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letstalkaboutshtufff · 1 month

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Not Weak

Highschool Gojo x reader classmate

Pairing: Gojo x reader (this can be seen as romantic or platonic since I didn’t really specify. I do like platonic friendship stories a lot tho)

Summary: You are trying your very hardest to catch up to your classmates and not get left behind.

Warnings: language, mentions of a little blood, fainting kinda

Hope you guys enjoy!

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Pathetic. There was really no other way to put it. Truly and utterly pathetic was what you were. All this training and yet you could barely summon any energy.

At this rate you’d only be able to defeat a raccoon.

“Ugh why can’t I do it…” you slump down on the tree, the target in front of you barely scratched.

You were a first year like your classmates, Gojo, Geto and Shoko but for some reason they were all improving and you were still stuck in the same place like a fly in mud. Your family had a technique, ice manipulation (excuse me while I make things up) but for some reason you were the only person who wasn’t an instant prodigy. It was extremely discouraging, especially when Gojo and Geto were so strong already.

“Hey snowflake, you’re getting better, almost felt a little chill there for a second”

“Gojo… did you come here just to make fun of me?”

“Aw cmon I wouldn’t do that, just wanted to see what you were up to, you weren’t at breakfast.”

“Just training… I’m close to a breakthrough I can feel it”

“Well do us all a favor and figure it out soon because this heat has been killing me- would love a personal air conditioner”

“You threw a rock aimed at his head which of course bounced off thanks to his new trick, infinity.”

“Rude” you just rolled your eyes and moved to stand again, ready to try again.

“Satoru stop picking on y/n” Geto emerged from the trees.

“Huh? I’m not picking on her, if anything she’s bullying me!”

“Yeah like that’s believable…” Shoko popped out behind Geto. Cigarette hanging from her lips.

“Great you’re all here…” you mumbled. Now you can all witness my patheticness…

“We didn’t see you all day, we got worried” shoko ever the sweet one looked at you concerned.

“Well I’m fine” you said with a bit more bite than you meant to.

“Ooh someone’s in a mood”

“Leave her alone Gojo she’s working hard unlike you”

“Why you little-“

“It’s not exactly a lie though is it”

“You to suguru?!? I thought you guys were my friends!”

During their little scuffle you snuck away. Your mind on one thing and one thing only. Getting your damn technique to work.

Once you were far enough away you positioned yourself towards a large boulder.

Ok breathe in

Breathe out

Focus

You raised your hand towards the boulder.

Focus

Prickles travelled up your arm towards your hand.

Ok now build the energy in the palm

Hold it

Don’t lose it come on!

Focus!

You trembled trying to control the energy

“FUCK” you felt your body jerk heavily and the energy disappear completely, like it did every damn time before you could even send it out.

You doubled over breathing heavily.

Why?! Why couldn’t you do it!? Were you always going to be this weak??? No, no you couldn’t… if you did they’d leave you behind… you couldn’t be left behind….

Again. You had to try again.

“Ok, focus” you repeated this cycle about a hundred more times or so it felt. It was nighttime but you were still at it.

Just……one……more…..time…..

“Urgh” you collapsed onto your hands and knees. Blood droplets coated the grass. You coughed a few more times before continuing your ritual.

Again… one more time…

But this time when you rose you stumbled and fell again.

Pathetic. Come you useless sorcerer get up. Every bone in your body was screaming but you ignored it completely and rose once more.

Focus

Foc-

Suddenly your target boulder blurred and you felt yourself tipping to the side.

“Woah hey, you ok?” Gojo…. What was he doing here. And most importantly why couldn’t you speak.

He held you upright and leaned down to look at your face,

“You look like hell…” his eyes gleamed in the darkness, appraising your sorry state.

“Mmfine” you slurred unconvincing.

“Hm yeah sure you are…” Gojo said sarcastically.

“Come on, let’s go find Shoko.”

“I don’t nee-“ your world spin again and gojo gripped you tighter so you wouldn’t fall.

“You were saying?” He raised an amused brow.

You sighed, there wasn’t really much training you could do when you couldn’t stand…

You nodded half heartedly in Gojos direction. You tried taking a step and stumbled,

“Alright stubborn Bambi up we go”

Ah!?

“Gojo I can walk, let me down!” His long legs easily carried you both across the training field in record time.

“Stop moving or I’ll drop you geez”

“Gojo-“you sighed in defeat. Hating yourself even more for getting dizzy again and being forced to lean your head on his chest.

“Don’t wake shoko… just need sleep…” you whispered but you knew he heard it”

He looked down at you and thought for a moment.

“Uh you sure? You were coughing up blood you know…”

“Mm sure…” you mumbled already halfway to lala land. For trash like him, he sure did smell good…

“Ok fine but in the morning you should at least let her-….aaaaand you’re asleep.” He sighed, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. He frowned a bit at your state. He knew you were trying but some people just weren’t cut out for this line of work. He wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, it was just the truth…

He knew you wouldn’t take that well if he told you that though. Ugh why did things have to be so complicated!?!

****************************************************

The next morning you felt like a hundred bricks were weighing you down.

You groaned as you tried to sit up. Every single part of you ached.

You vaguely remembered last night with Gojo. Heat rose shamefully to your cheeks. How embarrassing it was that he had to carry you and to top it off you fell asleep on him!? How were you going to face him ugh…

It took about a hour for pain meds to kick in enough for you to shower, change and promptly make your way to the training grounds again. You would make sure this time though you wouldn’t push yourself to the point of collapsing.

Ten minutes later you were in front of the same boulder in the same position.

Familiar pinprickles soon formed in your palm

Focus…

Foc-

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Fuck

Your concentration was abruptly broken by the unmistakable voice of your midnight savior.

“training duh” you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you really that eager to fall into my arms again?”

You rolled your eyes and turned towards him,

“That was… well I guess I should be thanking you… sorry for the trouble last night…” you mumbled scratching the back of your neck.

“Mm I’d believe you expect for the fact that you seem eager to repeat last nights fiasco.”

“I’m fine now… I’ll know when I should stop…”

That was a lie, you both knew it.

You turned back to your target hoping that Gojo would leave you alone.

Palm raised up

Focus

Just a bit more…

Almost there…

Ah! Your body jerked like it did every freakin time and you let out a labored breath.

Gojo watched silently from the sidelines

You tried a few more times, your breathing and now coughing getting worse and worse each breath.

Finally when he felt you truly were at your limit again he decided to stop you.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the hand clutching your wrist because honestly you thought he had left awhile ago.

“What ….are you ….doing…?” You asked between heavy breaths.

“You’re gonna pass out if you keep going”

“I won’t… I’m ok really, just a few more then I’ll stop…”

“Yeah no, that’s not happening,”

“Let go, seriously it’s fine, I need to train-“

“When did you become more stubborn than me huh?” You tried pulling but he wouldn’t budge.

“If I let go are you gonna stop?”

“…… yes”

“You’re a horrible liar” he deadpanned.

“Ugh just quit it Gojo! Don’t you have better things to do than babysit me?? Can’t you see I’m trying to train over here??” You were starting to get really annoyed now.

“….” Should he say it? Should he say that maybe you weren’t cut out for this life? That maybe you should quit trying? Could he say it? It would break you he knew but better a broken you than a dead one….

You saw the change in his eyes and gulped suddenly uneasy, “what…?”

“Maybe…. Maybe it’s time to stop…” in his defense, he really was thinking about what’s best for you.

But you on the other hand…

Your eyes were wide as saucers. His words echoed like a deadly bell that sealed your worst nightmare. He said only a few words but you understood the deeper meaning behind them in an instant.

Weak

Pathetic

Useless

He and everyone else knew it

And now you were going to be left behind.

Against your will tears beagn to burn in your eyes.

“Y-You-“ but the words choked in your throat.

“I w-won’t” you whispered, hot tears now streaming down your cheeks while you yanked your hand away from him and he finally let you.

He looked at you with a face you hated more than anything, pity…

“Stop it….” You felt your emotions start to rise.

“Stop looking at me like that! I will get strong! I won’t stop! I can’t stop! So don’t you of all people tell me to stop!”

“Ok, listen I’m sorry, just calm down alright,” he held his hands up trying to calm you but it just make you angrier.

“No- I won’t calm down! You don’t get to come here and tell me I’m weak when I’ve been trying my hardest to get stronger! Not everyone is a prodigy like you Gojo!! But mark my words I’m going to kick your ass one day and make you regret ever underestimating me!!”

“I’m not trying to call you weak-“

“JUST SHUT UP ALREADY, CANT YOU YOU’RE ONLY MAKING THINGS WORSE! JUST GO ALREADY!”

“Y/n-”

“NO-ENOUGH! IM NOT WEAK! IM NOT WEAK IM NOT WEAK!!”

“CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH”

Both you and Gojo froze, eyes wide at the sudden noise. Slowly your heads turned simultaneously to the left where your hand was outstretched, towards the boulder- sorry correction- the pile of very teeny tiny rubble.

Wha??

“Gojo….”

“Y/n….”

You both slowly turned around to each other

Then promptly burst into excited smiles and loud laughter.

“I did it!!!”

“You did it!!!”

“I did it!!!!”

You jumped onto each other hugging and jumping up and down like children.

“See I told you I could do it!!!”

“You did didn’t you!?!!”

“I’m gonna be strong Gojo!! I will!!”

“You’ll be kicking my ass in no time!!”

You both were laughing like crazy people

*******

“Uhhh…. What the hell did we just walk in to….” -Shoko

“I’m not sure I even wanna know….”-Geto

- How I imagine them hugging lol

****************************************************

Hope you guys enjoyed! This was just a quick thing I wrote, was in the mood for some friendship fluff.

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guppieartblog · 3 months

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Short Oneshot South Park fic (TW’s down below before reading)

Hellu friends! I was just sort of lying in bed when this story idea came to mind. While yes, I do love my romance, every once in a while I’m here for the sweet sweet angst/slight mix of horror. I also barely write fanfics but can think of scripts of dialogue for some reason? So that’s the format of this story… oops. Also, the characters can be read as either platonic or romantic, though honestly you shouldn’t be thinking about either for this one, folks.

This is a south park Stan and Kyle short one-shot script dialogue thingy ma jig, and I give you my love right now because in all seriousness, this contains a very dark topic. If you are uncomfortable with what is in the trigger warnings I give below, by all means, DO NOT READ PAST THE MORE LINE. It made me feel a slight panic in my chest just writing this, and I really would hate to have someone go through some dark traumatic memories again. So last warning, it’s about to get real dark, and very uncomfortable.

To the people who are going to read this, I wish you luck, not only for the gruesome topics at hand but also for dealing with my weird mix of both fanfic and theater script dialogue format. I’m also writing this sort of late at night, so if I made some mistakes uh… I’m very sorry. Anyways, this won’t be long, promise.

Stay safe everyone, I love you, and everything will be okay. You got this. Always be sure to ask for help when you need it. <3

-Guppie

TW/ S*icide mentions, graphic g*re mentions, possible derealization(?), anxiety, depression, eyes(?), panic attacks, hyperventilating, mentions of drugs, and finally a weird ass Omori ref I added in for no reason other than I thought it fit .-.

Speechless

Stan: Have you ever thought of killing yourself?

Kyle: …I’m sorry?

Stan: You know, offing yourself. Grab a rope, buy a gun, the end.

Kyle: … *smirks, he thinks it’s a joke* Ah yes, of course. However, I really cannot decide my fate, Stanley. Which method would best accommodate my attitude? *he chuckled*

Stan: *smiles, but it’s forced and dry. Kyle feels like he hears his lips crack.* I’m being serious.

Kyle: *giggles more, and then it slows* …why would you even ask me that?

Stan: *he brushes some of his stray hair back with his hand* You seem different. I can see it in your eyes, the way you smile. God- you’re smoking a pack of cigarettes right next to me on the rooftop of Randy’s barn. You have the biggest eye-bags I’ve ever seen on you.

Kyle: *looks away, suddenly feeling sweat under his collar* “You sure that’s not just because of finals?”

Stan: You haven’t cared about anything this year.

Kyle: …. Stan, if I’m being honest, I- … *he sees Stan’s sad smile and he gulps* I can’t say I’ve been feeling much better than that to be honest..

Stan: … *he takes a hit from his own cigar, eyes dead to the world. That once beautiful sky blue Kyle used to see were now pale in comparison, Stans eyes looked like the mariana trench now. Black. Empty. Devoid of all hope. It’s then his shoulders perk up, but only slightly. He has an idea, Kyle bets.* Let’s do it together, then.

Kyle: *his breath hitches, and suddenly he feels like he’s being pressed into the ground by a boulder* …what..?

Stan: I’m serious. I can figure it out for the both of us and we can just- end it. Together. Like always.

Kyle: …Stan I don’t think we are on the same page here-

Stan: Kyle, I have wanted nothing more than to eliminate my very existence since I was only ten years old. You get how that feels, right?

Kyle: …I-

Stan: whether you are coming with me or not, I’m not going to be here very long. I know it.

Kyle: *he’s full-on sweating now, shaking, panicking* Stan, please- I don’t think this is-

Stan: Kyle.

Kyle: Stan- please let me just-

Stan: Kyle. *he grabs Kyle’s hand, Kyle reflexes and tries to pull his hand back, but Stan doesn’t let him. He puts Kyle’s hand against his own chest.* Do you feel this? This pounding?

Kyle: *he’s breathing heavily, quickly.. it’s getting hard to breathe*

Stan: … Kyle, this- this pounding- it’s all around me now. It’s in my head- it’s- I can feel the ground b r e a t h i n g beneath me. Do you feel it too? Because fuck- Kyle- I need it gone. It’s like the world knows what’s gonna happen. It’s screaming for it. It hurts- it fucking hurts too much. I want to tear out my own organs. Isn’t that just sad? Is that a cynical thing? To want to wipe off every last trace of my existence? Is god a sadist, or am I a masochist? Does he want my blood oozing out, or is that just what they want? All I see nowadays are eyes, Kyle. Like people are watching me- waiting-

Waiting for something to happen?

I can’t take it anymore. Please Kyle- save me- help me…

Kyle: I- you- Stan- *he’s hyperventilating now, vision fuzzy. What’s happening!?* I can’t- bre a th-

Stan: ..Kyle? Kyle!?

Kyle: *everything grows dark as he falls, but Kyle still feels like he’s not alone. He feels the weight of the world crawling on his shoulders. His chest hurts. He looks around, but there’s only silence. What is he doing? Is he going to stop falling? When is he going to hit the ground with a loud crunch?*

…

……

He’s waiting for his end too.

#south park #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #south park oneshot #short story #sadstory #triggerwarning #readtw #angst #horror #south park short fic #south park fanfiction #fanfic

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guiltydumpling · 3 years

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The Guard: Chapter 2

[KUVIRA X READER ROYAL AU]

Summary: “I called you all here to announce that we have a guest arriving sometime later today. Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Elysian” The people in the throne room looked at one another confusingly. “Their palace was under sieged and the king had to send the princess away to keep her safe from any assassination attempts. Their kingdom has done a lot for us and has proven to be great allies for generations. She’s come a long way and has been traveling for a week, I expect nothing less than for all of you to treat her as you do a member of the royal family and to attend to everything and anything, she might ask for… This poor child has already been through too much.” There was silence in the throne room for a while, as they let the information sink in. “Dismissed.”

Word Count: 5.5k

A few weeks pass and you start to slowly ease into life in the Kingdom of Zaofu. It was indeed an adjustment, especially whenever you were invited for meals or walks with the Beifongs. Their majesties had 5 children and because of that, there was never a dull moment whenever you were with them. It was refreshing, especially since you grew up in a rather quiet household with only one sister wich whom you got along with really well, and your father.

You started to have a soft spot for Opal. She reminded you a lot of yourself when you were younger, and she tugs at your heartstrings whenever she would do something so wholesome and so pure. You even witnessed her discover her new ability to air bend and you swear to the spirits that your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. You felt yourself silently rooting for her, wishing that everything goes well for her. Spirits know you would have turned out differently if someone rooted for you too. She just reminded you of the time you actually felt happy, and it pains your heart that it’s been such a long time that you couldn’t remember it yourself.

You were always delighted whenever the twins were around. They were skilled benders and they always seemed to break her majesty’s “no bending in the palace rule” and since they discovered Suyin’s sweet spot for you, they always ask you to cover for them, which you reluctantly do so.

Huan was a peculiar kid, “an artist” Kuvira would say with an underlying tone of mockery. Huan saw a sketch you made of Kuvira in one of the books in their library and you swear it was the first time you have ever seen this guy smile. It warmed your heart that you were the cause of it. Huan told the story of how you had talent one night over dinner and you felt your cheeks heat up when Kuvira raised an eyebrow at you. I like sketching Kuvira, big deal.

Bataar Jr. on the other hand was a different story. You found out that he had been courting Kuvira for a while but was rejected repeatedly. You didn’t know how to feel about it so you simply keep your distance from him, besides, he was the heir to the throne, any interaction you made with him could cause a stir around the palace and start marriage rumors. You did not need unnecessary stress, and you had a feeling that it was a mutual concern.

It was a warm glowing morning and you were eating breakfast in the dining hall with the Beifongs. You sat there quietly as you finished your meal when the twins suddenly burst through the doors in their training gear. “Kuvira!” Wing exclaimed bending a piece of metal disc at great speed towards Kuvira who was posed at the other end of the hall, you were about to tell Kuvira to get out of the way but you stop yourself when you see Kuvira effortlessly dodge the disc with ease and bent it back to the twins at a slower pace as to avoid accidents. You hear Suyin raise her voice slightly at the twins reminding them about the no bending in the palace rule but was yet again ignored by the twins. When Wei caught the disc, he decided to keep it in the bag he was carrying. “Good morning to the both of you too” she responded unphased, perhaps it was a common thing in their mornings? You thought watching the scenario play out “You coming to spar with us?” Wing asked and Kuvira nodded “You go ahead, I’ll catch up” she said

“It’s okay. You can go now if you want to, I’ll finish my breakfast and ask another guard to escort me, I’ll be okay.” You tell Kuvira with a gentle smile and before she could answer, Wei, cuts her off, “You should come by the training grounds and watch us! Metal bending can be even more impressive when used in combat” he suggested. And you thought about it for a moment before accepting the invitation earning a cheer from the twins and a smile from Kuvira who was proud of you for making an effort from keeping yourself from sulking in your room as you did when you first arrived. The three metal benders exit the dining hall and you go back to eating your food. “You would think that as an empress I would get some respect around here. And yet I can’t even get my twins to stop bending in the palace” Suyin huffs at her husband and the emperor simply laughs at his wife’s frustration. You silently do too.

~ ~ ~

You finish your breakfast and Opal offers to keep your company to watch them spar which you appreciated. On the way to the training grounds, Opal was telling you about how excited she was about meeting the Avatar. “The Avatar?” you ask curiously “oh yes! Mom insisted on inviting the Avatar to give me proper training. It’s kind of exciting” you feel your heart warm once more for this girl. She really did remind you of who you used to be. So lively and full of hope dreaming of nothing but to become a bender. Except for this time, she actually became one.

“Will that not require you to go back with the Avatar to the mainland?” Opal thought about it for a moment but immediately shook her head. “No, mom would never let me go” she said with a hint of sadness “do you want to?” You asked, “I don’t think that matters” she answers and you two continue walking in silence. “You know in your heart it does Opal” you say, and Opal simply shrugs. “So, how’s Zaofu been treating you?” she asks in an attempt to change the subject.

“It’s been an interesting adjustment. For starters, I was never invited to watch anyone train before” you answered. “I was always kept indoors and was never permitted to wander the grounds unless necessary.” You continued and Opal furrowed her eyebrows “that must have been so boring” she commented which earned a laugh from you. “A little bit, I admit. But I always focused my energy somewhere else. I learned how to play the piano, draw, cook, and I’ve probably read everything about anything” you say somewhat proudly. “You know how to make the best of what you’ve got then” Opal tells you with a smile.

You reach the training grounds and you were greeted by Wing and Wei calling your attention and you wave your hand to acknowledge them. Your eyes land on Kuvira who was out of her usual armor and you couldn’t help but admire her. She wore a white tank top that clung to her torso showing off her fit figure and her arms really well and you couldn’t help but imagine how muscular the captain must be underneath. Her hair was in its usual bun but this time strands were falling from it, framing her face. Her face. It was flushed, which gave her cheeks a rosy and her lips were pinker than usual. The sunbeams bounced off her skin, and your eyes accidentally land on her heaving chest which was glistening from sweat and you swear to the spirits above you felt something warm in the pit of your stomach. That is inappropriate. You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Opal nudge you to ask if you wanted to take a seat to which you accepted. You took a seat under a gazebo where their bags were placed a few feet away from what was happening in the training grounds. Kuvira locks eyes with you for the first time since you arrived and smiles at you. Shit, there it is again… the warmth. You try to appear composed as you smiled back at her with a wave before they continued with their training.

You were in awe of everything that was happening before you. The twins were like one body as they complemented each other’s combat so perfectly. They used cable wires that were suspended to their waste as an accessory to make their fighting more efficient with a combination of traditional earth bending techniques. Kuvira on the other hand was a different kind of fighter. She moved so fluidly and so gracefully swiftly dodging the boulders that were flying towards her, barely making use of earth but instead of the metal strips, she expertly pulled from her wrists and her belt. It was a technique like you’ve never seen before. By the time the twins were panting to try and catch their breath, Kuvira looked like she was only warmed up. She was sweating a lot but evidently still had energy. Meanwhile, Wing lies down on the ground exhausted from the training and the heat. “Get up Wing! I don’t imagine your highness would simply accept defeat?” Kuvira retorted while bouncing lightly on her toes getting ready for another strike but Wing simply waves her off “How are you not tired yet?!” Wei answers back and Kuvira chuckles “Stamina” she answered.

There it is again… the warmth, but this time you weren’t aware enough to try and hide it because your breath hitched, and Opal noticed. “Are you okay Y/N?” and you simply nod and excused yourself because the heat was starting to get a little too much so she bent a little breeze towards you which to your surprise actually helped. You thanked her and you see the benders walking towards the both of you and you felt the warmth in your stomach again. Shit.

Kuvira sits beside her bag which happened to be across from you and this way you had a full close-up view of her. She took a mini towel from her back and started wiping her sweat off with it and you couldn’t help but follow the movement of the towel that was pressed against her skin. From her forehead to her neck, her chest, her arms, and the way she lifted her tank top to run the towel across her back and stomach just enough to give you a peek of what was under the garment confirming your initial thought of her muscular physique when you were able to catch a glance at her really toned stomach. This caused another surge of warmth in your body and you had to force yourself to look away.

“What kind of physical activities do you do Y/N?” Wing asked you.

“not much since I never had a proper hand in hand combat training but… I’m a pro in archery if I do say so myself” You said with a smile

“Really? But I thought you were discouraged from going outside?” Kuvira asked

“By my father’s advisors yes, father never liked the idea of that and so he would often sneak with me into the throne room at night when the entire court would be asleep and teach me a thing or two about archery until I mastered it eventually” You explained

“Sounds like one hell of a trainer” Wei commented

“He was” you say with a smile and you feel your chest tighten. Spirits I miss him.

“Maybe you can teach us something about archery and we can train you with combat” Kuvira says trying to change the topic when she notices the change in your expression, and you hesitated for a while. Constantly hesitating was starting to become a reflex for you. You were so used to being controlled and told what to do that whenever opportunities would present themselves to you, you couldn’t help but feel like somebody else should take it instead. “I… guess we can arrange something like that” you say a little slowly unconsciously anticipating someone to interject. But nobody did. How refreshing you thought

~ ~ ~

Later in the day, you were quietly sitting in the library, pretending to read a book when you were really just sketching her again, not wanting to forget the image of her this morning as you tried your best to translate in on the paper. Meanwhile, Kuvira was situated in an armchair playing with a piece of metal as she transformed it into different figures. Something you observed Kuvira liked to do when she didn’t have anything on her mind. You finish the sketch a few moments later and was about to actually read a book this time when one of the guards rushed into the library causing Kuvira to stand abruptly to greet the guard. “Report?” she said in an authoritative manner which you found extremely intriguing causing a flash of warmth in your stomach for what felt like the hundredth time today.

“The avatar is here captain” and that got your attention. The guard reported that a huge airship landed on Zaofu only to find out that it was the Avatar and her company, arriving two days earlier than expected. You and Kuvira immediately rushed to the receiving hall and Suyin introduces you to the Avatar and her friends

“Princess Y/N! I would like to introduce you to Avatar Korra” Suyin said and you bow to a woman with mocha skin and blue eyes as she did the same for you too. You were caught a little bit off guard when the Avatar reaches for your hand and says, “I am so sorry for what your kingdom is going through right now.” You felt tears form in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away with a smile. “Thank you” you said gently.

After the Avatar releases your hand Suyin proceeds to introduce you to the Avatar’s friends. You meet Lin, Su’s older sister who you have admired all your life for the stories of her bravery in giving up her title and inheritance to be the chief of security in the mainland. Then you meet Bolin and Mako, who both took your hand and kissed it as a sign of respect and that they shared the same sentiment with the avatar towards your kingdom’s demise. And then you meet Asami, a tall, beautiful woman that you quickly learned was involved with the Avatar when one of the guards stared at her for a little bit too long only to have Korra glare at him and pull Asami by the waist for the indication to back-off. Suffice to say you were surprised. You were not made aware that this kind of relationship was okay around here because back in Elysian it was ultimately frowned upon and discouraged. A taboo, basically. Interesting.

Suyin gave a personal tour around the estate and you decided to join along trailing behind them a little bit when you start to converse with Asami. You learned that she was a Sato which impressed you a lot since you have always been a fan of Future Industries. She tells you the story of how she had to take over an entire company at such a young age after her father was imprisoned because of his involvement with the equalists. She was a strong and smart independent young woman. And you admired her for that.

~ ~ ~

Dinner was great and entertaining as usual. There were more of you than usual and the dinner was meant to celebrate Opal and her new skill for air bending which resulted in Suyin requesting wine to be served. You were raised on wine and so you were really good at tolerating its side effects. The Avatar, on the other hand, was a different story. She was all over the place and was already spilling some on herself and the table, not that any of you minded or if the others even noticed, everyone was pretty much approaching Korra’s level of intoxication, and you were amused. Having cups of sake was a daily practice in Elysian, some nobles taking the drink even in the morning. You were sipping on your fourth glass and sitting poised amidst the chaos and the loud laughter and you lock eyes with Kuvira who was standing by the doorway with amusement in her eyes. She mouthed an “are you okay?” to you and you simply smile and nod as you finish the last drops of your glass before getting up to retire to your chambers.

