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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

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Draw your swords, pt.4

Summary: In his attempt to get to know his wife, the Darkling realizes he might be getting too close.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual innuendoes, slightest bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three

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Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Not only did she agonize over the slightest possibility of his words being true, but the lingering of his lips on hers even hours after they’ve left tormented her mind. Instead of sleeping, she sat outside in the darkness with nothing but stars to keep her company. She shuddered with the cold wind as it chilled her, even the kefta didn’t protect her as well as she thought it would.

Sighing, she smiled up at the night sky, watching the stars in their celestial dance. It’s undeniable, she’s envious of them – their freedom is undisputed, their beauty unmatched by anything earthly. No one can force a star to marriage, no one can dull its brightness.

“Are you alright?” Genya spoke up, startling Y/N into a loud gasp.

Turning around, Y/N giggles in slight panic, a hand resting on her chest. “You scared me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, she chuckles too, coming closer to Y/N who let out a relieved sigh, only to look up once again.

“I couldn’t sleep”, she explains, “So I came here to watch the stars.”

“Most people are afraid of the dark”, Genya raised an eyebrow as she fixed her gaze on Y/N instead. She studied her carefully, unsure if she should invest all her hopes and dreams in her – no matter how striking she is.

“Oh, I’m scared of the dark!” Y/N exclaims, pointing up at the sky, “But the night sky is littered with lanterns, meant to guide you home. My mom always told me to look up whenever I feel lost, because the stars will help me find answers to any worry.”

Pursing her lips, Genya frowned, “Does that mean you doubt your plan?”

“No”, Y/N replied with haste, “I am simply trying to understand some of the chess pieces I thought I had figured out.”

Looking back at the Palace, Y/N’s eyes found the window of her room in an instant. A dark figure passed by it, the candlelight revealing the figure is pacing.

“He’s not a bad man, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Holding her breath, Y/N’s eyes find amber ones, “That’s not what I’ve heard. His deeds have spoken plenty about the strength of his character.”

“He’s fighting a war, not just with the outsiders, not just your father, but those on our side as well.” Pausing, Genya steps before her, “Do you know what they call him?”

“The Darkling”, she states, “A starless saint, a demon, a shadow king.”

“So many of those names are meant to demonize him, to shun him from society simply for the power he was born with”, licking her lips, Genya reaches for Y/N’s hand. “His own people are dying simply for who they’re born as – humans, Shu, Druskelle, they’re all sharpening their swords. If he’s not feared, we’re all dead.”

Nibbling on her lower lip, Y/N closed her eyes. Exhaling, she faced Genya once more.

“Does that mean I should applaud him for the way he’s treated the First army so far? How can you defend him when he’s the one who brought you here…to the emperor?”

Retracting her hand, Genya flashed a smile – one too strained to be believable. “He tried to defend me and got himself punished for it. So I’m here and I’m telling you to give him a chance.” Walking past Y/N, Genya stops just a few paces behind her, “He might surprise you.”

All the things Genya said became faint echoes inside Y/N’s head. When she returned to the room, she was ready for a new quarrel with Kirigan. Despite her readiness, he was sound asleep as she slipped her kefta off. With trembling fingers, she lifted the comforter only to stifle a laugh upon a surprising sight. Not only had there been a pillow to separate them, but three to ensure she wouldn’t accidentally roll on his side during the night. Perhaps she did smother him the night before and for once, she didn’t feel ashamed, rather satisfied. If he’s so insistent on sharing a bed, why would she make it any easier on him?

Tossing the pillows aside, she slid onto his side. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she tried to wrap an arm around his middle, but she couldn’t do it with her heart clenching wildly inside her chest. She drew back, forming tight fists at her side as she glared up at the canopy in frustration. If she’s going to play well and win, she’ll have to swallow her pride and withstand some discomfort.

Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N held her breath as she half climbed atop of Kirigan. Waiting to see if he’ll wake, Y/N finally released a shuddered breath. Burying her nose in the crook of his neck, she finally felt herself warm up after being outside for so long.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent – woodsy and clean as if he had just had a bath. She never realized it before, but he smelled the same way on their wedding day…and night. But also earlier when he was pressed against her, devouring her mouth. Just the thought of his arms around her, his tall frame against her and the feverish kiss they’ve shared had caused her heartbeat to quicken with no shame.

And while she drifted off, she failed to realize something else – the Darkling was very much awake.

Instead of moving away when he felt a weight atop of him, he struggled to even his breathing. She smelled like spring, like lilacs and oddly enough, he enjoyed it. Most times, he’d crinkle his nose in disgust for strong, flowery scents made him nauseous, but she didn’t have the heavy, unbearably thick air of perfume cling to her – it felt like it’s her natural scent.

Smiling, the Darkling allowed himself to relax once her breathing calmed down and while her hands and feet felt like icicles, her cold nose brought most of the discomfort. Once she warmed up, by stealing his body heat, the Darkling began to drift away too. After all, he was winning.

A single ray of sunshine came through the window, its heat tickling Y/N’s nose. Sleepily, she brushed at it then tried to turn away, but something blocked her way. She lazily opened her eyes and saw the strange bed canopy overhead. When she remembered where she was and how she fell asleep last night, she felt her face grow hot as blood rushed to her cheeks. Even her body seemed to blush. She moved her head toward the other side of the bed and looked at where her husband’s supposed to be, yet he was gone – only the pillows she could have sworn she removed remained.

There was no way of knowing it, but each morning, the Darkling opened his eyes and looked at her first. No matter if she was drooling or her hair matted on her face, he quite enjoyed his view. She seemed gentle, almost like a saint sent to remind him light can exist along with darkness he’s been shrouded in.

Disgruntled, she sat up and huffed. She wanted to wake up at the same time as he did. One, she wanted to see his reaction and laugh, two, she really wanted to discuss the kiss from before. Then again, she just wanted to see the general at his most vulnerable state – waking up disheveled, just like any human would. His perfectly styled hair unnerved her and she couldn’t help but wonder if Genya used her power on it because she had never once seen a hair out of place, not even after their kiss.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried to catch him alone. Unfortunately, she barely saw her husband at all. A fleeting glance of acknowledgement was all she received as they passed each other in the hall, both surrounded by others.

At night, she laid awake in hopes of speaking to him before bed. The faint candlelight on the bedside table kept the darkness away, relieving her fear. Would he laugh at her if she admitted to it? After all, isn’t he the one who can create darkness out of thin air? Perhaps he’d shroud her with it and prove he truly is cruel, but she had no way of being sure. He must never know of it and she truly hoped never to see his display of power.

Lost in her thoughts, she blinked and it was morning.

Wide eyed, she sat up and looked to his side. It was unmade, the pillow dented right where his head was and yet she can’t remember hearing him arrive in the night or leave in the morning. She never does.

“Fuck”, she mutters under her breath as she slams a fist in his pillow. Grunting, she buries her face into it, muffling her frustrated scream.

“Are you done?” Genya frowned at her, waiting by the door while Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs into a pillow.

“YOU’VE GOT TO STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME!”

Scoffing, Genya rolled her eyes. “You need to be more perceptive about your surroundings.”

A knock on the door had startled them both, enough for them to both let out a strangled scream. The door opened before either of them gave the permission and once they realized who it was that entered, they didn’t need a reason as to why.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The Darkling grinned at his wife who narrowed her eyes at him immediately.

“Your voice gives me a headache”, Y/N complains.

Squinting at her, the Darkling wondered if a woman could be so infuriating without wielding some mystic power to make her so.

“I believe you agreed to ride with me.”

“Oh”, Genya smirks, “She’ll ride you –“, covering her mouth, Genya giggles as she sees Y/N’s glare is on her, “I meant, with you.”

“I’ve prepared the horses”, he waited for her to respond, to give him reason to dislike her yet she didn’t.

“I will keep my word”, Y/N stood with her formidable gaze on his. She dared not look at his lips for they brought memories and self-loathing she’d rather avoid. After all, what kind of a woman quivers for her enemies touch?

“Wonderful”, he smirks, “I’ll wait for you to dress.”

Remaining in his spot, his hands at his sides, Kirigan raised his eyebrows as both women stared at him.

“Get out”, Y/N waves him off and he clicks his tongue.

“You may not let me touch you, but I can look.”

Angry, she narrowed her eyes at him, “That didn’t stop you from pinning me to a door.”

Genya’s eyes widen, pressing her lips to stop herself from commenting on their little exchange.

Shrugging, he stepped closer. His eyes raked over her body, the nightgown leaving little to imagination. “You didn’t seem to protest”, he leans in, “Especially since you proved you could easily escape me.”

Swallowing thickly, she exhaled through her nose. She couldn’t argue with that, now could she? If she wished, she could have forced him to unhand her. She could have fought him, but she didn’t. She may have been startled when he kissed her but she barely tried to push him away and still, when she had the option to back away, she was the one leaning in for a kiss when he lifted her onto the table. He played a game with her and she lost that day and now he gets to be smug about it.

“As your husband, I promise to protect you from all others. If anyone harms you, they’ll part with their life. For that alone, I deserve an occasional view.”

Winking, he takes a step back and sends a smile in Genya’s direction before turning on his heel and walking out.

“YOU KISSED HIM?!”

Groaning, Y/N throws her head back, “Sort of. It’s more like he kissed me and I didn’t fight him on it.”

“So, does this mean you like him?” Wiggling her eyebrows, Genya squealed in excitement. “Are you bringing him on this plan of yours?”

Holding out her hand, Y/N shook her head, “No, no and no. I don’t trust him one bit and he isn’t exactly a man who’d go along with it.” Exhaling loudly, Y/N decided, “He must be removed along with the emperor.”

When she walked outside, Y/N breath was caught in her throat. The sight of the general on a horse truly felt like a fabrication. Never had she seen a man as majestic as him, as proud and aggravatingly cocky all at once. With his black kefta and the cape, he rode on a black stallion as if he were a mere extension of his will.

She wasted no more time in mounting her white mare, chasing after the Darkling who seemed to only then notice he’s not alone.

Her horse was not above average size, but she was alert and slender-limbed. Her muscles and good nature allowed Y/N to keep up a fairly good pace, never too far behind the black stallion her husband rode. The stallion was clearly riled up, competitive by nature. Anyone else on its back would be a great danger for the rider, but he clearly trusted Kirigan.

The wind blew her hair back and the cold was rather unforgiving on her skin. Passing him narrowly once they entered the woods, she didn’t look back. Instead, she gripped the reigns tighter and continued to breathe as the cold air made her mouth dry and throat scratchy.

Feeling his gaze on her, she relents, looking back at him.

“Where’s your coat?!” He shouted after her and only then did she realize it must have fallen off. Genya made it pretty for a romantic ride, not quite as practical for a race. But that’s not what truly made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. The hint of worry laced in the words of an angry general is what betrayed him and she couldn’t help but wonder – what if it’s more than just lust for him?

“It was slowing me down”, she couldn’t suppress a victorious smile just as he couldn’t suppress an annoyed grunt. Yet they both slowed down, neither of them speaking as they turned around and headed straight to the palace.

“You’re an avid rider.” The general conceded as he dismounted. Before she could blink, he was beside her, his hands on her hips as he pulled her of the horse and effectively stole her breath away.

The rosy colored cheeks left him defenseless as he stared at her too, a little too intently for it to be innocent. Taking her hands in his, he brought them up to his mouth, blowing at them. She kept her gaze at him, undoubtedly in shock as her cold hands started to tingle with the warmth of his breath.

“I’ll have to leave for a few days”, he speaks before she has a chance. “You’ll have the bed all to yourself.”

“Don’t I have to come? If it concerns my peo –“, she began, but he silenced her.

“It’s got nothing to do with the army. I’m merely doing an errand for the emperor.”

Looking at her hands still in his, she pursed her lips. “Doesn’t he have enough servants to do his bidding?”

A breathless chuckle escapes him, “Why? Will you miss me?”

Rolling her eyes, she snorts, “Why? Do you fancy yourself as someone of importance?”

He looked at her like she's the Sun, angrily squinting at every second she spent in his presence. He never looked at her other than in frustration. At least she thought so. It’s how he looked at her a month ago when they first met on a field stained with Druskelle blood. He stood there, alone and victorious as she stepped over the bodies after arriving on this side of the fold with a Sandskiff.

All of their conversations were arguments – she’d narrow her eyes and he’s squint at her, throwing jabs at each other every chance they get, but this felt different. Something changed after the wedding and she wasn’t entirely sure what.

Achingly aware of their closeness, she couldn’t help but ask. "What is this between us?"

Pausing, he looked at her with wonder. If he could put it to words, it wouldn’t make any sense. His mind could hardly fathom what exactly she meant to him other than being a nuisance, but he didn’t exactly hate her as he believed at first when he admittedly hoped she’d find herself eaten by Volcra while crossing the Shadow fold. What he hated was not having a choice. He hated how arrogant she is and how little respect she has for her superiors. He especially hated her mortality, her species and all the atrocities they’ve committed against him and his kind.

He didn’t love her, that he was sure of. He couldn’t possibly care for her either. Lust, winning this game, feeding his ego by having Zlatan’s daughter at his feet is what he longed for. So no, he didn’t love her, but a part of him feared he might love her in time. For the first time in a very, very long time, the Darkling had a fear and it carried her name.

Perhaps that’s why he reacted the way he did when she asked him if there is something between them.

"Nothing." He grabbed the back of her neck, his lips pressing against hers hard.

He was right, she realized. There was nothing between them, nothing between their lips, not even air.

Pulling away, he smirks as she inhales sharply.

"Did you feel a connection?" He looks her in the eye, his lips set in a firm line.

"Yes", she whispers shakily.

His eyes harden as an ache in his chest reminds him of his fear. Someone like him must give up anything he could possibly love for the loss and disappointment are inevitable. She’s mortal, an enemy behind his borders he can never trust. So he will shut his heart out. Love is not an option for the Darkling, he reminds himself. The last time he allowed himself to love was also the day his heart turned to stone. So, he will not love her and she will not love him. He will destroy that possibility, cut any ties that bind them. Lust is the only thing he will let fester.

Leaning in, his lips brush hers softly as he whispers against them, "That's why you're a fool." Stepping back, he heard her gulp. “The connection you feel is lust, that’s all we have and it’s all we will ever have. Accept it.”

“Is that true or are you just afraid?!” Her voice wavers and she instinctively steps toward him, asserting dominance she felt was lost.

“General”, Ivan calls out, just in case Kirigan needed an excuse to leave.

“Afraid?” The Darkling chuckles dryly, averting his gaze to Ivan who waited for him at the entrance. “I’m not afraid of anything”, he remarks as his eyes lock on her lips again, “Certainly not of my wife.”

As he stepped back, the Darkling caught the strangest look in her eyes. It looked like clarity, total and complete sobriety from the ecstasy his presence gave her. She stood proud, despite the self-loathing in her previously warm eyes that slowly turned them back to the ice she held when she first laid her eyes on him.

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Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart

Part 5

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling au #the darkling fanfiction #the Darkling fic

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teamxdark · 4 years

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Mirror, Mirror

Based off of this little interaction between @damnitd and @silvermun a long time ago. It’s basically unedited, but the story I’ll end up putting on AO3/FFnet another day won’t be much different from this one here.

What can one do, when the heart is split in two? Where does one end, and the other begin? Where is the line drawn?

Or should it be drawn at all…?

Sonic stared at the twisted heap of metal on the kitchen counter, bisected by a sword, and tried his hardest not to scream.

“Lancelot,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even, “that was a toaster.”

