “Good morning Mr. Mystery I’m Esmeralda and I speak to the other side,” she greeted him in an accent that was European but not too strong. Staring at her it took him a minute to realize that she was his daughter. What gave it away was the bandage on her left hand, it was neatly wrapped and wouldn't be worth much note if he didn’t see the slight bump where her extra finger was folded across her palm to hide it. Shaking his head he stared open mouth at her, she looked like a cliche and it was brilliant. The tourist would eat it up. “How?” he demanded his voice cracking in indignant awe causing her to chuckle. “Lots of foundation, contacts, and years of practicing a dozen accents,” she told him smugly in that outrageous but somehow totally believable accent, “You can always admit defeat now Stan and I will only demand one of my dinners,” she offered. “No way toots. You never call a fight early,” he replied and she shrugged as she took another sip of her coffee. Arrogance rolled off her and he let out a low grumble, while he could appreciate her confidence speaking to the dead was a tall order. He opened his mouth to say something to her when Wendy's voice came from the gift shop. "Stan a tour bus just pulled up!" Glancing at 'Esmeralda' she flashed a wicked smile as she stood in a rattle of bangles and rolled her shoulders. Looking him up and down she couldn't help the smirk that pulled at her lips. "May the best con win, " she laughed resting all her weight in on hip as she stretched. Stan couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter that rose in him as a competitive fire lit in him. "Age and treachery with overcome youth and exuberance every time, " he reminded her and she shrugged as she moved to slip out the back door. Watching her go he shook his head getting his cane and flipping his eye patch down, he had to admit having some competition was making the day a bit more exciting. The next 10 hours were a whirlwind of activity as a flood of tourists poured through. He spun his stories with a flare he hadn't felt in years as Esmeralda flittered about. He had to admit that she was good; adding some rustic flare to his stories telling of sighting of the Cat-a-peid in the 'old country' and backing up the claim that the magic crystal they sold were steeped in the mystical energy of the forest. Between the two of them, they managed to create a fevered excitement in the visitors who all but threw their money at Wendy. But even as he reveled in what were surely record profits he couldn't help but notice that all of Billie's help was a double-edged sword. Even as she hyped his attractions she filtered about reading palms and offering charms that she made appear from her skirt. Shiny rocks and crudely carved figures on a bit of string, things he recognized from the bulk supply warehouse he bought his own junk from. A ten here and a twenty there that she slipped away with a smile and an offer to come see her tonight as the spirts had many messages and perhaps one was for them. And he finally got to see her speak to the dead, at least that was what it looked like. Gravitating to a cluster of tourists she placed a hand on her temple as she closed her eyes. Letting out a humming sound she peered up at the curious group. "There is a woman. Older, matronly who wishes to speak to one of you. Some connection with the letter T, " she said softly as she hummed again pausing for dramatic effect, "A name or hobbies maybe. Teresa. Or Teapots. Or Tammy. Or trains...tarting. Tabatha, maybe. I'm sorry it's hard to hear her. Her voice is a soft one but warm like..., " he began only to have one if the men, a middle-aged guy speak up suddenly. "Thelma?" he asked suddenly, "My Mema was named Thelma, " he said excitedly and a murmur went through the crowd. Billie smiled softly as though listening to someone speak before nodding. "Yes, Thelma. She passed suddenly, but not unexpectedly right, " she told him and he nodded his face pinching ever so slightly with emotion. "In her sleep, but she was 98," he supplied and Billie smiled gently as she nodded. "She wants you to know that it was painless and she is at peace, " she told him kindly as she shifted as though leaning closer to someone to hear, "She says that you're worrying over something financial. A promotion or payment of some sort. You are concerned that it won't happen, that it keeps you up at night. You are sleeping and it worries her. Do you know what she's talking about?" she asked and he nodded silently the crowd around him starting in wonder. "Ye...yea. I know what she's talking about, " he choked and Billie nodded sympathetically, "She says that you don't need to worry. That it will all work itself out. She says to tell you to have faith, that God wouldn't have you face a trial you could not handle, " she said her eyes flattering closed once more, "She says she loves you and that you need to read for your own health." For a moment silence hung in the air before the man moved forward and threw his arms around Billie thanking her. Around them, the crowd had tripled in size and an excited clamor rose from them all talking at once. It was amazing and a total sham. He'd seen this sort of psychic before, they were all over daytime TV. And while he had no idea how they did it he knew in his bones they were fakes. But even so, the audiences ate it up including the one now swarming around Billie. "Oh she's good, " he growled as he stood watching her work the crowd telling them that she would speak to the spirits tonight and they were welcome to come, no latter than 7 and cash only for her small admission fee. She only asked 20 dollars so she could continue her travels. And every single one ate it up like starving men. She smiled at just the right moments and spoke just the right word. And that when it hit him. This wasn't her first time pulling this con. She was poised and practiced like she did this every day. This was an old hand to her, a well-practiced grift not some idea she"d randomly thrown out. He'd assumed she was just winging it, she was a PI not a psychic. At least she was now. Just like he was Mr. Mystery now. But before that, he'd been a lot of other things. And it appeared before being a PI Bill had been other things as well. In that moment he realized that he'd been played, that he'd assumed she'd been bluffing without knowing her tells. She was a con artist just like him, and he should have known. Betting against her was a fools errand, and not just when it came to daytime talk shows. She was his daughter after all, and it seemed some of his talents had passed on.