“Where are you going Princess Y/N” Huan calls out turning the attention of the room towards you. “I’m spent. I will be heading to my chambers now” you say respectfully and Asami whines about the night just getting started which was far from the truth, because, by the looks of everyone, they were about to pass out after two more refills. “Well don’t stop on my account” you say anyway as you continue to walk towards the door but not before stopping in front of Kuvira. “Do you mind escorting me captain?” you say to her and she puts a hand on the small of your back to lead you to your room.

The walk to your room was in comfortable silence and when you reached your chambers you turn to Kuvira and invite her inside. She looks at you quizzically, “Zhu Li is not back yet, I could use some company” you explain and Kuvira accepts. You lead Kuvira to your room and she awkwardly stands there not quite sure what her purpose was. Kuvira never entered your room unless Zhu Li was with you. Usually, when Zhu Li was not with you, it indicates that you simply wanted to be left alone which Kuvira respected. But something was different this time. You were okay. For the first time in a while, you were happy.

You walk towards your vanity before taking a seat and you start to take off your jewelry. “You can take a seat Vee, it’s okay.” You say but Kuvira shakes her head “I’m good right here” she says as she stands awkwardly in the center of the room and you roll your eyes not believing her statement “Suit yourself then” you challenged. “Zhu Li usually helps me get ready for the night, but I gave her the day off so It’s pretty much the first time I’m attending to myself” you say in an attempt to make conversation. “How does it feel?” Kuvira asks

“Liberating” you answer with a smile and Kuvira chuckles in amusement and so did you

“I wasn’t joking” you defended yourself as you sat there still laughing lightly and Kuvira shakes her head at your statement.

“It’s just a very strong word to describe the feeling of preparing yourself before bed your highness” She explains with a smile and you furrow your eyebrows “Well how would you use the word “liberating” then?” you asked. Kuvira thought about it for a while before taking a seat on the ottoman at the edge of your bed before locking eyes with you “Probably when I’m free to do whatever I want, without having to worry about social stigma or the consequences. Libersating” she answers, and you nod your head in understanding still not breaking eye contact with her. You didn’t want to. Kuvira smiles at you and eventually looks away to stare at the moon peeking through your window. This pulls you from your thoughts and you decide to get up and undress in the bathroom.

You managed to get the first layer of your dress off but there were two more layers and you were running out of patience as you discover how difficult it is to remove your dress without somebody there to help you. You let out a deep sigh and you peek your head from the bathroom door to see Kuvira standing over your desk, her back turned towards you. You cleared your throat to catch her attention and she turns around. “Yes princess?” she asks, and you slowly walk out of the bathroom with only the underlayer of your dress and you notice Kuvira tense. You pursed your lips trying to hide your embarrassment. “Can you… um… undress me?” you ask and Kuvira stands there not quite sure what you’re suggesting, and you mentally facepalm yourself. My goodness, that sounded so wrong. “What I meant was… I can’t reach the um… the hooks that keep my dress up and I need you to undo it for me” you try to explain, your cheeks slowly heating up from the embarrassment and Kuvira blinks before gaining her composure back “Turn around” she says

You felt your cheeks burn and you followed. You feel Kuvira’s breath at the back of your ear causing goosebumps to rise in your skin. Fuck. The fact that your hair was up exposing the back of your neck fully proved to be no help at all. You closed your eyes trying to erase the crude images flashing in your mind as you feel Kuvira slowly unclasp the hooks of your dress one by one. She undoes the first layer and it drops to the ground. Now you were practically in your undergarment. No, you were in your undergarment. Kuvira’s fingers skillfully untie the ribbons of the garment that held your breasts up. For every ribbon she unties, your breath was getting heavier and your eyes remain closed trying to keep composure. Kuvira was at the final ribbon and your entire back was exposed now as you held the garment into place, so your chest was still covered. Your breath hitched when you felt Kuvira’s nose touch your ear. Spirits help me, what is she doing? You stopped breathing when she slowly traced her fingers lightly from the back of your neck to the small of your back. What was once an innocent stomach flutter, became a heating sensation between your legs. Fuck. “done” Kuvira whispers in your ear. It took most of your energy to turn back around to face her and say thank you like you weren’t affected in the slightest as she gives you a weak smile and a “no problem.”

You walk back into your bathroom and lightly close the door behind to lean against it, “Shit” you whisper to yourself already knowing what this feeling meant. It wasn’t your first time to desire for somebody you couldn’t. You felt that once a year or two ago with one of your ladies, but with the stigma on those kinds of relationships plus the fact that she was engaged to a nobleman since she was 9… you had to suck it up and move on. You did a damn good job of hiding your desires and your feelings back then, and you can do it again.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror before disregarding the garment you held on to, to wrap a robe securely around your body. You gently wash your face and you mentally prepared yourself to face Kuvira once more. Suck it up Y/N. You said to yourself before pushing the door open to see Kuvira standing over your desk again.

“What’s so interesting about that desk Vee?” you jokingly ask

“I thought Huan was exaggerating your talent when he said you could draw, but… this is truly impressive your highness” Kuvira answered turning to face you with a few sketches you made in hand. You smile at her and mentally thank the spirits that your drawings of Kuvira were in the library and that most of the sketches you kept in your room were more of the palace and some sketches of Zhu Li and the Beifongs, mainly Opal.

“You like Opal?” Kuvira asked with a smirk and your eyes widened

“Not in that way!” You defended and Kuvira gives a hearty laugh

“There’s nothing wrong with it! She is a princess after all… It can work!” She jokes and you shake your head in embarrassment before opening one of the cabinets in the room. You pulled out a bottle of sake and two glasses placing it on your desk, and you filled the glasses half-way. I’m not doing this sober. Kuvira’s laugh falters and looks at you in confusion. “What?” you ask as you hand her a glass. “You keep sake in your room?” she asks with an amused smile before taking it from you. “I am from Elysian after all” you say and you two clink your glasses as you take a sip. Kuvira coughs loudly from the drink and you try to suppress a smile. “What is this?! Gasoline?!” she accuses still recovering from the burn of the liquid. You chuckle at her reaction “Haven’t you ever had whiskey before?” you ask surprised. “I’ve heard of it and its effects, but I would have never guessed that I would encounter it first of with an “indoor” princess” She explains, “It’s disgusting by the way. How could you possibly enjoy this?” she says in disgust

“Give it a few more sips and believe me when I say that the taste will be the last thing on your mind.” You say wickedly as you clink your glasses again forcing Kuvira to drink once more out of respect. You see her nose scrunch up in disgust as you tried to hide your smile behind the glass personally finding this entertaining. Who knew my talent for controlling the effects of sake had its own advantages?

Turns out, Kuvira wasn’t a lightweight after all. You spent the rest of the night sitting across from each other on the large window seat already nearly halfway through the bottle and Kuvira isn’t much of a mess yet. Kuvira drinks the remaining liquid in her glass and refills it once more “You know what… this isn’t actually so bad” she comments, “Didn’t I tell you?” you say with a smile. At this point, your hair was already down and you didn’t bother to change out of your robe while Kuvira bent her armor off and disregarded some of her clothing claiming it was “too much” leaving her in green pants and a white tank top which in all honestly you didn’t mind at all.

You stretched your legs to be more comfortable and Kuvira’s eyes land on the exposed skin before looking back up at you. “You know nearly everything about me…” you start and Kuvira nods her head in agreement “I should, I’m tasked to look after you all” she says “Yes, but I don’t really know much about you except for the fact that you hate reading” you say and Kuvira laughs “I’m being serious!” you say with a pout letting the effects of sake kick in. “okay… what do you want to know princess?” she asks and you pretend to think for a moment

“Everything.” You say with a smile before taking a sip from your drink and Kuvira shakes her head at you “Fine.”

“Well, I wasn’t born here in Zaofu…” She started “My parents decided that they couldn’t take care of me anymore and so they brought me here hoping a rich family would adopt me. They left me outside the Palace and one of the guards brought me in and told me to behave if I wanted the nobles to like me. But I was an extremely disobedient kid you see, so when the guard left, I wandered around the castle and ended up in the throne room and fell asleep on the throne” you gasped at this part, earning a chuckle from Kuvira. The throne was sacred and should never be treated with disrespect. Back home, you were only allowed to stand by the throne only when your father was there. Forget about sitting on it. You would have to be the queen to be able to do that.

“Time passed and I felt somebody nudging me awake and when I opened my eyes a woman was staring at me. It was Empress Suyin with a concerned look on her face. She asked me where my parents were and I told her that I didn’t have parents anymore, so she decided to take me in and let me live in the Palace as an adopted member of the family.” She says “But their advisors were against it. They said that I could never be entitled to anything since I was not a real Beifong. And for a little kid, it was the most confusing thing you could possibly hear. I remember thinking: How am I not a Beifong? Suyin was practically my mother and her kids treated me like a sister” She said with a sad look “Eventually when I turned 8 Suyin brought me to the training grounds to show me the meteorites. Surprisingly enough I was quick to bend the meteorite and Suyin told me it was the fastest she’s ever seen anyone attempt and succeed at metal bending. She called me a protégé. Since that day, she has personally trained me and taught me everything I know today.” Kuvira took another drink from her glass “By the age of 16 I joined the royal family’s guard and told Su that if I couldn’t become a Beifong then I will spend the rest of my lifr protecting the Beifongs, the only family I have ever known. After a few years, I raised above my station until I became a captain. It was Suyin who gave me the title, and no one objected to it because they all knew I worked my ass off everyday to get here” Kuvira finishes.

“You call her majesty by her name because she’s basically your mother” you say in realization and Kuvira nods her head. “She insisted on it.” Kuvira explains.

You leaned forward to grab her hand and looked at her with sorrow in your eyes “I’m sorry about your parents… It must have been hard for you as a kid to suddenly be away from them” you say, and she smiles weakly at you unconsciously leaning forward too. “I’m okay” she says. And none of you talk for a while. You lock eyes with her and once again your head is filled with thoughts that shouldn’t be there, but the liquid courage is giving you the strength to not look away. Kuvira didn’t look away too, she didn’t want to. Your stomach starts to feel the all too familiar warmth and you can’t help but wonder if she felt it too.

Your thoughts were confirmed when she gently placed a palm on your cheek and started caressing it. Suddenly you didn’t want to suck it up anymore. You were no longer in control. As if it were instinct, you leaned into her touch and Kuvira slowly leaned in closer. You didn’t dare move a muscle as you felt her breath against your own. One more inch and the gap between the two of you would be closed. But she stopped moving and it took everything in you to not close the gap yourself. She’s a princess Kuvira thought to herself. She closed her eyes and took a sharp breath “I’m sorry” she mutters before quickly pulling away. It took you a few seconds to process what just happened. “It’s… It’s okay.” You say quietly “We’ve had a lot to drink” you say with a little more volume and Kuvira simply nods and gets up but the sake got the best of her when she accidentally stumbles and she had to hold your arm to keep her balance. You chuckle lightly at this and she smiles at herself in embarrassment.

“That whiskey is no joke” Kuvira comments and you two laugh “…what the fuck just happened?” she says and you two laugh even harder, tears forming in your eyes. Your laughter dies down and Kuvira starts to collect herself again and starts putting her disregarded clothes “I should probably go. I need to get at least a few hours of sleep before the day starts or I might space out the entire day” she says before bending her armor back on expertly. “You could sleep here if you want… The couch is rather comfortable” you offered and Kuvira shakes her head “I’m afraid that would be too much for me to accept. I’ll be heading back to my quarters” She explains, and you couldn’t help but feel the pang of disappointment which you expertly conceal. “okay then. Just don’t stumble on your way back” you jokingly say, earning a light chuckle from Kuvira.

Kuvira head for the door but you call her attention before she does “Hey Vee!” she turns to you “Thank you… For tonight” you say and she smiles softly at you “Good night princess…” she checks the clock on the wall “Or should I say morning” she jokes and your smile widens at her wit and she proceeds to open the door, leaving you alone in your chambers and with your thoughts. You were still sat on the window seat and the smile on your face slowly fades as the events of tonight sank in. She feels it too. You thought and you didn’t know what to do with that information exactly. You ended up sitting there for a little while longer to stare out the window. “Spirits help me” you say out loud.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira fanfic #fanfic #OC #Royal AU #lgbt #kuvira is hot #simp #I hate fascists but Kuvira can rail me #w|w #Lesbian #f/f romance #tlok #lok #the legend of korra #avatar

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lilyvandersteen · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Guest Chapter 9

Author’s Note: Are you ready for some Klaine kisses? I’m sure you are, so enjoy :-)

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 9: Kisses

Kurt woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night when all of a sudden, he went from toasty warm to cold. Where was that duvet? Oh, there it was!

Kurt tucked it close around and underneath him and tried to nod off again. He’d almost succeeded when the duvet was cruelly snatched loose again and a pillar of ice - or was it a boulder of granite? - was shoved against his back. He shivered and tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Gradually, the stone slab warmed up and softened around him, but not before he’d woken up enough to realize it was actually Blaine’s body. Why he’d ventured out of bed at such an ungodly hour was anybody’s guess, and Kurt hoped he’d make no more such excursions. He wanted to sleep at night, damn it, and preferably until he felt fully rested, thank you very much.

He tried to slip back into sleep, but now he felt too disgruntled and keyed up to manage that. He stayed still and tried to empty his mind. That wasn’t easy, because he was hyperaware of Blaine’s presence – his chest pressed against Kurt’s back, his legs entwined with Kurt’s, his arm slung over Kurt’s waist, his warm hand on top of Kurt’s and his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing pattern.

And then Kurt let out a wordless gasp, because… was that really a love declaration he’d just heard from Blaine? Surely, that was Blaine being sleep-drunk and not realizing whom exactly he was in bed with, right? Right?

Blaine seemed to fall asleep right after that, but Kurt lay awake staring at the ceiling until he heard Carole get up, and decided to go downstairs too. Might as well make a nice Christmas breakfast for everybody, now that he couldn’t sleep anyway.

Carole looked surprised when he entered the kitchen, and then worried. “Are you okay, honey? Is your throat troubling you again?”

Kurt shook his head and helped himself to coffee. “Just couldn’t sleep anymore, so I came here to do some baking.”

By the time Blaine showed up, Finn had already had three helpings of French toast and was pestering Kurt to take his Christstollen out of the oven already so that he could have a slice. “Mom won’t let me have more French toast, ‘cause Blaine hasn’t had any yet.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, and ignored him as much as he could.

Blaine seemed uncomfortable when the time came to exchange Christmas presents, but cheered up when he remembered he had gifts in his luggage that were apparently generic enough to work just as well for the Hudmel family as they would have for the Andersons.

Looking up from the gifts he’d just unpacked, Kurt saw Blaine hug Carole and beam with pride when she thanked him. His father seemed just as pleased, inspecting a set of… were those beer glasses?

As Carole had remarked before, Blaine seemed part of the family already. Kurt could so easily imagine a life with Blaine always by his side from now on. So clearly that it hurt to realize this might be snatched away from him as soon as their break was over and they had to head back to New York.

Kurt got a lump in his throat, and his eyes pricked. Once again, he found himself wishing that someway, somehow, they could untangle the mess they’d made of things and turn this into something real.

K & B

New Year’s Eve arrived, and though Kurt was looking forward to seeing his friends again, he was nervous as well. Rachel, he could deal with, but he hoped Mercedes would react well. She might be just as angry as Rachel that he hadn’t told her about Blaine yet. They hadn’t talked in several months, but still. And Santana was sure to be a nightmare. He hoped she wouldn’t scare Blaine off by asking him all sorts of invasive questions.

As usual when he felt stressed, he avoided everyone else in the house, and spent far more time choosing his outfit and getting ready than he otherwise would. He didn’t leave the sanctuary of his room until Finn threatened to leave without him.

At least all the prepping and fussing about his appearance hadn’t been for nothing. Blaine was gaping at him, struck speechless with admiration.

Well, that made Kurt feel much better already, so much that he didn’t even roll his eyes at his father’s loud warnings and instructions before they left.

When they arrived at the party, Rachel lit into Kurt at once, letting him have it for keeping silent about Blaine. After living with her for so long, Kurt knew Rachel inside out, and won the argument deftly, without so much as raising his voice.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he introduced Rachel to the newcomers, and then led the way to the makeshift bar, on high alert when he spotted Santana there.

He braced himself for crude remarks, but she let them go with barely an innuendo. He might have guessed she had other mischief on her mind, like tampering with their drinks. When Blaine pointed out she’d spiked them, Kurt felt his temper flare up, but he knew a confrontation with Santana never ended well for her opponent, so he just took a deep breath and slipped away to the kitchen for three soda cans.

Mercedes waylaid him as he was heading back. As he’d guessed, she wasn’t too pleased at being left out of the loop. Kurt weaseled out of that by telling her he had waited until he was sure Blaine was there to stay. “Every time I tell you I have met someone new, I’m always convinced it’s going well, and then after three dates, I find out they’re only in it for the hooking up. And I feel so ashamed, you know? So this time, I wanted to be sure this was going to last.”

Mercedes’ glower disappeared, and a thoughtful look replaced it. “And you think it is? You must, or you would never have taken him to meet your dad.”

Kurt nodded, and before he knew it, he was talking his friend’s ear off about Blaine, telling her how sweet and caring he was, how beautifully he sang, and how he had charmed everyone in the Hudmel household in two seconds flat. “He’s… He’s amazing, ‘Cedes. I… I could see myself marrying him. Not that… I know it’s way too early to be thinking along those lines, I know, but…”

Mercedes grinned. “Aww, someone’s smitten.”

Kurt bit his lip. There was no denying that, unfortunately.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, boo. You deserve this. But he better treat you right, or I’ll rip him a new one.”

Kurt sneaked a look in Blaine’s direction, and saw to his horror that he was being interrogated by Tina.

Uh-oh, I need to go rescue him!

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Startled, he whipped his head around, and saw Mercedes fake-pout at him.

“Sorry, ‘Cedes. You were saying?”

Mercedes shook her head, smiling. “We’ll talk later. You go and get back to your sweetheart.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice, and hurried to the love seat where Blaine was sitting. To his relief, Blaine was holding his own, telling Tina their fake meet cute story with relish, his eyes shining.

Kurt grinned happily and took over, pleased at how Tina lapped it all up.

When the story came to its end, Kurt saw Tina’s eyes flitting to Cathy, who was sitting next to them. Finn was nowhere near, and Cathy seemed very ill at ease.

Making a mental note to berate Finn for abandoning his girlfriend at a party where she knew practically no-one, Kurt turned the conversation to Tina, and she was only too happy to catch him up.

Mercedes joined them, and Kurt forgot about anything and anyone else as he chatted with her. It had been ages since their last phone call, and even longer since they’d seen each other in person, but their friendship was such that they could pick up where they had left off as if no time had passed at all.

Kurt was so focused on Mercedes that he was startled when Blaine asked him something.

Oh! Blaine! Oh wow, so much for berating Finn… I’m just as bad as he is! No, even worse. I’m forgetting all about Blaine while sitting on his lap!

And what was that Blaine was saying?

Mercedes cottoned on faster than Kurt, and announced for the whole room that Kurt and Blaine were going to sing together.

What?!

Before Kurt knew it, Blaine was tugging him along to the karaoke stage. He felt off balance both mentally and physically, stumbling over his feet and not feeling at all ready to sing.

Blaine, instead of giving Kurt a minute to compose himself, laughed away his concerns, and then, just when Kurt was about to lose his temper, Blaine gave him a sweet kiss on the hand and a smile so sunny that it warmed him from within and made his anger melt away.

Okay, okay. I can do this. I can.

They chose a karaoke classic Kurt had sung before, and he was pleased to note that their voices blended extremely well. In that respect, too, Blaine was a great match.

Kurt beamed at Blaine when the song came to its end, feeling invigorated.

It took only one moment – and one infuriating friend – to ruin his mood. Rachel came to congratulate them, and in the same breath, she demanded to sing with Blaine too.

Blaine, as accommodating as ever, seemed willing to duet with Rachel, but Kurt wasn’t having any of it.

Too long had Rachel swooped in and taken everything Kurt had his eye on. Not this time. No.

He sent Rachel a death glare, and with a loud “No!”, he grabbed Blaine’s hand and led him away from her, his blood thrumming “Mine” with every step he took.

And then suddenly Santana was there blocking their way and taunting him, and Kurt’s frustration with this whole situation reached its boiling point, and he shouted at her to leave them alone.

Seconds later, he regretted his outburst, but the damage was done. Santana narrowed her eyes and smirked and started making insinuations, and he was so sick of this. It turned out being teased about your relationship wasn’t much fun when there was no actual relationship to make up for the teasing. Nothing but a sweet guy who went along with pretty much anything people asked of him. Not just Kurt, and he would do well to remember that. They’d established some kind of friendship, yes, but that was all.

Suddenly, he felt bone-weary, and his response was lackluster. How soon after midnight was too soon to leave a New Year’s party, anyway?

He turned to Blaine to tell him he was tired and wanted to go home, but before he could get the first word out, Blaine gave him an intense look, cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle peck on the lips. Blaine’s kiss was deep and heady from the start, as if he wanted to tap into Kurt’s very essence.

Kurt, reeling inside, grabbed onto Blaine like a lifeline, because his legs felt like rubber all of a sudden, and his head was all woozy.

Wow. So that’s what kisses are supposed to be about. I’ve been missing out.

As soon as he’d gotten over his initial surprise, Kurt got with the program and started kissing back, winding his arms around Blaine’s middle, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

He would gladly have kissed Blaine the whole night through, but reality intervened, in the form of a very drunk Quinn bumping into him and jolting him out of his kiss-induced haze.

“Sorry,” she slurred, but Kurt paid more attention to the countdown going on. “Six! Five!”

So it wasn’t New Year yet? Then why had Blaine kissed him all of a sudden?

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!”

Everyone around them cheered, and Blaine moved in for another kiss, this one soft and sweet.

“Happy New Year,” Blaine whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

Kurt hoped his face didn’t show all the questions that were running through his head. They still had appearances to keep up, after all. They could discuss this when they were back in his bedroom.

Blaine gave Kurt a soft smile and moved in to nuzzle and kiss his neck.

Ooh, that feels good!

Kurt’s eyes snapped shut of his own accord, and he threw his head back to allow Blaine better access.

Moments later, a voice broke through the thick haze of arousal.

“Ugh, take your soft porn somewhere we don’t have to see it!”

Santana. Apparently, she hadn’t left when they started kissing.

Kurt opened his eyes to tell her she’d done worse with Brittany right in front of him, but before he could speak, someone else said, “Speak for yourself, San. I’m enjoying the show, boys, don’t stop!”

Quinn! Behind her, Sugar, Rachel, Tina and Mercedes were grinning and nodding, and even Puck looked intrigued. The only one who looked slightly nauseated was Finn, but Cathy was beaming at Kurt and winking.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Kurt announced. “Finn, Cathy, are you coming with us or do you want to stay a bit longer?”

The four of them walked home in silence. Kurt’s head was still overflowing with questions, but he didn’t want Finn to overhear anything, so he kept them all inside.

He shivered in the crisp winter night, and Blaine immediately slung an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“Better?”

“Much.”

And it was. Kurt happily basked in the body heat Blaine provided, and looked forward to having Blaine warm his icy feet in bed.

They snuck in silently. Finn had clearly decided that if Blaine could sleep over, then so could Cathy. Finn threw Kurt a defiant look, daring him to say something, but seemed only fair to Kurt, so all he said was “Goodnight” before he led Blaine upstairs.

They undressed in silence, and it wasn’t until they were snug in bed, Kurt soaking up Blaine’s heat greedily, that they spoke. Both at the same time.

“Why did you kiss me?”/ “Sorry for kissing you without asking first.”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. In the moonlight, his expression was serious, and his eyes soft and pleading.

“I… didn’t mind. I just wondered… Why?”

Blaine ducked his head. “Santana was… I thought… It seemed like a good idea at the time. To allay suspicions.”

Kurt digested this. “So it was just for show?”

Blaine swallowed before he answered, his Adam’s apple going up and down, and then he shook his head.

With bated breath, Kurt waited for him to say something more.

“I like you, okay?” Blaine then whisper-shouted. “I know we got thrown into this by a misunderstanding, and we’re not really boyfriends, but I would like to. You’re amazing, Kurt. And these past few day have shown me that we click really well. Do you think… Would you want to…?”

And then it was Kurt moving in for a kiss, clumsy and off-center and full of teeth because they were both grinning into it.

“Yes. Yes yes yes, please. Let’s try this for real.”

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #The Christmas Guest #chapter 9 #fake dating

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fortune-fool02 · 3 years

Text

Painting in His Mind

Robert E.O Speedwagon x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

A creepy Lovecraftian story of a character of your choice featuring a slow transformation into a non human or half human being and the reader trying to help them cope.

Lovecraftian AU

I love this idea! Throwing out all cuteness and fluff, we are losing sanity like adults! This is a bit long. Please enjoy!

There was only so much that the human mind could comprehend. Only some beliefs that could allow them to live happy, simple lives; oblivious to truths beyond their capability of understanding. Things impossible outside of stories and myths. Things that melted reality and belief together into one absurd painting of mass dark greens.

The painting was something that was so strange and abstract that it captivated Speedwagon from the moment he laid eyes on it. He had found it during a robbery of some abandoned mansion that had been left to rot after the owners had died in an accident. Carriage rode right off the cliff and down into the rocks below from what he heard. No one survived and they barely found enough to bury. A collection of things had already been taken by anyone who could get their hands on it and yet the paintings were left untouched.

Speedwagon had gone in one night, searching for something to take when he stumbled upon the cloth covered canvases, tucked away in the studio that was once a supply room or storage room. Curious, he had removed a sheet and saw the painting.