The knight in question wrenched his sword from the mess, causing sparks to fly and little bits and bobs, both mechanical and breadlike, to scatter across the counter and fall to the floor. “It was burning up,” he explained gravely, “achieving heats far too intense for today’s weather. I could not trust it, and when it let out a scream, I had to act.”

“That ‘scream’ was an alarm,” Sonic snapped, too tired and hungry to deal with this nonsense. “That means that the toast is done and we can eat. Which we can’t now. Because you attacked the toaster.”

The dark hedgehog turned his sword over in his hands, and Sonic braced himself for his rebuttal, and then they would argue over who was in the right, but the knight uttered a soft, “I simply wished to protect you. I am still getting used to the complex machines of this era, and I cannot bring myself to trust them. I realize that this is… unbecoming of me, and an irritation to you. I apologize, and I will try my best to keep my impulses under control.”

Sonic let out his breath in a loud exhale. It was so easy to forget, still, that this wasn’t Shadow in front of him.

No one could quite explain how the switch had come to pass; one day, Shadow and he had parted ways, the sensation that there were still words left unspoken between them that would be better saved for another time, and the next day, Lancelot had been found in his place.

The knight was having trouble adjusting, to put it lightly. It had been weeks, but the advanced technology of contemporary times drove him to paranoia, and Sonic had seen many a monitor, vehicle, and appliance fall victim to Arondight’s wrath, much to Tails’ chagrin.

Worse, still, was that Lancelot refused to stay anywhere aside from Sonic’s home. The knight graciously declined Shadow’s place, leaving Rouge and Omega down one roommate, staying instead in any spare room he could find, so long as it was where Sonic was staying as well. Rouge had laughed it off, waving the knight away with a taunt that he was ‘Sonic’s problem now’, but the hero had seen the flash of hurt and worry in her eyes.

No one knew where Shadow was, or if he was ever coming back.

And now incidents such as these, with another appliance in pieces, were commonplace.

Sonic rubbed at his forehead, trying to put his buzzing thoughts together in his head before he spoke. “Lance, I get that you’re trying to protect me from my evil cookware and all that, but I don’t get why.”

The knight started, one ear tilting to the side in confusion. “Why would I not? I swore to do so, did I not?”

“No,” Sonic deadpanned. “You didn’t.”

That seemed to offend Lancelot, who let go of his sword for a moment to cross his arms. “I do not wish to speak out of line,” he said, sounding like he was struggling to remain calm, “but you are mistaken. A knight is loyal to the sovereign who knights him, until the last of his days.”

“But I didn’t knight you!” Sonic protested, at the end of his rope. “I’m not your king!”

In response, Lancelot pushed up his visor, and Sonic took in the set jaw, the way his pointed white teeth bared themselves in a snarl, by all means, the spitting image of Shadow, with just the smallest thing here and there that harshly reminded Sonic that the one standing before him was not the one he had spent so many years with. He saw it in the same set jaw, as it trembled with the effort to keep everything held back. He saw it in the snarl, which was more dismayed than hostile. Most of all, he saw it in Lancelot’s eyes, red and wide and so very expressive without the visor to shield them away.

Sonic was so used to seeing those eyes guarded, cut off from him, with only the smallest of opportunities to peek inside before they closed him out again.

Lancelot reached out, holding one of Sonic’s hands in both of his, delicately, like he was something infinitely valuable and the knight was afraid of sullying him with his hands. Sonic had only blinked when Lancelot dropped to his knees, his head bowed forward, and he heard him clear his throat before he spoke.

“You are him. You may not believe me, but I know it to be true. You are Arthur, my king, in this life and all others.”

Sonic sighed, unwilling to let this go but also not wanting to keep on this path of conversation, especially on an empty stomach. He tried to wrench away his hand, but Lancelot held tight, lifting his head, eyes ablaze with passionate certainty that made Sonic freeze in place.

He had never been looked at like that before…

"Every piece of you is the same,” Lancelot declared, his eyes unwavering, drawing in the hero and refusing to release him. “It is not only in image, either. I see it, I hear it, I feel it... It's more than just the body, the vision I see before me. You have his soul, free and unbound and hungry for adventure. You have his heart, strong and kind and noble. I see it in your eyes, you are him, you are who he would be if he were not burdened by his destiny! Don't you understand, Sonic? The only difference between you and Arthur are the memories you keep! You are him! You are him, and that's why I will follow you and protect you with my life. I gave you my vow, and I will not break it. No matter the time, no matter the life... I will stand by you until any and every version of us ceases to exist. That is my promise to you, as your knight!"

He said it so resolutely, so earnestly, that Sonic couldn’t find the words, nor the will to argue against him. In all his life, in all his wildest fantasies, Sonic could never have imagined those words, coming from that mouth, spoken in that voice… It was enough to get his heart pounding, that was for sure.

Sonic closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, but Lancelot’s hands clasped around his kept him anchored in this strange reality he was in. He didn’t like it; it had taken so long to get to where he had gotten with Shadow, so much time and effort and tenacity to get every last crumb from him, but Sonic had been adamant. He had wanted to break Shadow’s walls, to reach through, to understand him and be someone trusted and cared for. He had tried so hard, made so much progress… and now Shadow was gone, and in his place, Lancelot knelt before him, eagerly baring his soul for him without so much as a command.

Sonic would have been a liar if he said he didn’t like what he saw in Lancelot, either, but after all he had done for Shadow… it felt… wrong? Bad? In poor taste? Off, to be feeling similar flutters in the chest for a man who shared his face but not his past, nor his experiences.

Yet, as he opened his eyes and saw Lancelot still staring resolutely at him, as though desperate for him to understand, Sonic had to wonder if the knight had a point; Shadow had had amnesia twice, now. His memories had reset, but he had still been Shadow at his core. Sonic had never doubted that.

Did memories truly make a person who they were? And if so… were Lancelot and Shadow truly two different people?

Are you him? Sonic wanted to ask as he was burned alive by those eyes, crimson and intense, focused on him and him alone. Are you who he could have been if things had been different?

He wasn’t sure, but at least he could kind of understand where Lancelot was coming from.

Sonic heaved out an exhale, using both hands to pull Lancelot to his feet. “Okay,” he conceded. “Okay… but no more protecting me from my house or my friends. I’ll let you know when we’re in danger, okay?”

And Lancelot beamed, overjoyed, his teeth poking out through his lips and his eyes crinkling with happiness, and Sonic would be an even bigger liar if he denied that it was one of the most gorgeous sights he had ever seen.

Lancelot… I think I want to know you, too.

...

The sound of his pen scratching along the page was the only sound in the room. King Arthur sat back in his chair, stretching out his fingers, his eyes seeking out the room’s only other occupant, who was standing by with his back against the wall, looking displeased.

Shadow was silent, as always.

Arthur let out a breath, drumming a couple of fingers against his desk. “I cannot solve anything if you do not speak,” he finally remarked, much to the displeasure of the other.

“I don’t want to be out there with the others. This is the only room where no one barges in. That’s all.”

“Hm. Quite.”

It was mostly true, he supposed. Sometimes an advisor would poke their head in, but usually those weren’t the people Shadow was hiding from.

Arthur had started hearing the rumors a while ago; Sir Lancelot, his greatest and closest knight, and his longtime friend, was deeply in love with him. The rumors had followed him every day, and plagued him by night, as he wondered if they could be real, and wondered what he would do if they were real.

He had started to see and feel it, too. Lancelot’s habit of looking his way, his gaze, hidden behind his visor, lingering just a moment too long before he looked away again. The way his knight’s hand would remain on his person, his touch still warming him even after he drew his hand away. These moments had grown in number in the latest months, though their time together had remained fleeting, as the life of a king and the life of a knight were wrought with busy schedules and hardly enough time for a ‘hello’ to be exchanged.

For a while, Arthur had felt that something unsaid but reciprocated was between them, but Lancelot was gone, now, and Shadow had taken his place, and now the knights and the maids and the servants all looked at Shadow in the same way they had done to Lancelot, and the whispers and giggles followed the dark hedgehog until he ran into Arthur’s study and shut them all out behind him.

He made for some rather unsettling company, this sullen, tense man who shared his face with that of his closest friend.

Arthur missed him. Arthur missed him so much it hurt, and every day that passed he wished for the man who had stood by him from the very beginning to still be there, by his side, in a world that demanded the most he would be able to give as the bare minimum, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to take it out on Shadow. Nor was he about to dismiss the fact that Shadow was in a strange new world, and likely every bit as confused, disturbed, and frightened as he was.

“Would you like me to speak with them?” Arthur offered, figuring it was worth a try.

Yet Shadow huffed in response, the proposal seeming to offend him, and Arthur wondered why. “Don’t bother, I can handle my own problems.”

That was the other thing about Shadow: he had never, at any point, treated Arthur like he was royalty.

“It’s considered bad form to refuse the offer of a king,” Arthur pointed out, partly as a piece of advice; though he didn’t mind it himself, he knew Sir Gawain would throw a fit upon hearing that Shadow had shown such dismissal.

And the other part of him wanted to push Shadow just a little more. To get more of that strangely satisfying feeling of being treated like a man instead of a crown.

“I don’t care,” came the instant reply, and Arthur had to fight back a smile. “There are no kings where I come from, so your title means nothing to me, and even if it did, I won’t bow to you, or to anyone.”

The ‘not again’ went unsaid, but Arthur could hear it in Shadow’s voice, could read it in his body language. Arthur was always rather adept at deciphering Lancelot’s small cues and gestures, though Lancelot kept many of them hidden behind a wall of steel, but with Shadow, who bared his face and his body for the world to see, nothing could be hidden from Arthur’s discerning gaze. It was fascinating, truly, to be able to read someone new so well and so easily. Shadow was a puzzle with clear edges, but with many, many pieces that Arthur still had to search for.

All in all… a refreshing individual, despite the circumstances.

“Okay,” Arthur relented, and the sight of Shadow’s eyes narrowing in confusion only served to make fighting back his smile impossible. “In that case, I shall leave it to you.”

With that, he picked back up his pen, continuing to draft the latest ordinance on adjusting the limits of imported goods past Avalonian borders. The work was tedious, boring, dull, and even though he had just taken a break, Arthur felt his hand start to cramp with just a few words jotted down. The king sighed, rolling his wrist a few times, before getting back to work.

Just grin and bear it, he thought to himself as an involuntary noise of discomfort escaped him as his hand twinged again. You’ve done it before and you will always be able to do it. A king cannot show weakness. A king may not make excuses for poor judgement. Everyone is counting on me to do the best I can.

The thoughts only served to worsen the sense of anxiety that always seemed to cloud his mind, and Arthur grimaced, dropping his pen, holding his head in his hands and wishing for comfort for a man who was no longer with him.

His ears perked up as he heard a noise, something akin to a footstep taken in his direction, and when the king lifted his head, he noticed that Shadow no longer had his back flush against the wall. The dark hedgehog was doing his best to mask his emotions, but Arthur could still peel back every layer he put up, seeing the concern and the discomfort in the smallest things, from the slight narrowing of his eyes to the light raising of his spines. Shadow’s body language was silently screaming in empathy, something Arthur wasn’t used to receiving from others, and it intrigued him more than it should have.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured Shadow, not waiting to be prompted; he doubted the other would have asked, anyhow. “It’s simply sobering, sometimes, to remember that I have a kingdom’s worth of expectations to meet.” The king looked back down at the piles of papers on his desk; it was the same work, day in and day out, with decisions ranging from laughably easy to crushingly difficult. Yet, he had to make them all. Without thinking, he murmured aloud, “A single mistake could cost me everything I’ve done up to this moment. All the good I’ve done, all the efforts I’ve made, all the reputation that I’ve struggled to build up… it could all go up in smoke in a second, and I would be back at the beginning, needing to prove myself over and over again to people who expect everything from me.”

It was a moment of weakness, of cowardice, wherein Arthur was so tired from years of work and the loss of his most precious ally, for whom he still had almost no time to mourn. His eyes flicked back up to Shadow, and he prepared to apologize and ask that he forget all that he had just divulged 一 it was hardly fair on his guest, after all 一 but then he saw Shadow’s face, stunned and amazed, his red eyes wide and fixed on him, welling with a look that Arthur almost never saw on another person; understanding.

Shadow was looking at him with such mind-blowingly clear understanding and empathy that Arthur’s breath was taken away.

For a few more charged, heart-pounding moments, all they could do was stare, the sensation of something new connecting them becoming stronger and stronger with every passing second.

Then Shadow tore his gaze away and flung open the door, stepping outside and closing it behind him, leaving Arthur alone in his study.

As the king sat back in his chair, he stared into space as he tried to make sense of what had just happened, and what that might have meant for Shadow.

He was certain that, even though his dear friend’s face was too often hidden from view, that Lancelot had never once looked at him like that.

Shadow… what is your story, I wonder?

…

Just when Lancelot thought he couldn’t hate the odd technology of Sonic’s world any more, it came to a sudden and violent peak as the blue hero was called into action as a swarm of machines called ‘robots’ began invading Station Square. To make matters worse, they were created by some sort of mad doctor, and upon seeing an image of the man in question, Lancelot had to restrain himself from running the monitor through with his sword.

This mad doctor held a horrible resemblance to a certain ‘emperor’ that had caused Arthur far too much trouble, back at home in Avalon, and it made Lancelot desire nothing less than for this man’s complete and utter demise at his hands.

According to Sonic, these attacks weren’t anything new to him and his team, and though he knew it was a distraction or a trap, they didn’t have any options aside from stopping them quickly and efficiently, for the sake of everyone who lived in the city. He rallied his team effortlessly, leading the chase down to the battle, not bothering to bark orders because of the trust he carried in his followers…

Lancelot’s heart swam with affection. Sonic truly was Arthur, whether he believed it or not, and it showed in everything he did. He was a leader who cared not for the title, a man who cared for even the smallest life under his protection, and his bravery was unmatched, inspiring, and absolute. Someone of such immeasurable importance that needed to be protected at all costs.

So what else could Lancelot do but run to shield him when, during the battle, he saw a robot take aim at Sonic’s back?

His ears registered the sound of Sonic moving, then stumbling, but he only paid attention to the blast that came his way, soaking up the impact with his legendary strength, but he was not indestructible. Blood began dripping from a wound on his arm, and the scent of singed hair prickled in his nose in the most unpleasant way. Lancelot hissed in pain, his mind threatening to cloud with this new kind of pain, like fire but so much more unnatural, but he took pride in knowing that he had done his job. Sonic was safe. Sonic was safe and…

And he was dragging Lancelot to the side?

“What the hell was that, Lance?” Sonic demanded, panic and fury coloring his tone, and Lancelot’s feet almost froze in shock. Why was Sonic so frightened? Why did he sound so angry?

Had he done something wrong?

In a space several yards away from the battle zone, Sonic sat Lancelot down, and swore under his breath when he saw his battle wound. “Damn it Lance, I knew that robot was there! Why didn’t you just let me dodge? Oh Chaos, you’re bleeding, why did you run in like that?!”

Lancelot only gaped at him, his mind struggling to make sense of his leader’s words as Sonic inspected his arm and fretted over how it wasn’t healing.

Was he supposed to heal quicker than the average being? Lancelot supposed that maybe, with the help of his mother or Merlina, that could be possible, but the young girl who appeared to be his mother’s counterpart appeared more of a fighter than a healer, and he had not yet seen a counterpart to the royal wizard.

Lancelot wanted to ask these questions, to get some answers, but the near furious look on Sonic’s face made him hold his tongue. Such a look on someone he admired and loved so strongly… it was enough to make him feel like the scum of the earth.