~*~

Billie sighed as she she leaned against the support of the porch, a cigarette in one hand and a can of Pitt cola in the other. She felt like a whole new person after a hot shower to wash off the ton of bronzer and foundation she’d used to make her pale skin darker. It was nice to be out of that stupid heavy skirt and back in sweats and a t-shirt. Pre-dawn just started to brush the sky above the trees with thin lines of pinks and oranges the trees shadows stretched out like fingers of darkness trying to resist the coming day. It got light so early up here it made her feel like it was later (or earlier) then 3:30 in the morning. It really was beautiful though, like a Rob Boss painting. She had to admit when she’d first rolled into the little Organ town the year before she had found the picture perfect place a bit unsettling. It had been the plan to show up meet Stan and never look back, after all she’d never thought he would want anything to do with his brother’s vagabond daughter. Guess that’s what she got for thinking. It turned out her uncle seemed to want something to do with her after all, and surprisingly she wanted something to do with him.

After her research she had expected to find a cold logical man who had no room for sentimentality. While she knew scientific papers were written specifically lacking any emotion his had seemed extra sterile. Even the forwards to the where normally the researcher had some kind of tone had been devoid of anything to give her a glimpse of personality. But instead she had found a man who was the furthest thing from a cold clinical researcher. He was warm in a gruff kind of way and she liked it. It occurred to her that the time line of his published works ending and the Murder Shack coming into being seemed to overlap with Stanley’s death. Perhaps, the sudden change in profession had also been a sudden change in personality, grief was a powerful thing after all.

Or perhaps he’d simply decided that this strange little corner of the world was too wonderful to waste with his head buried in in books. And it was wonderful. And weird. Over her first few visits she’d began noticing strange shadows and odd movement in the trees. And while she’d written off the little men she’d seen rummaging in the diner’s dumpster and the Moth Man she’d seen batting at a street light outside the hotel one night to tricks of the mind and the local legends getting to her, she’d quickly realized there was something inherently odd to the place. Not bad just odd. But once she’d come down one morning to find Stan luring a walking camp fire out from under the porch with marshmallows she’d realized it wasn’t in her head. Instead she had decided that she rather liked this place, after all she was an odd person so she didn’t feel so out of place. It was like she could breath freely in this strange little town with her eccentric uncle.

Her uncle, that was still a strange thought. Billie had never really had a family, her mother had always been too busy being a drunken whore druggie to be anything else. And while she technically had four older siblings they’d all been to busy finding their own way to survive to bother with anything as trivial as bonding. Hell, after she’d been taken into state custody she hadn’t seen any of them for years, a few she still hadn’t seen even after all these years. It had always been her, she’d learned early to never depend on anyone else. Survival was the end game and others had always been passing acquaintances to her. But for some reason she kept coming back here, kept calling to check in on Stan. Perhaps, it was that he never asked any questions or judged her for smoking and drinking. Or maybe it was that she knew that the tired eyes and world weary voice she had was a mirror of his. Not that it mattered, she had come to really appreciate the time she spent with the old con.

It was a nice change of pace. Most people seemed to think that being a PI was like the movies; chasing down leads, sneaking around to get photos, and all that, but it wasn’t. While sure it had its exciting moments (especially when it came to some of her less than reputable clients) it was a lot of time sitting around and waiting for someone to show up. It was digging through mountains of trash and public records to find a lead. It was asking a lot of questions that never got answered to people who didn’t want to talk to you. Over all it was exhausting in more ways then one. She’d always spent her time between jobs partying or holed up in a hotel room getting stoned and sleeping, but now she found coming here to be a much better past time.