Dark shadows merging with the blackness behind it, distorting and shifting into the light to be seen. Gaping maws inside gaping maws, lines of white stained red, both fresh and dried. Something stirring deep within him, a primal sense of fear that had never been felt before, not when he was held at gunpoint nor when he was in inches of his life. Hollow orbs blacker than the ocean’s darkness with twisting shapes and empty sockets staring out into his coffee brown eyes, piercing pass them and worming their way into his mind like a parasitic worm feasting of a fresh, ripe host. Something silently cried in his mind, as if the painting itself was speaking through a veil of water, muffled and distorted but there. Whispers, whining and whimpering, aching to be heard by ears not for them.

He did not know why but he had to take that painting back home with him. He wanted it. He had to have it. The need and hunger for money was all but forgotten to Speedwagon when he returned to his home and practically stripped down an entire wall in his room for that painting. It didn’t deserve a simple spot, no, it deserved the entire wall. Shelves ripped from their place and cast aside, forgotten, replaced. All in favour of that painting.

Every day, Speedwagon sat and admired the painting. Tracing his fingers over every brush streak, every melt of the colours, over the maw and teeth. Something deep within him was drawn to this painting, a tugging in his core like a string, no, not a string, stronger. A thread, a rope, a chain. A chain to a boulder dropped in the ocean, pulling him down with it. Sometimes, he could hear the whispering, soft singing below water; deep in his mind, faint but there, wanting to be heard, to be louder. He wanted to hear it.

His friends came by to check on him and he reassured them he was fine. His friends swallowed his answers after some convincing and left him be but [Name] was kinder than that, more concerned, and thus remained with him. Wanting to make sure he really was alright. She was always so kind in his eyes, always so sweet and generous, thinking of those before herself. That was why he showed her the painting. He had expected her to be awestruck by it but, instead, she was unsettled by it, she even took some steps away from it.

Then again, they did have different tastes in preferences and art so that could just be it. But her face, she looked so concerned for him. She even questioned him as to why he had such a thing. He told her how he felt about the painting, how he found it oddly captivating.

“Robert, you have never once been interested in something like this style before. It’s not right at all, it’s....unsettling.” the [Hair colour] woman told him, her eyes glowing with honesty and concern for him. Speedwagon sighed at those eyes, such beautiful eyes. Sighing, he told her everything. The odd dreams that plagued his nights since he got the painting, the images of something reaching out of the inky blackness to him, dragging him down deeper into the darkness. His lungs filled with water whenever he tried to scream or call out in these dreams. Her expression painted into many different layers of concern for him and tried to think of some way to help him.

No matter what advice he took, Speedwagon could not shake this painting. Couldn’t shake the pull he felt towards it. His dreams would spill past his eyes and into his vision, seeing the twisted things crawl towards him in his own home, no longer bound to his dreams alone anymore. His growing need to be with some kind of water. First starting off as drinking more, and more, until it was no longer enough and the blonde man would lay in the bath for hours. Even after the water had gone cold. [Name] recalled coming to see him one time and finding him trying to strangle himself while trying to call out for help then saying that something had wrapped around his throat, refusing to believe it was his own hand.

That was when [Name] decided enough was enough.

The sun had long set when she arrived at Speedwagon’s house unannounced. She knew that this would be foolish but she was doing this for Robert. Her pick-locks soon allowed her entrance to his house and was greeted by a breeze of coldness. It had been a few days since she last saw Speedwagon and, by the looks of his house, whatever has happened has only gotten worse with the thrown about furniture and broken objects. Especially with the lit candles all over the place and drawings.

Slowly making her way upstairs, [Name] peeked into Speedwagon’s room to see the bedroom in almost perfect condition. Clean, well-kept, well-lit, the only room in such way. In the centre of the room, Speedwagon laid, bowing to the painting and praising it as one would the Holy Spirit or Christ. Robert Speedwagon was not a religious man so this was something unsettling for her to witness. The door creaking caught his attention, making him smile.

“[Name]. My wonderful darling, please, come in, come in.” His tone sounded so...at peace. Like he was welcoming an old friend in who he hasn’t seen in many years. The second she got a better look at him, she knew something was off. His coffee brown eyes were hazy, glossed over with a bleakness to them, like his mind wasn’t there.

“Robert? What....What’s going on?” He only smiled more at her words.

“Nothin’. I’m just enjoyin’ the beauty of it. Can you see it, [Name]?” He asked, motioning to the painting again. Uncertainty flooded her, mixing with the concern for his odd behaviours. The man’s skin looked paler, drained of colour almost, like he was sick and only sparked more concern.

“Robert, are you feeling well? You look dreadful.” [Name] spoke, taking a step closer to him only to have him smile more.

“I’m fine. I have never been better.” Refusing to accept his answers anymore, [Name] shook her head,

“No, you’re not. You’re sick and I’m taking you to a hospital. Now.” She said, reaching to him to lift him up. As cruel as this seemed, she was doing this for his benefit. Robert refused to leave, squirming out of her hold and remaining in place.

“No! I’m stayin’ here! I need to watch this paintin’! Protect it!” He spat out at her, something he had never done since they knew one another. [Name], infuriated, grabbed a knife from her pocket and went over to the painting, ready to drive the blade through the canvas and destroy the damn thing. That did not sit well with Speedwagon as the man screamed in a rage, tackling her down and striking her across the face. His expression and eyes wild with rage.

“Don’t you dare touch it! You’re not worthy to touch it! How dare you try to destroy it!” He screamed at her, grabbing her [Hair colour] hair and smacking her head against the floor with force. Her cries of pain and pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued to do this before tightly yanking her head up again and glaring into her [Eye colour] eyes.

“Robert, please! Please, I-I’m sorry!” She cried out, trying to move her hands to protect her head and curl up more, though his iron grip prevented that.

“Not good enough! Not good enough....” He kept his grip, his hand reaching to the side for something and pulling it back into view. The candle-light glimmered against the blade in his hand. Cold panic flooded through her at the sight of it, squirming more under his grip,

“No! No, Robert! Please!” Again, her pleas were ignored as he straddled her, holding her in place as he brought the blade higher up.

“Lä. Lä. Cthulhu fhtagn...” he spoke softly, the words foreign and unknown to her as the blade remained still for a moment. Then brought down.

“Speedwagon pleas-!”

#speedwagon #robert e o speedwagon #jojo bizarre adventure #speedwagon x reader #robert e o speedwagon x reader #jojo bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #jojo part 1 #jojo phantom blood #phantom blood x reader #phantom blood #robert edward o speedwagon #reo speedwagon #lovecrafian au

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queenofwerewolves · 3 years

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Future Hope - chapter 1.5 - Practice Makes Perfect

Our heroes didnt get their powers and knew from night to day how to manage them, especially those who had physical changes to their body. Our soon-to-be heroes were all reunited in Maria's house, they had planed to spend the afternoon practing and exploring their new limits and abilities, all helping eitch other.

They decided since Griff had the biggest change, they would focus on him first. At the moment they were out in backyard, eitch one giving suggestions on what to begin first.

"Pick us all up at once with your new muscles!" Said Muffin excitedly. "That's still too light! Pick us all up plus Maria's car" Said Spike, chewing once again on a bubblegum.

"You all leave Hellride out of this!" Maria responded angrily. "That car was expensive as fuck and I refuse to go back to a life of Ubers!" She crossed her arms, indignified.

"You named your car?" Kip answered from high up a tree branch, as cats do. "I name all my belongings, what of it?" Maria answered. "And they're all cool names, too".

"Hellride? Really?" Spiked scoffed. "Because she rides fast as Hell! Look can we get back on track and find something for Griff to test his strenght?!" Maria answered nervously with a touch of embarrassment.

"Unless we find an Indiana Jones boulder for him to spin on his finger like a damn basketball we arent gonna get any damn progress!" Spike shouted back.

Maria sighed and shook her head. "I hate it when you have a point.." Griff nervously scratched the back of his head. "There must be something we can do.." He quietly mumbled out.

"I got it!" Muffin shouted, they all turned to face her. "I forgot Im a fairy! I can just poof something up!" She said excitedly. Everyone stared at her with either a confused or shocked look.

"..How... Do you FORGET that you're a fairy?!" Spike blurted out nervously. "You have fucking wings! How does one forget they have huge pink glittery wings?!"

Muffin just shrugged.

Maria smiled wide. "OK Muffin, give us something huge and heavy for Griff to use!" Muffin nodded and grabbed her wand which had a muffin on the tip. "Wand cook, beat and bake! Give us a big large and tasty cupcake!" She waved her wand and out appeared from a bunch of pink glittery smoke, a nearly two-story house tall chocolate cupcake.

"... Why a cupcake..?" Blink asked as she peeked behind her mask, in slight awe and wanting to secretly a bite out of it. "I can only make sweets!" Muffin said with a shy tone. "Im not a fighter like you guys, I only want to make people happy and eat candy!"

"That is certainly the biggest pastry I've ever seen! So large and beautiful, I bet tasty as well!" "Not to mention DIABETIC AS HELL!!! We could die from a heart attack eating that! Or worse, we could get fat! Even fatter! And become even uglier then we already are! This is too overwealming I need a nap!"

Rooko and Rooki suddenly spoke, almost taking everyone off guard on how their friend Rook is suddenly two split personalities now based on the Youtube character ENA, one is always happy while the other is always sad, and depending on the situation they can go Manic or Miserable.

"OK Griff, show us what you can do!" Maria shouted excitedly. Without missing a second, Griff bent over and gripped the edge of the massive cupcake, after struggling a bit he slowly but surely, lifted the entire thing over his head, smiling proudly.

His friends cheered and applauded proudly. Feeling satisfied, he dropped the cupcake and dusted the chocolate crumbs off his hands and fur. "Yokusei!" He shouted, and with a naruto-like smoke poof, he turned back to his human self. Maria ran and hugged him tightly, which Griff embraced and hugged back with a slight twirl.

"Griff you were amazing!!" Maria said with a proud tone, Griff slightly blushed pink at the small punk girl and her excitement. "Oh shucks, it was nothing.." He said with a shy tone.

"Well, and seems we concluded Griffin's training." Togekiss said as they took a sip of tea. "He jump twice as high as a two-story house, his punches and kicks can knock down brick walls and possibly more if we werent limited on objects to test it with, he can hear twice as much then a dog could with his ears, and his sense of smell is impecable. Truly Griff is a strong asset to our team."

"I can only train my powers at night.." Said Spooks, holding an umbrella to protect her from the sun, now that it injures her. "Muffin's power is only sweet making. Togekiss has exceptional I.Q and can see simulations in the future like Garnet in Steven Universe, along with their strong telekenisis, and Kip simply draws whatever she desires, whether alive or not and it becomes a reality... That means it's Rook's turn to show us what she can do" She finished.

"Wonderful! It's our time to shine!" "I-I-I not ready! Everyone's gonna laugh at us! I-I might piss myself in fear!" "Oh pull yourself together dear! Our friends wont laugh at us!" "How do we know that?! They're just waiting to correct us on a dumb mistake!!!"

Rook's body shook and twitched as her eyes turned to static, suddenly her entire eyes turned black with a blue iris, she turned Miserable.

"They're gonna laugh and point at our foolish selves, we're gonna be so embarrassed that we'll wish that the Earth will swallow us whole and just fucking kill us now!! Go ahead! Laugh at us and our misfortune!!!"

"ooh shit" Maria said. "can someone calm her down?"

Rook's eyes change to regular as her Miserable side went away. "No need my good Queen! We are completly fine! Now prepare to be dazzled as we show you all what we can do!" q

Rook pulled out a harry potter-like wooden wand, waved it around. "Bloom and Blossom and protect who I love! Rise my pretties, rise high and above!" Rooki shot an orange light at the grass, which made dozens of flowers bloom and grow around Spike and Blink.

"This is only one of my tricks! It's a shield that protects them from almost anything! My main weakness is fire, because while plants are beautiful, they are also sadly very, very flammable"

"Cool." Said Spike before using his bat to aggressivly hit the flowers and the vines aside so he and Blink could leave.

"M-M-My turn I guess!" Rook took hold of the wand and waved it in circles. "Razzle Dazzle Shine and Show, make their body move it low!" Rooko shot a blue light at Spooks, which made unwillingly and uncontrolably start dancing and as the spell said, make her go low.

"O-OH GOD SOMEONE MAKE IT STOP I DONT LIKE HOW MY BUTT IS MOVING THIS MUCH!!" She shouted in desperation as she made a split and moved it even lower.

"M-My deal is with music! I-It works as a way of distraction o-or hypnosis and it lasts for 30 minutes un-le-less I say otherwise! I-I know it's a sucky power!"

"OK COOL CAN I STOP DANCING PLEASE IM GETTING A CRAMP!!!" Yelled Spooks, practically begging. Rooko flicked her wand and Spooks fell on the ground, panting. "OH MY POOR HAMSTRINGS THEY ACHE!!" She yelled in utter pain, meanwhile Maria and Spike were absolutely losing it.

"O-OH GOD MY STOMACH HURTS-" Said Spike in between laughter.

"OK you guys cool it" Said Blink. "It's our turn to practice now. We're the only ones who use regular weapons." She said drawing her sword and positioning her mask back in place.

"O-OK! OK!" Maria said getting up, she pulled out a small staff and whipped it, making it stretch out wide into a full, large red and black scythe, with a rose print on the blade. Spike spun his bat and spat his gum out.

"So. Who's ass Im kicking first?" Said Spike. "Wait on second thought this might be unfair." Said Blink. "Me and Maria had blades while Spike has a bat, maybe we should-"

Before she could finish, Spike swung his bat and hit Blink sword, knocking it out of her hand before kicking her back at the ground. Blink fell back hard before she could even process what happen, dumbfounded but angry, she snarled. "Oh it's on now Motherfucker." She extended her hand and the sword flew back to her hand, as she charged towards Spike, who moved out of the way as soon as Blink swung her sword, which if he hadnt been for Maria's scythe, would have sliced her right up.

"Dude! Chill! This is a pratice!" Maria spoke as both of their blades were against eitch other. Blink hopped and flipped over her and landed on a tree branch, croutching like a ninja. She put her hands together and in a small puff of smoke and disappeared. Spike and Maria were back to back, ready to counterattack Blink, what they didnt expect was for her to attack from underground.

Buring up from the dirt, she got both of them off their feet and charged after Spike, who barely managed to regain his balance before his using bat his block Blink's sword. A back and forth of clash-clings-and-clangs between metal begun, one attacking the other but eitch blocking every attack again and again.

Spike ducked a sword slash and roundhouse kick Blink's leg, which was effective since she's practically a ninja. She backflipped back on her feet and kept attacking swiftly. But a sudden scythe blade cut in between them, stopping the fight.

"That's enough!!!" Maria shouted. "You both are gonna end up hurting yourselves or eitch other! im ending it now!!"

"Oh what the hell dude?!" Blink shouted indignified. "I was about to beat him!!" "Oh please." Answered Spike. "Was that the best you could do? Sakura could do a better job kicking my ass" He scoffed. They began to argue loudly, genuinely angry at eitch other.

"THAT"S ENOUGH!!!!" Maria shouted, making them, and everyone else look at her.

"It doesnt matter would win that fight! This was a practice and not a competition!! The point of us being a team and getting powers in the first place was for all of us to make the world a better place, but the only way that can happen is if all of us work together!! As a team!!!"

They stood in silence, listening to her talk and set them straight.

"As cheesy as that sounds, it's true!! We shouldnt fight eitch other like this, you're not just my friends, we're all friends with eitch other! We all go along well and we know that, that's why I got you all together, because no one can bond better in a team then all of us together!!!"

"... She's right." Togekiss added, walking towards them. "We all started as simple individuals with free time on a website, but we all shared common interests, we grew closer.. And suddenly like that, we all became friends.. A family, if you will."

"We take care of eitch other and look out for one another." Said Spooks.

"Just like how you all did for me.. When I almost died. Almost died because of the shit and violent world we live in." Maria said.. With a slight crack in her voice.

"You're bringing in the same violence that almost killed me.. So please.. Please stop fighting.. We're all in this together.. Right..?"

Spike and Blink dropped their weapons and hugged Maria, and everyone else joined in as well.

"You're right, we're sorry Queen." Said Spike. "We got overwhealmed and we didnt mean it. We wont fight again, because you're right." Added Blink.

"We only have eitch other in this world, and if we want to change it we have to stick together, just like you said." Spike said one more time.

"And we wont let you down.. We promise.." Griff finished, with everyone agreeing with what he said.

And so they stayed for a moment, embraced within eitch other in a group hug. A family isnt perfect, there will be disagreements, but a good bond will always overcome those disagreements, and that's what they had, a good bond.

A bond that's practically unbreakable and untaintable. A bond that will soon be ready, and fight together to make the world a better place.

A bond that will the world's Future Hope..

#Queen's Story #consider this a side chapter #it's small but significant for the characters

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meadowmood · 3 years

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Vinphala’s Storm

This is the third short story upload I will be doing for all of the work I did for my senior show centering around my own stories and characters. If you would like to view the entire exhibition now, click this link! It includes a number of short stories, illustrations, and character bios for your viewing pleasure!

Full Story below the cut!

Abalone strolled through the city, the bright sun overhead warming his wool. As usual he had a small gaggle of admirer’s trailing conspicuously behind him as well as a good amount of ogling bystanders. He didn’t mind, he knew nature spirits were a rare sight on this side of the world. Not to mention he enjoyed the attention...

He was heading toward the city center, as he did with every city he traveled to. This time, however, was special, as it was his first time returning to the Sun Pole since his youth. He had hatched near this city with his other half, Vinphala. Vinphala… The thought of his sibling made him stop. He had been thinking of her more the closer he had gotten to his old home. A small part of him wished he would see her, but the rest of him shuddered at the thought. The last time he had seen Vinphala she had almost blasted him off the face of Thera. He wasn’t sure he could escape with his life a second time. A sudden tug on his skirt brought him back to reality. He turned and was greeted with the concerned expression of an incredibly small old woman standing behind him. “Excuse me, young man, but I would make your way to a shelter. A storm’s coming.” Abalone looked up and saw the crowds had all vanished while he had been deep in thought. “Thank you, kind elder, but I will be okay.” The woman nodded in understanding and made her way hastily into a nearby building. A single drop of rain fell onto Abalone’s nose and he stared up at the sky. The storm was approaching faster than he thought. The sky blackened within seconds, the warm glow of the sun quickly extinguished by the smothering darkness of the oncoming storm. Rain began to fall more heavily as Abalone quickly hastened his pace to find a dry place to rest. He looked around for a place that wouldn’t mind a drenched stranger barging in looking for shelter. He soon reached the town square and spied a small bakery that would suffice. As he opened the door, crouching slightly to fit himself under the doorframe, he got a good look at the inside. Low tables and pillow seats were spread neatly across the floor, the ceiling glittering with enchanted lanterns that gave off an inviting glow. To his right was a huge display, filled to the brim with a variety of sweet and savory baked goods.

Before he could admire anything else he realized that he was not the only one who had come into the warm bakery seeking comfort from the rain. A sea of people had turned to look at him upon his entrance, wide eyed and waiting for him to do something. His chance to address them was interrupted by a plump young woman bursting through the kitchen door behind the counter, carrying several trays full of assorted drinks and snacks. She skillfully maneuvered around the many tables and patrons delivering each one their desired treat. Bringing their attention away from Abalone one by one as she did so. As the woman placed the last item on the table she finally looked up and saw Abalone standing in the doorway. “My, you’re a big one aye? Bet you can fit a good bit in that stomach of yours!” She chuckled heartily before making her way behind the counter again. She placed the trays down and looked back up at him “Can I get anything for you? Something warm to perk ya up?” She peered down at the puddle of water that was accruing on the floor, “A towel, perhaps?” Abalone looked down and saw the puddle “Oh right, sorry!” He quickly opened the door and with a swift hand motion drew the water into the air and plopped it outside. A soft excited murmur was heard from the patrons as they admired the small flourish of magic he had just performed. He turned back to the woman sheepishly, trying not to draw attention to himself. “I apologize for my intrusion, good shop owner. I would like to take shelter from the rain here.” The woman laughed warmly. “No need to be so formal about it! Just sit yerself down and buy yerself something nice, eh?” Abalone smiled and nodded, and with a few coins acquired himself a cream bun, a few hot pepper rosettes, and a cup of tea. He sat down at a nearby table and gratefully began to eat his meal. He was only a few bites into the cream bun when a voice piped up from the table next to him. “Excuse me! Are you a nature spirit?” Abalone turned to see a small boy looking up at him with wonder in his eyes. He smiled and placed his food back down on the table. “I just might be, who is asking?” “Me! I mean my name is Heffra!” the child squeaked, his confidence seeming to drain after his first greeting. “Heffra you’re not bothering the poor creature are you?” a tall woman sitting beside him said. “Quite the opposite!” Abalone said smiling, “and to answer your question, dear Heffra, yes I am. I actually hatched somewhere near here a very long time ago.” “Wooow!” exclaimed the boy, his eyes sparkling. “Then you must be really powerful then! I bet you could a bunch of stuff with your magic huh? like...like...” the boy seemed to grow more excited thinking of all of the things he imagined Abalone could do, “like lift a boulder or, or fly across a whole forest or even…” he paused and stared out the large glass window of the bakery. “Or maybe even stop the storm!” Abalone heart sunk slightly at the boy’s excitement. He could do none of those things. He had already shown the extent of his magical ability at the door of the shop. No, when it came to magic, Vinphala was the powerful one. “I am deeply sorry young Heffra, but I am no powerful spirit,” he stared out the window, “and as for stopping storms, only my other half Vinphala could do that.” “Hrmph, then I wish they were here,” grumbled the boy’s mother. “We’ve been under siege by the rain for almost a month now. Each time it gets worse and worse. If it doesn’t stop soon the whole town is going to be waterlogged! Could use someone to give us a break.” “That sounds awful,” Abalone said, his smile disappearing. “Does the city have no protective enchantments to help ease the issue?” “We do,” the woman said with a sigh, “except they must not be very good because the storms keep on coming anyway. It has the local academy in a frenzy trying to figure out why.” Before Abalone could reply a resounding crack of thunder rang out. It’s rumbling cacophony shaking the building and causing the lanterns to flicker momentarily. The boy yelped and clung to his mother. “It’s alright,” she soothed, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s only a noise. We are safe inside.” The boy seemed calmed by this and was just lifting his head from his mother’s shirt when a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the entire room, followed by another deafening round of thunder falling from the sky. Abalone was shaken to his core by the sound of it. The relentless downpour, the crashing of lightning, and the raucous anger of the thunder... it all seemed so familiar to him. Vinphala. Vinphala was causing the storm, he knew it. He could feel the relentless fury in every raindrop. If his sibling wasn’t the cause of this something else just as powerful was, and he needed to stop it. He stood up and headed to the front of the shop, halfway out the door before he heard a call of protest. “Wait! You’ll get hurt!” He turned to see Heffra standing by the table,looking teary eyed and anxious. His mother looked irritated at his sudden outburst, and motioned for him to sit down. “I may not be powerful, but I have a strong heart.” Abalone said as calmly as he could. “Not even a storm can take that from me.” Abalone pushed down his swelling fear to smile at the boy. “I will be okay, and so will you,” he soothed. Heffra nodded and sat down like he understood. With that Abalone disappeared out the door and was immediately pounded by the sheer force of the rain coming down. He looked up and was able to make out a swirling black cloud in the distance. It appeared to be the center of the storm, and most certainly where he would find Vinphala. Abalone took a deep breath, attempting to calm his building fear, and ran straight for the mass of seething black clouds. The path toward his sibling led him to an expansive beach, and without a second thought, he rushed straight into the shallow water. “Vinphala!” he shouted, his weak voice barely audible above the thunder. “Vinphala, I know it’s you! Please talk to me!” Abalone struggled to remain upright in the turbulent water, turning around wildly for any sign of his other half. “P-please!” Abalone yelled before he felt himself slip off the sandbar beneath him, the dark water swallowing him up in its angry depths. In a panic he clawed at the foaming waves, trying to manipulate them to free him from the churning deep, but it was to no avail. Suddenly, something gripped the wool on the back of his neck, pulling him out of the water’s deadly current with amazing strength. Abalone gasped for breath, and before he could tell what was happening he was dragged toward the shore, barely keeping his head above water as he was pulled forward. With surprising force he was thrown against the flat rocks of the shoreline. Abalone gripped the wet rocks with all of his strength as he coughed up the ocean water that had made its way into his throat. “I can’t believe you,” a sharp, seething voice rang out amongst the storm. Abalone’s vision slowly cleared as he blinked away raindrops, regaining some composure as he turned his head toward the familiar voice. He froze as recognition of his rescuer’s identity shot through him like lightning, and immediately wished he had been left to fend for his life in the ocean’s raging waves. “20 years it’s been,” Vinphala hissed, “20 YEARS since you’ve last shown your face, and the first thing you have me do is pull your soft sniveling hide from drowning in shallow water?” She almost screeched as a blinding bolt of lightning exploded down into the waves behind her, causing Abalone to flinch. “V-Vinphala...” Abalone stammered out, caught between pure terror and astonishment, “...you saved me.” Vinphala sneered at him, baring her long sharp fangs “As it seems to be my birthright to do so.” The comment ripped into Abalone’s chest and forced him to turn away from her piercing gaze. “I never asked you to take care of me,” Abalone said shakily. He gathered his strength and lifted his head again, thankful the rain hid his tears. “That choice was yours Vinphala, not mine.” He lifted himself into a kneeling position, looking up to face her. “I know you’re hurting. Why don’t you just say it? Please, Vinphala, tell me what you're feeling. Calm the storm before people get hurt.” Vinphala’s eyes widened as rage crept into the crinkles of her brow. “Oh? Is that all I need to do? Let little Abalone know my every vice and everything will be okay is that it?” The storm surged again, the wind whipped his ears around his face and a deafening crack of thunder drowned out all other noise. “Vinphala, I said you need to stop!” Abalone cried out to her, shielding himself from the power of the pouring rain. “Why should I?” She screamed over the roaring thunder “Why shouldn’t everyone know exactly how I feel?” “The storm is too strong, you’re going to hurt someone!” he shouted. “Please!” “Good!” Vinphala cried, showing no signs of remorse “Maybe then someone can understand me!” “I understand you!” Abalone pleaded, desperation seeping into the crevices of his voice. “Why don’t you talk to me? I can help you!” Vinphala shook her head in rage and cast another bolt of lightning into the sea. “Of COURSE you would say that!” She wailed, her voice cracking slightly. “You always think you can read my mind, that you know what's best for me!” she screamed. Her body seethed with anger as electricity coursed around her. “You think you can fix me, is that it? Make sure I’m not such a problem? Not such a burden on the shoulders of the world? Well guess what Abalone!” she yelled, streaks of lightning crashing into the shallow sea, causing the foaming waves to explode violently around them “YOU. CAN’T. I will ALWAYS be like this, I will NEVER change and YOU can’t say ANYTHING about it!” “Vinphala, wait!” Abalone called out, but it was too late. With a brilliant flash of light, she was gone, leaving only destruction in her wake. The storm dissipated almost as quickly as it came, the last few drops of rain falling morosely into the calming sea. Abalone sat on the rocky shore, soaked to his bones, staring out into the horizon. He saw nothing, only wisps of clouds running with their tails tucked from the rays of light now making their way to the ground as the sky cleared. She was gone. A mixture of rain and drops of tears fell down Abalone’s face and onto the wet rocks below him. He had failed once again to make Vinphala see reason. The realization seeped into him like a chilling wind, the sudden cold forcing him to wrap his arms around himself as he shivered in sorrow. His mind faded into the years of his youth, when he and Vinphala were inseparable. He ached to return to those days. He had been born weak, his fragile body almost fading away with how little magic coursed through his veins. If it weren’t for Vinphala’s fierce protection, he may never have lived past his first weeks of life. He never meant for them to fade away in the years that followed, he had no clue back then that there would come a time when they weren’t always together. He was torn from his thoughts by the sounds of people calling from the beach. The patrons from the bakery had followed him out after the storm ended and were waving him down. He tried to stand but fell back down onto the rocks, his body weak and shaking from the encounter. Heffra’s mother rushed out into the shallow water, her dress ballooning up as she came to help him. “By Liy’s light, what are you doing all the way out here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she said, with a sternness only a parent could muster. She grabbed his arm and hoisted him up with the help of the bakery owner, and with their combined effort he made it out of the water and onto the beach, where another patron took a thick cloak off their shoulders and wrapped it around him. “T-thank you, all of you,” Abalone stammered out, scanning the crowd, “Are any of you hurt?” “Us? what about you?” the baker replied incredulously. “Just what were ya thinkin’, comin’ out all the way to the beach during a storm like that?” Abalone got to his feet and steadied himself, careful to get up slowly this time. “I saw her,” he said quietly. “My other half...” he looked down, ashamed. “...she was the cause of the storms.” “A spirit then?” the baker said, surprised. “That explains the power of ‘em, I ‘spose.” Before anyone else could say anything a small boy pushed his way to the front of the crowd “Heffra!” the mother gasped. “I told you to stay inside the bakery!” The boy ignored her and ran up to Abalone’s feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. “Did you really see her?” the boy asked excitedly, bouncing up and down. “You saw another spirit?” Abalone looked down at him and sighed trying his best to conceal his sadness, letting a small smile spread across his face at the boy's innocent wonder. “Yes I did, young Heffra, though I am sad to say not for very long. She is gone now, and she has taken the storm with her.” “So you really did do it! You stopped the storm! I knew you were powerful! I knew it!” Heffra shouted, flapping his arms with joy at his revelation. Abalone looked down and chuckled. “I am sorry little one, but it was not anything within my power that ended the storm.” Abalone turned and stared back out into the endless sea, almost no trace of the storm’s anger left in it’s peaceful waters. “For that, I will have to wait for another chance...a day I will make sure comes very, very soon.”