The knight sat out the rest of the battle, staying in place even as Sonic left to finish the job, and the humiliating feeling of utter shame managed to overpower even his need to ensure his leader’s safety. Every time he felt the urge to stand up regardless, to charge into the battle even while wounded, and fight by his leader’s side as his sword and shield, the image of Sonic’s distraught face would flash before his eyes again, and he would remember his words, sharper and more painful than any sword, demanding why he had interfered.

Why had he failed his job as a knight?

What good was he, if he couldn’t even fulfil his one objective?

Lancelot’s head remained bowed in shame, even as he heard rapid footsteps coming his way. It remained bowed, even as he felt steady hands clean his wound and wrap a bandage around it.

It was only when Sonic lifted his chin and forced his visor up did Lancelot finally manage to look him in the eye.

“Why did you step in front of me like that?” Sonic asked, his voice calm again, though it did nothing to soothe Lancelot’s inner turmoil. The knight wanted nothing more than to no longer speak, to be swallowed by the ground and forgotten, the pathetic knight who couldn’t do his job when it mattered.

But he couldn’t refuse his leader, and so he forced himself to talk.

“It was the promise I made to you,” he said, and he struggled to keep his dismay in check as Sonic immediately looked displeased at his answer. “I am… protective by nature, and even moreso as a knight. I swore to protect Arthur, and I must protect you, too, even if that comes with my own life as a cost. That is something I must do, for I--”

“Oh stop it!” Sonic interrupted, once again looking angry and upset, and Lancelot bit back his speech, both ashamed and relieved. Had he gone even further, he might have lost control of his emotions and revealed just how deeply his affections for the blue hedgehog lied.

And then, Sonic asked something very, very strange.

“Isn’t there more to being a knight than serving a king?”

Lancelot, who up to that point had felt so certain of his standing, of his mission, of who Sonic was and what he represented, felt his heart break in two as cold reality settled over him.

“No,” he whispered in response, having never felt further away from the other than he did in that moment.

Sonic was not his king. Sonic was Arthur, but he was not his king. Sonic had no want for a knight, no desire to act as a king.

But if that were the case, what was Lancelot to do?

“Lancelot.”

Sonic’s voice was firm, and Lancelot braced himself for some hard truths.

“I’m not a king, Lance. I’m a hero, I guess. That’s what people call me, anyways. But the point is, I’m a free hedgehog. I’m not here to give orders or have people die for me, I’m just around to have a good time, to go where the wind takes me, and if I have to save a few people from some robots in the meantime, I will. I just gotta do what I gotta do… and I can’t do that if all you can do is try to protect me.”

Even with his face raised, chin still supported by his leader-- no, by Sonic’s hand, Lancelot tried his best to look away. His eyes watered treacherously, threatening to spill over. Being a knight was Lancelot’s life, his identity, the air that he breathed, the reality he lived in. It was everything he knew, but… but now it was…

The hand disappeared from his face, and then Sonic was reaching for his own hand on his uninjured arm, and Lancelot was pulled to his feet. Sonic looked him full in the eyes, their pull hypnotic, and even as Lancelot tried to choke back his tears, he felt his breath catch in his lungs.

“Hey… I need you to trust me with my own life, okay?”

Lancelot blinked, and the smallest of tears managed to escape him. Sonic didn’t think he trusted him.

In a sense, Lancelot supposed that he didn’t.

Yet when he reopened his eyes, he saw the look the other hedgehog was sending him, a look he had seen in Arthur’s eyes many times, mixed with a sense of sad resignation. Lancelot had never been able to read it perfectly, a fact which had always frustrated him to no end, for all he wanted was to be Arthur’s closest, to be the one who knew him at a level that no one else could hope to achieve.

But in Sonic’s eyes, the message was plain and clear.

He wanted to be seen as an equal, not someone above him, unattainable, on a pedestal. No, it wasn’t just that… Sonic looked determined to pull them both onto equal ground, to the same level, and the thought made Lancelot’s head spin.

“Lance… I know it’s scary, but you can choose how you want to live your life now, and trust me, it’s a good thing.”

And Lancelot, who knew nothing aside from being a knight, felt the crushing weight of the world in front of him, dark and untamed, when before he had Arthur’s light to follow. Paths were branching in front of him, too many to count and too many to walk down individually and explore. His head spun with possibility, and fright gripped at him, tempting him to deny, to refuse, to hide his face, or perhaps, to die as a knight in a world that refused to house him as he was.

Then he felt Sonic’s hand, still holding his, warm and comforting and safe, and somehow, in the midst of his existential turmoil, Lancelot felt a warm glimmer of hope.

“Okay,” he murmured in response, and Sonic’s brilliant grin soothed and delighted him more than he could properly understand.

Sonic… I shall do my best. For you… and for me, as well.

…

It hit too close to home, in this place that was about as far from home as Shadow could get.

Every day, whether he looked for him or not, Shadow saw King Arthur struggle silently. He saw him work day in and day out, endlessly trying to prove that he was worthy of being king, of being in everyone’s good graces and that he wasn’t just entitled to be there, but that he was supposed to be in his position. Even while all around him there sat obstacles and red tape and tough decisions and divides and people who were just never satisfied and…

And…

Shadow closed his eyes, recalling every debriefing he had had in G.U.N.’s headquarters. He remembered feeling as though he was on a leash, that every mission, every move he made had to be executed perfectly, otherwise he would lose his right to exist as a free being.

No… Shadow had never been free. Not since the day he was created, with the power to hurt and to heal, and every day he had to face the consequences of actions he had committed years prior. Shadow remembered the feeling of the imaginary leash shortening, tightening around his throat, reminding him that no matter what he did, it would never be enough.

Shadow would never be considered a true person by the people who saw him as a weapon.

And Arthur… Arthur seemed to be considered in the same way by the people who saw him as a king.

Shadow’s heart ached, and the dark hedgehog grit his teeth as he recalled all the times he had caught the other wincing and massaging his hand while drafting laws and messages, how he plastered a smile on his face as he met people and made addresses when he clearly would rather be anywhere else, and how he kept his voice even as he ordered his knights around, even though he obviously didn’t want to be giving orders, he just wanted to be looked at as an equal, but he was so ingrained in this life that he felt resigned, and so he stopped trying to fight where the fight could not be won. Shadow knew all these feelings, all the sensations of being worked to the bone, of putting on an act to protect himself, of accepting that there were some things that, like it or not, would simply never change…

But Arthur, unlike him, was not the Ultimate Lifeform. This man was not made of infinite power and energy, was not capable of rapid healing or boosting himself in body and mind with his own energies whenever it suited him. Arthur was a remarkable but regular hedgehog, who had been working off of nothing but his own willpower and strength of mind, and that knowledge hurt perhaps the most of all.

Arthur and himself… they both pulled a painfully similar weight, a weight that, even on his worst days, Shadow had never wished upon another person.

So what else could Shadow do but grab Arthur’s hand and run him out of there, out of the castle, yelling vague excuses at anyone who tried to stop them?

Arthur followed easily behind him, not asking a single question as Shadow ran, ran away from suffocating walls and legal obligations and the knowledge that it was never, ever enough.

Shadow was used to Sonic keeping up with him. They had always been on equal grounds, and Shadow knew it, even at the beginning stages of their rivalry when they both had asserted that they were the stronger, the faster, the more incredible hedgehog. With time, that knowledge became easier to swallow, as their rivalry held a friendlier edge to it, and especially so when their friendship and partnership had become more undeniable, and when those dumb, weird feelings started springing forward and…

And…

But with Arthur and his frightfully similar situation, Shadow’s empathy had hit him like a truck, and seeing him in so much concealed pain every day had turned into something too much to bear, and so, just for this one, Shadow decided he would be the man’s savior, even for just one evening.

They stopped in a meadow, far beyond the castle and away from the treeline where the forests began, and Shadow avoided looking at the exhausted king, unsure how to express what was in his head, in his heart, in his soul.

How was he supposed to tell him that watching him take all this weight, all this responsibility, was too much for him?

How was he supposed to say that he had similar issues, with G.U.N. and the people of the United Federation breathing down his neck and observing his every move, and that perfection was the bare minimum?

How could he express that they both deserved to live their lives without earning the right to exist without constant scrutiny, where one slip up meant everything falling apart, absolute ruin, the end of the world…

Shadow took in a deep breath, his mind spinning with thoughts and feelings he wasn’t sure he could put into words, but when he finally looked over to Arthur, the breath left him and wouldn’t return.

Arthur didn’t look angry or annoyed or anxious, even though Shadow had ripped him from his work that he couldn’t afford to fall behind on. Arthur didn’t look upset at all.

He looked grateful.

He looked serene.

Arthur looked directly into Shadow’s eyes, his own green ones reflecting the stars up above, and Shadow wanted to tell him everything, even though his body refused to breathe and his tongue refused to move.

The hand in his hold shifted, and Shadow felt Arthur squeeze his hand softly, just once.

He understood.

Chaos above, Arthur understood, and Shadow didn’t even need to say it.

Shadow swallowed, feeling overwhelmed, and Arthur seemed to understand that, too. Wordlessly, the blue hedgehog moved closer, his hand never leaving Shadow’s, and he leaned his body against Shadow’s, answering an unspoken need for comfort without smothering him, without trapping him in place with a hug or an embrace.

Shadow closed his eyes, hating how the gesture reminded him of one time Sonic had done something similar, a small shoulder check that had lingered a moment too long, and at his side, he felt Arthur breathe in deeply and hold it in, as though he were resisting the urge to sigh.

Shadow knew he was probably thinking about Lancelot.

Their hands both squeezed at the same time, and they both knew.

It was a strange feeling, as though both of them had lost a large piece of their lives, only to gain another to take its place. It was something that felt like infidelity, even though nothing warranting such a thing had been established with the other person on their minds.

Yet this closeness… this was something that Shadow had wanted for a long time, but had never been able to truly obtain. Shadow didn’t always know how to use his words, how to explain what he wanted or what he needed or what he was going through, and now here he was, with Arthur, a man who understood him without words. A man who he understood, who brought out his empathy to an almost painful degree, and Shadow wanted in that moment for nothing more than for them both to be happy.

As he felt the warmth of Arthur’s body and the beautiful comfort of being understood, even in a world that wasn’t his own, Shadow figured he might be on the right track.

Arthur… I don’t know how to thank you.

…

When Sonic first kissed Lancelot, it was after another battle, in which neither escaped without injury. Sonic could see Lancelot try his hardest to hold back his instinctive reactions, struggling to trust him and not place the blame on his shoulders, and Sonic looked out the window, knowing that life was short and uncertain and that any day might be his last.

He also did it knowing that waiting for Shadow was not going to help either of them at all.

He felt Lancelot tense up in shock, then relax, lifting his hands up to his head and burying them in his spines. Lancelot was pilant, willing, eager to receive whatever Sonic wanted to give him, and Sonic responded with his best efforts to make the kiss special, the sort of kiss that Lancelot deserved, after so many years of putting himself second. Whenever Lancelot made a noise that suggested he enjoyed what Sonic was doing, Sonic resolved himself to keep going, to deliver the indulgence that Lancelot had always been denied of.

It was completely different to how he always imagined kissing Shadow would be like. He had always imagined a competition, with both of them trying to one-up each other like they always did, but Lancelot’s sweet eagerness as their lips met again and again pushed all thoughts of Shadow from Sonic’s mind, and as they finally parted for air, it was Sonic’s name that escaped from Lancelot’s mouth.

…

When Arthur first kissed Shadow, it felt like a long time coming. The king knew he would need to take the initiative, with Shadow struggling to come to terms with his own feelings, and he felt the striped hedgehog become rigid in shock when Arthur’s hands landed lightly on his arms and he pressed their lips together.

He also did it with the knowledge that he might never see Lancelot again, and if that were the case, that Shadow was someone he couldn’t bear to let slip through his fingers as well.

When Shadow recovered from the shock, he kissed back, roughly and intensely, and Arthur found himself being pushed to keep up. It was like a battle, fueled by unspoken, deeply internalized feelings, finally being let loose until their heads swam with a lack of air and an overflow of emotion and the immeasurable feeling of connection without words.

Kissing Shadow lit a fire in Arthur’s soul, even as he felt Shadow start to calm down, finding enjoyment at being able to be vulnerable without pain for once in his life. Arthur could feel the heat flush off of the other’s face in waves, and when they finally parted, gasping for air, he was so, so glad that there was no visor or helmet to create a barrier between him and those eyes, softer than he had ever seen them, that he could read like a book.

#Smash speaks.#Avalon Series.#Stories From Avalon.#Lansoni.#Arthadow.#I wrote 80% of this today after months of barely touching it.#Hope you all enjoy!#I'm going to bed.

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otomefoxystar · 3 years

Text

Unbreakable

Fandom: Mr. Love Queen's Choice

Pairing: Gavin X MC

CW: depictions of abuse, smut

Genre: Angst, Smut

This time of year always made her feel nostalgic when the leaves started changing colors. The air smelled crisper, and daylight didn’t last as long. It was a time of year she was always fond of, even when she was a little girl. Her visits to Gavin had become more frequent; there wasn’t a week where they hadn’t planned to see each other. As she traveled the well known path, she sensed someone staring into her. When she turned around to see if anyone was there. There wasn’t anyone or anything, just the leaves rustling from the blowing wind.

She clasped her cloak with her hand, trying to keep the cold out. She turned around, picking up her pace slightly, passing a few houses on the outskirts of town. She tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in her stomach as she kept walking. The wind picked up and whistled in the distance, making her even more uncomfortable.

She sped up her pace, trying to get some solace from the fear taking root inside of her, sensing someone moving right behind her. A cold sweat crept down her back. Then she was pulled back, and a hand covered her mouth as a knife was placed against her neck—the cold steel making her hyper aware of her sudden circumstances.

“Don’t scream. As long as you do as I say, you won’t get hurt.” He whispered lowly into her ear.

“If you don’t do as I say…well?” He pressed the knife into her neck, causing blood to trickle down her chest. “Do you understand?” She nodded her head. With his hand still clasped over her mouth, she bit his hand hard, hard enough to draw blood. This only infuriated him, and he pushed her to the ground. With a scream, she tried to get up for him to pull her into the rough sand. She kicked and flailed, trying to break free from his hold.

Eventually, she kicked him in the face, hard enough to break his nose, forcing him to let go of her ankle. She scampered up as soon as she realized she was free and started running, but didn’t get far before he tackled her to the ground once again, knocking the wind out of her.

“You stupid bitch, maybe I should just kill you.” He pulled his knife on her again, putting the sharp tip to her jugular. As he pressed the knife into her skin, she looked to the side and saw a sharp branch that broke during their scuffle. She reached for it as he tried to keep her still. She was just able to grab it with the tip of her fingers and shove it right into his stomach, making him drop the knife and fall to the ground. She immediately turned and started running, not wasting a single second.

Gavin appeared before her catching her in his grasp. She panted, desperately trying to breathe. Trembling as she tried to break away from him. He held onto her shoulders tightly.

“_ _ _!” Gavin yelled her name as she struggled in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.”

She finally stopped struggling when he embraced her holding her firmly to his chest. He lifted his head and noticed a body not far behind them. He drew back and looked at her, seeing how dirty she was with blood caked on her hands and chest, along with cuts on her face and arms.

Gavin was starting to put the pieces together, he knew that he would have to get to the bottom of what took place, but he had to prioritize _ _ _ right now.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He clasped her hand gently and turned to start walking, but she didn’t squeeze his hand back. She didn’t even move. He looked back at her, and she just was staring into nothingness.