There was always some new creation Stan was working on or some project to help Soos with. She had found walks in the woods were eventful as she seemed to run across odd little creatures and weird rocks no matter what direction she went. Even when it was boring around the Shack she at least had company. And Stan sure made for interesting company. He was always ready to snipe at each other or make stupid bets over anything. Heck, the last two days had been the most fun she’d had in years. She had enjoyed watching the old con slowly realized that this wasn’t her first rodeo, though, she knew she had shown her hand and he wouldn’t fall for it again.

Then again even she was surprised she’d pulled it off. While the gypsy shtick had been something she’d acquired as a teenager the rest had been dumb luck. She was constantly surprised that for such a nowhere town Gravity Falls seemed to have everything. 24 hour copy shop to make the flyer? Yup, Shenkos beside the mall. Party rental shop with a thematically appropriate tent? You bet. Costume shop? Yup. Local teenagers willing to spread rumors and wield social media like a finely honed weapon for $20 bucks? Well, everywhere had those but Wendy was a sweet kid who seemed more then willing to recruit help. It just went to show that helping the kid ditch work a few times had been a good idea. Still, some how it had all come together and she’d been able to back up her cocky words. Even with the expenses she’d pull in over a grand in a weekend beating Stan by a hundred buck and some change.

So she’d won, though, since she had told Stan to keep it since it was his customers to begin with she had basically bought herself two dinners and some expenses but useless bragging rights. In truth, she didn’t need the money, she got paid well for her work and had nothing to spend it one. She didn’t pay rent since she refused to settle, and aside from weekly hotels, food, and smokes she didn’t buy anything really. So she had a huge bank account that she just let sit for when she decided to retire. Plus, she’d liked the idea of helping Stan out, if in no other way then sticking it in Bud’s face. How dare he call Stan a fraud when he sold junk cars at astronomical prices? A small self aware part of her knew that she had done it because she cared about the old man, but she just ignored it.

Shaking her head she snorted, she had to be tired to be getting all introspective and squishy. Feelings weren’t her bag, she’d just done it for fun. At least that was what she told herself. Shifting slightly she groaned, her body felt heavy and her eyes kept trying to close. She was exhausted two days and nights of putting on a show took a lot out of a woman. Not to mention, she’d had to strike the tent after last night’s performance so the rental company could pick it up first thing, and of course she and Stan had sat up counting out their respective earnings. Stad had recounted hers twice growling she’d padded them, before finally admitting defeat. The look on his face had been worth it.

“Alright kid, how’d you do it?” came a gruff voice and the smell of cigar smoke pulling her eyes from the trees. Looking over at him she flashed a smile earning a half hearted scowl in response and a dismissive grunt, “Come on out with it. It’s only fair I know how I got beat.” Smirking she let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“It’s called cold reading,” she told him causing one of his eyebrows to shoot up in question, “You size up a crowd; age, clothes, general stuff you know. Then you throw out a line; something vague enough to not be a definitive statement but specific enough to be convincing. One you get a bite you reel them in, double talk so they tell you everything but it seems like you told it to them and bam you talked to their dead aunt,” she explained as she took a drink.

“Sounds like it would be easier to actually talk to the dead,” he grumbled, “Yur Grandmother would be proud. So where on earth did you learn to pull that off? It doesn’t seem like somethin’ you’d learn for a party trick,” he observed as he took a long puff off his cigar groaning as he settled back on the couch. Shrugging she sighed as she moved over to sit next to him staring out at the dark woods tucking one leg under her.

“When I was round about 16 I ran off from the group home. I was tired of being passed around homes like a fruit cake at Christmas yuh know. So I landed at a traveling fair after a while and met the Amazin’ Jezabel. She pulled the same gimmick and taught me how since my weird hand gav’ ah bit of a witchy vibe. I traveled with them for a year or two, ‘fore getting sick of making her a ton of money and gettin’ hog spit in return. I went out on my own and was good at it,” she told him cracking her neck a touch of melancholy settling over her as she recalled the days she spent running the con at fairs all over the south, “I probably could have gone on with it, got one of those shows on TV, but after a while people started coming to me looking for real answers. Sure, stuff like this weekend is fine. Tellin’ people that their grandma loves them or their dog is always hangin’ around them don’t hurt nothin’ It makes them happy, but when you have people comin’ to yuh lookin’ for their missing kid offering their life’s savin’s for answers it changes the game. I couldn’t bring mah’self ta lie to them. I didn’t want to give ‘em false hope so I quit. I was tryin’ to feed myself not cheat desperate people, yuh know?” she finished before calming up. She hadn’t needed to say all that, and it kinda broke the unspoken agreement they had to avoid anything too honest about themselves.