#almost done!!#one more after this #took a break uploading bc I had to finish up some finals #but I graduate on saturday!!#the commencement is virtual but it's still cool to finish college #hope you guys are stayin safe

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 4 years

Note

Umm for the halloween requests, I would love it if you would do a siren/mermaid N'doul trying to convince his darling to 'marry' him or something like that

Ooo I really like this request.

Please bare with me as this is my first time writing N'Doul so I'm a bit nervous.

Voice of love

(yandere siren N'Doul X Female Reader)

You sat by the ocean and watched the light of the setting sun glisten on the surface of the sea as tears welled up in your eyes, it had been a week since your fiance's body had washed up on shore here but you couldn't get over it. You had been in an argument with him and he had left to go fishing with his friends to blow off some steam but he hadn't returned that night.

At first you didn't worry, he was just having a break, right? After a few days you called him but got no response so you called his friends, they hadn't seen him that night. Then you called his work, they hadn't seen him either. You began to fear that he may have ran away from town but then about six days after his body was found.

You remember how horrified you were when you were brought in by the police to confirm his identity. He looked almost indistinguishable with how torn up his body was, like he had been chewed up by a shark and spat out. All his organs had been removed and his eyes were gouged out. You felt every inch of your body turn to lead as you saw him.

You didn't tell anyone about what state his body had been but yet it seemed the whole town had found out about him. Old sailor men began to share ominous tales that were long forgotten, of creatures from the sea who lured sailors to their murky graves and feasted on their remains. It hurt you to say the least, people telling stories of tell tale creatures that weren't real and blaming said creatures for your fiance's death. In your eyes it was complete mockery.

You cried your heart out as you remembered how you both used to walk across this very beach, all those times you had taken for granted. You missed him, every morning you hoped that he would be sleeping beside you… that this was all just a horrible nightmare.

A sigh caught your attention that prompted you to look to your right hand side. Close to you a man that you had never seen before sat with his body partially submerged in the water. His eyes closed as he bathed in the cool ocean water.

"You seem so sad…" he commented as he turned his head in your direction, but did not open his eyes.

"Yes… I lost somebody very important to me last week" you explained as you looked at your feet, almost shameful… like you were the one who killed him.

"Is that so? It's such a shame that you are the one crying" he luled as the tide came in. The cool water grasing against your toes, only to retreat back into the depths in which it came.

The sound of the waves crashing entered your ears once more before the tide came in again, but then a freak wave that crashed into your body and tossed you around before swallowing you into its large body. You struggled to gain your bearings as the water pushed you in every which way. You desperately attempted to defy its will and return to land.

Once you crawled back to sandy banks you violently coughed as your body ridded itself of the salty sea water that you had swallowed. The back of your throat stung with the vile mixture of sea water and vomit clung to your taste buds.

You stood up and flicked your sopping wet hair out of your face and growled as you gritted your teeth.

"Why the hell did I even come here of all places! I'm so stupid! If I had just kept my big trap shut he would have still been here!" You screamed at yourself, not caring if the stranger or anyone else heard you. To you the pain and guilt of losing him was unbearable.

Another wave swept you off of your feet and dragged you in. However instead of falling victim to the current yet again, the ravenette stranger had caught you in his arms.

"You shouldn't waste your tears on that man (Y/n), he wasn't worth your time to begin with" the man said as he pressed you onto his chest with one arm as he combed his digits through your wet, messy hair. Your body froze, not just at his ominous words or that he knew your name but the feeling of his slick and inhuman lower body.

"How do you know my name?!" You exclaimed as you squirmed in his vice grip.

"Habibti I've heard your voice along this very beach many times, your voice is like that of my own… it's mesmerising" he cooed as he opened his eyes to reveal his full white eyes.

"It was a shame you wasted your sweet words on that pig" he continued as his tone turned sharp.

"He hurt you that night, so I did what was in our best interest" his words made your body turn ice cold. The thought of what he did to your lover shook you to your very core.

You thrashed in his grasp one more and succeeded, trying to run as fast as you could while screaming.

"Somebody, anybody, help me!" You screamed manically before another wave crashed in, dragging you out to the deep end as you tried to fight against it then another wave caught you off before forcing your head into a rock. Blood began to pool out and dance with the tide as darkness consumed you.

🐠🐠🐠

You groaned as you held your head from the throbbing pain on your head as you curled up to keep your body warm, only to hear the sound of chains scraping across the floor. You looked to your feet and saw that one of your legs had been chained, your eyes followed the links of metal until you could see there was a small anchor jammed between two large boulders. You tried to warm yourself up but you felt like you were made entirely of ice, unable to warm your body by any means. You were shaking like a leaf as you teeth chattered.

You began to fear that you might just die of hyperthermia until a light illuminated the cave you were trapped in from above. You looked up and saw a small opening in the roof of the cave that let the full moons light trickle down. You then looked around to see the cave better. It seemed like the only entrance was the small pool of water that indicated that you were inside of some underwater cavern. That monster must have taken you here. You had been lured in by a siren to your despair.

The blind monster's words stuck with you, how he spoke of your voice and how he was so deeply infatuated with as to killing your fiance. It made you sick to the stomach thinking about it.

You curled up into a ball, overwhelmed by this. It just seemed like it was too horrible to be real. You wallowed in self-pity until a waterproof material was gently placed over you before a kiss was planted on your cheek. You knew it was the monster and pushed him away.

"Stay away from me!" You yelled as you looked at the tanned creature with an expression that meant so many emotions.

"Why must you be like this habibti?" He asked with his voice trying to hide how much your words hurt him.

"You weren't afraid of me when you thought I was human, so why are you so afraid of me now?" He asked as his silver tail swayed across the ground, the sharp bony tips of his fin only millimetres from cutting your leg. He was like how the old sailors described.

"You killed my fiance! My life would have been so much better if it hadn't been for you!" Screamed hysterically as fresh tears spilt from your eyes.

"You claim to love me yet you took away the person that made me the happiest!" You continued as you pulled on your hair in frustration.

"Because I believed, and I still believe that I can make you happier" he replied as he shifted closer to you. You felt revolted as his hands began to roam your body.

"And you think having me chained in a cavern will make me happy?" You hissed.

"I knew you'd be as beautiful as your voice" he muttered, ignoring what you were saying as he relished in your features.

"We'll live the happiest of lives here as husband and wife" he stated as he pulled your chin up before pecking your lips.

"Husband?! Wife?!" You exclaimed, pulled away from him.

"Well of course habibti, we will be living our lives here after all, having children and growing old… well maybe just you" he spoke so sweetly to you as he held your hand.

At this point you had nothing to say, nor an emotion to show. You hid away in your mind, falling through your thoughts.

"And I promise that I'll love you just as much as I love you now," he continued.

"I'll take the best care of you my dear little wife"

#yandere jjba #yandere #yandere x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #n'doul #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere N'Doul #monster au #siren #spacy works

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revisionaryhistory · 3 years

Text

Three Days ~ 88

~*~Sebastian~*~

After the video call with my friends, I went back to the couch with a fresh glass of wine. I am blessed. Family, friends, co-workers, and a woman who loves me. None of us are perfect. I have people to call when times are tough. Today they called me, knowing I’d be struggling, only this time it was in a good way. Not long later Jessica called and invited me to dinner.

Pizza, beer, friends, and a toddler made for a good night. Giulietta thought I was much more fun than mom or dad. I guess they don’t let her use them like a jungle gym. When mom spoiled our fun and said it was time to settle down, I stopped the tears by promising to read her a story. Her choice. Like someone else I know Giulietta was asleep before I was halfway through. At this rate I'll never know how anything ends.

I sent the picture Jessica had taken to Emma. She'd wake up to it and with any luck send me back something fun. Which she did as soon as she woke up. Which was afternoon for me. Dinner break before I checked my phone. Emma struck the perfect balance between sweet and sexy. Her hair was messy with just her eyes peeking over a pillow she was hugging. Those beautiful green eyes I loved to look into. I couldn't see her smile so I could imagine it anyway I liked. The sweet one she often got right before she told me she loved me. Or the other one she got when she wanted me. I loved them both.

Our texts were broken up over the course of the day. Short bursts or long hours between. We talked most days at least for a few minutes. We talked about our days, shared memories, and talked about us. Maybe had phone sex. What didn't happen was whining about being apart or bitching about the time and distance. I didn't hang up feeling angry or guilty. I did my job, hung out with friends, relaxed during my downtime, and did a little shopping. Emma relaxed, did some studying, and practiced guitar. I missed her. She missed me. But we went on with our lives apart, making the best of the situation. It sucked, except it didn't.

I think this is the way it's supposed to be.

Thursday we wrapped for Paris. That was worth a party. Over the next four days production would pack up and move to Rome. I'd spend a day and a half on planes going from Paris to Dallas to San Diego. Then back to Dallas and on to Rome. The time zones were going to fucking kill me.

I called Emma when I got back to my room. I was drunk and grumpy. Hearing her voice helped. Seeing her face was even better. The way she told me exactly what she wanted to do to me and said all sorts of dirty things until I came... I wasn't grumpy anymore.

I had a headache when my alarm rang. I needed more sleep. Hopefully, I'd catch up on the flight. I was still debating going back to sleep and blowing off the weekend when my phone rang. Emma. It was the middle of the night for her. "Why are you awake?"

She laughed, "Making sure your drunk ass doesn't turn off his alarm and blow off the weekend."

I rolled to my side, mirroring her. "I wouldn't do that. I was thinking about it, but I wouldn’t do it."

"Such a professional. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better. Advil, breakfast, and a long nap on the plane and I'll be fine. How are you?"

"Good. Big plans laying by the pool with Mallory today."

"Sounds fun. I will be on a plane."

"Yes, but you will walk out of the airport into sunny California. Then spend two days being adored and laughing with your friends."

"That will be fun." I was honestly looking forward to that part.

Emma yawned. I smiled at her beautiful face, "You need to go back to sleep. I need to get showered."

She didn't argue with me. She was tired.

"Thank you for making sure I was up. I love you."

"I love you." There was my sweet smile.

I cannot begin to explain how very disorientating it is to board a plane at nine am, travel for fifteen hours, to arrive at three pm, which is only six hours after you left. I get to relive eight of the hours I spent on the plane. Only thing is, my body thinks it’s midnight. I slept some on the flight and I knew better than to go back to sleep. The closer to "normal" bedtime for this time zone I could get, the better I would feel tomorrow. Anthony and I had press then an autograph session, before the big Marvel event. Sunday was photo ops and an autograph session. Both long days where I was expected to be pleasant despite how inappropriate or rude fans got. Needless to say, a decent night’s sleep would be best for everyone.

I got to my room by four and quickly realized I couldn't stay there. I needed fresh air. I needed to breathe. I changed into shorts and took off to have a look around. There were several hotels in the area that hosted celebrity guests. We weren't all in one place. I'd requested a beach. It was a little farther from the convention center and I was confident I could wander unseen. Most people stayed right around the center since a lot of packages kept prices lower and being so close to the action was appealing. I wanted the ocean.

Down the beach I could see big boulders and took off that direction. I needed some flip-flops. The sand made me think of Emma. The water. The people surfing. The impending sunset. Breathing. I'd like to say the plan I was cooking up was a product of sleep deprivation. It wasn't. It had been bouncing around in my head since this morning as we lay in bed together thousands of miles apart. I'd dismissed it as selfish. On the plane, when sleep was impossible, and I was panicking, it didn't seem so selfish. I shoved the idea away because I knew it really was. The same reasons I didn't ask Emma to stay in Paris or go to Rome were valid here. Asking her to fly literally to the other side of the country to spend two days with me, asking her to amuse herself while I worked a chunk of that time, was peak me as a selfish asshole. The longer I sat on the rock watching the ocean the less of a bad idea it seemed. Maybe not less of a bad idea, but an idea I could give her a choice in, with the difference being if she said no, I wouldn't be angry or make her pay for not doing what I wanted. Growth in action. Hopefully.

I should check flights before I even think about calling. Or actually call, because I'm already thinking about calling. Might not be possible.

It was. I flipped my phone in my hands several times before hitting the buttons to call her. Apparently, I hadn't grown completely out of being an ass.

"I'm about to be an asshole."

Emma raised her eyebrows, "Uh oh."

"Yeah." I was going to do it anyway. "Fifteen-hour flight with little sleep because the turbulence over the ocean was a nightmare. I'm grumpy, exhausted, and lonely as fuck. I'm on the beach without you. I miss you. I can get you on a flight in the morning and if you come straight to the venue you'll be here before I have to do anything. It’ll be two days. I have to leave for Rome Monday. I know it's a shitty thing to ask, but will you come see me? So I can see you."

"I'd love to."

I was prepared to step up my game and her easy acquiescence caught me off guard. "You will?"

She nodded with a smile, "I miss you too."

I took a deep breath and let it out, "I was prepared to beg."

Her smile was almost a laugh, "While you begging sounds fun, it's not necessary. Do I need to pack anything dressy?"

"Fuck, I hope not. I have a pair of jeans, shorts, and sweatpants." It's amazing how much better I felt. I ran my hands through my hair. "You're flying out of JFK. Sorry."

"You booked the flight already?"

"Not many seats left. I wasn't risking it. You leave at seven, here at ten. My first thing is noon." I could see her grabbing her carry-on from the closet.

"I'm going to spend the night at your place. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

I scrunched up my face, "Underwear."

"You don't have underwear?"

"The one's I'm in and a spare."

"You may not like what I pick out."

"Emma, baby, I will wear yours as long as you deliver them."

"I think that's a little drastic."

"It's really not."

Emma laughed and touched her screen. I could almost feel her. I could definitely imagine feeling her. She almost gasped and broke into a smile, "I have an idea. I need to call Jill real quick. Give me five maybe ten minutes."

I nodded, "Okay. I'm going to lay here on my rock."

My rock was not soft, but I was very comfortable. I was very happy. The sky was blue and the sound of the waves was calming. I only had to wait until tomorrow to see Emma. It was going to be a good day.

A little more than five minutes later Emma was calling me back. "You've made my little sister very happy."

"Excellent!” I smiled, "How'd I do that?"

"We need to change my flight. Monday I'm going to Seattle pick up Olivia and take her back to New York with me. Then we'll meet up with the family in Chicago."

"That's perfect. You're not just coming out here for me."

She picked up on it. "Yeah, because seeing you isn't enough of a reason. You know I miss you, right?"

"I know, but I'm..."

Emma cut me off, "Stop there. I jump on planes to spend weekends on tour with dad. This is fun for me. Dad's doing sound checks, interviews, and charity shit while I amuse myself. You're not an asshole. I love this."

"You love this?" I did not love jumping on planes at short notice.

She was nodding as I spoke, "I love this."

"And you'd tell me to fuck off if you didn't?"

"Maybe, but this is your lucky day."

"No, my luck day was exactly eight weeks ago."

We talked for another ten minutes or so until she was loaded and heading into the city. We've talked while she's driving many times, but I wanted her to pay attention. The sun was going down where she was and it would be dark before she got to my place. I headed back toward the hotel and ordered room service. By the time Emma texted she was at mine and I was deep in a documentary, struggling to stay awake.

Emma ~ Safe and sound in your bed.

Naturally, she sent a picture. Sheet barely covering her breasts and one arm stretched out above her head.

I sent back a picture of me in the same pose, but making sure to show the empty side of the bed. I drew a red ✗ there.

Sebastian ~ Where you will be in my bed tomorrow.

Emma ~ Equally safe and sound Sebastian ~ More. Emma ~ I'm going to sleep. I will see you in the morning. Sebastian- Can not fucking wait

I was probably asleep before she was. By the time I woke up twelve hours later Emma was halfway here. I felt well-rested and excited for my day. Not just the Emma piece. Mackie and I always had fun together. I'd been sent the day’s itinerary. Noon was press, two thirty was an autograph session, and five was the big deal Marvel panel. We should be done by 6:30. Disney was having a party tonight. I had to make an appearance. It started at eight. That wasn't going to happen. Nine was more likely. I remembered it wouldn't matter because mice can't tell time.

At the venue I was led to a behind the scenes area. There was a large room, guarded by security, set with food and drink. Several smaller rooms encircled the larger area and some were labeled with company names. One of the largest was for Disney, with cloth wall dividers making several smaller rooms, where a stylist would be waiting to make sure Mackie and I looked presentable. Outside of the room was a loading area that was separated from the autograph booths by black curtains. I'd already ducked between them and gave fans nosing around my booth quite a surprise. Those were my favorite interactions. The ones without expectations. Security came over to make sure I hadn't been ambushed. I hadn't, but that was a perfect way to get away and I needed to talk to security anyway. I had them take me to the security office. Some lucky fans got a shot at a sighting of a Sebastian in the wild. I explained what was happening to the head of security and put Emma’s name on a list. They gave me a lanyard with her all-access pass and told me what door to direct her to. Security would meet her and bring her to me.

"About that." Call me paranoid, but I didn't trust they'd remember to have someone waiting for her. They'd call someone when she showed up and gave her name to the person with the list. "I need a Pearl Jam fan."

"Excuse me?"

"Someone on your staff is a Pearl Jam fan. Get them.”

He got on his radio, "Anyone out there a Pearl Jam fan?"

A voice came back, "Big Ed. He works all the shows up the coast."

I looked at my watch then back at the supervisor, "I need to borrow him for an hour."

His face read doubtful, but I was Disney. "Big Ed. I need you in the security office. Anyone see him? Send him."

A different voice, "On my way, boss."

Several minutes later Big Ed came through the door. I knew it was him because he was six-five and an easy two-fifty. He was his name. I held out my hand, "Hey, Big Ed. I'm Sebastian. Nice to meet you."

“You too."

"Walk me back to the guest area." We headed out and I waited until we were away from the office. "Do you know Ed's daughter?"

He smiled, "He has three. Which one?"

"The only one old enough for me to ask about."

"Emma. I've seen her at a couple of shows. I work security up the coast. Great way to see a bunch of shows."

I nodded, "I guess anything you miss at one you can catch at the next."

"Exactly." He pointed to his ear, "And you can always hear."

"Back to Emma. She's on her way here. I'd appreciate it if you would meet her and bring her to me."

"Is Ed coming?"

"No, he's," I stopped myself, "you ask her where he is."

He laughed, "I might take the long way back here."

"I haven't seen her in weeks. Not too long." Two is weeks. Barely.

Emma texted they'd landed. Big Ed changed where he wanted her to go and he headed in that direction. I sat down to wait for her to text she was here. I heard a familiar voice.

"Sebastian Stan? Is that really you?"

"Captain America?" I stood up and turned to the voice.

"Don't call me that. The pressure." Mackie hugged me, slapping my back much harder than necessary. "How jet-lagged are you?"

"Is that code for how much work are you going to have to do because I'm grouchy?"

"Maybe." We laughed.

"I had a good night’s sleep and I'm in a great mood."

"You seem twitchy. Why are you twitchy?"

"I'm not twitchy."

"Yes, you are. You're twitchy."

"If I'm twitchy it's because you're making me twitchy."

He pointed at me, "Ah ha! You admitted it. You're twitchy."

I rolled my eyes and scowled, "Emma's on her way. I might be a little twitchy."

"Here?" He pointed to the ground. With his eyebrows raised.

I smiled, "My girlfriend."

"Yeah, I got that. Plus, Evans told me."

"She’s not a secret." That felt good.

He asked and I answered. Talking about Emma is my second favorite thing having to do with Emma. First is being with Emma. In absolutely any way. My phone went off with Emma telling me she was here. I put my hand on Mackie’s arm. "Stay here. Right here."

#Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan Fanfiction #fanfiction #sebastian stan X ofc #marvel actor fanfiction

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Sweet, Like Daisies

Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi (Miruko) x Gender Neutral Reader

Story Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff / Humor

Story Warnings: Some cursing and flirting, but mostly just cuteness that could rot your teeth.

a/n: This is my art of the bnharem Discord server SFW collab, with the theme of Flowers! I decided to base my part around Daisies, which represent innocence. Rumi can be a cute and fluffy bunny just as much as she can be super fierce and I love her to death. This story also marks my beginning of writing for characters other than Bakugou! I will be posting them on this blog. If there’s anything you’d like to see, lmk! (♡´౪`♡)

Thank you so much to everyone in the server for this wonderful experience! I had so much fun and I can’t wait for the next one!

*｡Collab Masterlist *｡

--Full art piece--

“Let’s go, let’s go! Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out already!”

“Rumi, you gotta- oh damn, my legs are on fire! What is with this hill?!”

Coming to a stop as you pulled yourself up onto a boulder jetting out of the hillside, you flopped to sit onto your butt, rubbing your burning thigh vigorously. It was a miracle that you had even made it this far, your body not exactly used to these physically challenging hikes that your girlfriend just loved to drag you on. They were easy for her, considering that she was not only one of the top pro heroes in the country, but her quirk gave her incredibly strong legs and just overall physical strength. Her bunny legs allowed her to hop over any difficult obstacle, but you? All you could do was drag yourself along, barely keeping up with her by the skin of your teeth.

“Don’t be a wimp! You’re almost there!” Squatting down at the edge of her current perch, Rumi had that typical wicked and expectant grin on her face, a few loose strands of her white hair falling around her forehead and cheeks. “You got this, Carrot!”

“Carrot… Out of all nicknames, why did you have to pick that one.” With a huff, you pulled yourself up to your feet, using the roots and rocks to help you up the steep incline.

“Oh, because I could just eat you up, of course!” Rumi gave a teasing scrunch of her nose, one of her long rabbit ears giving a twitch in satisfaction of her response. You, however, immediately grew embarrassed, losing your footing. Scrambling to catch yourself, you got secure again before turning your glare up towards her, your face burning fiercely as she laughed at your reaction. She had a talent for making you so embarrassed you could barely stand it, but really, who could blame you?

Rumi was witty and intelligent. Confident and strong. Beautiful and caring. There wasn’t an ounce of timidness in her, which is not what people would expect when they hear the word ‘rabbit’. They would think quiet, reserved, innocent, fearful, and adorable. She was adorable, to be sure, but none of those other qualities showed themselves. Actually, they showed themselves in you.

Before you had met Rumi, you were very shy, easily overwhelmed and lacking in confidence. And still, somehow, this bright and extravagant woman had taken great interest in you, building you up higher and higher until you were finally beginning to see the sun for the first time in so many years. She pushed you to better yourself, to grow stronger and happier in your own skin, and although what she encouraged was hard, it was worth every moment and struggle.

Even if she could make you so flustered you’d want to go hide under a rock sometimes.

“Rumi! Stop that, don’t try to embarrass me while I’m climbing, I could fall!”

“You dumbass, ya think I’d let you fall? Never!” When you finally got close, Rumi reached down and took hold of your forearm, waiting until you got your own grip on hers before she helped to hoist you up. Her effortless strength astounded you as always, but you didn’t have much time to admire it, as she began to move down the past the instant you were steady on your feet. “C’mon, Carrot, move that tush!”