“_ _ _?” Nothing, no expression. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you.” Gavin looked at her statue like state. Then he cupped both her cheeks, looking in her emotionless eyes. “I’m going to carry you _ _ _, okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. I need to make sure you aren’t hurt.” He bent down and picked her up princess style, adjusting her body to make sure he had a good grasp on her.

Once he walked into the castle, he climbed up the stairs to his bedroom and gently laid her down on the bed. He got a bowl of clean water and a clean cloth from the bathroom, wiping off the blood on her hands. He went to clean her chest when he saw that she had been injured there.

“Please, come back to me.” His wolf ears drooped, and he reached his hand to her forehead and brushed her hair back, petting her head. “G-Gavin?” Her voice was small and quiet. He barely heard her, but his eyes still shifted to hers, full of fear and sadness. He cupped her cheek lightly. “I’m here; I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” She nodded her head and squeezed her eyes tight. “_ _ _? Don’t think about it; you’re safe, and it’s over he’s gone.” He could see she was struggling. “I’m going to make you a bath. You need to get cleaned up.” She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t leave me…Please.” He nodded. “Come with me then.” He helped her up and held on to her waist tightly to support her as they walked to the large bathroom.

He let go of her hand to turn on the water, then proceeded to a cabinet to pull out a towel and placed it on the floor by the tub. “Here’s a towel you can dry off with. I’ll uh, leave you to clean up.” He closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She started to undress. Once she had removed all of her clothing, she looked at her naked image in the full length mirror, seeing all the scrapes and bruises that tainted her body. She turned away and stepped into the warm water, immediately feeling her sore muscles relax.

After feeling satisfied that she was clean enough, she stepped out of the bath. Reaching for the towel, she dried her hair, then proceeded to wipe all the water droplets from her body when realizing she had no clothes. She wrapped the towel tightly around her body and slowly opened the door. “Gavin, do you have something I could wear?” How had he been so stupid? Of course, she needed clean clothes. “Uh yeah,” He grabbed one of his shirts, hoping it’d be sufficient enough. “Thank you.” She said, closing the door again.

When the door opened again, she emerged wearing his shirt that stopped mid thigh. He had never seen her like this, they had yet to be intimate, but it just made him imagine what was underneath. She walked over to him, putting her head on his chest and closing her eyes, then wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me today” He hugged her close. “Let’s lay in the bed.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed. As she got under the covers, he removed his shoes and pulled the covers over himself, pulling her close to him and wrapping his fluffy tail around her. He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers while searching her eyes.

“I could have lost you today. When I heard your screams, I didn’t know what I’d find. I didn’t know if I’d make it in time.” He put his face in the crook of her neck. “You didn’t lose me; I’m right here with you.” She squeezed his hand. “Yes, you are.” He whispered, his breath tickling her skin.

He kissed the side of her neck, making her shiver. He smiled as he kissed up the side of her neck. Then turned her head so he could kiss her on her plump lips. It was an innocent, gentle peck. She opened her eyes to see his amber ones looking at her tenderly, and she dived back in, putting her hand on his chest. Gavin deepened the kiss by putting his hand on the back of her head and pressing his lips harder into hers. “mmm,” she let out a small, barely audible moan. Motivating Gavin to keep going, he pulled away momentarily. He went in again, giving her an open mouthed kiss, panting he pulled away again, opening his eyes to see hers. Trusting and vulnerable, letting him devour her mouth. “You are the only person who has ever trusted me…Cared about me.” She went in for his lips this time, moving her lips with his and licking his bottom lip. She released his lips, biting his bottom lip as she pulled away. He put his large hands on her cheeks, placing his forehead against hers, and rubbing their noses together.

“I won’t lose you. I can’t…You mean too much.” His lips were immediately drawn back to hers by her hands guiding his face.

She moved her hand to the back of his neck, lacing her fingers through his soft hair. He exhaled loudly through his nose, and she pressed her body against his while their tongues explored each other’s mouths. He released her lips to look at her flushed face. Tracing his finger along her swollen lips. He looked down and kissed her exposed chest. His fingers felt her collarbones, and he looked her in the eyes for any distress, any hesitation. “I want to touch you. I want to feel all of you under my fingertips.” He whispered in a husky voice, “Will you let me?” She leaned in and kissed him gently, feather light. Then she put her head back on her pillow, taking his hand, kissing each one of his fingertips. Still holding onto his hand, she placed it on her chest, just above her breast. “Touch me, Gavin,” She said lowly “I am yours to explore.” She didn’t have to repeat herself. He brushed his fingertips over her body over the thin shirt she wore, and he let out a deep animalist growl.

Her breathing quickened, and her heart was hammering against her chest. Gavin brushed his fingers over her breasts, feeling the shape of them, their fullness until finally brushing over her sensitive nipples, making them harden. Gavin’s head bent down, and he kissed each of her breasts, then softly pinching her nipples. “ah,” her moan made his cock twitch. Encouraging him to go further. He pushed her down gently so she was laying on her back, and his hands went to her sides, feeling her curves and moving them to her hips. Going lower until his fingers found the hem of the shirt, slipping his hand underneath. Putting his hand on her soft belly, he looked at her, flushed face with half lidded, lust filled eyes. She looked over at him. Stunning, she radiated beauty. Slowly he went higher until his large hand enveloped her breast. Squeezing and massaging, he kissed up her neck, nipping gently at her skin, tasting her. He inhaled her scent, licking the spot that had turned red.

As he continued kissing her neck and massaging her breast. His fingers brushed against the side of her breast. As he lightly dragged his fingers around the mound of flesh, he felt the velvety softness of her skin. His fingers wandered to the top of her breast, slowly deliberately, still kissing her skin. Just before his fingers reached her nipple, his hand halted, and he licked up the side of her neck before unclasping their hands and turning her head so he could ravish her mouth with his tongue.

His fingers moved again, inching toward her nipple. Teasing, he circled her nipple. Electrifying kiss after kiss, Gavin finally took her nipple between two fingers and gently pinched, making it instantly harden. He twisted it gently, not meaning her harm, but pleasure. “Mmm,” she moaned into his mouth, urging him on, he lightly flicked at it over and over again, making her unintentionally rub her legs together, feeling tingles in her pussy, and heat building up in her lower belly. She broke the kiss, squirming she rolled on her side towards him.

Gavin took the opportunity to toy with her other breast to slide his other hand under the fabric that now had become an annoyance. He kissed behind her ear, licking around it then nibbling on her earlobe before sucking it in his mouth. She had never felt this alive, this stimulated. She arched her back as he pinched both her nipples in tandem. “Ahh,” her sigh made him want more, to hear more. His hands were removed from her sensitive nipples, and his tail moved out from under her so that he could adjust his position. He pulled at the shirt, helping her remove it. He kissed her as soon as he dropped it to the floor, feeling her bare shoulders. She started tugging at Gavin’s shirt, eventually untucking it from his pants. He broke the kiss. “I-I want to touch you too, Gavin.” He complied, lifting his shirt over his head, and throwing it in some random direction, Ge went to kiss her again, but she pressed her palm against his chest. Feeling down his abdominals to the waist of his pants, putting her finger under the waistband, “All of you.” He read the message loud and clear, slipping his pants off and dropping them to the floor.

He positioned himself above her and looked at the lust in her eyes, her pupils dilated. Feeling her skin, he rested his hands on the curve of her hips. He kissed along her jaw down her neck. He shifted to hover over her. Smiling at her, his face went to her chest. He was kissing from her collar bones to in between her bare, ample breasts. Then he licked with the tip of his tongue right between them. His hand went to one of her breasts, toying with her nipple once again, only for his tongue to lick her other nipple. He licked it with the flat of his tongue then kissed the very tip before enclosing his lips on it, suckling. He bit gently and pulled at the flexible skin before releasing it and performing the same thing to the other side, meanwhile taking his hand and feeling down her abdomen, exploring every inch of her skin.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. She could feel his arousal against her hip. Her hands drifted to his back, touching the muscles that moved as he moved. She ran her fingers over every scar. As they explored each other’s skin, his hands eventually found their way under the blankets to the side of her thighs. He rubbed them, feeling all around. Finally, having the courage to bring his dominant hand to her inner thigh, he spread her legs with his knees. She bent her knees and spread her legs further.

He slowly moved his hand from the inside of her thigh to cup her pussy. She gasped, but he kept going feeling the shape of her pussy. Making him harder by the second. He had his fingers splayed on her pubic bone. When he paused and planted light kisses on her chest, still devouring her breasts, he removed his palm from her heat, and with two fingers, he dragged them into her labia. “Ohhh” He moved his face to her ear. “If you want me to stop, just say the words, and I will. “No! Don’t stop, please. Touch me, Gavin.” He kissed her earlobe as he continued sliding his fingers until finally, he found her nub. He pressed down on it, putting just a bit of pressure on it. “Right here?” She nodded vigorously. “Y-es,” He moved his finger, still pressing down on her nub, “like this?” He asked, circling it counterclockwise. “Ahhh…y-yes the-th-that’s uhh…mmm g-g-good.” He smiled “good” He switched his tempo going in tight circle eights.

He looked at her face, her cheeks flushed, her eyes rolling back. He stopped momentarily to prod at her entrance with his fingertip, feeling the wetness gathered there.

“So wet” his finger entered her, curling upwards, finding the rough patch. He titled his hand so he could reach her clit with his thumb, then joined another finger. “ahhhh…Gav.” He thrust his fingers into her tight hole, feeling her walls squeezing his fingers. He found the spot that made her moan every…Single…Time he hit it. Circling her numb with his thumb, he continued thrusting his fingers, adding a third finger.

Her legs started shaking on their own accord. She was getting close, oh so close. With the hand that wasn’t busy in her heat, he pinched her nipple, rolling it in between his fingers. Her back arched. “Ahh..” He smiled, hearing her noises, and as his hands attacked her sensitive spots, he kissed down her torso under the blanket. Stopping at her hip bone, he sucked at the skin there. Switching breasts and playing with the other nipple, she started squirming. He finally settled his head between her legs. “H-hang on” Worried, he couldn’t breathe, she kicked the blanket off, and his hand was removed from her breast to spread her labia, exposing her swollen clit to him. He licked the flat of his tongue up it twice. Her hands gripped the sheets as she continued thrusting his fingers inside of her. He took the tip of his tongue and rubbed her overly sensitive clit. Getting a good rhythm, his hand returned to her breast squeezing her breast, then pulling, pinching, and rolling her nipples, alternating breasts every so often.

She started panting. When he took her clit in his mouth, suckling, her legs squeezed his head. He proceeded to suck and lick, pinching and pulling, thrusting and scissoring. She could hear the noises her wetness was making as he pleasured her wanting pussy. He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it, making her chest heave as quite literally overstimulated her. Shockwaves went down each vertebra of her spine, her toes curling as a bright white light shone behind her eyelids. She opened her eyes, breathing hard. Gavin let go of her clit and looked up, locking his eyes with hers. “Did you just come?” She smiled. “Yes,” He smiled, then rocked back on his knees, exposing himself to her. He drew out his fingers from her warmth, putting them in his mouth cleaning her juices off. “I’m not even close to being done with you.” Her eyes widened. “What about you?” She looked down at his erect cock, precum leaking from the tip. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

She sat up, kissing him and gently rubbing the tip of his cock, rubbing the precum around the sensitive head. “Mmmm,” he moaned into her mouth, making her smile. She broke the kiss taking his hand. Laying back down, she pulled him with her. He laid next to her with his head hitting the pillow. She was determined to show him just how much she loved him, so she straddled his. She kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth, then wrapped her hand around his cock, and he made a noise similar to whining. She started, stroking slowly with steady hands. She drew away smiling as his pupils dilated. She kissed down his neck, biting him gently, trying not to leave a mark. When she came to his nipples, she pinched each one and licked them, Making his head lull back in the pillow. Slow, so painfully slow, he thrust his hips into her palm.

“Patience, my love.” She said, kissing him by his navel. Until finally, she came to his erect cock. He watched her as she kissed the head and proceeded to kiss down to the base. She closed her eyes and licked the underneath of his shaft. “Ahh,” he couldn’t contain it. He didn’t know the last time he felt this good. Once back to the tip, she opened her eyes and kissed it more. Her tongue circled his sensitive head as she rubbed the underside of the head with her thumb. He gripped her hair, and she opened her mouth, letting his cock enter her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue glided around his cock as she took as much of him in her mouth as possible. Still having her hand wrapped around the base, she stroked and started sliding her mouth up and down his cock.

Getting into a good rhythm, she took her free hand and fondled his testicles as she continued her ministrations with her mouth. The grip on her hair tightened, and he unintentionally lifted his hips, causing her to gag. “ahh—_ _ _. I’m getting close. If you don’t want me coming in your mouth, then y-you n-n-need to st-op. She knew he was just about there from the way he could form words. She didn’t stop. Though, she didn’t even slow down.

Gavin let out a loud grunt as his release came over him, shooting into her mouth. As he came down from his high, he loosened his grip on her hair and looked at her lovingly. Then deeply blushed when he saw a trace of his release on the side of her mouth. “You didn’t have to do that.” He said, worried that he came in her mouth. “It’s okay. I wanted to.” She crawled up, straddling his hips while leaning down and kissing him, both of them tasting themselves on each other. As her tongue claimed dominance over she rocked on his hips, making him feel the slide of her still wet pussy on his cock, and they both moaned. She did it again, and his hands went to her hips. As she moved along, she put her hand between her legs, pinching her clit then rolling it. She moaned loudly. She occasionally would rock against him. She reached down to her dripping entrance gathering the essence from her arousal and bringing it to her clit, making it feel so much better to rub. Gavin felt his way to her ass, caressing her cheeks and squeezing while she pleasured herself right on top of him. His breath became uneven as he watched her. She pressed her breast with her other hand, pulling at her nipple. This was making him crazy. Realizing she was going a little further than necessary, she wanted to let him have his show. She rocked on him again, this time feeling him harden a bit. She lifted her hips, gripping his cock, and sitting a little further down on his thighs. She replaced her finger with his cock, having the tip make contact with her clit rubbing it up and down. His wolf ears flattened a bit as his cock got harder and harder by the second. She caressed his cock, running her finger over the vein on the underside of his cock.

Deciding he was hard enough, she gave him a deep kiss while simultaneously lifting her hips and bringing her body back down. Finding her entrance with his cock she took it into her. Gavin’s eyes opened as slowly her walls gripped him, stretching her. Once, he was fully seated inside of her. He rubbed her hips. “Sex with a werewolf isn’t the same as it is with a human, but now that I am inside you, I don’t think I could stop.” His hands devoured her body, feeling every inch of her skin. Finally, her put his hands back on her hips, lifting her as he thrust upwards. He watched her breasts bounce as she rode his length. Wanting to take it slow to make it last as long as possible, but wanting to give her the most pleasure. He began to sit up “turn around,” he motioned for her to turn. She let him slip out of her while turning around and sinking back down.