Glancing over she expected to find him either half listening to her ramble on or looking at her with the inscrutable look of mild disappointment he got when she came in half cocked with a split lip from brawling with the guys at the Skull Fracture. Instead his brows were furrowed and the corner of his lips pulled down in a half frown. It wasn’t that he looked disgusted at her words more…saddened by them. For a long moment they just stared at each other before he looked away taking a drink of his own soda.

“What?” she asked finally ignoring the slight feeling of insecurity that his silence had brought on.

“Nothin’. I was just thinking about your Dad,” he said his voice slightly rougher then normal, “That’s impressive though. You got any other tricks up your sleeve?”

“Naw, nothing worth noting,” she said as she looked away from him resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and leaning her head on it. For a moment they were silent, sitting there smoking before her eyes slid over to him again.

“What about him?” she asked unable to stop herself. While she excepted that Stanley was gone, and he seemed to be a subject Stanford didn’t seem keen on she couldn’t help but wonder about Stanley. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes knowing what she was asking at once. For a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer before he shrugged.

“Nothin’ really. Just that you’re a lot like him. He may have been a cheat and a liar but he never preyed on desperate people. He’d probably be proud of you for that,” he said as Billie barely suppressed the pleased smile that threatened to surface at his words, “Though if he’d have known about you’d you could bet you wouldn’t have even been in a position to have to decided who were acceptable marks,” he added under his breath like he was speaking to himself not her. Smiling she looked back out at the trees.

“Yeah well if that were the case I wouldn’t have been able to get some free meals and braggin’ right now would I?” she chuckled to break the heavy silence that had settled on them and she saw his lips twitch from the corner of her eye.

“Yeah, yeah live it up kid. You cheated and you know it. That was dirty trick, I wouldn’t have made that bet if I’d have know you were a professional psychic,” he grumbled and she chuckled as she finished her drink and stood stretching.

“I’m goin’ ta bed. I’m beat,” she announced with a small yawn, “You should get some sleep too, Stan yuh look like hell,” she added glancing down at him causing him to chuckle.

“You ain’t the boss ah me kid,” he grumbled as she couldn’t help the stern look that crossed her face causing him to laugh, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll finish then and head to bed,” he assured her waving his hand at her. Smiling she yawned again as she headed in.

“Night Stanford.”

“Night Billie.”

#gravity falls #stan pines #Stanley Pines #billie pines #lost pines daughter #gf #au gravity falls #the apple doesnt fall far #AO3 #gravity falls fanfiction #screaming pointlessly into the void #Mystery Shack #tent of telepahy #pines family #pines family bonding #ugh I suck at hashtags

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 5 years

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Keep Your Eyes On Me Part 4

Aaaahhhh, I’m leaving for vacation tomorrow morning but I COULD NOT LEAVE BEFORE I GAVE YOU PART 4. I’m not cruel. because I’ll be on vaca for a week and will be with family and cant take my laptop. So in case you missed it, here’s Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and now Part 4. WHERE THE ANGST STARTS. Enjoy. Thank you to @waiting4inspiration for hosting this 2k follower challenge, they’re amazing and their viking works have SO INSPIRED MY OWN.

Part 4

You didn’t leave your house for a couple of days after that and your life became- sex, eating, sleeping, bathing and caring for Dyre. And you were so happy to have your life so simple for a while before you remembered that you would still probably have to leave him, you hadn’t broken any cardinal rules that were grounds for expulsion yet. You doubted he’d want to leave his world behind for yours. And you weren’t sure you were willing to give up your old life for his, even as great as it was because you knew, in this time, things changed with the wind and that your future here would still be just as uncertain. But then the truth that...he didn’t really love you, started to sting. He loved Astrid, with the long blonde hair and super fair looks and the mother to “his” child. Not Zara, the time traveling, shape shifting, power wielding, super soldier, dragoner assassin. It would break both of your hearts when you would be called back and you had always answered the call. But you couldn’t resist this indulgence. You couldn’t resist him because each kiss was like a drug and you were an addict needing a constant fix.

You went with him as he made his rounds around Kettegat, because Bjorn refused to let you out of his sight, both of you grinning like idiots and sharing more than your fair share of kisses and touches and loving looks. Bjorn’s sister adored you and praised how handsome of a son you gave her brother.

And you didn’t escape Ivar the Boneless’ notice. He looked at Bjorn with barely concealed envy and looked at you with jealousy. He looked at Dyre and something stirred in him. When he looked at Dyre- he felt that that was what his son was supposed to look like and felt even more jealousy and outrage because life was never fair.