Sighing heavily in exhaustion, you forced your burning legs to walk forward, wiping your dirt stained hands on your similarly dirtied khaki shorts. “We’re almost to a resting point, right?”

“Yes. There’s a nice little clearing here, we can take a break!” Rumi lifted her arms up over her head, giving a drawn out and satisfied groan as she stretched. Nestled at her lower back, her white fluffy tail puffed out and shook in the same moment, bringing a smile to your lips. She was just so incredibly perfect, and you couldn’t help but feel so lucky.

After walking for a while in silence to enjoy the sounds of nature, Rumi came to a stop, starting to maneuver her way through the trees and brush. “We have to go off the path a bit. Watch out for spiders ‘n shit. And stinging nettle. I’m not gonna rub that ointment all over your body if you fall in it again!”

Remembering the painful experience of falling face first into a batch of stinging nettle the last time you went hiking, you were sure to observe your surroundings thoroughly before following her. The brush and twigs scratched and poked your legs uncomfortably, but your thick hiking boots helped you to trudge through it without much problem. When you finally breached the edge of the forest into the clearing, you had to squint a bit from the brightness of the morning sun, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes.

When your eyes finally adjusted, you found yourself standing at the edge of a large field of wildflowers and tall grass, which swayed with the cool spring breeze. It felt so heavenly against your hot and sweaty skin, and the brilliant view of the hills and trees in the distance brought a smile to your lips. Being out in the wilderness wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but you could admit that it truly was beautiful.

“How’s this for a resting spot, eh?” Rumi quite literally knocked you back into reality with a rough, playful nudge to your side, grinning up at you. “Will this do, your highness?”

“Hey, don’t patronize me like that! I get tired, I don’t have thighs of steel like you do.” You took her hand tenderly in yours as she grabbed it, your fingers lacing instinctively.

“Excuses! C’mon, let’s sit under that tree, it has shade.” Leading you forward as always, Rumi nearly had a skip in her step, her white hair bobbing in its high, messy ponytail. The tree that was chosen was a lonely one, growing out in the field alone. With all the extra room, the roots were large and snaked in and out of the ground like tentacles, and lush green leaves were at full bloom. It was comfortable and beautiful.

Shrugging off your pack, you rested it up against the tree trunk next to Rumi’s, pulling your water bottle out of the side pocket to take a healthy swig. “This really is a nice area, Rumi. How’d you find it?” Sitting down in the grass beside her, you offered her the water bottle, which she took.

“I’ve been hikin’ this trail awhile. It’s challenging, so not a lot of losers try to take it, only those that are strong enough.” After taking a sip of water, Rumi leaned her head back, squeezing the bottle so water trickled lightly onto her face and top of her head. “It is warm today, though! Especially for being spring.”

“Ah, well I can relate to those losers, I shouldn’t be on this hill either-- ACK, hey!” Suddenly, you were sprayed in the face with water, perpetrated by a very annoyed bunny.

“Don’t belittle yourself like that! Be proud, you killed that fucking hill!”

Grumbling from defeat, you ran your hand down your face to wipe the water away, glowering at your lover as she glared right back up at you with a pout that boarded on adorable. Calming down, you smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right. I should be proud of myself.”

“You should! My baby isn’t a loser.” Leaning up, Rumi placed a rough kiss against your cheek, her hand pressing against your other to make sure you couldn’t flee. You’d never want to, of course, so you let her punish you with the kiss, which was followed by a much more tender one before she set you free.

Smiling, you turned your attention to the grass around your legs, which was peppered with daisies and dandelions. You felt so calm and at peace in the silence of nature, and with your lover by your side, you were feeling quite… soft. That’s the only way you could describe your current emotions, so you soaked in it for a while, leaning back and supporting yourself with your hands.

After a while of peace, you leaned forward again to give your arms a rest, turning your attention back to the flowers around you. Carefully, you began to pluck the daisies out of the ground, making sure to keep their stem long. As if in a trance, you slowly began working on winding the stems of the flowers together, growing too focused on your work and the rustling of the wind to notice that you were being watched closely. In fact, you were so startled by Rumi’s voice that you jumped, nearly crushing your delicate flower arrangement in surprise.

“What’cha makin’ there, Carrot?”

“Erm… uh, a flower crown. I guess?” You brought both ends of the strip of flowers together to check the size, finding that it still wasn’t quite long enough to fit an adult head. “I used to make them as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve been near so many daisies.”

With another sly smile, Rumi leaned against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “Oooh, how grossly cute and sweet! Should I start calling you Baby Carrot?”

“W-what?! No, no, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me want to puke. Why don’t you call me something normal like… babe or hun.”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!” After giving you a playful nudge to the arm, Rumi turned her attention to the flowers around you both, plucking a daisy from its stem and bringing it up to her nose. “Y’know, for such a cute little flower, they have an awful smell. But damn, they’re tasty.” To your horror, Rumi chomped the entire bloomed flower head off the stem, making you yelp in disgust and cover your mouth.

“Rumi! That’s a wildflower! You can’t just eat it!”

“Hm?” Rumi looked up at you curiously, batting her long lashes in confusion. “I eat flowers all the time. I love their taste! They aren’t bitter to me at all. Restaurants sell them!”

“Y-yeah, but baby, they wash them first at least…” You felt your stomach churn as she picked up another flower, dousing it with water from your bottle. “Rumi! Don’t be a smart ass!”

“What, this one’s not for me!” Smirking, she held the now soggy and dripping flower up to your lips, making you cringe backwards with a sour expression. “Open up!”

“No way!” You covered your mouth with your hand, knowing that she would shove it in at the first opportunity. “There’s no way I’m eating a flower! At least not one that hadn’t been cleaned or anything properly! You have the stomach of a rabbit, you can handle it, I can’t!”

“What, you scared of getting worms?!” She poked you on the nose with the flower, leaning more against you. “You won’t get anything that’ll kill you!”

“I would, I just know it!” With a final wave of your hand, Rumi took the flower away, tossing it over her shoulder and back into the grass. “You wasted it?”

“Putting water on it made it soggy, I ain’t gonna eat that! Hey, show me how to make one of these!” Scooting around to face you, Rumi gazed down curiously at the still unfinished crown in your lap. “This shit is stupid; it has to be easy!”

“Well, it’s kind of hard, you have to be pretty gentle with the flowers. Here,” You plucked four daisies with a long stem, handing them to her before you plucked two more of your own. With detailed instruction, you showed her exactly how to twist and wind the stems, but you could see that she was already struggling with the delicate procedure. The frustrated pout was permanently plastered on her fair face, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed. Still, she was trying and as focused as she could be.

“How the hell are you doing that so perfectly?!” Rumi eventually snapped, leaning over you a bit to really see your almost finished crown up close. “Look at that! It almost looks fake!”

Laughing softly, you finished off by connecting the two ends of the crown together, holding it up a bit to look at it clearly in the sun. “I told you, I’ve done this before. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Here,” Turning to face her, you plopped the flower crown onto her the top of her head between her ears, making them flatten out backwards in immediate embarrassment and the tickling of the flowers against the sensitive skin.

Cheeks flushing dark, Rumi scoffed, glaring up at you as she resisted the urge to reach up and rip it off. “Get this thing off of me, I’m not some damn fairy!”

“Aw, but you look so adorable with it on.” You couldn’t resist the wide smile on your lips, especially as Rumi only grew more flustered, her ears snapping up in agitation and making the flower crown bend a bit, though it didn’t fall from her head. “It just makes you look so cute and innocent!”

“I’m not!” Rumi scooted herself closer so that she was sitting right up against your crossed legs, letting hers rest on either side of your hips. “Call me cute and innocent again and I’ll make you regret it!” As if it were a punishment, Rumi reached up and plopped her sloppy excuse for a flower crown onto the top of your head. The instant it landed, it broke apart, showering you with crumpled daisies. Unable to help it, you began to laugh, which only grew harder as Rumi began to rage and stutter. “Dammit! Fucking flowers! This is why I just eat the damn things! Stop laughing at me, Carrot!”

Covering your mouth, you gave a defeated shake of your head, holding your other hand up in defense. “I’m sorry, Rumi, it was just too funny! And so cute!”

Before you could even find the time to react, you were tackled down into the grass, immediately smothered by the feral animal before you. Latching onto her instinctively, you were at her mercy as she gripped your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker, even as your laughter continued.

“I told you! You call me cute, you’re gonna die! I-” Suddenly, the flower crown slipped off the top of her head and onto your face, framing it perfectly. The shock silenced you immediately, staring up at Rumi in surprise. She was just as perturbed as you were, but after a moment her wonder broke into a grin, chuckling as she released your cheeks. “Look who’s all cute and innocent now! Ya dork.”

Not bothering to remove the crown, you smiled softly, reaching up to caress Rumi’s cheeks tenderly. “No one in this entire world is cuter than you, baby.”

“Says the person with a flower crown on their face and daisies stuck in their hair. Hey!”

Rumi’s ears parted again as you took the crown off your face, placing it carefully on her head again to where it wouldn’t fall. This time, instead of getting angry, Rumi’s cheeks flushed again, and a cheeky smile stretched across her lips. “You aren’t gonna give up, are ya?”

“Never. Besides, innocence is a great look for you. Just please don’t eat anymore daisies.”

“Nah, flowers aren’t all that appetizing. I think I’m in the mood for some Carrot, instead.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #rumi #usagiyama rumi #miruko #mirko #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #miruko x reader #rumi x reader #personal #collab

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sockablock · 3 years

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Chapter 12: The Petals on Her Brow

“No.”

“But—”

“No. Close your eyes.”

“This is boring! Do I really have to—”

“Yes.”

“But—"

“Yes. You do. I will not tell you twice.”

— — —

Back in the cabin, Team Regular People had set up camp in the living room.

Only about an hour had passed since breakfast, but in that time, they’d already managed to turn the couches into literary chaos. On the coffee table, stacks of atlases and maps had been supplemented—then supplanted—by the hundreds of pages of chemistry notes that Nott was supposed to be preparing for the summer semester. Jester similarly had strewn all her summer homework onto the carpet. Fjord was half-slouched in an armchair buried nose-deep in a tome titled The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, looking for all the world like would rather throw himself into the ocean than keep reading.

And as those three languished in the rigors of academia, Caleb, Beau, and Caduceus were sitting at the kitchen table, hunting for Yasha’s mystery flower. So far, they had already eliminated almost everything growing in Eastern Europe, though Caleb had been convinced for a while that the flower was liverwort.

“Its name is ‘Leberblümchen’ in German,” he said. “We used to see it in our garden.”

Beau stared critically at the page, then turned to examine Yasha’s drawing. “Your thing isn’t pointy enough,” she said. “And it doesn’t have enough of those…stringy things in the middle.”

“Liverwort is usually blue, too,” Caduceus said. “Sorry, Mister Caleb.”

He sighed. “It is fine, perhaps we should move farther south.”

Beau pulled over another book and started flipping through the pages. “Do you miss being home?” she asked idly. “I know you haven’t been back there in a while.”

She mentally kicked herself when she noticed Caleb’s smile turn melancholy.

“Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean to remind you—”

He shook his head. “No, no, it is alright, Beauregard. I do miss it, of course. In many parts. Your beer in America is piss poor, for example.”

She immediately rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you say that all the time.”

“It’s a sticking point. Oh, and your trains are very bad—”

“Ugh, I know—”

“—and none of your restaurants know what eggs and soldiers is.”

“No one knows what the hell that is.”

“I don’t,” Caduceus piped up. “What is that?”

“It is a soft egg eaten with little strips of toast. It is the only way to eat toast,” Caleb said wistfully.

“It sounds like you haven’t been back in a while.” Caduceus dipped his head. “It must be difficult, being so far from your family like that.”

“Ah.” Caleb’s expression changed. It was subtle, but the softness in his eyes went still. “That is…I do not have family there, anymore.”

“Oh, I—Caleb, I’m sorry—”

He raised his hand. “It is alright, Caduceus. You did not know. It is not, ah….”

“He doesn’t go around advertising it,” Beau said.

“Well,” Caleb huffed, though not at all angrily, “that is certainly one way to put it. And…yes, to elaborate a little more, since the rest of these people already know, I…some time ago, something happened back home and I decided to leave. It…was not an easy choice, but inevitable, I think, in some ways. And while I do miss Germany, as I said, being here, with my friends, has helped me quite a lot. I am…I find that when I say ‘I’m okay,’ lately, I mean that more and more.”

“You should’ve seen him before,” Beau grinned. “He had such a stick shoved up his ass he could barely smile—though, uh, I guess that’s not surprising since—”

She shut her mouth. She opened it.

“I’m going to go back to staring at flowers now.”

Caleb snorted. He slid another book across the table. “Here, try this one,” he said. “Plants of Italy. If it is not in here, we switch to the Americas.”

She took it. “Thanks. Here’s hoping.”

“Let’s go for another thirty minutes,” Caduceus said. “Don’t forget, it’s important to stretch and take breaks.”

— — —

“Seriously, if you don’t let me, I’ll die.”

“You will not.”

“I will. I swear, I will. I have to take a break. Ten minutes. Five minutes! Sixty seconds, at least, or I drop dead.”

From her perch on the large grey boulder that lay at the edge of the woods behind the cabin, Yasha opened one eye and saw that Mollymauk was already lying down.

He’d rolled off his log and was even in the grass. She frowned. “You are not even trying.”

“I tried, but none of this makes any sense! Sit still and try to ‘feel myself’?” He made air quotes. “Yasha, dear, if that’s what you really wanted, I definitely would not be sitting still.”

He waggled his eyebrows. She ignored him.

“Controlling your energy instinctive,” she said instead. “It is tied to our ability to see and read auras. But because you do not know how to do either, I am doing my best to explain it to you. This is the only way I know how. You are really not taking this seriously.”

“You think I’m not taking this seriously?” He scoffed. “Do you really think I would put myself through any of this if I didn’t think I had to? Need I remind you that my family was attacked by those crazy bikers as well?”

“What? They are not your family,” she blinked. “We were your family. But you left us when you fell.”

He made a show of dramatic incredulity. “Then I also need to remind you, dear, that I haven’t the faintest idea what that means. I’ve got amnesia, remember? Accidental hellfire and devilish charms aside, I really am not a demon. Not culturally.”

She frowned. “Culturally?”

“And I’d really prefer not to dwell on it,” he continued. “As far as I’m concerned, as soon as I get this ‘aura’ nonsense under control, I’m going to go home and get back to living an extraordinary, charmed, non-demonic life.”

Her frown took on a confused note. “But…you are a demon. That is that.”

“No, no, you’re not getting it, Yasha.” He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “Listen to me. Whoever had this body before, maybe, maybe that person could’ve been a demon. But whoever that was, they weren’t me. They were just some stupid asshole who got buried in the earth for, for—I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t even care. Because it’s no concern of mine.”

“Er…buried?”

“Long story,” he shrugged. “Not important. What is important is that the person you see now, that person is me—Mollymauk Tealeaf. Fortune-teller, sword-spinner, lover of…well, lover. You aren’t going to get anywhere until you at least understand that. Alright?”

He rolled back over, crossed his arms on his chest.

“Besides, it seems as if—at least, from the context clues that I’ve pulled together myself—you’re missing a few memories too, aren’t you, Angel? Maybe you should try reinvention.”

Yasha was silent a moment. Eventually, “But I still know who I am. I did not lose that.”

“A pity.”

“It is…no, it is not a pity. It means I still have a purpose. And a past.”

Molly scoffed. “A past isn’t worth bragging about. The present, though, now the present is something.”

She titled her head. “Er…meaning?”

He waved a hand. “Well—well, okay, for example, can you honestly tell me that you aren’t enjoying what you have right now? In this cute little cabin? I still happen to be offended that you don’t think the carnival is my family, but you seem to have found one of your own, too. These people, here, and their delicious pancakes.”

“W—yes, the pancakes are good, but—"

“And those tiny little blueberries, delicious!” he sighed. “I haven’t had berries that sweet since…who knows?”

“You…like sweet things?” Yasha blinked. “Wait, go back, what was it that you said about family?”

“Oh, so you do care that you upset me?”

“I did?”

“Of course you did! My god, The Fletching and Moondrop might not’ve been the most functional of units, it might not’ve been the most traditional, but I certainly cared about them a lot. They found me when I had nothing, was no one. They gave me a home. They took care of me. They were my whole world, and trying to deny me that is basically like—it’s spitting in my face!”

Her gaze drifted downward. “I did not know. I am sorry.”

“Oh, cheer up, cheer up!” He scrambled upright. “You didn’t know, it’s alright, Yasha. God, have I just made an angel feel guilty? Isn’t it supposed to be your job to do that?”

Her brow furrowed. “I have been trying to do my job for two hours. I am supposed to teach you. You do not listen.”

“Because that’s boring. Sitting still is no fun.”

“I explained it already, Mollymauk. You are not just sitting still, you are centering yourself to connect with the world’s energy, then turning it inward—”

“Oh, I know! Why don’t I teach you, instead?”

She stopped. Her brow furrowed. “You…what?”

“Let me teach you something!” He clapped his hands together, eyes shining with glee. “Come on, come on, what do you say? It can be anything you like! Tarot reading!”

“No, what—”

“Alright, alright, it’s not for everyone, okay…how about sword spinning?”

She frowned. “Why would you do that?”

He rolled his eyes. “Why not? It’s flashy, exciting, and you can show off your skills! What, think won’t don’t have the dexterity for it?”

Something in Yasha bristled. “I am good with swords.”

“Then prove it! I’ll go back into the house right now and fetch the glass ones, then—"

The fog cleared; she caught on. “Wait, wait. If you go in, I am sure that you will not come back out.”

He laughed, completely unashamed. “Fine, fine, how about…oh! Why don’t I teach you to make flower crowns?”

She immediately opened her mouth in protest, but for some reason, somewhere along the line, the response that came out was a semi-choked, “Huh?”

“Flower crowns!” He grinned again, sensing weakness. “Come on, it’s great if you like flowers. Don’t tell me you don’t have those in Heaven.”

“I…it is called Elys—of course we have flowers.”

“Perfect! Do you have a favorite kind?” He leaned forward. “C’mon, I promise it’ll be quick, and then I’ll absolutely pay attention to the energy stuff. Just ten minutes! Only ten.”

She wanted to argue again. She knew she had to, it was her duty, her responsibility to tell him no way, to pick him up and throw him over her shoulder and sit him up straight and threaten him until he listened…

But what she said was:

“…fine. Ten minutes, and then we start again.”

“Yes!”

— — —

“Do you think he’d look good with pink instead?” Jester let a strand of Caleb’s hair fall from her hand and back onto his shoulders. “Caduceus could probably help, too. Couldn’t you, Caddy?”

“Sure I could.”

“I don’t know,” Nott rubbed her chin. “I mean, pink, don’t get me wrong, it’s a great color—”

“Thank you.”

“—but close to the original. If we’re going to do a dye job, it should be wild.”

Caleb counted to ten. “The ‘if’ in your statement should sound more hypothetical,” he said.

“Well, it’s only if you want it, Caleb. But you know, you’d look really cool with dyed hair!” Jester gushed. “How about a streak? Like Fjord? To be stylish?”

“I’m glad you think I’m stylish,” Fjord called from his armchair, Conventions now draped across his face. “But you know I didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Right, right—”

“What, really?” Nott glanced at him. “What happened? Don’t tell me it was a prank someone pulled.”

“Why?” he grunted. “Upset you didn’t do it first?”

“Yes! Of course I am!”

He sighed, and tugged the book off his face. He ran a hand through his short black hair and found the shock of white streaking through it.

“I got it in the accident. With the shipping company, remember? That whole thing with the engine malfunction. Big storm, boat went down, but, uh, I got rescued.”

“Yeah,” said Nott, immediately relenting. “I…remember. You nearly drowned.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “I noticed this grey streak after leaving the hospital. So…either a nurse used some real strong hair dye, or…I dunno, maybe it was from the stress?”

Jester very quickly reached over and squeezed his hand.

He gave a tiny smile. “It’s alright, it’s been a while since it happened. And you know, thanks to all the bad press they got after, they had to do something for me. So…it balanced out.”

“They sent you to college,” said Caduceus, remembering. “The scholarship?”

“Yeah. And an offer to work for them again after I graduate.”

“Hell no!” screeched Nott. “Are you kidding me? After everything that happened, do they really expect you to work for them again? Or even to go out on the water?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I really liked sailing, I…I miss it sometimes, actually. But I probably shouldn’t go back to them, that’s true.”

“What was the name of the company?” she demanded. “I’m going to leave them terrible reviews.”

“I don’t think you can do that for corporations.”

“Just give me a name, Fjord, it’ll make me feel better, if not you.”

He sighed and put his book back on his head. “U.K. Toa Shipping Industries. Have fun.”

“U.K.?” Caleb gently tugged himself free. “It is British?”

Fjord was quiet for a moment. “Huh,” he said. “You know, I don’t actually know. I always assumed so, but I guess I never asked.”

“That’s it,” Caduceus suddenly said.

They all turned.

“That’s what, Caddy?” Jester said.

“Fjord’s accent,” he grinned. He sounded incredibly satisfied. “You’re British now, aren’t you? I knew there was something different.”

A pause. Then:

“Oh my god, I completely forgot—”

“Nott—”

“That’s right! You did do that, Fjord—”

“Jester, I’m begging—”

“You told me you were Texan,” Caduceus nodded. “You talked all…twangy, before. In freshman year.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Nott all but beamed.

“I want to die,” Fjord moaned. “I want to die, it was—it wasn’t a phase, but…oh god…” He sunk down even lower in his chair.

“It’s a sweet reason,” Jester said supportively. “Real sweet.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Fjord, can I tell him?” she asked.

He vaguely waved his hand and Jester removed his book to tap him on the nose.

“Well, you see, Fjord did it partially ‘cause he was going to America and he didn’t want to stick out as the British kid. But he also did it because he wanted to remember his old captain. Vandren.”

“He was Texan,” Fjord mumbled. “And it wasn’t just, you know, remembering by itself, it was also…I dunno, I wanted to emulate him. He was…he had this way of commanding a room that just…you know.” He shifted awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t the…most confident person, before. When I was younger, especially. But putting on a mask, pretending to be Vandren, it…helped. Especially since nobody knew me here.”

Caduceus hummed his understanding, and nodded.

“What changed?”

Fjord’s cheeks colored. “Well…you know. After a while, I realized it was…pretending to be Vandren was preventing anyone from knowing me. The mask was comfortable, but it wasn’t…true.”

Caduceus smiled. “Jester was right. That is very sweet. I’m happy for you. And this accent isn’t bad.”

Fjord chuckled. “Thank you,” he tipped his book like a hat. “That is—thank you kindly, partner.”

“It’s tragic that you decided to be genuine,” Nott sighed, leaning back into a cushion. “Your southern accent was way hotter—”

“I got it!”

This outburst came from Beau, who had ended her break early to resume the search. Fjord all but threw himself out of the living room in pursuit of this new distraction.

“What?” he asked, sliding into the kitchen. “Is it a match?”

“Fuck yeah it is, look! Everyone, look!”

The rest trailed in behind him and gathered around Beau, who was practically vibrating.

“Trientalis borealis! The starflower!” she yelled. “Here it is—” she slapped Yasha’s drawing onto a page displaying a faded photo. “It’s a perfect match, seven pointed petals, a lot of yellow stringy stuff in the middle. And it’s tiny. Half an inch wide.”

“The starflower is one of the more common spring wildflowers native to eastern North America,” Caleb read, sitting down in the chair next to her. “The species name borealis refers to being from the north, although this plant is also distributed in the Midwest and the higher elevations of the southern Appalachian Mountains. Depending on latitude and altitude, starflowers generally bloom from mid to late spring into early summer.”

He leaned back, and gave Beau an amazed look. “You are right, this photo is exactly the same. You…you did it, Beauregard, that is…incredible.”

She punched the air. “Now who’s the king of nerds?! Wait, gross…”

— — —

“—little longer, you just need a second color. Something, hm…maybe blue. Or yellow. Preference?”

“P—what? Oh, uh…either is fine.”

Yasha and Molly had drifted away from their makeshift stools and into the forest, coming through the grass for summer blooms. Molly was flitting from flowerbed to flowerbed, plucking up stems and laughing when bumblebees had to spiral out of his way. Yasha had taken to sitting below a tree trunk, moving as little as angelically possible, so as to not disturb her crown.

Molly had placed it atop her head, and she could feel the petals on her brow. They were purple wildflowers. They were soft.

Yasha was always surprised by just how soft flowers could get—after all, they had to live outside all the time and there was so much danger, so much weather, it was a miracle they could grow at all. Still, it made her nervous to touch flowers; she was worried that her big, calloused hands would break them, maybe damage or ruin them somehow—

“Don’t be silly, love. You could never do such a thing.”

Yasha flinched, startled. “What?”

“Er…I just asked if you liked these,” Molly frowned. He’d flopped back down beside her and was showing off a hand of pudgy yellow blossoms. “Are you alright, dear?”

“Oh, er…yes. I am fine.” She blinked, and that whispered voice was gone. A second later, she wasn’t sure if it’d been there at all.

“In that case, look, look, what do you think?” He held the flowers up to the sun. “Nice, right?”

Yasha felt her face soften. A tiny smile crept into the corners of her mou—

“Hey, where’d they go? Yasha? Mollymauk? Where are you guys?!”

“I think I see them, through there—"

“Uh-oh.” Molly turned to Yasha and grinned. “I think we’ve been made.”

She groaned, and shut her eyes.

— — —

“—you understand how important this is?! We told you what the stakes were, I can’t believe you were picking flowers!”

“Hey! Why does everyone think I don’t understand anything? And anyway, Yasha was with me the whole time—”

“Oh, right, pin it on her, you asshole—”

“Fuck you, I’m not pinning anything on anyone—”

“Hey, hey, okay, calm down,” Fjord stepped between them and raised his hands. “Whoa, déjà-vu. Anyway, let’s just relax. Please?”

“She’s accusing me for no reason,” Molly said, hackles lowered but still with a bite.

“And he’s slacking off,” Beau glared.

“Yasha did say they agreed to take the break together,” Fjord reminded her. “And it’s the first day. It’ll take time to perfect the, uh, formula, right, Yasha?”

The three of them turned to look at Yasha, who was standing back with the rest of their friends, wearing an expression of absolute discomfort.