As she started moving, he thrust upwards with her movements. He opened her legs with his hands and held them in place with his legs. “Keep going” He kissed her neck, sucking at the skin there, leaving a considerable mark there. His hands crept to the front of her body, cupping both her breasts and she sped up, making him speed up, letting out a growl. One of his hands pressed on her clit. “Keep going, don’t stop.” She did what he said. Up and down, he started slow, letting her ride him, rubbing her clit in lazy circles. As she began to speed up, so did his tempo on her clit. With a kiss and a bite every now and then, but soon he was thrusting into her, as she tried to bounce as he rubbed her clit fast, making her get quickly overstimulated. “I-I can’t. It’s too much.” He bent her over so she was on her hands and knees as he kneeled behind her, his tail giving a little wag in excitement. His ears flattened, and he growled as he started thrusting hard. His skin hitting her skin, he went fast and hard, but in such a delicious way. They sighed and moaned, and when he brought his hand to her clit he pinched it, making her squeal. Then rubbing it fast, her face hit the mattress with him holding the rest of her up while she clenched her fists. He could feel her walls fluttering, ready to contract. He hoped he’d bring her to her high with how fast his was approaching. He shifted his weight, going in at a new angle. “Ohh. I’m going to come.” He went faster, thrusting into her and rubbing her, and finally, the heat took hold of her head, and a burst of intoxicating pleasure washed over her. Her walls spasmed and clenched around his cock. His ears went back with exertion as he fucked her.

“Almost there, just a little more.” He didn’t stop his ministrations on her though right after she felt the high release her, she felt another one coming. “Gavin!” She clamped around him harder this time. “Again?” He asked, with no reply, but finally felt his orgasm coming in fast. He pulled out just as his cock got overly sensitive, giving it two pumps and shooting his warm seed on her ass. Her body couldn’t hold her weight anymore, and she collapsed onto the bed, panting. Gavin’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and he reached for a rag cleaning his release off her backside. He placed gentle kisses on her back and shoulders, then laid beside her, brushing her hair out of her face.

Gavin looked at her worriedly, with remorse etched on his face. “Are you okay?” He searched her eyes, and she smiled. “I’m better than okay” He cupped her cheek, but the look on his face never went away. “I’m sorry, you just went through a substantial trauma, and I took advantage of you.” She pet his ears and gave him a small peck. “No. I wanted to. If I didn’t, I would have asked you to stop. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I hope you did too.” He gave her a tender smile, “How could I not enjoy myself? I hope I wasn’t too rough. I got a bit excited.” You chuckled, “You weren’t. I like it that way.” Gavin’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he tried to look away. She put her hands on his cheeks, turning his face. “I want to see your adorable blushing face.” They searched each other’s eyes. “I love you _ _ _, I hope you know that.” Gavin kissed her forehead, “I love you too, Gavin.” She nuzzled into his chest, clinging onto him as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

#mr love queen’s choice fanfic #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc gavin #Gavinsmexytime #n.s.f.w.#angst #baddassmc

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arthurflecksgirl · 3 years

Note

Hey, how is your day going so far? I hope it's splendid! Can I request an Arthur x reader where the reader is recovering from self harm and he is proud of them? You can choose it to be sfw or nsfw. Thanks in advance! :)

Hey Anon, Thank you for your ask. I 'm okay and I hope you are doing well,too?! I am soooo sorry this took me so long but I finally sat down today and wrote your request. I was thinking about that request since you first send it to me. It was a beautiful one but also a tough one. Itˋs a sensitive subject and I was struggeling with how I wanted to write it. I was afraid to write it in a way you wouldnt approve so I am a bit nervous posting this and I hope with all my heart that you will like the result. This request was close to my heart but a bit of a struggle until I finally sat down. I am sending love to anyone. Especially everyone who had to go through this or still does go through it.

Words: 1900

Trigger warning: Mentions of self harm

Arthur nervously chewed on his pencil ,while the blank page of his journal was staring at him like it expected something good to happen. More than one good thing happened in his life recently and he absolutely hated how difficult it was for him to put his emotions into words. Words worthy of how he truly felt about not being alone anymore. He felt like the emotion of it was a seed he didnt knew how to water properly ,to make it the flower that was a written page in his diary. One he would like to show to you , randomly in the middle of the night. To proof how he felt inside. Blooming.

He always felt like he wasnˋt good with words but so much better with showing his feelings off in a different way. A movement of his body when you were slow dancing across the bedroom, a piece of music hummed into your ear while he was pulling you closer, the touch of his thumb brushing your cheek before he leaned in to kiss you. Body language was his way to express what was growing deep inside of him. A love so immessurable, he was becoming a new man. And you were his garden he wanted to spent the rest of his life in. He wanted to build a cabin right in the middle of the gardens heart and plant roses and violets. Once he figured out how to water them and which flowers demend more sunlight or which ones prefered the shadows. He wanted to learn every aspect of your soul. Flower by flower. Petal by petal. To let his roots grow towards yours. Arthur touched the artificial flowers on his desk. They reminded him of who he used to be. Unreal and far from what he desired to be. No sunlight could have touched him enough to let him grow.

Until there was you. His garden. He finally became what he was supposed to be. A sunflower. The flower of joy and happiness. But also the flower of the man who once drank yellow painting to commit suicide by putting happiness inside himself. At least that was the rumor Arthur heard on tv when he watched a documentary about Vincent Van Gogh. And he was quiet fascinated by it. Somehow the though was relateable to him. In a very abstact, sad, beautiful way.

„Last week“ he wrote , trying to draw a sunflower but it just didnt turned out the way he intented to. „She finally felt comfortable enough to wear a short sleeve in front of me. I guess that means she really does feel save around me. Ah, it means the world!“ Arthur smiled to himself when he drew a tiney heart and filled it in. His heart was so full of you. Just thinking about the way you took off your comfort sweater for the first time to show him the scars of the past ,created a feeling in his heart he couldnˋt name.

It has been a while since you let him know about your struggles with self harm. And Arthur could tell that it wasnˋt an easy thing to do. He would always remember the moment he first saw your naked arms. The pattern of hurt on your fragile skin. This moment of vulnerability and strengh. He wanted to kiss it. Arthur wanted to kiss along every single scar to show you how beautiful you were to him and how much he belived in the power of a gentle lip kissing where it hurts the most. But he didnˋt. Arthur wasnˋt sure if it was the right moment yet. He didnt wanted to do anything wrong. So he just sat there, thinking about placing kisses all over, while he picked his own eyebrow with his fingers.

„One day“ he wrote underneath the heart „I will kiss her scars and she will feel what I felt when she was taking care of me“. Arthur put the pencil down and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Smoke filled his lungs but he wished it was your breath instead.

A familiar noise interrupted his daydream as he put the remains of the cig in his pink ashtray. „Hey darling, Iˋm home“. Your voice made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The way you called him darling was music in his ears. His favourite song he repeated in his head when he was at work or taking the bus. He sometimes hummed the words „Hey darling“ , as if it was a prayer. „Hey darling Iˋm home“. Home. That was never the word he would have used to discribe the place he was living in. Never what he thought of when he felt the worn fabric of his couch underneath his naked skin or was lying in the bathtube, checking for how long he could handle to keep his head under water. This place with all itˋs heavyness wasnˋt home. But it transformed into a home eveytime you opened the door to wrap your arms around him. A genlte kiss upon his forehead. His noticlable frown underneath your lips. Hey darling, Iˋm home. You are home, finally. We are. A home.

Arthur shifted his position ,so your lips immediately found their way to his forehead. „Forehead kisses“ he thought „Are her way to tell me how much she cares“. He closed his eyes for a moment. His dark lashes covering his piercing eyes like a curtain, to feel the moment with all itˋs gentleness. When Arthur opened his eyelids again he noticed something wrapped around your wrist. His heart stopped for a moment. The thought of you harming yorself again hit him so hard he forgot how to breathe. „Y/N…are you….okay? Oh my god…“ Arthurs index finger reached out for your wrist. He barely dared touching it. His tear filled eyes blurring his sight.

„Yeah, I am. How was your day, Arthur?“ you replied as you sat down on his lap to kiss the corner of his mouth. You noticed his lips trembling underneath your own. A tiney earthquake emerging from within. His day was okay while he was sittin on his desk thinking of all the beautiful things he could write to you. Until you came home with a hurt wrist. Now nothing remained okay. Seeing you hurt was worse than his own pain. Your wound was his wound. Arthur held your face between his hands, unable to responde with a kiss.

„Are you…. Are you hurt?“ he whispered, pointing at your bandage. He wanted to be here for you. Now more than ever. His mind was travelling back to the day you found him with a bleeding forehead after he hit his head against the wall. He recalled your hand resting on the spot that hurt so much and how it lead to the first forehead kiss he received in his life. Thatsˋs when he knew he wasnˋt all alone in this anymore. Thats when he knew that, yes there will be bad days , even together but he didnt had to face them on his own anymore. There was someone looking after him. Someone willing to ease the pain. To heal his wounds. Old or recent. He remembered how gently you held his hurting head, fingers brushing back his hair to clean the wound. Heˋll never forget the first act of kindness and love from a loved one.

And now it was his turn to tell you itˋs going to be okay. His turn to take care of your wounds.

„No baby, Iˋm not hurt. Iˋve got a little suprise for you…“ Arthurˋs eyes glanced deeply into yours „A…. surprise? What do you mean?“

You lifted your arm smiling at him. Thats when he noticed your wrist wasnˋt bandaged but wrapped in some kinda foil. You slowly started to unwrap it, a big smile lingering on your face. „Darling, I hope you like it“.

Arthur couldnt belive his eyes. Were once was a scar six letters showed. Written on your wrist. Six letters so familar, he started sobbing.

„Oh Arthur….“ You touched his cheek „You like it?“

He covered his mouth with his right hand, mumbling.

„I thought about this for a while now. Getting your name tattooed to cover my oldest scar“.

A single tear ran down his happy face „Thats…. Just…. Wow. I…. donˋt know what to say. Thatˋs my name. You got a tattoo of my name. „ Arthur couldnt stop staring at the letters. „Can I….touch it?“.

You smiled „Not yet, itˋs still fresh and I need to put some cream on it.“

„Oh! Yeah…. Of course.“

Arthur tried to understand what was happpening right now. A minute ago he was afraid you hurt yourself again and now he found himself looking at a tattoo that was his very own name. Part of you.

He felt your other hand touching his blushing cheek „I really wanted this to remind me of how beautiful things can happen after experiencing so much pain. There is this scar and itˋs still there but somehow it belongs to my past and it doesn´t define me. It never did. And now there is you. The light that came after the dark. The one who understands my scars and eases the pain by loving me for who I am. I love you, Arthur, I love you so much itˋs so demanding and beautiful and …..now youˋre always on my mind, in my heart and under my skin.“

Arthur gently lifted your hand, careful enough to not touch the tattoo. „I love you“ he whispered „Can I…. can I kiss your…“ goosebumps covered your skin as his upper lip found itˋs way to travel across your arm. Soft kisses, thoughtful and warm, scar after scar. You couldnt help but cry a little. Arthur froze „My god, Iˋm sorry I only wanted to…“

„Donˋt stop“ you whispered through the tears „Please….“

The light in Arthurs eyes came back when he realized it was happy tears running down your cheeks. Tears of relief and inner peace.

„Remember when you found me after….“

„I do, Arthur.“

„That was the first time I felt truly loved“ he breathed, while he continued kissing your skin.

„You found me at my worst. And loved me. Especially where it hurt the most“

You closed your eyes, concentrating on the softness of his lips. His presence was medicine. Calming and warm like a favourite sweater.

You remembered very well. It was the day you knew that you would give the world to protect this man. The beautiful soul that Arthur was. You couldnt change his past but write his future. You and him together. Sitting in front of a blank page, where anything was possible. Every yet unborn poem was demanding to be written. Every small moement of happiness. And when the pages get torn and some parts get blacked out, you would be here to put a sticker on it. Heart shaped. One thatˋs glowing in the dark. So when he openes his journal at night he couldnt see the scribbles and blacked out parts. Only the bandage that was love.

Just like the words written on your wrist.

Arthur.

„I wanna do the same for you“ he mumbled between the kisses „Loving you where it hurts the most…so...“ he lifted his face, looking at you „…where does it hurt?“

„Every inch untouched by your loving hands“.

Only a heartbeat later Arthurs thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip as he whispered „Let me take care of that“.

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clefairymuke · 4 years

Text

regrets | chapter ten

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairings: levi ackerman x reader / eren jaeger x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 2135

You took a few steps on your own today. It was fleeting before you fell on your ass, but it was progress nonetheless. You were grateful to hear Hange's excited squeals, and Jean and Connie's brotherly encouragement, but it felt difficult to allow a smile to cross your face. Something was bothering you today.

When Jean dropped you off, you saw no sign of Levi despite the setting sun. You were alone with your thoughts for what felt like the first time in a while; six days felt so long to you for some reason, and the past month felt like at least a year. Something had been nagging at the back of your mind all day -- distracting you from your physical therapy, preventing you from laughing with your friends, allowing unneeded stress into your already overwhelmed mind.

That morning, on your way to meet Hange, you were hanging from Jean's arm as you limped through the growing grass. He was still making jokes about Levi, now calling him your boyfriend, but you entertained it. The two of you could barely get any words in between your howls of laughter, until a single pair of green eyes managed to ruin your mood completely. Eren was sat atop a wooden fence, Armin sitting crosslegged on one side of him while Mikasa stood on the other. You let your eyes dance freely over to him for a second, but that was an awful decision. He was already looking at you intently. He offered you a small smile, but you could see that his eyes were sad. You smiled back.

Even if you didn't want to be with Eren, it still hurt that he never came back to talk to you. As you stared at the ceiling above, you wondered if you were a bad person. Eren was a good guy, you thought, and you did lead him on to some extent. You wondered for a moment if you should've given it a chance, then shook your head at yourself. It would be completely unfair to him to pretend you felt something that you didn't; then again, the current situation wasn't fair to him either. You were perpetually trapped between a rock and a hard place.

You rubbed your eyes before running both hands through your hair, pulling just slightly. You found yourself, strangely enough, wishing that Levi was there. It was nice to have someone that you could talk endlessly to and yet still share long, comfortable silences. He was decent company. Your ears and face perked up as you heard the door start open, but it wasn't Levi.

"Hey, can we talk?" Eren stood timidly in the doorway awaiting your answer, his face drawn in like he was expecting a harsh "no." Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you sat up hurriedly. You were sure that your anxiety was prominent on your face.

"Yeah, of course," you answered calmly, attempting to regain your composure. Eren walked in and took a seat in Levi's chair, looking down. It reminded you of how he looked when you rejected him -- defeated, yet still attempting to maintain his pride. He opened his mouth many times before he actually began to speak, leaving you wondering if you should be the one to start this dreaded conversation.

"I'm sorry for leaving like that, and for not coming back. I --" he coughed like something was caught in his throat. "Um, sorry. This is a little bit awkward for me," he chuckled uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. "I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk about it."

"Yeah, for sure," you gulped. Your vision flitted desperately around the room for anything to latch onto besides his sad green eyes. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, you know. I didn't know you felt that way; honestly, I didn't know if I felt that way, either. I liked things the way they were. I never meant to hurt you," you told him, your racing heart beginning to beat a smidgen more slowly. You tried your best to smile at him. It likely came off as more of a frown.

He nodded slowly, his eyes still brimming with melancholy and his face still tense as stone. "I liked things the way they were, too. I shouldn't have tried to take it further; I guess I just felt like we were going somewhere. I shouldn't have left you here like that either. I just wish none of this would've ever happened," he admitted, rubbing between his glassy eyes with his right hand. "The time we spent together was always really nice, wasn't it?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you nodded. "It was." You could feel it coming before it came, a feeling of pure dread washing over you as he leaned closer toward you. You felt the smallest bit of curiosity join in, too.