Freydis had refused to leave his house and had done nothing but demand where her baby was and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her what he had done. He was still in a crossroads between denial and pure rage that his son was born a monster in his eyes. And to see both of you so happy together as a family, a perfect one in his opinion, made him angry and insanely jealous because that’s what he was supposed to have. He was a god after all. It was owed to him.

You were at home making dinner together, barely able to complete the task because you couldn’t keep your hands off or mouths off of each other because you’d be leaving in only three days which meant you’d have three more days of wedded bliss before there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Bjorn asked as he opened the door to see Ivar’s men.

“You are summoned to the king’s hall for dinner. You and your family.” They informed him and Bjorn had the worst sinking feeling as did you but he had to accept.

“Of course, allow us to get ready. A few moments please.” Bjorn requested before he shut the door.

“Why do I feel like this is a trap?” Bjorn whispered as you both got dressed in some of your finer clothes while you got Dyre dressed in his nice clothes too.

“Because it is, we were supposed to be gone by now, we’ve stayed too late and they’ve noticed me. Bjorn whatever happens, do not reveal that I’m a Valkyrie, if you do, I don’t know what will happen and I’m scared they’ll hurt you or you and Dyre or even your sister and her family to get whatever they imagine I have. Here, wear this. If anything bad happens, you press this to your chest and dragon armor will emerge from this and cover and protect you. Dyre is already wearing one too. Press it and a cocoon will wrap around him and it will save him from everything they could ever throw at him. Don’t worry about me, I’m not going into the lion’s den without teeth of my own.” You whispered as you put a dragon scale necklace around his neck and pointed out the one that Dyre had on his own necklace as you geared up in your own armor and hit a button so that it and your dragon toothed weapons turned invisible over your clothes.

“For now, stick to the story we’ve told everyone else and just...follow my lead and if we live through dinner. We’re leaving as soon as humanly possible.” You hissed.

“Agreed.” Bjorn nodded as he picked up Dyre and took your hand and squeezed it tightly before he left his house, you putting a special code so that the house would appear normal for anyone who looked inside just in case Ivar's men decided to snoop.

You both did your best to appear as much as ease as possible but Ivar could sense the tension radiating off of both of you and now when he looked at you, he wondered that if he made a child with you, if it would still turn out like him. Or perhaps you would give him a son just like Dyre which is what he really wanted.

“So, where are you from Astrid? Your clothes are very unusual.” Ivar asked as you sat down to dinner as Freydis looked you over curiously.

“From down south, it’s on the map Bjorn has shown you.” You answered with as much composure you could muster.

“Come here, show me.” Ivar demanded and gestured for you to come to him before he seemed to pull his copy of the map out and put it on the table next to him which you did which your contacts showed you where you should put the mark that matched up with Bjorn’s raiding tour.

“What is this cloth that you wear?” Ivar asked as he reached out and felt the fabric of your dress after he pet his hand down your side.

“Cashmere, it’s grown off of special goats the way wool grows off of sheep, if you like it my Lord, I can make you garment out of some, I have extra fabric I brought from home.” You offered with a charming smile.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” Ivar grinned smugly.

“No trouble at all, it would be an honor to make a garment for my king and god.” You smiled, you had to play into his ego. “Just tell me what colors would please you best my lord.” You proposed.

“He likes black.” Freydis said from the other end of the table, hating the way her husband was looking at you and touching you as jealous bile rose in her own throat, he was looking to replace her.

“And you my Lady? I have enough I can make something for you as well. How could I not do for the queen of Kettegat what I would do for it’s king?” You returned.

“If you would permit me to leave your side so that your wife can feel the fabric of my dress?” You proposed to Ivar who nodded but that didn’t stop him from moving his hand to your ass and giving it a squeeze through the fabric which both terrified you and filled you with rage but you couldn’t take his hand off for it. Bjorn was also feeling the same emotions you were as you heard each other both tell each other and yourselves ‘don’t react, don’t react, just ignore it.’ But Bjorn had to bite his lips from smiling when he saw your imagination give you a short fantasy of killing Ivar where he sat as you walked over to Freydis.

‘You saw that right?’ You mouthed to her which she smiled apologetically at you. ‘What do I do?’ You mouthed next before she put you in front of her to feel the fabric of your dress and look at the details, the nature of your cloaking device meant she could put her hands through what was cloaked to feel the fabrics of what was wrapped around your waist.