“Er…er…yes, right,” she said clumsily. “We just got…carried away.” She gave Beau a nervous nod. “Sorry.”

This was enough to soothe Beau’s foul mood. She sighed. “I don’t blame you, Yasha, I blame that one.” She jabbed a halfhearted thumb at Molly.

“Hey!”

“Just let her have this,” Fjord said.

“It’s not your fault,” Beau continued, ignoring them. “And—ugh, I hate being the bigger person—I get it. It’ll take time. You need breaks. I’m…sorry I freaked out.”

“Thank—” Molly began.

“Not you.”

“Well, It was worth a try.”

Yasha seemed more than relieved by Beau’s words. “You do not need to be sorry either, but thank you. And I will be more, ah, better next time.”

“Next time,” Molly grumbled. “Well, as long as she isn’t there, next time.”

“That is right,” Yasha tilted her head. “Beauregard, why did you come outside?”

From the back, Jester grinned. “Oh, Yasha, it’s so exciting!”

“That’s right!” Beau’s face lit up immediately, her annoyance at Molly all but melting away. “Guess what?”

“Er…what?”

She whipped out a book, small and bound with a soft green cover.

“I found it. Your flower.”

Yasha’s eyes widened. “You—what? You did? Where is it? What is it called?”

Her grin widened as she turned the pages. “It’s the Trientalis borealis, let me show you the picture—"

“Tren…” Yasha frowned in concentration. “The…three-foot…no, one-third—”

Beau actually laughed, then flipped the book around, pointing to a small picture beneath text. “Its common name’s ‘starflower.’ Sound familiar?”

“Star…flower.” Yasha hesitated. “That sounds…I’m not sure…”

“It would be ‘ʢƾʯɬƺƛᵿɿʑʖɕʚɬ,’ I think—” Caduceus said.

“Yeah?” Beau asked hopefully.

Yasha nodded. Her frown had vanished, and now she was staring at the book, nearly frozen, glued to the image of a little white flower. “…starflower,” she murmured. “ʢƾʯɬƺƛᵿɿʑʖɕʚɬ. You found it.”

“Hell, yes!” cheered Nott from between the others.

Yasha managed to tear her gaze away and this time, it fell on Beauregard.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “You…found it. Thank you.”

Beau’s cheeks flushed. She forced herself to stay still. “Oh, well, you know, it was…it…nothing.”

She did not resist as Yasha took the book, moving it closer to get a better look. “No, it is everything,” she said. “You did it.”

“Well—fuck, I mean, you know,” she scratched her neck and looked down, “I told you I would.”

“And you did. Thank you.”

“Now that she has found the flower,” Caleb cut in, both to Beau’s relief and disappointment, “we can start narrowing down a region. In fact, we already know from this book that the starflower is endemic to the United States.”

Yasha patiently waited for him to elaborate.

“That is, it grows near us. It is common on the east and west coasts, and is usually found in the early summer.”

He stepped forward, and with Yasha’s permission, flipped the page and showed her a map. Much of the US and Canada were blue.

She traced this with a finger. “Wait, then…does that mean I might have been in Iothia this whole time? Or right next to it?”

“That remains to be seen. It depends on how big Iothia is,” Caleb said. “And of course, again, exactly where it is. But we can use this map, and the geographical features we know, to compile a list of locations that would give you the most likely areas of Iothia.”

He gave Yasha a satisfied nod. “You are well on your way to going home, Engel.”

Her gaze fell back to the book. She turned the page to look at the flower.

Its name is ‘starflower.’ Isn’t that funny?

“Wha—why is that funny?” she said out loud.

“Hm?” Caleb cocked his head. “Why is what funny?”

She frowned. “The…name of the flower, I think. Or the…stars?”

“Actually, I was thinking that too,” Nott said. “Since, you know, you fell from the sky, right? And I guess these little flowers did too!”

Beau groaned. “So, this whole time, we were looking for a pun?”

“I think that’s irony, actually—” Fjord began.

Yasha blinked.

—and that whispered voice was gone…

When she looked up again, everyone was staring at her.

“Are you okay?” Jester asked. “You…is everything alright?”

—a second later, she wasn’t sure if it’d been there at all—

She shook her head, then realized that looked like a negative and managed to produce a weird, swooping nod.

“I am very happy,” she said quickly. “I am just…it is just a lot to take in. The flower. This…memory, it was…something important.”

Caduceus smiled. “Then it gets to be important again. This time, it’ll help you find your way home.”

Seven little petals. Bright like a star. Tiny enough to fit in someone’s hand.

She passed the open book back to Beau. She noticed Beau’s hand brush the flower.

“I…you are right,” she said, half to herself. “I think it will.”

“We all will,” Beau grinned.

—

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#critical role #critrole #cr2 #critfic #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #woof this is a MEATY chapter #i hope you guys enjoy!!#jay writes #beauyasha #a storm is blowing in from paradise #<3333333333 #text #long post

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helahades · 4 years

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James and the Siren

(Prewar!Bucky x Black/WOC!Siren)

Summary: There’s magic in Brooklyn before the war. She takes the form of an alluring Siren with an appetite for predatory men. While at the beach one day, Bucky gets involved in something that draws Her attention. Will he live to tell the tale?

A/N: This is the surprise project! If you’re dead set on Greek Mythology accuracy, this is not the fic for you. I’ve definitely taken some liberties.

Im not sure if I’m planning to do a part two, but if y’all show interest in this, I’ll consider it! Quick shoutout to @xbuchananbarnes for being a lovely angel and betaing this and encouraging me all the way. Also to @invisibleanonymousmonsters for being the sweetest and helping me put my scrambled ideas together. ♥️♥️♥️Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Two minor deaths. Creepy guy following someone. Injury. Blood mentions. Drafted, scared Bucky. Fighting. Drowning if you squint. Sad and confused Bucky. Overuse of cheesy water imagery. Me completely ignoring the reality of New York’s geography. I did what I wanted skskksk.

Word Count: 4.2k

—

Light.

Light like smooth honey.

Light like tree sap in glittering in the sun, spread across the sand in a broken mosaic, tumbling in waves to just barely provide the light Bucky needed to see his notebook.

The day feels so bright his eyes won’t open wide, and yet shaded in the trees, Bucky can’t see.

Shuffling with their branches, the leaves danced as the wind blew through them. Everything here seems to have its own rhythm, from the clouds stretching and inching across a leaden blue sky, to the filtered light leaping from one wave to the next.

These purities make Bucky feel like he can breathe, in a time that has been near suffocating.

He’s been sad.

Sergeant James. That’s all he is now. In a week or so, Uncle Sam will come to retrieve the body he is, and he will leave most things behind. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to serve—actually maybe he doesn’t. But is that so wrong?

He can’t understand why Steve wants it. He’s not foolish enough to think that punk has the same roots in Brooklyn anymore, not with Sarah gone, not with the way the guys around here treat him.. But Bucky can’t understand how Steve can be so…ready. He won’t say it to anyone, but he just doesn’t want to look Death in the eyes quite yet.

Bucky finds himself praying for some force to steal him away in the night. He dreams of things otherworldly.

Bucky finds himself trying not to think about how it will only be good news for his mother, who loves him, but whose wallet will breathe now that she’s not feeding a growing man along with her multiple daughters.

Bucky finds himself at the beach in Brooklyn, writing random things in a journal. He doesn’t know how to get the feelings out. He can’t write words on paper in a place his mother won’t eventually find and be heartbroken by them.

So he writes nonsensical things. He scribbles. He’s no artist like Steve, but it feels like it's enough. And he watches the glistening shores, waiting for what lies beyond—or at least what he hopes exists.

Jenny and Dot and Nancy and all the girls say there’s something big in these waters. Maybe it’s someone who swims. But maybe... it’s magic. Maybe it’s some sort of impossible magical creature that makes dreams come true.

That’s what they tell Bucky behind their giggles, but really they know She’s a protector.

—

One day, Jenny was walking home, and felt a strike of ominous energy in her heart. She had taken the long way, because she likes to see the clear waters of the ocean. Sometimes it feels like nothing else is clean in New York.

But as she came upon the beach she cursed herself for this choice, and hurried along the sidewalk that overlooked it all, for she felt someone walking towards her, and with intention. Hearing a chuckle from behind, that was closer than it should be, she realized the man must have noticed her change in body language and begun to advance upon her.

Step.

It took everything within her to refrain from breaking into a run, but she was wearing her fancy shoes, and wasn’t confident in her ability to run in them. She wonders if she’s out of normal step, and tries to walk to the beat of her heart, only to find that it’s racing. Clutching the sides of her skirts, she breathed in deep and let it out into the salty air. If he would hurt her, she certainly wouldn’t show him fear.

As if she could see into the time not yet passed, and knew all would be fine, she started to breathe again, tension beginning to unwind from her veins. Then a wave of it hit. It was power and reassurance, like a hug from a mother, like a proud smile from a teacher.

Jenny chanced a look behind her in the same moment. The man was frozen. He was desperately looking to the rocky shores in the distance below them, no longer pursuing her.

Somewhere inside was screaming to her that it was time to go home. But everything was heavy and light and fresh, and she was feeling the strange seduction of the waves too.

She took one—two scooping steps backwards in alarm when the man urgently began to move again. Only, he was stumbling down the bouldered bank in a rushed, yet somehow lethargic shuffle. As he finally got into the sand and clambered onto the rocks overlooking the ocean, a head breached the water!

Dark cascades of curly hair wrapped around and around in tight coils, and curtained the sides of her angelic face.

She was alluring, and glowing bright and faded, as living moonlight. Her skin was deep brown and cool, like driftwood or seashells, also washed by the sin she consumed.

Jenny would have been surprised at their breath holding skills, had her soul not already known the truth. For just a fraction of a moment, the being’s energy was focused on her, before the attraction released Jenny, and safety flowed through her and guided her home.

Then. They turned on the man, and he leaped into the depths.

No man bothered Jenny again after that day.

—

“—not a soul heard from that chump again!”

“It’s them canary lookers by the beach!”

Bucky sat and tried to process. The fellas that hung around the dance hall had all sorts of stories.

But he’s a smart kid. Smart enough to put two and two together.

When the girls all talked about this creature that supposedly lives in the beach waters, they speak of it—of her— as some sort of guardian angel, maybe a friend.

When the guys tell it, she’s a man eating broad that swims naked and eats innocent family men. Every guy knows another one who hasn’t come back after hearing a smooth song and wandering down to the beach like they were possessed with something wild.

A man of science, as Bucky believes himself, but a dreamer all the same, he wants to believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

—

Bucky can’t deny the beach has its magic.

He feels alone at school, at the diner, walking the streets, sometimes even with Steve.

At the beach though, things are alive and awake. He doesn’t understand why some guys can’t stand the place. Some guys, and Bucky sees no coincidence in it being the shadier ones, feel as though they’re being watched if they edge too close to the coarse sands.

To Bucky, there is energy, but it just feels like peace. Peace that is much needed as he reconciles maybe never returning home after shipping off. Notebook forgotten, Bucky looks out across the cerulean waters and tries to make out waves as far as he can before the blur of them mixes with the skyline. He’s already sweat out the gel in the front of his hair, and some of the growing strands are ruffling in the salty wind.

Just then, a couple guys from school waltz down the hillside behind him, and begin walking down the beach, laughing obnoxiously and making jokes all the way down.

Roy and Charles. Maybe the only two people Bucky's age in the city that match him for size and strength. They love to let the world know. They’ve given Steve one too many rough looks, and frazzled too many skirts for Bucky to be comfortable with them.

Roy has stick straight mahogany colored hair that never seems to be without a perfectly gelled style. He will abandon dates if he dances too long and fears he might have sweated it out. Standing just a bit taller than Bucky, he was stocky, blocky, and cocky. He will soon, like Bucky, outgrow the food budget of his parents.

Most kids from school think he’s been big since birth. He must have gone straight from baby to man, or been delivered here by a bone tired stork, some say. For all that muscle and size, there is not a bone of charm in him, or anything interesting about him. His skin is a dull beige. He tries to make up for all of this by being as loud and obnoxious as he can, filling up any room with his desperation.

Charles has all the charm. The whispers say that Roy follows him hoping to catch a personality. With loose blond curls and granny smith sweet eyes, he can turn on his games, and dames, in just an instant. He seems to have a permanent flush of the skin, enhancing the smattering of freckles across his nose. He is lean and lanky, and just as tall as Roy. Something about him unsettles Bucky. Charles seems to always be thinking something strange, and every girl who ever loved him has always regretted it.

They both thought it was a shame Bucky refused to hang with them, and held a strange reserved animosity towards him at the rejection. What are they doing here though?

They secretly feared the depths. It was only when Bucky noticed Roy’s sloshed stumbling that he felt dread wash over him. Once they reached the bottom of the hill, Charles patted Roy on the back and turned to leave, as if he had only come to escort his friend.

How strange, Bucky thinks.

In a moment of weakness, Bucky looked down, not caring to be caught watching the waves. He’s not sure why.

Bucky decides to leave the drunken Roy to his business. If he does something stupid wandering the beach, that is his own problem.

That is…until he saw Roy wasn't just relaxing or wandering. Jenny was further down the beach, standing just where the tide won’t touch her. Loose from her usual tight curls, her hair waved like a banner in the breeze as she stood watching every movement of the tide. She’s a liberated picture, like she found out how to breathe, like there’s nothing to fear, and Bucky would have kept admiring, had he not severely doubted the intentions of the meathead making his way closer to her.

He found himself on his feet, and followed after the young man. Now there were two suspicious gazes on Roy…and one on him.

Following carefully, he was slightly behind when Roy arrived at where Jenny was.

“Ya floozie,” Roy slurred before stepping closer, “think nobody knows what you did to my Uncle Kenny?”

Still watching the waves, Jenny made no indication she had heard him at all. Roy took a deep breath, like he was ready to yell. Before he did, she finally looked his way.

“What malarkey,” she spat, looking up into his eyes.

Stepping closer to the tide she kept her eyes on Roy, and noted Bucky looking at her just behind him, trying to decipher the intensity in her stare.

“No one did a thing to him that he didn’t already have comin’.”

Turning red, darkness bled into his stare as he lunged for Jenny. Running up just behind, Bucky tackles him into the water, falling in beside him.

Roy scrambles up into the sand and locks eyes with Bucky, standing bristled, like a cat given an unwanted bath.

“This ain’t your fight, Barnes! That tramp’s gonna learn!”

“Give it a rest Roy…”

“That lyin’ bat,” he continued to slur, “All these dames lie! Now somebody’s gotta pay, and it was this floozie who gave him up to—“

Roy vaguely gestured to the ocean and became distracted, considering something else for just a moment.

Then Roy turned to Bucky, who had put himself between him and Jenny. Shivering in the breeze that suddenly felt frigid, his eyes seemed to turn wild. Roy began to pat down his soaked slacks frantically, as if fearing he lost something in the gritty tide.

On alert now, Bucky prepared for a fight, moving himself in closer to block him from getting to Jenny. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Leave him be, Bucky,” she pleaded, only now stirred by the thought that Bucky could be hurt. She didn’t know if her protector could stop this.

Bucky couldn’t stop to consider why Jenny didn’t fear for her own safety, because with a brash guffaw, Roy’s desperation blew away as he found what he had been looking for. A glitter of a threat gleaned off Roy’s shiny blade, and he seemed to sober up, drunk on something else. Bloodlust.

“Walk away, Barnes.”

“You first.”

Bucky started to take a deep breath of the salty air in preparation, but had to cut it short when Roy lunged. Instinctively throwing one arm out behind him to shield Jenny, Bucky left himself open.

One free arm and a bad stance in the uneven sand wasn’t enough. A burst of pain and heat stretched across his chest in an instant.

Grunting, he pulled both arms forward and shoved Roy. Hard. Roy stumbled, but managed to keep on his feet, throwing a crossbody punch that Bucky knocked out of the way, using Roy’s momentum against him. Using that opening, Bucky swung a fist into Roy’s unguarded side just under his ribs. That took him down.

From the ground, Ray scooted back as Bucky advanced on him. A wet blob of chunky sand sailed through the air, and Bucky coolly side stepped, evading it. It would have directly hit his chest wound.

Looking like a cornered animal, Roy stopped scooting away, and when Bucky got close enough, he swung his foot up right into Bucky's groin.

Bucky was down too now, and after catching his breath, Roy was the first to get back on his feet.

Trying to fight the fire in his nerves, and the rough sand tearing at his chest wound, Bucky yelled with all his might as he writhed in the sand.

“Jenny, RUN!”

She backed up in a daze, from where she had been watching with worry, and the gravity dawned on her, just a moment too late. Turning abruptly, having no choice but to take her eyes off Roy, her chunky heels pounded sloshing wet splashes through the soaked sand.

Four of her strides were one and a half of Roy’s. But now Bucky was up, and he ran after them both, intending to tackle Roy and wrestle the knife away.

It began like a change in the air. A frequency finding itself, humming with the tune of the moon pulling the tide, and adjusting to its prey. It was like the evening cicadas, until it rounded into something lovelier. It had a sonorous resonance, like the cry of a damsel worn by a widow sneaking around her net, waiting for entanglement.

It was rich like a church choir and seductive like sin. Both Roy and Bucky were frozen upon hearing the melody. The familiar feeling of protected comfort washed through Jenny, but she immediately felt dread at realizing Bucky was also in a trance at the siren song.

“Not him,” she breathed.

Then, She appeared.

The melody grew into a spiked honey of sorts, warming with command. The men straightened from their tense stances, and inched ever so slowly toward the water.

Her song grew sharper, and she rose higher from the water, scales like gold scattered on her arms, sensuality running down Her neck and chest like flowing oil.

Finally, Jenny ran to Bucky and threw herself into his arms with a shriek, pressing her cool palms to either side of his face.

“Not him!”

The song swallowed her pleading. It had been seen. The girl. Two men after her.

First it was Roy. He took big steps forward, Her allure magnetic to sin, and the ocean swallowed him suddenly, as it does.

She flipped back then, slick abdomen curling over the surface before a long emerald tail followed, entering the water silently, sending ripples that Bucky reached out to touch. Still looking desperately at Bucky's greying eyes, and trying to hold him back, Jenny began to cry.

“Oh please, Bucky, please. I never would wish this on you. I'm not sure what you’re hearing, but don’t listen! You’re too good.”

Bucky wanted to breathe. He’s been so tired. The waves call him.

When She returned, Jenny felt it before seeing it. She studied Jenny. Torn lovers had, on occasion, tried to rescue bad men from the curse. For just a moment, she reserves judgement, wondering if this is that. She studies Bucky. Sees the gash across his chest. Puts it together. Then she’s gone.

Bucky falls to his knees and the clouds seem to wash out of his vision, his familiar diamond eyes blooming back to their shade. He lets out a shaky breath, and Jenny throws her arms around him. They stay there, on their knees, startled in the sand, before Jenny pulls herself up, a funny look on her face as she looks at his wound.

“Y-You stay. Stay right here, James! I’ll get somebody!”

When the tide washes in and back, the sand and shells part to reveal the knife. Bucky snatches it up and presses it into Jenny’s hand without thinking, looking at her intently.

She shivers at the silent message, but knows it's not her who needs the protection. Then she runs, hoping to find someone who will know what to do. She wonders as she leaves... what life will be with Roy dead and gone. She wonders what Becca Barnes will say if she sees her at school if life never returns to her brother. Will Bucky ever tell what happened today? She sure won’t.

As Jenny disappears into the distance, Bucky realizes the clouds have eaten up all the direct sunlight. He stares in the direction Jenny left, still there in the sand, trying to process what happened. Where’s Roy? Is Jenny alright? Can he die from this cut? Would that save him from the war?

He absentmindedly looks to the water, before gasping and freezing in place. The creature is back. It had saved Jenny… sure. That was good. Bucky never liked Roy, but now he’s dead, maybe, and that’s a lot to reconcile. Now it’s staring at him again. Will it—She—sing him into another spell? What does She want?

Her eyes melt from whiskey brown to honeyed gold in an instant as she assesses his pain. Twirling where she is, she lies on her back in the water, with the slow fanning of her multi gem colored tail propelling Her languidly across his field of vision. This allows Bucky to take in Her captivating form. Now that She doesn’t deem Bucky a threat, everything about Her is warm from Her eyes to the undertone of Her skin. He can’t believe what he’s witnessing, and considers the fact that he may have died already.

Stretching Her arms behind her head, she paddled both arms in full motions until She reached the cool, flat stone She had been searching for. It extended from the sand into the sea, and was littered with weeds and grit from the high tide. With a casual turn of Her wrist, the debris parted down the middle and slid off into the water.

Twisting towards the flat rock, She planted two surprisingly human hands onto it and pulled Herself gracefully and easily atop it. Lying flat on Her stomach, She curled her golden emerald tail up toward the sky, then further toward her body. Finally deciding she was comfortable, after lying her head on crossed arms, she regarded Bucky again.

He felt a pull towards Her, like a silk lasso on his heart, but it was softer than before. She wanted him to choose. It was, of course, impossible for him to resist Her, and he was up, walking the stretch of the beach it took to close the distance. Coming to kneel next to Her, he was closer than he had ever been, and was transfixed by Her beauty. He also noticed that she seemed to be wrapped up in the water's surface tension, for it seemed to glide over Her skin, even when She was out of it. It parted for a moment though, when Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and She, once again, grabbed ahold of his soul.

A wave of sedative-like calm overtook Bucky, and he only watched as She assessed him. Rising off of her arms, Bucky rose too as She reached for his chest and placed gentle, and surprisingly warm, hands on either side of the gash. With sweetly sure and surely piercing golden eyes still on him, She rolled her palms against his chest, pulling sand from him and his skin back together in just a moment. Then, with a final palm in the center, where the gash had previously been, Bucky’s face twisted into something comical as he felt something beneath the newly healed skin shift, and the pain disappeared.

Propping Herself on one sinewy arm, She reached for his face with the other, gently pressing a palm to his cheek, gently curling Her fingertips, and rubbing small motions with a gentle thumb. She appeared somber for a moment, then almost mournful as She looked into his baby blues, reading something he couldn’t see.

“Thanks,” Bucky said softly, wincing at how croaky he suddenly sounded.

She hummed a small confirmation and it flowed easily through the air, like the sound of bells or wind chimes. Pulling Her hand back from his face, She lowered Herself mostly into the water, crossing Her arms at the edge of the stone and gazing up at him.

He had so many things he wanted to say, but the surrealism of this moment was making abstractions of his thoughts. It hits him. There's magic in Brooklyn, and there had been all along. It feels right, but wanting to believe, and being made to see no other truth are two different frames of mind. He is still having trouble processing. Is Roy dead? Is Jenny okay?

Will Steve be okay without him? Bucky knows he’s strong, hell, Bucky would say Steve is stronger than him. Steve has got enough determination and courage in one finger to win several wars. Put him in a healthier body, and that punk would be unstoppable.

Actually, Bucky is sure everyone will be okay when he leaves. He’s glad about that in many ways, but in many others, it just makes him feel like a grain of sand, respective to the universe. He knows everyone will be okay. Bucky is just not sure about himself.

As if She could read the focus of the lines of stress etched into his face, Her gaze focused intently, and She began to think of how to word Her sentiments. She reached to hold his icy hands in Her warm ones, and Her eyes darkened to an amber brown as She grew less playful, gently somber.

“Everything changes, James,” his name was a lullaby from Her mouth, and he could not help but to listen, “that sort of…”—

—she paused thoughtfully, trying to find the word.

“That sort of fluctuation,” she continued, “is the only thing that is sure in anyone’s existence.

Some part of him was melting into ease, but he still was not sure what she meant.

“You will not be afraid. Not forever. Even once you have...left. Nothing will stay as it is.”

She looked, sort of at him, but more so beyond, as if there were some greater picture, as if she could see his soul.

“What is forever, is the gracious creature you are. And not a soul can take that from you, James. Not a soul.”

She raised one hand out of his gentle grip, straight to his heart, where his old wound once was. Now calm, and entirely transfixed, he realized, She has now healed him twice. Then She pulled away.

He feels the finality of the moment, he tries to rush and say something else.

“R-Right now they say it should only be a year...or two. But then I’ll be back.”

Eyes falling shut, She pulls in and releases a slow breath, and Bucky can't tell if it's the water of the sea gliding down Her cheeks.

“You will be back. And we will see each other again.”

Reaching a hand to his face, She presses a couple of fingers to his forehead, and his eyes flutter closed. He slumps into a sleep, and before he falls, She raises both hands, bending the energy behind him, and She slowly lies him down in the sand.

“Goodbye, for now, James,” she whispers, trying not to mourn the pain of his future lifetime, before disappearing into the depths.

—

“—ucky, Bucky, Bucky, JAMES!”

Jenny shook him with all her might, tears threatening to spill. When Bucky’s eyes open, he becomes distressed too.

“Heya doll, easy! I’m alright, I swear it.”

She gasps in a shaky breath before they pull each other into a long hug. A few seconds in, he looks over her shoulder and out to the depths. Trying to get a grasp on the events of today, he hopes it all wasn't a dream. Then, he remembers Her words.. He suddenly feels warm, emotions rushing back in a flurry.

He gets the sudden ache to see his family, to see Steve, to go dancing. After all...

Nothing will stay as it is.

—

lovely darlings who are very inspirational:

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171 notes · View notes

number5theboy · 3 years

Text

The notes I took while reading the comics are under the cut. These are not my ordered thoughts, just thoughts I had while reading. I’ll write something more coherent a bit later, once my thoughts are sorted better than these

APOCALYPSE SUITE

Diego repeatedly stabbed a Caravaggio, which just personally offends me. Also @ Reginald the fact that you left a Caravaggio in reach of your KIDS, who have KNIVES, is just as insulting. Someone save that Caravaggio since anything and anyone else is beyond saving

“Inexplicable resemblance to an Ingmar Bergmann extra” askjdsgbkdsbhsd Gerard sir that is so oddly specific. Is Reginald an Ingmar Bergman fan. Is that what you’re trying to tell us. Or is Klaus just a silent movie type

Right off the bat, the comics universe is so much more interesting than the show universe. They have boxers who beat up squids like??? Give us an adaptation with the comic world, preferably animated

The kiddos were all born to “mostly single women” dsbksdgbksdgbdsg??? Did the magical alien thingamajig check their relationship status first?