"I miss you," he confessed quietly as his lips closed in on yours. When you allowed him to kiss you, you didn't expect it to be so passionate. His hand caressed your cheek so gently, and his lips slid past yours so softly. His other hand rested on your thigh, his thumb drawing circles. It all felt so -- wrong. When he pulled away, you knew without a doubt how you felt. Entertaining it would help nothing. You sighed internally, wondering how to let him down a second time.

"Eren, I don't know --" He shushed you, clearly misunderstanding your tone. He started to lean in again, and you swallowed. "Eren, I don't want this." He leaned away quickly, taking his hands away from your body to land defeatedly in his lap.

You saw a tinge of anger in his eyes before he cast them to the floor. You fidgeted awkwardly and wondered what to say next, but he beat you to it. "You're hard to read, you know. It seemed like you really wanted me -- before I said I wanted you, at least. Is that what did it? Did I move too fast?"

If there's anything you knew, it was to take an out when you had one. "Yeah, honestly. I'm not sure what would have happened if you hadn't. Regardless, though, I don't feel that way about you. I'm not sure if I would have, but honestly, probably not." It was the truth; you considered for a moment that he had you all figured out. Then again, how could he know more about you than you did? The two of you had messed around for what, a week and a half?

"Ouch." You watched his previously soft and sad face harden into anger. "I wish you wouldn't have led me on like this. I wouldn't have done anything with you if I didn't feel at least something small. You should be ashamed."

You drew in a quick breath, bordering on a gasp, as your mind raced to find a suitable reply. The hatred dripping from his voice left your mouth slightly agape, hundreds of words forming behind your tongue but never reaching past your lips. You felt small tears prick at your eyes; whether they were from sadness, anger, or shame was unknown to you.

"I think it may be time to go, Eren," you heard Levi speak from the door, two teacups in one hand and the pot in the other. How incriminating. You figured Levi thought nothing of it -- he rarely ever saw the same nuance behind certain gestures that others tended to notice, like a young, female soldier having nightly tea with her superior after being reprimanded for having sex with another scout while on duty. You hoped Eren was too angry to notice.

He wasn't. He looked up at you, eyes still full of anger but his mouth drawn up in disgust. He got up rather roughly, the chair rattling a bit as he stalked toward the door. "Thanks for the talk. Goodnight, Captain," he muttered as he left.

Levi strode in like nothing had happened, setting up the table and taking a seat, as he had done five times before. You stared at him, knowing your eyes were still widened. When he began to pour the tea, you struggled to hold in a laugh. He paused, looking over at you inquisitively. "Did I do something funny?" he asked, concerned. You watched the eyebrow lift. Always that eyebrow.

"Oh, Levi," you sighed. "You brought a tea set to my infirmary room when no one is typically here, and someone saw you. The fact that you showed up at all is incriminating."

Levi scoffed, continuing to pour the tea. "I thought something serious was happening. Not everyone has a mind like you and Jean. I doubt that it would be anyone's first thought." He set the pot down and looked back up at you. He rested his arms on either side of the cup, shaking his head.

"It was the first thought in Eren's. Didn't you see how angry he looked?" you questioned. Surely, you thought, he wasn't that oblivious.

"Sure it was. Eren's always angry. Plus, he was jealous," he said bluntly, finally taking a sip of his tea. Everything he did was so nonchalant.

It stung a little, being pulled back to your conversation with Eren. You hated how angry he was, but you figured nothing could be done. You nodded, sighing, and lifted your cup in response to him. "Yeah, he was pretty upset."

"He wasn't upset, he was pissed. He wasn't being very polite to you, and you looked like you were about to cry. How long had he been on like that?" One thing you had learned about Levi that you didn't know before is that he was incredibly curious.

"You showed up pretty much as soon as he got angry. Before that he was all sad and stuff. It took him a while to actually understand what I was trying to tell him," you told him, the tiniest bit embarrassed. Talking to Levi was easy, but not without its reservations.

"And you were trying to tell him . . .?"

"When I first got hurt, Eren came to see me. He started talking about how I meant a lot to him. I guess you could say it freaked me out. I told him I didn't feel the same way and basically broke things off," you began, one hand tugging at your hair. Levi listened intently.

"That's a valid reaction," he commented as he sipped his tea. "I would do the same."

Joke or otherwise, it drew a laugh out of you before you continued. "He stormed out, and I hadn't spoken to him since, until today. He showed up unannounced and told me he wanted to talk. I was a little embarrassed and anxious, but I didn't mind it. I didn't have any issues with him being here."

"Of course not."

"So we talked about it. I was trying to avoid hurting his feelings, but I think he completely misunderstood. I was trying to tell him that I don't feel that way about him. Instead of getting that and moving on, he goes the other route and tells me he misses me. Then he kissed me. I started to tell him that I didn't know if I was comfortable with that, but he just tried to kiss me again. He finally got it when I told him no, and that's when he got pissed off. That's when you showed up." You drank from your cup, waiting for Levi's response. It was unlikely, you thought, but maybe he had some advice.

He sat there for a moment, thinking. After a few long seconds, he set down his teacup and reached his hand out to you. The gesture was foreign, but not nearly as foreign as the feeling when his fingers brushed your knuckles and his palm came to rest on the back of your hand. None of the rest of his body moved, no leaning in or smirking lips. Just a single comforting touch. "Are you okay?" he asked as you stared conspicuously at his hand atop yours.

You nodded your head at him. "I'm fine. I just wasn't looking forward to that conversation. It didn't go nearly as well as I had hoped," you admitted, chewing the inside of your lip. "It was pretty upsetting when he spoke to me that way."

He pulled his hand away and went back to his tea, his eyes understanding. "It'll be fine. I don't think you were in the wrong, if that helps anything."

You weren't really listening, still staring down at your hand. The warmth from his hand was fading, but something else wasn't. It tingled all over, in every spot he had touched.

How strange.

#levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager #Eren Jaeger #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #AoT #snk x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin #slowburn #enemies to lovers #aot fic

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

Text

Walls / Dan Torrance Imagine

Request: So, I absolutely love your Dan Torrance imagines! I also love Doctor Sleep as well! Could I request an imagine where the reader (her name is Rebecca, by the way!) and Dan are married. Dan is worried that his beloved will be harmed by the ghosts of Dan's past and he will protect her at all costs. Dan also survives the whole ordeal! Make it as long as you can and feel free to change anything if you need to! 💙

This is for my wonderful friend @thebeckyjolene, I really hope you’re doing well today darling!

I tried to do a bit of a different writing style with this one, so if you enjoyed, comments are always appreciated! :)

Dan Torrance didn’t remember these walls.

The building, perhaps. The lights, the furniture, the shadows that flickered in the corner of his eyes as he turned and twisted round the wall’s corners: yes. The walls themselves, though, seem distorted. Changed. Taunting.

Or perhaps, he realised, it was all a matter of perspective. All a matter of eyes. He wasn’t sure whose eyes he was looking through right at the moment: he was just a little, insignificant squeak in the back of his head. How ironic, he thought. How ironic that all these years I’ve locked them up, safe and tight in these boxes, and yet now I’m the one trapped inside my mind instead. With each passing face, the walls that wound towards Room 237 seemed to shift, the decorations sometimes vibrant, outmoded, the next second the wallpaper crumbling and peeling and decaying, splattered with blood.

He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. Each stamp of his boots along the tile seemed to drag him just that little bit further into the belly of the beast - each pound echoing across the ground suckering him just that little bit more, until he began wondering where his shoes ended and the floors of the Overlook began.

The floor. The floor. That he remembered. That grotesque, repugnant shade of orange that cornered in the red hexagons. How long he had spent away from the company of his parents, staring at that floor and wishing he could just go home. The days when his feet would barely touch it, and he would fly, knowing in his heart that he was trying to escape something. The ghosts, or his father, he wasn’t still entirely sure. Perhaps, in the end, there was no difference really. He swallowed thickly, passing the elevator that gleamed white in comparison, still as fresh looking as the day he had arrived here. Despite his face, he still couldn’t bring himself to look at it properly, trying to hold his shudder as he drew himself back from the hotel and bumped his knee against one of the cushioned seats he had seen in his nightmares every night since he was five years old.

He never thought he would hear your feet run across these same floors, speeding along the path his tricycle used to take down the looping corridors, both filled with the same unknown, foreboding dread that they weren’t going to like the shadows that appeared behind them as they turned the corner. They weren’t going to like the consequences of opening doors, of wakening ghosts that were only too riled up to be disturbed. Yet neither of you could help it, the hotel knew only too well how to draw its victims in. He managed to strangle out a sob at the thought, his gut wrenching cries the only thing to be heard in the hallway as his hand pulled and grasped at his jacket, trying to pull himself back. His wife, the light of his life, the only thing in this world he couldn’t bear, wouldn’t allow to have torn away from him again. The Overlook only laughed at his threats, his grievances, whispering in his ear that it was his turn to be the caretaker now.

She must take her medicine, after all. Just like the rest. Rebecca must take her medicine.

And so the door to Room 237 swung shut for the second time that day. In rhythm with the hinges, the beat of an axe hammered against its wood as it closed.

‘Rebecca...Rebecca you need to run. I can’t- I can’t hold them off for much longer. I can’t... I can’t hurt you... I can’t do it.’

The sight of you standing on that mouldy purple carpet was enough to bring tears springing to Danny’s eyes. With the last mount of energy, and desperation he could muster, he forced every cell in his body to stop moving. Slowly, yet surely, his knees still bent and he took a further step towards you, axe now dragging familiarly along the ground.

‘I won’t leave you to the same fate as your father, Danny. This isn’t you, this isn’t us.’

Your husband, his face paling with each step towards you, sneers, lips unnaturally curling up at the corners. He readies to swing his axe, thumbs tight against the wood, but his hands slightly falter just as it reaches his shoulder.

‘What would you know about us?’

You reach up towards him - your Danny, your husband. You could see him struggling, little beads of perspiration on his forehead, and eyes scrunching closed in absolute agony. Your fingers land on his cheek, and you can feel the muscle ripple under your touch, but in all the exertion you don’t miss the slight tilt of his head towards your touch.

‘I know you’re a false face, and that you don’t understand who you’re pretending to be. I know my husband, and he’s strong, and he’s brilliant, and he’s so unbelievably kind. He could never hurt me-’. you reach over his shoulder to tug on his left hand, not letting go until your hand brushed over his wedding ring. His ring finger shook against yours, face seeming to blur and melt against and within itself like new snow. Yet, his hold on his axe began to slip, until it finally fell onto the floor. ‘More than that, he’s smarter than you will ever be.’

‘What- what do you mean?’

‘You, false face, had better start running. It’s only a matter of time before the belly of this place eats you up as well.’

Something akin to familiarity begins to brighten his eyes, and your sense of hope flickers again in your stomach as you feel his fingers twitch against yours. Suddenly, he seems to shake himself awake, gasping as if awakening from a horrible dream. He nearly falls away from you, but your thumb digs into his skin until he collapses back down onto your shoulders. You can feel him shiver as he holds you, but you don’t let go. You knew the strength it had taken him to chase away his ghosts, to keep you safe from everything within himself, and the only way you could think to return the favour was by letting him clutch onto your jacket until his breathing had settled.

‘There you are’, you whisper into the shell of his ear. ‘There you are.’

‘I’m sorry Rebecca’, he gasps out, pulling away until you can see how quickly his eyes are blinking to draw away the tears. He half-laughs, half-sighs as his weary fingers cup your cheeks, rubbing little circles into your skin. ‘It was the only way I knew I could keep them from getting to you. I was... I was just afraid. I was so afraid they would get you too.’

You inhaled sharply, tugging slowly on his fingers as if asking him silently to follow you. To trust you. And he did, with all his heart, he did. He would wander these walls for the rest of his life if you had asked him too.

Instead, you try to smile up at him, but it ends up looking like a pained grimace more than anything. ‘It’s alright, it’s alright, but we need to go now Danny. We need to run.’

He felt a pang in his heart, knowing that nothing in this black hole of a place would ever let him leave. Not really. It had consumed his father, it had consumed him, and he would be damned if he was going to let it take his wife without him giving a proper fight. Without him giving every last piece of himself he had to give, until he knew you had escaped.

‘But the boiler-’

‘It’s already taken care of. You mumble so much in your sleep about this place, I think I could switch them on with my eyes closed’, you chuckle.

‘Come on, it’s time we finally leave these walls to smoulder.’

#doctor sleep #doctor sleep imagine #dan torrance #dan torrance imagine #dan torrance x reader #dan torrance fluff #the shining #ewan mcgregor #danny torrance #doctor sleep fanfic #doctor sleep fanfiction

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lavendersies · 3 years

Note

Willuz prompts:

- Willow and her bumblebee Palisman grow an extravagant topiary of her and Luz, adorned with beautiful bouquets of flowers (as well as make delicious honey) for Luz to thank her for everything.

- Kind of a recap of Season 1's Luz and Willow adventures, but with the notable highlight that Willow gives Luz an appropriate flower bouquet as thanks of helping her out (can be combined with previous prompt if preferable)

- Amity and Hunter argue which of the two Luz loves the most, only to find Luz on a date/making out with Willow in a secluded, forested area, maybe with blossoming flowers (this is a non-serious fic as an allegory to the whole shipping war at the moment, but could come off as a bit mean :P)

- Luz practices with her Glyphs once more to make nice flowers and topiaries for Willow.

- Willow has a crush on Luz and can't help but feel a little jealous when she and Amity get close instead. Willow is too shy to confess her feelings for Luz, fearing rejection, and doesn't want to be in hot water with Amity again after they're finally getting along since their breach years ago. Willow wants to be happy for them, but Gus notices her depression.

- Boscha has thrashed Willow's beautiful plant garden, a passion project that's been taken years, and Willow is despaired by this, too depressed to continue and rebuild. Luz decides to fix the garden and improve it.

@Arendalphaeagle gave theses wonderful prompts so I have went with fourth one. The request was suppose to be uploaded on A03 but it didn't work out so until further notice all Willuz requests will be uploaded here. Feel free to drop ya'll request in my ask box. Enjoy.

A flower for Willow

Luz tapped the symbol emitting a green light and a single flower merge. She looks over at her spell book that specializes in plant magic for something new. She had committed her time to mastering a new glyph, hoping it would create the perfect gift for Willow. Luz didn't care if she spent the whole night out here and woke up with tired eyes caked with crust. Starting earlier this week would have been the wise thing to do but studying for her witch classes ate up the time. In a sluggish motion the sun disappeared behind the trees, allowing the moon to provide a dim light and usher in darkness. Luz casted a luminous orb as she read the instruction on how to evoke multiple flowers. She read the guide once more then traced the symbol on paper and activated it. A patch of lavender and lilac flowers bloom before her, this was just what she needed. Luz would allow her artistic skills to do the rest, she took her book and went inside.

She found Eda knocked out on the couch with an empty cup of apple blood dangling from her hand. A smile spread on her lips seeing the grey-haired witch in her apple blood coma. King was probably upstairs waiting for Luz's return so they could continue watching an anime series that she had downloaded on her phone. Upon entering the room Luz sees King scowling one of his stuffed animals.

When he noticed her presence. He stopped chiding the pink rabbit, "Oh hey Luz, are you ready to watch soul eater with me?" He asked, sitting on the sleeping mat.

"Not tonight love," She replied.

"Why not?!" King whined.

Luz faced the opposite direction and stripped from her outwear into pj's. She put them near the mat and got out her sketch pad.

"I have to finish a gift for Willow," she said, sitting down to begin sketching her friend's face.