‘Nothing, don’t worry’ she mouthed before she smiled reassuringly at you which made you smile in relief before you both discussed the dress and what details she would want.

“Well since you’ll be busy doing these favors for us Astrid and since you Bjorn will be going on an expedition to start a new outpost that will surely grow into a colony in the south east and that can be so treacherous and dangerous for such a beautiful woman as Astrid is and with as precious Dyre is, I absolutely insist that you leave Astrid and Dyre here with us while you do so and you can come back for them when the trading outpost is set up and stable along with the outposts first tribute to me. I can assure you no harm will come to either of them until you return. Surely you can not expect Astrid to survive in the wilderness with a newborn, it would spell death for both of them. And they are so precious after all.” Ivar suggested to Bjorn who clutched Dyre to his chest as possessiveness swirled in his chest as he considered if he could face off against Ivar in one on one combat while also trying to find a way to use words to keep that from happening to begin with. You just had to survive the next three days. Three days and you’d all be out of here.

“My Lord, surely you must understand that I know my wife well, I know she is up to the task.” Bjorn very carefully tried to argue.

“She may be but you can not trust the men in your party to keep their hands off of her and you need them to do what they do in order to set up a functioning outpost. She does not look like she is quite strong enough to defend herself - especially if she is outnumbered so because I am King and god here, I can guarantee you that once I give the word, no one would ever dare harm a hair on her head or your son if she is in my house. I am the only one who can offer this protection and because we are such good friends and you have been so faithful to me all this time. I must offer this and you must accept.” Ivar insisted and you knew there would be no other way. You could protect yourself. You could even protect Dyre. But in order to protect Bjorn, he had to agree to this but your link with him you knew he was thinking of a thousand and one excuses and was ready to fight his way out of this. You knew none of you would make it so you had to say something, do something.

“Of course my Lord. I count myself very lucky to have found favor in your eyes. I thank you a thousand times over for the honor of your protection and I pray my husband will take full advantage of this offer from you, surely because he will not have to worry about me as long as I am in your care, his burden is lightened and he will be able to carry out your will better without the restrictions of my company may have.” You offered as you quickly walked back over to Ivar and kneeled and bowed your head and squeezed your eyes as tight as you could as you fought tears.

“Thank you my Lord.” You offered as the tears came to your eyes anyway as he offered you his hand and you took it and kissed his knuckles firmly.

“Excellent, you should go home and pack, in order to protect you best, you must move here with me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, I will be here tomorrow my Lord.” You answered. “Permit me to go home and pack then.” You pleaded before he gestured for you to leave.

“I will see you tomorrow as well my queen.” You bid her as you shared a meaningful look, both of you knowing exactly what was happening next.

Once you were gone Freydis glared at Ivar before she got up and went to bed before she said something that was liable to get her face slapped or her throat choked.

Once back at home you took Dyre back from Bjorn who was furious with you.

“If you need to hit something, hit that.” you pointed to the pillows on the bed as you sat in a chair and closed the ‘curtain’ between your tent and his house so that it closed your tent off and sound proofed the space before Bjorn punched the shit out of the pillows on your now shared bed before he picked one up and screamed into it as you started crying while you nursed Dyre.

“Why did you agree?!” Bjorn demanded with hot tears in his eyes as he threw the pillow down onto the bed and turned to face you.

“Because it was the only way we all live through this. I can’t chance Ivar killing you over me. If he abandoned him in a forest, he’s not above killing whoever he sees as a threat or in the way of what he wants and he wants me, he wants me to bear him a son, a perfect one. I’ll try to hold off his advances as long as I can until you are safe and so far away that he can’t reach you. You know your path Bjorn, walk in it. Once you do and you’re safe, I’ll find a way to fake my death or do whatever I have to do to get the hell out of here and I will come to you. But you have to take your sister and her family with you. Because otherwise Ivar might kill them out of spite or revenge or sacrifice them.” You implored.

“But leaving you behind is like taking my heart out of my chest and expecting me to live without it. I can’t leave you I love you!” Bjorn said as he slammed his fists down on the arm rests of the chair you were sitting in before he grabbed them so hard his knuckles turned white.

“You love me? You don’t even know me Bjorn!” You sobbed as you hung your head.

“Bjorn, I’ve told you half truths since the moment I met you. I needed to earn your trust as fast as possible. You named me Astrid. That’s not even my real name!” You argued. “This isn’t even my real face or my real hair and I don’t even speak the language you do.” You revealed as you pulled the hairband off your head and revealed your sapphire blue hair before you revealed the universal translator before you peeled off your face mask and revealed yourself to him as he stood up and stared at you in a mix of surprise and horror.