“Inventor of The Televator, The Levitator, The Mobile Umbrella Communicator, and Clever Crisp Cereal” dgdsghsgdhjsdkjhg Reginald names his inventions like Dr. Doofenschmirtz from Phineas and Ferb

Also the page that reveals/introduces Reginald is SO good, just the panelling and the action tells you so much. There’s dead bodies and excavations and masks in addition to text. It’s great.

“The Day The Eiffel Tower Went Berserk” is an EXCELLENT hook to a story

“It’s your Eiffel Tower, it’s gone insane and must be stopped at all costs.” Dksgdhjbkgsdhjbdsghjb the show could never

This comic keeps disrespecting cool art. Why is it doing that to me. Don’t let the musée d’orsay get robbed

Okay, luther came through for me on that

Dsdhlsdghlgsdhldsh the siblings arguing while the Eiffel Tower is falling apart around them had me cackling

“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE” dsbdgsbgsdbdgsbklsd okay diego

“And just as I suspected – ZOMBIE-ROBOT GUSTAVE EIFFEL!” hello I need at least three comics of back lore on this. Why does luther have that hunch. Why is Gustave Eiffel a zombie-robot. How did we get here. Please I want answers

The missing line on the ‘e’ of ‘touché’ makes that dramatic moment way less dramatic and more funny ngl

Oh but you can be bothered to put the accent aigu on ‘séquence’

“And while you lost the Eiffel Tower, you saved Paris.” I am laughing too hard by this point. How dare this be a barely brushed upon adventure. Please I need to know more about zombie-robot Gustave Eiffel

Te Ben-robot makes me emotional and “Only my father calls me Number One”? ouch.

Also for the record, I love Luther’s design SO much

“Hello your father is dead. Please audition for my orchestra for revenge. Many thank. Bye.” Okay Conductor, whatever floats your boat, I guess

“and something worse is coming” dbhsdghbjgshbjsgbjhkgf okay Five, whatever floats your boat I guess

Allison immediately coming in with the ‘I know everyone blames you for Ben’s death, Luther, but honestly, who the fuck knows?’ dsbgbhdgshbsgdhkbj

Klaus has such an entrance and I honestly didn’t know that Claire was a comic character

The introduction to the apocalypse comes SO the fuck out of nowhere, but grumpy little Five with the ‘I knew I shouldn’t have run away from home’ speech bubble? Awesome

Also just genuinely interesting that Five truly hated Reginald and was aware of these feelings

The apocalypse introductions in the show and the comic are going for different feelings but they are both equally devastating, which is a nice touch

Also someone give show! Five a sword

Comic Diego is a fuckboy, and that’s obvious from a hundred paces

Apparently Grace makes me sad in any incarnation

Okay but the backdoor of the Icarus in the show is lifted straight out of the comics

I love the Conductor’s design so much, and his introduction is so good

Oh my god someone get a language checker, The Orchestra Verdammten doesn’t even make grammatical sense

I love the Conductor, he is so extra and just the concept of a piece of music that destroys the world…….it fucks so hard

This comic just throws wild shit at you and expects you to keep up

Just read the instructions Dr. Terminal gave his bots. Is he okay.

Why does Dr. Terminal want to eat Finland. Please I need to know what’s going on in that head of his

Gabriel Ba has excellent comedic timing

Five is a bitch and I love him

Diego hiding in a haunted house…….what a drama queen

Klaus is so fucking funny oh my god

Diego is so hilariously bitter towards Vanya. No need to destroy her like that, asshole

Love how Diego single-handedly brought about the apocalypse. What an idiot.

Dr. Pogo deserves the world

The Vanya reveal of powers is a bit. Uh. Underwhelming. Love the Frankenstein set-up tho

The art, man……..it’s so good

Comic Luther is SO savage holy shit

I love you Mister Conductor, but please stop butchering languages I know, thanks

I knew he was gonna die, but I am still hurt. Please bring him back, he’s the best character in this

“I don’t know where to begin…But I suppose I should start with the Kennedy assassination.” Okay five you drama queen

Allison is a bitch, and I mean that as a compliment

Honestly these Five and Vanya are made to be enemies, it’s great

HELL YEAH YOU GO KLAUS

This wraps up a little too nicely. Where did the moon boulder go

DALLAS

Sagfdghjasfkjghdsfjhksfhkj it opens with a ‘by the way, I’m still dead’ from Pogo

I can’t believe TUA directly inspired Night at the Museum 2: Battle of the Smithsonian

No seriously, I knew about sentient monument Abraham Lincoln but this entire scene FUCKS

Dsbksgdbhsgbhksgdhbkj Celebrity Surgery, the big popular reality TV show, I’m laughing

Luther and Klaus are both such messes jeesus, even if Klaus is coping better

Allison immediately kidnaps Vanya and exposes her to all the horrible shit she caused?? Dbgbhjdgkjhbgdhkj I love these versions of the characters

While Show!Diego is Walmart Batman, Comic!Diego is Walmart Rorschach

I thought I got the gazelle speech but now I’m just confused

It literally is an epiphany AND WHAT GOT HAZEL AND CHA-CHA SENT ON HIS ASS I’M

CACKLING

Also that one wordless Hazel and Cha-Cha panel……..so good

Five is a communist lmao Diego

Luther and Diego arguments are tedious in both versions

I hate the Marilyn Monroe ape scene. With a passion. It is so cursed

Also show Hazel and Cha-Cha were partners that grew apart. I think comics Hazel and Cha-Cha are in love

I am every killer ever. That is one cute puppy.

Also Klaus and God is great in every universe

Dsjfghjdhjdgjhbdgbjhkdbkjhgb Five’s face when he is outfoxed

Why do dream!Luther and Allison have am ape cyclops daughter

I love the Luther&Klaus dynamic

This is just a remix of Watchmen

I have no idea why they suddenly know what Five is up to, from the corpse of a Commission agent. What.

Wait now they can use corpses as time travel devices. What.

Okay, Klaus accidentally blew up the world. Cool?

I am so confused

Now Diego Klaus and Luther are fighting vampires in Vietnam and hurling mummies through the bush. Okay.

So Pogo always knew what kind of disasters they’d turn into? Dskbgdsbkhsdgbkgsdkh

THE WHOLE JFK ASSASSINATION ARC IS AMAZING

HOTEL OBLIVION

Hotel Oblivion really just presents a cockroach on a plate to you, huh

Reginald’s aesthetic is seriously so much cooler than he deserves

EVIL IS THE NAME OF THE FIRST PART OF HOTEL OBLIVION?!? I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE MR. AIDAN GALLAGHER

Five is a hired gun now?!? Man, that dude cannot catch a break ever

“TV is a healthy alternative to dying” esjkdsgbkgskbhdsgkbes

Who is Luther’s Japanese bro?!?

Also I just kind of really like the Luther&Diego dynamic in the comics

The show robbed us of Allison helping Vanya recover. It robbed us of Vanya getting injured in the first place, so what recovery, but still. This is incredibly sweet

God, all the villains in this universe are so intriguing. Except for Knock-Off-Adrian-Veidt, I keep forgetting that Perseus exists

“I’m a haunted house.” Is so metal as a self-descriptor

What the FLYING FUCK is Klaus doing there

Giant chicken?

The Enterprise???

“What are you doing?” “A report. I’m really interested in capitalism.” Djhsgjgskjvsevksevjesvjsefjv maybe Diego is right and Five is indeed a communist

“I know what it feels like to be unloved. I was born an object, and never treated as anything but.” It really was that bad, wasn’t it?” “For the both of us, yes.” B R U H

Evil Grace is fun

I love Allison and Five and their relationship so much

Five is interested in the stock market??

I am way too emotionally invested in whether Murder Magician and his baby make it out of there

Oh I CANNOT believe their romantic loves for their SISTERS is what unites them. I hate this.

What on earth is going on with Perseus and the flying head of Medusa

Alive Ben 😊☹

I am an idiot for not making the Perseus-Medusa connection sooner.

The Eiffel Tower now looks like the love child of the actual Eiffel Tower and the Atomium.

And now the Dr. Manhattan knock-off is here

God I love Allison so much

What the fuck is Pereus on about

Terminal eats a zoo

Scientific Man borders on plagiarism I’m sdhbgshsvjhksfvjksdjhkdsj

No no no no no not the Murder Magician

This whole baby arc makes me so soft

HELL YEAH LUTHER

Well this ended on a cliffhanger

#Lizzie reads the comics #i mean i made the notes might as well share them #i made progressively less because i really got into some of the parts of dallas and hotel oblivion

24 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke: Wish

Act 2 angst and unresolved sexual tension between Fen and Rynne Hawke, anyone? That’s all I have to serve today. Also desire demons. 👀😳

~8000 words somehow, IDK. Read on AO3 instead.

*************************************

Varric sat back with an enigmatic smile. “And that’s why that one specific manhole in Lowtown doesn’t lead to the sewers — and in fact, doesn’t lead anywhere at all. Whether it was filled in by workers hired by the merchant’s wife, or by magic, well…” He shrugged and lifted Hawke’s flask to his lips. “That’s anyone’s guess, really.”

Hawke let out a low whistle and poked the campfire with a stick. “There’s a good lesson in that, actually: there’s no fury like that of a merchant’s wife whose husband keeps a pair of underpants for all the women he slept with during his travels.”

Fenris snorted and rested his folded arms on his knees. “That is a pretty specific lesson, Hawke.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Should be easy to follow then, no?” She winked at him, and he awkwardly returned her smile before dropping her gaze.

Two months had passed since he’d made the egregious mistake of sleeping with her. She had told him that things could go back to normal, and true to her word, she’d gone back to acting as though nothing had happened between them.

Fenris was grateful for this. Truly, he was. He only wished that he was able to act as normally around her as she was acting around him.

In truth, that wasn’t the only thing that Fenris wished for. Every night, after Hawke cheerfully bade him farewell in the wake of their daily misadventures, he would sit at the table in his derelict mansion and wish for all sorts of things: that his life had been different. That his night with her had been different — that his mind hadn’t decided that that was the moment to present him with fleeting flashes of the memories he’d lost and reminders of the gaping abyss that was his past.

Every night, Fenris would sit at the table and wish that he was different, and that he could… that he and Hawke could… but no. There was no point wishing for that, because he was incapable of giving her what she really wanted. The most he could hope for was to be able to emulate Hawke and act like everything was fine.

Merrill’s voice interrupted his melancholy thoughts. “That was a scary story, Varric, but it wasn’t a proper ghost story.”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “Who said it needed to be a ghost story?”

“Hawke did!” Merrill said. “She specifically said ghost stories. Didn’t you, Hawke?”

“I did,” Hawke said affably. “Ghost stories only seem appropriate, right? Don’t get me wrong, Varric, I still liked your story!” she said quickly. “It was nice and chilling. I’ll certainly be throwing out my trophy-underpants collection when I get home.”

Varric and Merrill laughed, but Fenris frowned. “Appropriate? What do you mean by that?”

Merrill answered before Hawke could speak. “Because of where we are, of course,” she said. “The Veil in this part of the Wounded Coast is thinner than in other places.”

Fenris’s eyebrows shot up. “The Veil is thin here? How do you know that?”

“You can feel it,” she said. Then she eyed him doubtfully. “Well, maybe you can’t. But Hawke and I can. It’s easier to do magic here.”

“Easier for your beloved demons to see you here, you mean,” he retorted. “Is that why you asked Hawke to bring us here?”

Merrill wilted and rolled her eyes, and Hawke shifted closer to him. “Fenris—”

He scowled at her. “You knew about this potential danger and you didn’t mention it?”

“Don’t be angry at Hawke,” Merrill scolded. “It was my idea to come here.”

He gave her an arch look. “And why exactly did you want to come to this cursed place?”

“Because it’s pretty,” Merrill said.

“Because it’s pretty?” he demanded. “You brought us to a place of danger because it is pretty?”

“It’s not dangerous!” Merrill exclaimed. “And it is pretty! Did you even watch the sunset? That lovely green tint comes from the Veil, you know.” She lifted her chin belligerently. “Not all magical things are bad, Fenris.”

He curled his lip and prepared to retort, but Hawke cut in with a little laugh. “Hey now, the Veil might be a smidge on the thin side, but it’s fine. Nothing bad has happened, right? We saw a lovely sunset and had some lovely stew. We’re having a lovely time, aren’t we?”

Her smile was hopeful, and Fenris eyed her with rising exasperation. “Just because nothing bad has happened yet doesn’t mean nothing will.”

“It won’t,” she said. “I’m sure of it. I’m absolutely positive! I swear on Varric’s chest hair—”

“Hey,” Varric complained.

Hawke blithely went on. “—that nothing bad will happen before we pack up to leave here tomorrow.”

Fenris shot her a skeptical look, then settled back. “Fine. But if any misfortune befalls us, I’m holding her responsible.” He jerked his chin at Merrill, who wrinkled her nose at him.

“Nothing bad will happen,” Hawke said firmly. “I promise.” She took her flask from Varric and handed it to Fenris, then smiled at Merrill. “All right, Merrill, you owe us a ghost story now.”

“Oh good!” Merrill said. She settled herself more comfortably on her picnic blanket and looked at them all with wide eyes. “You’ve all probably heard stories of the Brecilian Forest, far to the east: that the only people allowed inside are elves, and that anyone else who enters the forest mysteriously goes missing. Well, I can’t say if that’s true or not, but have you ever heard of a sylvan?”

Hawke shook her head, and Merrill smiled and continued her tale, but Fenris could only listen with half an ear; the rest of his attention was on the hairs at the back of his neck, which were standing at attention. Now that Merrill had mentioned the thinness of the Veil, he could swear that he felt what she meant: it was like a faint creeping feeling in the air, even though nothing was there. Or as though the air was slightly heavier here than it was in Kirkwall. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

He didn’t think his worries about demons were unwarranted, though. Hawke and Merrill had never seen the kinds of demon summonings that Fenris had seen. On more than one occasion in Tevinter, he’d witnessed careless apprentices being twisted into monsters due to their inability to control the demons they conjured, only to have the incidents brushed under the carpet by a magister’s whisper and a few carefully placed pouches of coin. Demons were not a small and inconsequential threat, and it behooved Hawke and Merrill both to remember that.

“Hey,” Hawke murmured.

He looked at her. Varric and Merrill were chatting on the other side of the fire, but Hawke was eyeing him, and his heart did a little flip; her expression was soft and sympathetic.

He dropped her gaze and picked idly at her red scarf on his wrist. “What?” he said. “What is it?”

“If you’re that worried, we can go home,” she said.

His heart squeezed again, this time with a bit of guilt. Truthfully, he would have preferred to go back to Kirkwall. But Hawke wouldn’t have agreed to this trip to the Wounded Coast if she didn’t really want to be here. She had just had that argument with Carver at the Gallows yesterday afternoon, and escaping Kirkwall with all its demands for her attention was one of her favourite ways to cope…

He roughly ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he said reluctantly. “We don’t need to leave.”

“Are you sure?” she said. “If you really think it’s unsafe…”

“It would be equally unsafe to travel through the wilderness when it’s this dark,” he pointed out. “If we aren’t attacked by demons here, it would be bandits or murderers looking to bury their deeds as we walked along the coast to get back to Kirkwall.”

“Don’t forget the giant spiders,” Hawke added. “Wolves too, probably.”

He gave her a sideways glance, then huffed. “Those as well, yes.”

She smiled, then stretched her legs out and wiggled her bare toes toward the fire. “We might as well make the best of it, then. Can I toast an Orlesian guimauve or two for you?”

“Orlesian guimauve?” he said blankly. “What is that?”

“Ooh, you’re about to find out,” she said with relish. A moment later, she was spearing a soft white object with the stick she’d used to stoke the fire and holding the stick over the fire.

Nonplussed, he watched as Hawke carefully rotated the guimauve over the flame. It caught on fire once, but Hawke didn’t seem particularly concerned; she quickly blew out the flame and continued to toast it, and by the time she removed it from the fire, it was nearly melting off the stick.

She held it out to him with a smile. “One toasted guimauve for the most handsome elf in Thedas.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s burnt.”

“That’s the best part,” she said. “Go on, try it.”

He gingerly removed the hot guimauve from the stick and took a small bite. It was incredibly sweet with a hint of vanilla, and exactly as Hawke had said, the burnt part added a depth of flavour that really did enhance the taste.

He looked at her. “This is good.”

She beamed at him. “It is, isn’t it? I like how the burnt parts are bitter. Makes the sweetness all the sweeter. Orlesian sweets are all about mixing the bitter and the sweet. There’s this kind of Orlesian cake I’ve heard about called la misère exquise, and I think it’s actually got deep mushroom in it which seems at first glance like a terrible idea…” She continued to chatter while she speared two more marshmallows and held them over the fire, and for a time, Fenris was able to put aside his worries as he listened to Hawke and watched her toasting the Orlesian treats. By the time Hawke, Merrill, and Fenris were getting ready to go to sleep, he was almost able to ignore the faint creeping feeling at the back of his neck.

Hawke stood up and stretched, then kissed Varric on the forehead. “Goodnight, Varric. Holler if you need us.”

“I will,” he said. “Either that, or some unlucky idiot will.” He patted his crossbow, which was resting against the boulder he was sitting on.

Hawke grinned at him, then turned to Fenris and batted her eyelashes. “You sure you don’t want to share a tent with Merrill and me?”

He gave her a chiding look. “Kind of you to offer, but no. I’ll enjoy my tent on my own.”

“I’m sure you will,” Hawke said lasciviously. She winked at him, then crawled into the tent she was sharing with Merrill.

Fenris wryly shook his head, then entered his own tent and settled into his bedroll. He folded his arms behind his head and sighed, then gazed up as the fabric of his tent as he waited for sleep to claim him.

A few metres away, he could hear Hawke and Merrill chatting quietly in their tent. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could hear the warm cadence of Hawke’s voice. Her voice always had this characteristic warmth to it, like she was always on the verge of laughing, and when her words were muffled and soft like they were right now, he could almost imagine that she was murmuring in his ear.

A heavy feeling filled his chest. Sharing a tent with Hawke, having her whisper in his ear with that laughter-laced voice… That was another thing that he might wish for. He could add it to the list of all the other things he wanted, but couldn’t – or shouldn’t – claim.

He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was in Hawke’s house.

He glanced around curiously, then padded into the front foyer. To the left, a wash of flickering orange light poured through the doorway: the fire in her study must be lit.

“Hawke?” he called. He made his way toward the study, but stopped dead in the doorway.

Hawke was kneeling on the carpet in front of the fire, and she was naked.

Fenris’s heart seized. The fire was indeed lit, and it was painting her bare golden skin in a multitude of sunset hues. Her knees were parted and her spine was arched in a perfect bow, and her fingers were clenched on her thighs. Her chin was tilted up, and her expression was one of complete rapture: eyes closed, cheeks flushed, her raspberry-red lips parted as though to accept a kiss…

A kiss from the huge, shadow-coloured demon that was clutching her by the throat.

“Hawke!” he bellowed.

The demon looked up at him then disappeared, and Hawke fell forward onto her hands. “Fuck,” she gasped. She looked up at Fenris with wide and haunted eyes. “Fenris? What – why are you – why—?”

“What are you doing?” he yelled. “You nearly let that – that creature possess you!” He ran over to her and grabbed her hand to pull her up.

“I didn’t – it didn’t look like a demon,” she stammered. “I thought… f-fuck.” She ran a hand through her hair, and Fenris realized with a pang that she was shaking, but it wasn’t enough to soften his anger.

He gripped her arm. “How could you let a demon trick you?” he demanded. “You know better than this, Hawke. I know you are stronger than this! How could you–”

“I thought it was you, all right?” she snapped. “I – fuck. It looked like you, Fenris. It even sounded like you – or… not exactly like you, but enough to… oh Maker’s fucking balls.” She patted her pinkened cheeks and shifted her weight uncomfortably, and Fenris was forcibly reminded of the fact that she was still naked.

He swallowed hard and forced his eyes to remain on her face. His heart was pounding in his throat and his ears, and he refused to believe it was from anything other than fear. “You let this demon seduce you?” he said sharply.

“I didn’t know it was a demon!” she yelled. “I told you, I thought it was you. It was saying all the right things, and I – fuck, I should have known better, but I…” She trailed off and nervously rubbed her throat, an old habit from when she used to wear the red scarf that she’d tied around his wrist, and Fenris’s gaze automatically fell to her hand.

Then his eyes tracked lower, to the budded nipples of her breasts. Then lower still, to her waist and her navel and the curls between her legs and lower still, down to the telltale sheen of moisture between her thighs…

She was wet. She was wet and ready, and a wave of heat tore through his body. Ashamed of himself, he turned away from her and rubbed his mouth. “Why was a demon even here?” he said in a strained voice. “Is someone trying to trap you?”

“That’s possible,” Hawke said.

She didn’t sound tense anymore; in fact, her voice sounded like it usually did: warm and relaxed and curled with laughter. Fenris glanced at her in surprise, then frowned; she looked completely at ease, despite the fact that she was still nude.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you not alarmed by this? If someone tried to trap you, there could be more demons in your house.”

“There could be,” she agreed, and she took a step toward him. “We should track them down. Should we start in my bedroom?”

He stumbled away from her. “Wh-what?” he stammered.

She took another slinky step toward him. “My bedroom. Come on upstairs with me.” She reached out and gently tugged his collar.

It was the sort of playful tug that she’d give when she made him laugh about some stupid thing or another during their daily travels, and a pang of longing swelled in his throat. He backed away from her. “You’re not Hawke,” he rasped.

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean? Of course I am. Look at me.” She ran her palm along the length of her body, and Fenris’s eyes unwittingly followed the path of her hand as it skimmed over the dusky peak of her breast and the golden planes of her belly.

He forced his eyes back to her face. “You’re a demon,” he accused.

Her face twisted with hurt before becoming a smile again, and the play of emotions across her face was so convincing that Fenris faltered. “I’m not a demon, Fenris. I promise,” she said. “Look at me. Don’t I look the same to you? Don’t I smell the same?”

Sandalwood and sleepy skin: she did smell the same. Another wash of longing and regret swelled in his chest, and he shook his head, but Hawke stepped closer still.

“It’s me, Fenris,” she murmured. “It’s just me.” She ran her palm down his chest.

That clinched it. This had to be a demon. The real Hawke wouldn’t touch him in such an intimate way, not after what had happened between them.

He shoved her – it – away. “Demon,” he spat.

It opened its mouth. “Fenris!” Hawke shouted – but the shout was coming from behind, not from the creature standing in front of him.

He whipped around in alarm. Hawke was standing in the doorway to the study, fully clothed and scared-looking.

Hawke. A rush of relief rendered him dizzy for a moment, but he couldn’t be distracted.

He whipped around to face the demon again, but it was gone. He curled his lip in disgust, then turned to Hawke, who was hurrying toward him.

“I thought I heard you in here,” she panted. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“Out of where?” he demanded. “Out of your mansion?”

She shot him a funny look. “We’re not in my mansion. We’re in the Fade.”

He gaped at her. “What?”

“We’re asleep, obviously,” she said. “I don’t really know how we’re here together, but I’m not going to complain about being stuck in a nightmare with the most handsome man in Thedas.” She gave him a cheesy grin.

He rubbed his forehead in frustration. “How… how is this possible?”

Her grin became a grimace. “Well, it, um. It probably has something to do with the, um, Veil being thin…”

He stared at her with growing anger. “I told you,” he snapped. “Did I not tell you something terrible would happen?”

“Nothing terrible has happened yet!” she said defensively. “And if we get out of here quickly, nothing terrible will. Now come on, let’s get moving.” She trotted out of the study, and Fenris took a deep breath to calm himself. Demons were attracted to strong emotions, so he needed to be as neutral as possible so he wouldn’t attract any more.

He made his way to the door and stepped into Aveline’s office, but Hawke wasn’t there. He frowned and turned around, then began making his way through the city guardsmen’s barracks, but Hawke wasn’t in any of the rooms here. How had she gotten away from him so fast?

“Hawke?” he called. He listened for her response, but he couldn’t hear anything; it was as though all sound was muted here, or like it was echoing through a fog or a piece of heavy velvet, and Fenris listened carefully as he made his way toward the Viscount’s office.

Finally, he heard something: the strains of music and laughter and talking. The Hanged Man, he thought in exasperation. Of course that was where she’d gone. He should have looked there first.

He pushed his way through the tavern doors, and a blast of music and noise greeted him, along with a familiar sight: Hawke was dancing on one of the tables while the rest of the crowd cheered her on.

She looked up when Fenris came in, and her face lit into a beautiful smile. “Fenris!” she shouted, and she jumped off of the table and ran toward him. “There you are! I’ve been waiting for you!”

He backed away from her. “Stop,” he barked.

She stopped in her tracks, and her face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“How do I know you’re not a demon?” he said.

Her eyebrows jumped up. “Why would you think I was a demon?”

“Because I was attacked by a demon that was wearing your face,” he hissed. “Before, in your study.”

Her expression softened. “You were attacked by a demon that looked like me?”

He stared at her. Her expression was sad and sympathetic and wistful all at once, and only now was he realizing the depth of what he’d just admitted by telling her that his demons looked like her.

He shoved his fingers through his hair, and Hawke held up her hands. “Okay,” she said soothingly. “Okay. This is fine. We’re going to get out of here. But Fenris, we have to be careful, because this entire tavern is full of demons.”

He lowered his hands. “What are you talking about?”

“The patrons,” she said in a low voice. “They’re all demons. This isn’t the real Hanged Man, you know.”

“I know that,” he snapped. “But I thought…” He trailed off. To be honest, he hadn’t really had a chance to think about it, but now that Hawke had pointed it out, the patrons were all paying him and Hawke a little too much attention for his liking. Worse yet, when he made eye contact with them, he realized that their eyes were black: a flat, empty black.

A ripple of revulsion ran down his arms, and Hawke lowered her voice even further. “It’s all right. We’ll just, um, start walking in a very relaxed manner until we get out of here, and we can figure out what to do next.”

He nodded stiffly, then followed Hawke as she started to ease her way through the crowd of demons. They headed toward the stairs that led to the inn part of the Hanged Man, but when the reached the top of the stairs, it was to find themselves in the main area once more.

Fenris scowled, and Hawke let out a little laugh. “Ah, fantastic. A tavern that never ends. Varric would be thrilled if he were here.”

“At least one of us is fortunate enough to be spared from this torment,” he said snarkily.