"You can finish it tomorrow, I've been watching all week for us to watch soul eater!"

"Sorry King, I promise we will watch it together tomorrow" she assured.

The furry demon grumbled under his breath and joined her on the mat. "What are you drawing anyways?" He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

"A picture of Willow" she responded.

"What's the occasion?"

"None, I just want to do something nice for my friend," she said.

"Do you have anything else in mind?"

Luz had finished Willow's eyes and moved on to her nose, "Tomorrow I'm

going to create a plant statue with this picture".

"I want a plant statue of me!" King cried.

Luz chuckled.

"And you've been doing a lot for Willow lately, last week you went out of your way to get her that plant baby".

Luz's heart raced, she already knew the next words coming, "She sounds more than a friend" King commented.

"Friends do things for each other all the time" Luz struggled to tolerate her frisky heart, hoping the tone of her voice wasn't a dead give away.

"Eh, if you say so."

The room fell in silence and Luz worked diligently on Willow's portrait. The plant witch dominates her thoughts, now her heart flutters thinking of those olive green eyes behind the thin-rimmed glasses. The way her ear twitched at sudden noises. Willow had been nothing but a sweet-heart since day, she deserved the world and Luz was willing to give her it. Although these feelings bloomed, she didn't know if it was mutual on Willow's end, and she would keep them buried away. When Luz finally looked up from her sketch-pad King was fast asleep at the edge of her mat. She set aside the finished product and got some rest.

Later that night, Luz had woken up to relieve her heavy bladder, she carefully stepped over a sleeping King and visited the bathroom. After washing her hands, she found herself outside.

The moon's bright orbs brighten her path as she walks through the woods. Luz was a moth drawn to light, she felt compelled to keep moving. The orbs glowed rapidly like glistening gems, Luz could hear the vibration. She was led into the opening and a massive bush that resembled Willow's head came in view.

Woah...

"Thank you Luz!" It says

"Huh?"

Its large yellow luminous remind her of fireflies, she had accidentally swallowed one when she was seven.

"Thank you" it repeated.

"What for?" Luz asked.

She didn't get a response to her question,7 the bush thanked Luz on an endless loop. Suddenly, gravity reeled her forward and its mouth opened wide, swallowing her.

Luz was expecting to be engulfed in darkness, her eyes were squeezed shut. She felt warmth and a chubby body press against hers, opening her eyes. Luz realized it was Willow. She embraced the plant witch hug and gently ran her hand along Willow's turquoise hair.

"Luz!"

Everything faded. Luz woke up in her makeshift room with an annoyed little demon held prisoner in her arms. "Luz let go!" He whines struggling to break free.

"Sorry.." she said sheepishly.

Luz released him and King scurried off on all fours. She took care of her personal hygiene then returned to the room for her uniform. When Luz went downstairs, Eda was waiting at the door with her staff. She wore her pajamas. "Can we take the tub?”

“No, its for emergencies only”

“Please” Luz said, giving the grey haired woman pitiful eyes.

“I’m immune to those” Eda stated dismissively.

“But you can’t be the coolest witch without it,”

“Keep it up and you’ll be walking to school” Eda said heading out the door.

The schoolyard was still empty when Luz hopped off the staff. She watched Eda fly away, disappearing over the autumn colored trees. Luz took out her plant magic textbook and turned to the page about manipulation. After she got a good understanding, she pulled out the portrait of Willow and drew two symbols on them. Luz crossed her fingers and tapped the paper, a stem sprouted forth and the leaves took on the form of Willow's face. Two Lilac flowers blossomed on both sides, the topiary was the size of a miniature house plant. She had expected bigger but before Luz could sulk her crush arrived.

"Willow!" She quickly hid the plant behind her back.

"Hey" Willow smiled.

Luz felt butterflies tickling her stomach, she forced a skittish smile and revealed the topiary. Willow eyes widened with astonishment, she took the plant from Luz's hands.

"Aww thanks" Willow shifted the plant in her other arm and gave her a hug. Luz no longer had butterflies pestering her insides. The euphoria buttered her up, if Luz hadn't stopped herself she would have kissed Willow. For a brief moment, the turquoise haired witch stared at her. Luz was about to look away but Willow touched her cheek and gently kissed her lips. She led Luz by the hand towards the school building.

#the owl house #willow toh #willow park #willow the owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #willuz #eda the owl witch #toh eda #toh willow #toh luz

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megan-is-mia · 4 years

Note

So I spent the past few minutes procrastinating through your prompt list instead of doing assignments but can i also request 10. Monster yander prompt for fox jamil spicyness. Cept can you change thought i was human to thought i was a fox?

(Do your homework or there’ll be no yan smut for you! XD Anyways of course you can make more requests, I don't put limits on my inbox for a reason after all) 10. “You weren’t afraid of me when you thought I was a fox, so why are you so afraid of me now?” (Yandere! Jamil Viper x Fem! S/o) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD) The air was bitterly cold that day as (Y/n) walked home from work. As she walked the sound of weak whimpering hit her ear and drew her attention to the side of the road. There, half-hidden was a fox shivering so hard its entire body was vibrating with the effort of trying to remain warm. (Y/n) knew she should just keep walking and let nature take its course but her tender heart got the better of her. Making a detour she ventured over to the creature as it continued to tremble from the cold.

Unlooping the scarf she wore from around her neck, (Y/n) carefully wrapped the fox in it and held it against her chest as she continued the walk home. The creature snuggled against her body eagerly absorbing the heat that radiated from her body as she carried it with her. As she entered her humble apartment, she turned up the heat and set the fox near the radiator where it would be warmest. The creature made no effort to struggle as it remained curled up in (Y/n)’s scarf and shivering only a little now. (Y/n) was cautious in approaching the fox now that it had warmed up from the heat of her apartment extending her hands in a gesture she hoped would be interpreted as non-threatening. The fox didn't share her hesitation, however, stumbling out of where it had been lying in the scarf to sniff at her fingers before licking them. Hesitantly the young woman brought her other hand down to pet the creature’s head which it readily accepted. When she moved away from the fox in order to go to the kitchen it whined softly before staring at her. “I’m just going to the kitchen, I’m going to see if I have anything to feed you little buddy” (Y/n) said hoping that at least the tone of her words would be understood by the fox even if the actual words did not. Reluctantly the fox went back to lay on the scarf but watched her move around the kitchen with alert eyes and reminded her of its presence every so often with a squeal. “Yes, yes I know. I’m working as fast as I can to get you food silly fox” (Y/n) said absent-mindedly before finally bringing some cooked meat over for the little creature. “Here you go little buddy, I know it isn't your usual fare but I couldn't exactly catch wild rabbit on such short notice so steak will have to do” (Y/n) said apologetically as the fox dug into the offering she’d provided for it. After the creature had finished it trotted over to the scarf and dragged it over to the young woman before setting it on her lap and then settling itself back into the scarf on her lap. “Wow, didn't expect you to be a little cuddlebug” (Y/n) said softly scratching the little fox’s head as it made itself comfortable. “You know I should probably stop referring to you as an it… sorry little buddy I’m gonna make you a bit uncomfortable with this but…” as soon as (Y/n) said these words the fox abruptly flipped on its back and pat its tummy as if it had understood was about to happen and was making the situation easier by cooperating. Letting her eyes dart down for a moment, (Y/n) received her answer: she had a boy fox on her hands. She forced her eyes away from the creature’s genitals with an awkward cough. “So I’ve got a little todd on my hands then… Alright okay” (Y/n) said resuming her petting of the creature. The fox licked her finger affectionately as he let out a little contented yip. Eventually, the young woman felt her eyelids starting to droop and she gently lifted the fox off her lap despite his protests about being removed from his spot. “Sorry little buddy, but I’m feeling a bit sleepy. I should make sure I get in bed before I fall asleep on the floor again and wake up feeling all sore” (Y/n) apologized as she stumbled towards bed. Flopping down on the mattress she was soon joined by her little fox companion who curled up on the pillow next to her head. Petting the fox’s head some more she slowly drifted off to sleep. When (Y/n) woke up the next morning she found that the little fox had made himself cozy on her chest under the covers and was still snoozing peacefully at the moment. Carefully she moved him to a pillow and covered him again before getting up to get ready for the day. It wasn't long before the fox joined her in the kitchen, yipping and weaving around (Y/n)’s feet. (Y/n) fell into a new rhythm of life with her unexpected pet and she was happy, mostly happy that is. Ever since the little fox had become a part of her life, her love life had been non-existent. The fox scared off all the men she tried to bring home and eventually she just gave up trying altogether. “Guess I’ll die an old and lonely spinster little buddy” (Y/n) lamented with a sad sigh one night as she got ready for bed. The fox licked her hand comfortingly as he took his position on her pillow. The young woman slipped under the covers and was soon deep in sleep. That was until a sudden weight on her chest caused her to have quite a rude and unexpected awakening. In her bed, laying on top of her was a naked man! She opened her mouth to shriek only to have the stranger slap a clawed hand over her mouth. ‘Hush (Y/n), you wouldn't want to wake up the neighbors would you?” the strange man said in a gravelly tone as he stared down at her. He continued to stare at (Y/n) until she finally and very reluctantly shook her head which prompted him to remove his hand. “Who are you, why are you in my bed?” (Y/n) said in a hiss as her gaze darted about and she became aware that she could not locate the little fox. “Where’s my little buddy? You better have not hurt him or I’ll kill you!” she spat keeping her voice down as the stranger’s face broke into a wide grin at her. “Don’t you recognize your little buddy anymore?” the stranger said, making (Y/n) realize that the fox ears on his head were real and so was the tail no tails that brushed against her leg under the covers. “It can't be…” (Y/n) trailed off staring bug-eyed at the young man who claimed to be her fox friend. “It can be and it is dear (Y/n), of course, we haven’t been properly introduced since I was in no condition to speak human tongues while I was recovering in your care. Let me amend my lack of courtesy now. My name is Jamil, Jamil Viper and I am your personal kitsune familiar” the young man said with a twinkle in his eyes. (Y/n) stared at him dumbly, not able to take in the information that was being given to her. “But my bed… why…” (Y/n) said becoming hyper-aware of how Jamil’s body was giving off heat that was being absorbed by her own. She was also very aware of how she was almost totally indecent under the covers with only a pair of panties keeping her from being totally exposed. Awkwardly she tried to pull herself up into a sitting position so she could put some distance between herself and the kitsune. Of course, that was a useless endeavor as Jamil forced her to remain flat against the mattress. “Where do you think you’re going (Y/n)? I get the distinct feeling that you’re trying to get away from me for some reason” Jamil said with a soft coo. “You weren’t afraid of me when you thought I was a fox, so why are you so afraid of me now?” the kitsune said, his ears twitching slightly as he tilted his head. “I’m the same as I’ve ever been so why the sudden tension?” he questioned dripping his head down to lick at (Y/n)’s neck and send a shiver through her body at the contact. “Are you cold ya hayati? Let me warm you up then” Jamil said, his tails brushing against (Y/n)’s thighs again as his hands began to wander across her skin. His hand squeezed at her bare breasts roughly drawing soft gasps from her lips that he devoured greedily as he pressed his tails against the front of the young woman’s panties and grazing her clit through the fabric. He continued to do this until a wet spot formed on the area he had been teasing. He dropped a hand from her breasts in order to rip her panties off so he could finger her. Jamil’s finger was soon joined by two others as he began to open up (Y/n)’s insides. He wasn’t sure of how else to get his point across about how much he adored her. So he followed his instincts and made her body ready for his, ignoring the soft pleading that left her lips as he lined himself up with her hole and thrust into her with a sharp growl. The kitsune fucked his love hungrily hoping that she would be able to understand the depth of his love for her through the intimate act. When he came he did not pull out. As the couple drifted down from their highs Jalim forced (Y/n) to roll onto her side so he could more easily cuddle her. The kitsune held her close, using the fluff of his tails to keep his darling warm as they snuggled under the covers. The young woman felt tears forming in the corner of her eyes as the weight of what had just happened to her began to sink in. Why had her act of kindness come to bite her in the butt like this? She cried herself to sleep in the arms of her companion turned forced lover… THE END

#Yandere Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland #Yandere Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper

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andveryginger · 3 years

Text

Fictober Day One: “Elephant in the Room” (1/1)

Title: “Elephant in the Room”

Prompt: 1. “I need you.”

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe/Multiverse (Clint/Tasha AU)

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Tags: Language!

Notes: Real life sucks. But hey... it got done. Something of a follow-on to my MCU Ladies Fanwork Exchange piece, “By Example,” written in 2016... what seems like a century ago. In it, Tasha is wounded during exfil, following an operation that wasn’t quite as expected. The original story focusses on Maria Hill/Steve Rogers, but this snippet shifts the focus back to our favorite SHIELD spies. Decidedly AU at this point, and written with the idea that maybe the multiverse can fix it.

Posted without beta, and after months without writing fic; essays and non-fiction don’t flex quite the same muscles. Apologies if it’s a bit rough around the edges.

*****

“I need you.” Natasha Romanov heard the strained whisper, felt the familiar presence somewhere off to her right. She felt weightless, floating in darkness, yet somehow aware of the coarse texture of the medical ward sheets beneath her fingers. To her left, her heartbeat echoed through the telemetry monitor, the steady rhythm fluttering slightly. Exhaustion, pain, and no small amount of medication weighed heavily on her, pressing her back into the thin mattress, discouraging any attempt to move, to acknowledge the whisper at her right.

“I know we don’t…talk… about stuff like this, but…” There was the rustle of clothes, and, even in her limbo state, Tasha could almost see Clint Barton rub his hand over his face. His voice was quiet, low, reflective, barely audible over the hiss of the oxygen. “We’re the normal ones – no armor, no invulnerability, no super strength – and we just go charging in. We don’t stop, don’t think too hard about what we’re getting into; we just do. ‘Cause it needs to be done, and it’s what we’ve always done. But now…” He paused, taking a breath and forcing it out in an audible exhale. “When you climbed back into the ‘jet today, I felt that good ol’ adrenaline rush: Job well done; world saved – Hell, maybe even the galaxy! I was looking forward to beer and pizza back at base, trading fish tales with Maria and Cap and, well, whoever else. But now, Tash, I’m sitting here, watching you breathe, and I… realize there’s a lot we don’t say that maybe we should. “I need you,” he continued. “I need you in my life. Not just because you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count – though that’s a damn good side benefit – but you’re my best friend. My partner in crime. We get into so much shit, and we just… understand how it affects us.” Tasha again heard him shift, his leather jacket squeaking slightly. She imagined him wedged between the wooden arms of the too-narrow bedside chair, leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. His chin was down, wide eyes lifted to study her face. There was a long moment of silence, and she could almost feel his struggle with his words and his voice. He wasn’t, as he frequently pointed out, known for his eloquence.

“Fuck.” Clint snorted, gave a sarcastic laugh. “Why is this so fucking hard to say?” There was another heavy sigh, the soft brush of his hand over his hair. His voice shifted to a low rumble as he tried a different tack. “Had a talk with Cap a little while ago – you prob’ly heard him come in,” he said. “Stark told him Maria was in the medbay, and he came all barreling down here, thinking she was on her last breath.” Another dark chuckle. “Seems our favorite meat popsicle has a bit of a thing for the boss. Hearing she might not make it made him recalculate a few things and… well, let’s just say they’re going out for coffee later this week.” “The whole thing got me thinkin’ I don’t wanna wait till it’s too late, Tash,” he said. “You’re gonna be good – Doc Cho said as much. But watching you collapse, catching you before you fell…” The marksman drew a sharp breath. “…and then talking to Cap, it made me realize I don’t wanna quit running into the line of fire, but I damn sure want you to know how much I care – fuck, how much I love you – ‘cause, in the end, maybe one of us doesn’t make it home, and I don’t want there to be any question.”