“My name is Zara Fallulah, I’m not even a Valkyrie. I’m a High Lady of Sephira, who is a being who is out to fix all of history’s mistakes and build the perfect future by fixing the past. I’m one of thousands and I’m not from Asgard, I’m from here, I’m just from the here in the future, three thousand years in the future. I haven’t even been born yet. I’m sorry but you fell in love with a lie. But that didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. And I love you too much to let anything happen to you or your family who has no business getting caught up in this and so in order to fulfill my assignment which was to deliver you to your destiny and my own desire to simply have you keep living and be as safe as I can make you- I will stay here until you do. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself and I can take care of Dyre. But even I have limitations. In order to deliver you from an early death at Ivar’s hands, you have to leave me here. Getting Dyre home won’t be an issue but I can’t be with you as long as Ivar lives because if he’s not after you- he’s after your family and that’s too high of a price for my own freedom. So go, take your sister and her family. Get everyone out of here as quickly as you can and get as far away from here that you can and out of Ivar’s reach. I know you’re furious with me. I’m furious with myself because I’ve never had soft spots before but you are my soft spot and Ivar is squeezing it.” You cried. “So because this is my last night here as you wife. Let’s make the most of it.” You suggested just as Dyre fell asleep before Bjorn took him and put him in his bassinette as you stood up then he all out attacked your mouth with his and kissed you so fiercely it hurt but it hurt so good.

He almost ripped your clothes apart ripping them off of you and practically threw you onto the bed before he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand and groped you roughly with the other as he entered you roughly, making your body writhe under him while your eyes pleaded with him as you could feel your milk leaking from your nipples and dripped down your ribcage which Bjorn licked up before he bit your breast in retaliation before he fisted his hand in your hair.

“No more lies, when I ask you something, you’ll tell me the whole truth.” He growled as you nodded in agreement.

“Why is your hair blue?” Bjorn demanded as he laid over you and caged you in with his body as his hips started up a rough and hard rhythm.

“It’s a sign of respect towards Sephira, her hair is naturally blue, most of the Ladies in the order color their hair blue in solidarity, my hair is naturally brown in color.” You answered.

“Why did you hide yourself from me?” He demanded next as you grabbed your face and squeezed your jaw firmly.

“The mask helps change our appearance so that we’re more visually pleasing to our marks. You’re Norse, you believe fair skin and blonde hair are the ultimate standards of beauty. You expect Odin and his family to be the same way and you expect a Valkyrie to also be that way. It’s how we get you to like us and trust us as quickly as you do, by telling you were part of the same supernatural belief system you believe in, Valkyrie, Angel, same thing- humans are always drawn to the epitome of what they consider beautiful.” You answered with a pained expression.

“Are you really a dragoner?” He asked.

“Yes, that part is true, we mix the truth in with the lies so you’ll believe the whole as truth. My parents names are Ziri and Izik, my sister’s name is Sasha, my brothers' names are Ryker and Ryzen, they’re twins. We are nobility and have an estate outside the capitol where we house over 300 dragons. We supply Sephira and her order with all the dragon silk and dragon wool they wants along with supplying her and the order with all their dragons, she recruited me to be a Lady of hers when I was 15. I have been one of her best students so far and I know over 100 fighting disciplines. Which means I can do this.” You answered as you used close quarters combat to get out of his hold and flip him onto his back but still remained joined. “I am never a victim. Part of my training is to let dangerous people feel they have the upper hand and use it to emotionally manipulate them into doing what I want.” You revealed as you continued to ride him.

“Is that what you’ve done to me? Just emotionally manipulated me? You don’t really love me either do you?” Bjorn sneered but still pushed his pelvis up into yours.

“I did in the beginning. But the moment we came back to regroup with the others I’ve done it less and less and yes I do really love you. I have been doing this for decades, I have saved millions of lives but I have also killed thousands of people. And yet you, I can’t...I can’t explain why I love you, nor can I deny it. Because you’re the only one who has been allowed to play inside my head and see my memories of my childhood, of my family. No other has ever had the privilege and when you leave me here, the link will still be just as strong as it is now and it’s how I’m going to constantly tell you that I love and that I’m ok and that our son is ok. I’m already breaking my code for you which is something I have never done before. You’re not supposed to have dragon armor, it’s forbidden for me to share it with anyone but my family and the order. But here you have it. You’re not supposed to know about Neveah, let alone be able to see it, yet you have through my own mind's eye. I’m not even supposed to have sex with you but we can’t stop that either and I shouldn’t be able to concieve because of all the powers Sephira has given me is supposed to take away my own fertility but yet, I’m carrying your child and that’s not supposed to happen, ever.” You informed him as you let him sit up as he stared at you in awed wonder, his anger melting in an instant and then carefully put his hand to your belly.