Hawke grimaced. “Well, for lack of a better plan, let’s keep going.”

“Why don’t we simply leave?” Fenris demanded. “The door is right…” He trailed off. In the place where the door should be, he instead saw the stairs to the inn area.

He turned around to find the door, to no avail; it was still the stairs to the inn. “Venhedis fasta vass,” he muttered.

Hawke laughed again. “Foreign swearing, my favourite. Are you sure you’re not a demon trying to seduce me?”

“Not the time, Hawke,” he bit off. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs.

They made their way up the stairs and into the main room again and back toward the stairs, and Fenris’s frustration continued to rise. But as he dragged Hawke through main room of the tavern for the third time, he started noticing something alarming: the demons were starting to trail after them, and they were clamouring especially closely to Hawke.

He frowned at her. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “What, er, what do you mean?”

He paused and studied her face suspiciously; her cheeks were pink and her eyes were bright. Whatever she was thinking about was making the demons particularly interested in her.

He scowled at the demons, then stepped slightly closer to her. “They are drawn to you. Whatever you’re thinking about, you need to stop.”

She laughed again, and this time she sounded distinctly nervous. “That’s a little bit difficult when you’re holding my hand.”

He looked down; he was indeed holding her hand.

His heart thumped, and he released her. “You’re thinking of me?” he said faintly.

Her cheeks pinkened even further. “It’s nothing bad, I swear,” she said hurriedly. “It’s… it’s nothing you don’t already know.”

She wants me, he thought. That’s why they’re following her. That’s what is tormenting her.

He swallowed hard, then shot a glare at the spirits. “Come on, Hawke,” he said. “We need to find a way out of here.” He ushered her in front of him to keep the spirits away from her back, and they moved toward the stairs again, but his own thoughts wouldn’t stop hounding him now.

I want her, too, he thought as they ran up the stairs. That was why his demons looked like her. That was why he was tortured by the thought of her naked body, and why they were stuck in this nightmare together.

A flare of longing and hopeless regret bloomed low in his belly. Then Hawke suddenly stopped, forcing Fenris to bump into her.

She stumbled, and he grabbed her arm to balance her. “Be careful,” he warned.

“Um, Fenris,” she said.

“What?” he said testily. Then he followed her gaze, which was behind him.

He recoiled. The demons were clamouring thickly behind him, and their eyes were horrible soulless pits of black.

“What are you thinking?” Hawke said in a hushed voice. “They’re pretty fucking interested in whatever it is that you’re thinking about.”

I’m thinking of you, he thought. I can think of little else, and it is torture.

He tore his gaze away from the crowd of demons and looked down at Hawke. “I’m…” He trailed off as he took in her face. Her lips and cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling as she breathed – heavy breathing like when he was pushing her legs apart and feeling her sleek and tight around his fingers. Heavy breathing like when he was trailing his tongue over her nipple and pressing himself into the cradle of her hips. Her lips were parted like when she was demanding his kiss, like when she was pulling his hips toward her and brushing her nose against his thigh before–

She suddenly pinched his arm.

He flinched, then glared at her and rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

“You looked like you were about to kiss me,” she said breathlessly.

He scowled at her plump raspberry lips. “I was not,” he muttered.

She smiled slowly at him, but her words were serious. “They’re torturing us,” she said. “Using our thoughts against us. We can’t let them win. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to enjoy my dirty thoughts in peace instead of having them exploited by a bunch of demons.”

Dirty thoughts. A twist of heat flared low in his belly, accompanied by a perverse wish to know exactly what kinds of dirty thoughts Hawke was having. Was she thinking about the taste of his skin? The scent at the back of his ear? Because that’s what he was thinking about now: the sandalwood scent just behind her ear and at the side of her throat, that spot on her throat that would make her mewl like a cat in heat when he nipped it with his teeth –

“Fenris!” she said loudly.

“All right!” he blurted. “You’re right, you’re right. We need to move.” He grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the stairs.

They kept moving in silence, shoving their way past the thronging demons and moving through the endless space of the Hanged Man toward the stairs that led to nowhere, and Fenris’s frustration continued to grow — not with the unchanging landscape of the Fade, but with Hawke. At some point while they were walking, she had laced her fingers with his, and her thumb was sliding along the edge of his thumb in a hypnotic rhythm that shouldn’t have been in any way arousing, but somehow still it was.

“Will you stop?” he demanded.

“Stop what?” she said.

He clenched his jaw. Why did her voice have to sound like that – all soft and breathless like she was coming down from a climax?

Hawke in the midst of climax, her neck arching and the blissful sounds she made… His cock pulsed at the thought. He hunched his shoulders defensively and shot the demons a venomous look. “Stop… rubbing my thumb,” he muttered to Hawke. “It’s distracting.”

“Fine, sorry,” she said. She started to release his hand, but Fenris tightened his grip.

“Don’t let go,” he said.

Her eyebrows rose. “So I can’t rub your thumb, but I have to keep holding your hand?”

“You can hold my hand without rubbing my thumb,” he gritted.

“Why do I have to hold your hand at all?” she said.

“I am afraid to lose you in this crowd,” he said. “We should stay in contact.”

She let out a little laugh. “Hold your hand, but on your terms. Got it.”

Her tone was unusually brittle, and Fenris frowned at her. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing,” she said. “There’s no problem.”

He scowled. “Speak your mind, Hawke.”

She let out another distinctly mirthless little laugh. “Trust me, you don’t want to hear it.”

“As though that has ever stopped you before,” he retorted.

She stopped and shot him a hurt look, and a pang of guilt penetrated his irritation and his lust. But before he could apologize, she spoke in a hard voice. “Fine. I just… I want you, all right? I think about you all the time, about… about fucking you and lying in bed with you, and I – it’s just unfair, that’s all.”

His heart twisted, even while the perverse heat in his blood simmered higher at the thought of being twisted together in her bed. “What’s unfair?” he asked faintly.

“This!” she said. She squeezed his fingers – fingers which were still laced with hers. “Holding your hand but not being allowed to stroke it. Standing next to you and smelling you and not being able to… to fucking touch you.” She broke off and looked away from him, and he studied her tense jaw with a painfully pounding heart.

“I’m…” He paused; there was a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard before speaking again. “Hawke, I am… I’m sorry.”

She sighed and glanced at him. “I’m not blaming you, all right?” she said in a softer tone. “I just – I wish things were different.”

Another pang of regret jabbed its way through his lust. “So do I.”

She gazed up at him wordlessly, and whatever she saw in his face was enough to make her expression melt into <em>that</em> look – the look of wistfulness and hope that indicated more clearly than any possible words that she was in love with him.

His entire chest felt like it was throbbing. He forced himself to take a breath in an effort to quell the pain. Then Hawke took a step closer to him. “Fenris, do you think…”

She was so close now – close enough that their chests were almost touching. Close enough that he could count her every eyelash. Close enough to kiss…

He ought to move away, but he couldn’t seem to move his feet. He swallowed hard. “What?” he croaked.

She took a deep breath. “This is just a dream, right? How bad would it be if we…” She trailed off and nervously licked her lips, and he hungrily eyed the enticing sheen that her tongue left on the pillows of her lips.

“We… we can’t, right?” she asked. “Having sex would definitely be a bad thing to do with a bunch of demons hanging around.” She flicked a glance at the demons, which were still crowded around them like a thick fog.

He ignored the demons; he was too preoccupied by Hawke’s plump lips and her sweet woodsy scent and the tempting, tantalizing, torturous thought of ravishing her in the Fade. He stared at her lips and remembered the feel of them pressed to his and tried to think of something to say.

“We can’t,” he finally said, with great difficulty. “Not even if we… if we want to.”

She nodded and dropped her gaze to their hands, which were still twined together. For a long, loaded moment, they simply stood there hand-in-hand.

Her thumb was caressing his thumb again, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. He gazed at her face, at the dark curves of her eyelashes and the slight parting of her lips, and with every slow stroke of her thumb, the very air between them seemed to thicken. He stared at her subtly parted lips and he felt the careful caress of her thumb tracing over his own, and he wished that things were different.

She met his gaze once more. “Do you want to?” she said.

His breath stalled in his lungs. Her voice was soft and velvety like it would be if she was talking softly into his ear, and the answer to her question was so clear that he couldn’t believe she was asking.

Of course I want to, he thought. There is nothing I want more than you. He couldn’t say that, though, because he couldn’t give her everything she wanted — everything she deserved. It was exactly like Hawke had said: it was unfair and he wished that things were different, but he was incapable of giving her any more.

He pressed his lips together to stop the words from leaving. If he told her how he really felt, it would only hurt her more than he had already done.

But his body wasn’t listening to his mind. Without his permission, without his conscious say-so, his free hand was rising up toward her face.

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, and her eyes fluttered shut. She tilted her head to the side, and Fenris skimmed his knuckles slowly along the side of her throat.

His thumb smoothed over the edge of her collarbone, and her lips parted in a silent plea. He stared at her lips, her infinitely tempting lips – those perfect plump raspberry-red lips that he’d so enjoyed kissing and nipping and sliding the tip of his cock between…

He inhaled shakily. His pulse was rising again, beating steadily in his throat and chest and down between his legs, and his hand was rising once more to brush his thumb over the precious plumpness of her lower lip.

Her breath hitched, and the tiny sound of her pleasure nearly made him dizzy. “Fenris…” she breathed.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t dare. If he spoke, he would break the stillness of this moment alone with her.

And they were alone, he realized vaguely. The demons were gone, and he and Hawke were in her bedroom in Hightown.

Her bedroom: the place where he and Hawke had spent that one perfect, terrible, torrid night together. The place that Fenris thought about every single night as he lay on his stark mattress in his dank lowtown mansion. The place where he’d savoured the taste of her skin and the taste of her pussy and the exquisite feeling of filling her up until they were both crying out their pleasure to the canopy of her bed…

Her voice interrupted his heated reverie. “What if we did?” she asked. “Would it really be that bad?”

“What do you mean?” Fenris said distractedly. Her chest was rising and falling more rapidly now, and the neckline of her shirt was low and fitted, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the enticing valley between her breasts.

“Well, it’s – it’s a dream, right?” she panted. “If we… if we did, it wouldn’t be real. It’s… it’s just a dream.”

Her tone was pleading, and her spine was arching to draw his attention to her breasts, and fasta vass, he wanted to refresh his memory of what her nipples tasted like.

He stroked her collarbone again. She let out a little moan, and when Fenris slid his fingers down to stroke the gentle swell of her breast at the border of her neckline, she mewled – that perfect, sweet, strained little mewl of desire that made his cock absolutely steely with want.

He swallowed hard, then stepped closer to her. “Perhaps you’re right,” he murmured. “Perhaps we could… be together in this dream.”

Her eyes widened with hope. “Really?”

He dipped his finger into her neckline and stroked the peak of her nipple, and she mewled again and arched her spine. He slid his hand around her nape, then brushed his lips over her ear.

“Or perhaps you’re a demon,” he whispered.

She drew away from him, and a slow smile stretched across her lips. When she met his gaze, her eyes were a soulless, empty black.

Fenris sat bolt upright with a gasp. It was pitch dark in the tent, and his cock was hard and throbbing, but his skin was awash with a layer of cold sweat.

I’m awak, he thought. I’m awake. It was a dream. The knowledge of his waking state should have been a relief, but it wasn’t enough to comfort him.

He scrambled out of his bedroll and shoved his way out of the tent, and Varric looked up in surprise. “Fenris!” he exclaimed. “You okay?”

Fenris ignored him and lifted the flap to Hawke and Merrill’s tent. “Hawke!” he barked.

Merrill yelped and sat upright, but Hawke only moaned and shifted. Panicked now, Fenris crawled into the tent.

“Fenris!” Merrill squeaked. “What in the Void are you doing?”

He ignored her and grabbed Hawke’s shoulder. “Hawke,” he snapped. “Hawke, wake up!”

She flinched and gasped, then finally opened her eyes. “Fenris?” she said. “What’s… fuck, what’s the matter? Why are you glowing? Did something happen?”

He glanced at his arms briefly; his lyrium marks were indeed lit, but that didn’t matter. “Hawke, look at me,” he said.

She was gazing worriedly at the tent flap. “Is something going on out there? Where’s Varric–”

He clasped her face in his hands. “Look at me!” he shouted.

Her wide-eyed gaze darted up to his face, and he stared hard at her. Her pupils were huge in the darkness, but the light of his lyrium marks revealed that her irises were their usual warm gold.

She was fine. She wasn’t possessed, and she wasn’t a demon. It had all been a dream.

He exhaled heavily, and Hawke gave him a nervous smile. “Is this your idea of a booty call? If it is, your technique needs a little work.”

Fenris gulped in a breath of air. “Vishante kaffas,” he said shakily.

She smiled more widely. “Foreign swearing? You really are trying to seduce me.”

Merrill tutted. “I’m going to stay in Fenris’s tent. Goodnight, Hawke,” she said, with a pointed look at Fenris, and she crawled out of the tent.

Hawke chuckled. “If your hope was to get her out, then congratulations. You succeeded.”

He stared at her in silence. That thing she’d said, about the foreign swearing and the seduction… it was like an echo of what she’d said in the Fade.

No, he reminded himself. That hadn’t been her. That was the demons who were masquerading as her to torment him.

His gut was writhing. He gulped in another breath of air to try and quell it. “Are you… do you feel well?” he croaked.

Her smile faded. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “What’s wrong?” She reached up and pressed his hand to her cheek, and he realized belatedly that he was still clasping her face.

He exhaled slowly to calm himself, then released her. “Nothing,” he said. “It… it was nothing.”

“It clearly wasn’t nothing if you came bursting in here in the middle of the night,” she said. She tapped his knee. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Her voice was soft and warm, and so was her gaze. They were together in the intimacy of this tiny tent, and she was stretched out in her bedroll while he was kneeling over her. Her loose shirt was slipping down to show off her bare shoulder, and… and it was so close to being exactly what he wanted that it hurt.

He dropped her gaze. “I would rather not,” he mumbled, and he shuffled away from her to sit on Merrill’s bedroll. “Go back to sleep.”

“All right,” she said slowly. She shuffled back into her bedroll and lay down on her side facing him. She was silent for a moment, and Fenris kept his eyes on his knees; he could feel her staring at him, and he didn’t dare to meet her eyes for fear of what he’d see — or fear of what she’d see in his face, were he to lift it.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “Are you going to get some sleep?”

He shook his head. “I’ll keep watch,” he said. What he didn’t tell her is that he would wake her again if he suspected even a hint of a nightmare touching her mind.

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “Something worried you enough to make you come bursting in here in the middle of the night, but not enough that you want to talk about it. But enough that you’re… staying in this tent and keeping watch while I sleep.”

“I suppose those are the circumstances,” he muttered to his knees.

Hawke was silent for a moment longer. “If you say so,” she finally said. “But you should be warned that I get grabby in my sleep sometimes. If I start fondling you, I can’t be blamed.”

He scoffed and glanced at her; through the darkness of the tent, he could still see her cheeky smile.

“That is a poor excuse for misbehaviour,” he drawled.

“It’s still an excuse,” she said brightly. “Consider yourself warned.”

He smirked, but he couldn’t keep looking at her; she was too beautiful, and it was… kaffas, it was as Hawke had said: it was unfair. Everything was unfair, and he wished that it wasn’t this way, but it was.

He looked back down at his knees. Hawke said nothing more, and Fenris assumed she must have fallen back asleep. He eventually settled into a more comfortable cross-legged position on Merrill’s bedroll, then sighed softly and tilted his head back. Venhedis, he was exhausted. This was the last time he was coming camping on the fucking Wounded Coast. And Hawke had better not decide to come out here on another overnight trip, either. If she did, he would most definitely be having words with her.

The rest of the night crawled by painfully slowly. Fenris forced himself to stay awake, but his vigil turned out to be unnecessary; Hawke slept peacefully for the remainder of the night, and when she woke up the next morning, she was so chipper that it made him feel even more fatigued.

She hummed to herself as she packed up their camping gear, and she flirted mercilessly with him and Varric and Merrill while they ate their breakfast, and Fenris could barely muster the energy to do more than murmur an acknowledgement of her playful advances. By the time they were plodding along the path that would take them back to Kirkwall, he’d stopped even trying to respond to the others’ lighthearted banter.

When they were halfway back to Kirkwall, Hawke sidled up to him. “Thank you for your company last night, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbled.

“No, really,” she said. “I think it helped. Before you came bursting in like a bull in a china shop, I was having the most unnerving dream.”

He looked at her in alarm as she kept on talking. “It was about you, actually. You were really acting like yourself in the dream. More than dream people usually do, I mean. You were mad at me because there were all these demons, and we were at–”

“The Hanged Man,” he blurted.

Her eyes widened. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, exactly.” She gave him an odd look, and Fenris gaped at her with a suddenly pounding heart. Had they been… was it possible that they’d actually been in the same dream?

She covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh no,” she said, and she started laughing. “Oh, no. Oh, Fenris.” She laughed some more, and he noted with dismay that her cheeks were turning pink.

“What?” he said defensively. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, nothing!” she said. “I just, um… I mean, if we were having the same dream, then…” She trailed off. Her eyes were huge and beautiful and loaded with unspoken words, and Fenris suddenly couldn’t breathe.

If their dreams had been the same, then… then she’d been naked on her knees while a demon with his form tried to seduce her. She’d stood in front of him in the Fade and pinched him to stop him from falling into temptation like the demons wanted, even with all this longing and lust in her blazing amber eyes. But — but had that been her, or a very clever demon? How much of the dream had they truly shared, if they’d both spent so much of the time being tortured by demons wearing each other’s skin?

He stared stupidly at her. Her long dark hair was more tousled than usual from sleeping in a tent, reminding him forcibly of the way she looked right after he finished pleasuring her. Her cheeks were turning pink, and her eyes were bright and intense, and in this terrible, breathless, desire-soaked moment, Fenris wished he was the sort of man who could answer the unspoken plea in her parted lips and kiss her. He wished that he was the sort of man who could have ceded to his base desires and availed himself of her naked and willing body while they were both cloaked by the immunity of the Fade.

He wished for Hawke with every heated drop of blood in his body and every beat of his erratically pounding heart. But Hawke deserved more than a lusty kiss or a meaningless fuck in the Fade. She deserved everything, and no matter how badly he might wish for her, he was incapable of giving her what she deserved.

His throat felt thick. With effort, he dropped her gaze. “Hawke, I—”

She interrupted him. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it forgotten.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Forgotten? What… what do you mean?”

She smiled and shrugged. “I mean, don’t worry about it. I know you don’t, um, want to talk about… this.” She gestured awkwardly between them. “So don’t worry about it. It’s like it didn’t happen, all right?”

Her voice and her smile were so determinedly cheerful that they couldn't possibly be genuine. He swallowed painfully. “All right,” he said.

She punched his arm in a friendly manner, then bounced away to join Merrill and Varric, and Fenris followed them with a heavy heart. He listened to Hawke’s lovely barking laugh and watched as she linked her arm with Merrill and hugged Varric around the neck, and he wished that things were different.

He wished that his mind wasn’t a bleached canvas written over with pain and hate. He wished that he could savour the sight of Hawke’s bare body as herself and not as a twisted image of his own crude desires. Fenris gazed wistfully at the lively sway of Hawke’s slender hips, and he wished.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenrynne #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Atlas: Space, Saturn

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 8/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album.

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 8: Saturn

Summary: Loki chooses a terrible time to develop a conscience, thinking he’ll have time to sort himself out and win her back. He doesn’t. (Post Taking Turns.)

Warnings include: Language, character death, and just… so much angst.

The mild autumnal breeze did little to soothe Loki’s fevered thoughts. He had put this moment off for so long that he nearly convinced himself that it was unnecessary, or that he could be selfish just a little longer. With every battle they saw together, with every bruise and bloody lip that they shared, mostly at the other’s expense, he knew he couldn’t hold off any longer. Loki sensed trouble brewing in the Universe, trouble that was coming for him. And he thought–no, he knew–that she would put herself in the middle for him without a moment’s hesitation.

He needed to stop this cursed experiment in feelings.

“I have to tell you something.” Loki’s voice was low and hesitant. Becca straightened up, fidgeting and shifting her weight from leg to leg as she watched him almost statuesque against the oak tree.

“I do, too,” she whispered, ducking her head down to hide her burning cheeks. He nodded her ahead and she took a deep breath, her warm brown eyes glancing up at him through long lashes. She looked so sweet and innocent and his heart panged. “I love you, Loki.”

He should’ve definitely gone first.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Becca.” His words strained to even leave his mouth. All of this felt wrong and raw and he didn’t want to live with the image of her now disappointed face lingering in his mind for as long as she lived. “I’m going with Thor, off to explore. Mother’s… mother is dead and I have a responsibility to help him–”

Her brow furrowed into a deep frown. “A responsibility? You’re kidding me. Thor has actively avoided speaking to you for weeks over this mess with Jane! The only thing you owe Thor is a well-aimed kick for the way he treats you, sometimes.”

“You don’t understand–”

“You’re damn right, I don’t!”

There were tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over. He was expecting her to take it hard, but he could never have imagined it would make her this visibly upset. It almost made him want to reconsider his plans. Almost.

“I tell you that I love you, after months of us tiptoeing around each other and basically living together and you tell me–”

Loki’s face hardened. “I don’t expect a mortal to comprehend these issues.” He knew it was a low blow, but it was necessary. “Thor and I will be around each other for centuries more. It’s easy to forgive a slight with that kind of time.”

“Is it possible for you not to sabotage yourself for once in your fucking life?” Her teeth were clenched, but that did not detract from the jab her words delivered. She was so good at reading him, and from the way he tensed and his breath hitched, she knew it, too.

“I don’t love you.” His words came out slow and even, despite the bitter taste they left behind.

Stark had once told him that just letting her go would not keep her safe. He said to embrace the pain and make sure he would never feel that same terror he did when she was shot, again. Stark hadn’t considered the vast reputation a thousand years of being God of Mischief would build, or the enemies it brought with it. Even then, Loki was worried about his brother’s enemies rather than his own, at the moment. She didn’t need to know about the dark elves, or chaos in the realms–it would only make her volunteer for service.

“I don’t love you,” he repeated, barely a breath, whether to convince her or himself, he was unsure.

“Sure.” Becca laughed mirthlessly, nodding her head. “Pretend whatever you want. I’m not going to beg. Fuck off, Loki. See you when I see you.” Her shoulder brushed his as she walked back towards her apartment, arms wrapped around herself.

He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets to keep from reaching out for her. “You won’t.”

You taught me the courage of stars before you left How might carries on endlessly even after death With shortness of breath you explained the infinite How rare and beautiful it is to even exist

Becca stood at the rooftop of the Avengers complex, staring at the stars above. In upstate New York, it was easier to see the stars. A corner of her lips tugged upwards as she stared at the burning balls of gas, millions of miles away, recalling each one’s name and story. Loki always had a way of explaining the stars and making their history become permanently engrained in her mind. It was one of the few memories she had with him that didn’t sting like all hell; one of the few moments when she didn’t mind thinking about him.

She had seen him since that day in the park, flashes of him in the complex, but never very long and never alone. Becca had to give it to him–he was stubbornly true to his word. Becca couldn’t conjure a single image of him that wasn’t a blur from the last few years. Thor, sweet as he was, tried not to bring him up, except once to say he had died but that had turned out to be a ruse. She still, stupidly–or sentimentally, whichever was most accurate–, provided both brothers with gear.

I couldn’t help but ask For you to say it all again I tried to write it down But I could never find a pen I’d give everything to hear You say it one more time That the universe was made Just to be seen by my eyes

“Lady Becca.” She sighed, letting her shoulders slump forward. To this day, she had not really forgiven Thor for his part in his brother’s hare-brained plot. He can convince Loki of so damn much, but he could not take five minutes to tell him to reassess what he had done; what he had said. Loki would–and had–risked everything for Thor and his love, but apparently the dedication was one-sided. “Becca.”

“What is it, Thor? Oh–what happened to your eye?” She had turned around, pulling the hoodie, that may or may not have belonged to Loki, tighter around her form. Thor looked worse for wear and there was some emotion in his face that she couldn’t quite place.

“I must speak with you. It’s about Loki.”

Becca scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What is it now? Did he break his AI? Another heat stroke? What?”

“He’s dead.” The words echoed in her head far longer than they should have.

She tried in vain to scramble for her control. “How many times does that make? Two? Three? Loki doesn’t just die, Thor.”

Thor was silent for a very long moment. She expected him to nod and chuckle, tell her she was right and that they should all wait for the frost giant to pop back up. Instead she got a lip quiver and tears streaming down his one good eye. “He loved you so much. He was going to come back for you. I am truly sorry.”

A stone the size of a boulder dropped in her stomach, at once. Her chest was constricting in sheer horror. “No. Thor, you’re wrong. He can't… You’re lying!”

“I’m so sorry.” The floor shook as Thor dropped Stormbreaker and rushed to tighten his arms around Becca.

With shortness of breath, I’ll explain the infinite How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist

There were so many questions left inside of her head. As much as she wanted to ask Thor the who, what, when, where, and why, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when he was sobbing so hard and so loudly that she could almost hear his heart cracking beneath his armor. Thor had never been the best brother to Loki, and she knew that, but there was a genuine affection that he had for his little brother that was twisting at his insides. Whatever promises he had made to support Loki or to make amends for his actions were now gone and those regrets hurt more than his death.

Becca reached the point that she had cried so hard and so desperately that she had to go to the MedBay to pick up a rescue inhaler. She had not needed one in over two decades, but this was the night it was going to get a hell of a lot of use. She sat on the floor of what used to be Loki’s room, staring at the stars out of his window, retelling herself the stories of each of the constellations. The tales of how each orb had been hung in the sky; of the warriors of old that went to Valhalla and populated the night sky; the endless patch of dark that was the Universe and how infinitesimal the probability of their existence was in the grand scheme of things. She tried not to think of his soothing voice, calculating odds of how likely it was that a girl from Midgard would meet a god from Asgard and how they’d won the lottery. How he had won the lottery every second he had her.

Most of all, she tried not to hate the fact that he had left her and turned her back into a statistic, never to feel irrationally lucky ever again. The Universe embraced this new reality.

#Loki #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #chapter 8 #atlas space #saturn #Fanfictrashdump

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