“You’re pregnant...with my…?” He asked as his heart seemed to come back together again.

“Yes and even if Sephira unravels me, she can’t unravel you or our son, or this. So I’m yours, if you still want me.” You offered.

“Hell yeah,” He agreed as he wrapped you in his embrace and kissed you earnestly before he flipped yogo, go to your path and walk in it so I can hurry up and finish this mission and even if Ivar u back over so you were under him once more.

“So decides to light this world on fire- I’ll get your sister and her family somewhere safe and take you to Neveah with me if I have to and Sephira will have to just deal with me retiring early. I can’t really work pregnant anyway.” You revealed. “If you want to go to Neveah that is.” you added.

“We’ll see what happens.” Bjorn decided.

“Ok.” You agreed before he kissed you much sweeter as he made love to you as sweetly as he could, savoring your taste and rememorizing you all over again. You both clung to each other for dear life and made love so many times you lost count before you both collapsed.

When you woke up, you methodically went through everything you had and gave him half of it including half of your dragon toothed knives and swords, which was another cardinal rule you were breaking. But you wanted him to be as taken care of as possible even if you couldn't do so personally. You made love one last time before Ivar's men came for you and you put your disguise back on. You took your tent down and his house returned to its original form. You left with Ivar's men to Ivar's house and Bjorn could do nothing but hang his head in defeat and cry as he looked around and realized, this house stopped being home a long time ago. All he could see was its flaws and it felt cold and dark and just…wrong. It was all wrong because you weren’t in it with him.

Moving into Ivar's house was easier than it should have been, he gave you a room right next to his room that he shared with Freydis, but you felt the hostility rolling off of Freydis. But it wasn’t directed at you. It was at Ivar. She couldn't fault you for giving into the pressure her husband put on you. She just wished her husband had loved his own son as much as he seemed to love yours. Now that you were here Ivar seemed infatuated with your son and had him in his arms whenever possible as he cooed to him which freed you up to actually sew the garments you promised as you kept looking up and over at them every so often and smiling softly at the scene.

In record time Bjorn got everyone and everything together doing so in two and you all met back up at the docks as the boats were being loaded. But Ivar frowned when he saw Bjorn's sister and her family going down the docks to be loaded.

"Bjorn, this was not what was agreed upon, your sister and her family are not on the list." Ivar began to argue before you went to Ivar's side.

"What would it take my Lord for you to let them go? What price might I pay for them to be free to go?" You asked in a hushed voice as you looked imploringly at him before he looked back at you with a wolfish grin.

"What are you offering?" He asked curiously.

"I will divorce my husband here and now and you can have me as a second wife or thrall or slave or whatever you would want, provided that no harm will ever come to Dyre, Bjorn or his family. I'm in my conceive period, if a son just as fair as Dyre is what you want by me, I can give you that. By the time I give birth Bjorn will be too far away to do anything and by the time he hears that I bore you a child, he will never return to claim me because there will be nothing to claim because I will be joined to you until death itself would pull me apart from you but he will still deliver you tribute. I will trade you my own life and freedom and all the children you would want from me if you'll let Bjorn's sister and her family go and swear that you or any of those who are with you will ever harm them." You swore as Ivar grinned triumphantly.

"Go, tell him now." Ivar bid you before you nodded and walked down the plank, mentally warned Bjorn who sighed in defeat as he looked at you, his eyes still pleading with you not to do this.

But you had no choice. This was the only way.

“Bjorn...I...I am divorcing you.” You managed to say, ignoring his sister who looked at you vehemently while everyone’s jaws dropped to the floor.

“I’m leaving you for Ivar. And only death will separate me from him.” You announced.

“May you have fair winds and find success on your travels.” You bid him before you let him say goodbye to his son before you said your goodbyes, mentally swearing that you were going to fake your death as soon as possible and that hopefully when he finally came to where he was supposed to be that you would meet him there which he agreed on and accepted it before you walked back to Ivar.

“Satisfied?” You asked once you returned to his side.

“For now,” Ivar agreed before you turned around from the docks and accompanied Ivar back to his home.

#Vikings #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless #Vikings OC #History Vikings #Keep Your Eyes On Me #Keep your eyes on me part 4 #vikings crossover

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