Drawing a deep breath, Tasha struggled against the heavy weight of unconsciousness. She forced her fingers to move, followed by her toes and lips. Pain gripped her side, crawling across her rib cage and back as she emerged into the dimmed lighting of the room. Her heartrate fluttered in response, echoed in the high-pitched beep of the monitor. When she finally opened her eyes, she found familiar blue-green depths watching her, glassy and sparkling at the same time. His voice was soft, gentle, and warm as he greeted her. “Hey.” Still feeling the weight of the medicines, of the fatigue, of the need to sleep while her body repaired itself, Tasha blinked sluggishly, frustrated with the lack of cooperation from her eyelids as she fought to stay awake. “Hey,” she whispered in response. Relief and affection filtered into his gaze, emotions she allowed to reflect in her own. Abruptly, however, his attention dropped to his palm. Tasha frowned, confused for the instant it took to follow the shift. Then recognition settled: A small, silver arrow pendant and chain lay in the palm of his hand. Her necklace – the one he had given her. It had apparently broken in the fight and fallen off confusion of the extraction.

She licked her lips, drawing her attention up toward the mass of unruly hair atop his head. Her voice was groggy, rough as she spoke. “There’s no question, you know.”

He raised his head and looked up at her. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a rueful smile even as a rosy tint crept over his cheeks. “So you heard everything.”

“Unconscious, not dead,” she replied. Her lips twitched. “One of the things about sharing a brain… we already know how we feel.”

“Even when we’re in denial?”

Tasha chuckled, though she immediately regretted it. “’Specially then.”

A long moment of silence followed as Clint swept his rueful and affectionate gaze over her features. Swallowing, he reached his empty hand through the railing and, pushing back the scratchy sheet and thermal blanket, clasped her own. It was warm against her chilled skin, the callouses on his palms and fingers as comforting as they were familiar. A somber tone settled over his features. “I’m done with denial,” he said. “I… can’t take it back, and, well, I don’t think I want to. Love isn’t just for kids, Tash.”

Taking a deep breath, Tasha then swallowed back the lump in her throat. She forced a smile, a teasing one, though she knew he would see through it. “That’s a heavy word, Clint.”

“I know,” he conceded. His lips thinned. “I think we both know what it really means, why we always seem to avoid it.” His gaze dropped back to the necklace. “Lots of rumors about us. Those I don’t really care about; let ‘em wonder. But… I’m in this for the long haul, Tash.”

Warmth flooded her, creeping up her neck and sweeping over her cheeks. She arched a red brow. “…’till death do us part’?” Clint nodded. Sleep tugged at her once again, and she grimaced. There was a lot more to talk about, but it seemed all else was going to have to wait. The grimace gave way to a soft, lopsided grin. Her speech was starting to slur, despite her best intentions. “If I go first, I’m haunting your ass, Barton.”

Giving a laugh, Clint pushed forward. His lips gently brushed hers, hand offering an affectionate squeeze. “Wouldn’t expect any less,” he murmured. “And you know I’d return the favor. Now… I’ll get your necklace fixed while you get some rest.”

“Not because you told me, but because I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter,” Tasha replied. She allowed the lopsided grin to widen. “Oh, hey… tell Steve thanks. Then give him Hell.”

He laughed softly, and his lips curved into his own mischievous grin. “Already on the agenda.” With one final squeeze of her hand, he dropped a kiss to her temple. He slipped from the room just as sleep reclaimed her.

#fictober21 #belated day one #clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint/tasha #marvel cinematic universe #or is that 'marvel cinematic multiverse' now?#MCU AU

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starrywhump · 3 years

Note

Submissive nico!

Hazel and ash not understanding! asking him to stop taking it for them

SUBMISSIVE NICOO!!!!

Ok, I love the ask, I couldn't exactly fit it in at this point of the story but don't worry there will be more opportunities for Hazel and Ash to react to this later! I hope you all enjoy!

Oh also quick content warning for emetophobia, nothing actually happens but it is thought of and like it gets close.

First | Previous |

Nico retched quietly, wishing he could just throw up and get it over with. He wanted to clear his body of this feeling. Nausea was so disgusting set in his body, if he could just throw up, get it out, he’d feel better. Blank concrete stared back at Nico.

giving up on expelling the sick feeling inside of him, Nico lowered himself to his side, the world around him spun as he did. With a groan, Nico rolled onto his back. Sweat caused his hair to stick to his skin, adding to the general feeling of disgust inside him.

Nico drew in a deep breath, trying not to focus on the suffocating heat radiating from his left side. He had yet to look at what his brand looked like today, looking at it would mean sitting up, and sitting up would move the skin around it which would fucking hurt.

Nico was not planning on looking at the wound.

It was easier to ignore if he didn’t look at it. Yes, it was painful but if he didn't look at it he could pretend it was just some other injury, that also happened to hurt, something that would heal leaving a generic scar. He could ignore that he was now marked like cattle as property.

Not only stuck with her name seared into his body for the rest of time, Nico had agreed to be Rhea’s plaything. Not even just agreed he offered to.

Nico covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and push back tears.

The impending doom of everything Rhea would force him to do was too much to think about. Things he agreed to do, asked for.

No no you didn't ask for it, you're doing it so they can be safe.

Nico logically knew that, he did.

You begged her, isn't that asking?

"Only so Hazel and Ash can be safe," Nico responded to his own thoughts, justifying his actions.

Hazel.

Nico hadn’t seen Hazel since Rhea had forced him to hurt her, he didn’t even know if she was alive.

If she is she hates you. And if she’s dead it’s your fault.

Nico squeezed his eyes closed, sliding his hands down to the sides of his head he pushed in on his skull, trying to quiet his brain.

“Stop it,” Nico muttered into the silent room.

He took in a stuttering breath, wiping a stray tear off his face he let his head fall to the side, looking at Ash’s form across the room. He should check on his friend, he knew that. Moving right now would be excruciating, but he should at least call out to him.

Nico opened his mouth, pausing before making uttering a word. Fear settled over him, what if Rhea heard him? He didn’t want to do anything that might make her come back to torment him any sooner.

No that’s stupid, you’re being a coward.

Nico shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“Ash?” He called out softly.

There was no response.

“Ash!” Nico pitched up, hoping he could wake him.

No response.

Fuck.

With a groan Nico pushed himself up onto his elbows, his breath became heavy as he ignored the burning pain in his side and rolled over onto his hands and knees.

“Fuck... ow,” Nico grunted.

Slowly, painfully, Nico crawled over to where Ash lay. He put his hand under Ash’s nose.

Nico let out a sigh of relief.

Ash was breathing.

“I’ll let you sleep I guess, thanks for making me get up,” Nico grumbled as he lay down himself.

“What a sweet boy checking on his friend.”

Nico, flinched the sudden voice scaring him. He pushed himself up to his elbows with a wince.

When had Rhea walked in?

She quickly crossed the cell to Nico’s side, closing the door behind her.

Nico tried to sit up fully, but Rhea stopped him with a boot on his chest, “No, no, don’t get up on my account! You need your rest.”

The heel of Rhea’s boot dug into his skin, as she pushed Nico down to lay flat on his back.

Nico forced himself not to fight her, clenching his jaw and screaming curses in his brain. He didn’t speak, too unsure of his ability not to anger her. He kept his eyes down, avoiding her gaze for the same reason.

Rhea hummed contently, “good boy.”

The words felt slimy, disgusting, covering Nico’s skin.

Rhea smirked down at him, "I gave you a compliment, what do you say darling?" She pressed down on his chest, drawing a wheeze from the boy below her.

"Thank you," Nico bit out, trying to ignore the meaning behind his words.

"Good boy," Rhea repeated.

The words felt just as gross as the first time.

"Let's take a look at your pretty new mark, shall we?" Rhea stepped off Nico, settling over his hips to straddle him.

Nico's breath hitched as Rhea made such close contact with him. He felt so vulnerable laid out on the floor beneath her. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to buck her off.

Rhea chuckled, “hmmm try not to look so upset pretty boy.”

Nico grit his teeth, “sorry.”

“Sorry.....?” Rhea held up a hand to her ear as one might prompt a child to read the next word in their picture book.

Forcing down bile, Nico responded as she wanted “sorry ma’am.”

Cold fingers ran along the neckline of his shirt, Nico couldn’t stop a small grimace at her touch. He clenched his jaw tighter, schooling his expression to remain neutral.

Rhea ran her hands down his chest, she went to pull at his shirt, “active participation,” Rhea reminded.

Nico turned his head to the side looking away from her. Humiliation swept over him as he lifted his torso off the ground to let Rhea pull his shirt up to reveal his stomach and chest.

“Hmmm that looks like it hurts,” Rhea grinned, placing a finger on the inflamed skin next to the brand. She glanced up at Nico’s face, “active participation means looking at me.”

"Sorry," Nico muttered, turning his head and meeting her eyes.

Rhea raised her eyebrows

"Sorry ma'am," Nico corrected quickly. His heart dropped as he realized how quickly he was falling into the exact behaviors Rhea wanted.

That's what you agreed to.

Rhea smiled, "You know, I had my own plans, the work we were doing with Hazel and such. But this," her grin grew wider, "this is much better than all that. I was so surprised when you told me how bad you wanted this. I'm so glad you did."

A copper taste filled his mouth as Nico bit down on his cheek.

"Nothing to say? You used to be so chatty."

Nico stared blankly back at her, it was easier just not to interact. If he said anything he wasn't sure he could keep it from being something that would break his deal with Rhea.

Rhea leaned down over Nico, whispering in her ear, "Ignore me one more time and I will kill your friend here."

"Sorry, ma'am," he replied, his voice held an undeniable shake.

Rhea smiled, she rested her elbows on either side of Nico's head.

Nico took in a stuttering breath, trying to ignore the growing dread in his stomach. His chest felt tight, each breath was harder than the next. Rhea's body was flush with his, her knee was pushing against the brand bringing a fresh wave of pain at even her smallest movements.

Stop, stop, stop.

This was worse than the knife, worse than the shock collar, worse than anything else she had put him through. All that had hurt, it had hurt like a motherfucker, but it was simple and understandable. It was pain, and he just had to get through it.

This, it didn't hurt. There was no physical pain. That was worse.

Rhea hadn't done anything yet to hurt him, just invaded his space. Invaded space meant for comfort, and trust.

Nico swallowed against the lump in his throat.

Rhea traced a finger down the side of Nico's face.

He squeezed his eyes shut without thinking.

"Open," commanded.

"Sor-sorry... ma'am," he opened his eyes.

nonononononono

"Are you going to cry, Nico? it's alright if you do. In fact, I'd rather enjoy it if you did," Rhea spoke softly, to her captive below her.

"N-no, ma'am."

"Why are you struggling so much with your words then? Are you afraid of me? After all I've done for you?"

"I..." Nico couldn't think of what to say, the only thing running through his mind was pure disgust at Rhea's proximity, "I-"

"Come on spit it out now," Rhea continued her idle touches over Nico's face and neck.

"I'm not," Nico said firmly, ignoring the panic growing inside him, "I'm not afraid of you ma'am."

Rhea raised an eyebrow. She seemed upset that Nico was still holding on to some semblance of control.

"I don't believe you," Rhea ran her hand up the side of Nico's head, tangling her fingers in his hair.

She leaned down, speaking softly into Nico’s ear, “I can see you flinching, see how your breath stops, just for a moment, as you try to see what I have planned for you next,” she tightened her grip Nico’s hair, twisted his neck painfully, “all that yelling, cursing, it was all just a shield for how truly scared you are. Now you can’t even do that, you feel vulnerable, humiliated I’m sure, and you’re terrified.”

“I...” Nico’s voice was choked, barely hiding his growing emotions. Coherent thought other than get off me was getting harder and harder to make.

"Be honest now, full cooperation includes not lying to me."

She's too close, it's too much, its-

"I-" Nico swallowed hard, wanting desperately to be anywhere else than where he currently was in this moment.

"Come on, you can do it, tell me how you really feel."

You have to.

You have to you asked for this so fucking do it.

Nico couldn't breathe, he took in a stuttering gasp, "s-scared," his voice was soft, almost inaudible.

Rhea's eyes lit up, "What was that darling? Is that how you feel, scared?"

Nico wanted to scream at her.

fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU

He closed his eyes, nodding as much as he could in Rhea's harsh grip.

You had to say it it doesn't mean you are.

It doesn't mean you are. It... it...

"Good boy, such a quick learner," Rhea finally released her grip in his hair, allowing Nico to move his head to a less painful position as she sat up.

Nico's face burned with humiliation. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see Rhea's pleased face above him.

Rhea's weight lifted off him and Nico let out a small breath of relief.

That breath was quickly stolen away as her boot slammed into his ribs.

He let of a grunt of pain, gasping for air that had been knocked from his chest. Nico curled to the side, ignoring the pain the movement caused to the inflamed brand on the other side of him.

"That's for closing your eyes," Rhea spoke in an unenthused tone.

Nico forced his eyes open at her words, he took in weak, wheezy gasps, unable to catch his breath.

"s-sor-sor," he couldn't make the words through his desperate attempt to take in as much oxygen as he could.

Rhea turned, looking down at him with a smile, "I know you're trying, trying so hard to be good for me."

Nico crinkled his nose, trying to avoid showing his disgust too clearly.

Air finally felt like it was making it into Nico's lungs, he took in deep breaths, trying to slow himself down.

"That's it, calm down."

I'm going to fucking kill you.

"Good boy,"

NO NO NO NO NO

"Thank you," Nico's voice was raspy, it hurt to talk, "thank you, ma'am."

Nico rolled over onto his hands and knees, wincing as he pushed himself to his feet. He worried for a moment Rhea was going to force him back to the ground but she just watched him.

The world spun around him as Nico tried to maintain his balance, he stumbled back to rest against the wall so he wouldn't fall. As his vision stabilized Nico's eyes fell on Ash's crumpled form below him.

"You promised to take him to a hospital."

"We never agreed on a hospital-"

"Medical center then, you promised some kind of medical care. Take him there or I'm not going to keep doing this."

Rhea raised an eyebrow, her gaze darkening, "I'd be careful how you speak to me, I can make this deal much more painful if you give me a reason to. Now, if you ask nicely I can call someone to take him over there."

Of course, it can't be easy.

Nico met her eyes, "Please, help him."

She kept eye contact as she picked her radio from her belt, "come get one of the boys, bring a stretcher."

Nico breathed a sigh of relief, "thank you."

It wasn't long before the door swung open, the two guards who had Nico had come to be familiar with carried a stretcher between them.

"Hazel?" Nico wanted to make sure who he was doing this for was safe. Otherwise, this was all for nothing.

Rhea rolled her eyes, she pointed to Ash on the ground, "take him to the medical center, get a doctor for him. The girl too, different rooms, make sure they lock."

The guards nodded and began to move Ash to the stretcher laid beside him.

The movement seemed to be enough to wake Ash, his eyes jolted open, he flinched away from the guard's hands. He made eye contact with Nico across the room.

It's ok, Nico mouthed to Ash.

Rhea crossed to Nico's side, putting a hand on his head to stroke his hair, the gesture would almost be kind if its purpose wasn't pure humiliation, "Say goodbye to your friend darling."

Nico blinked away impending tears, "Goodbye Ash."

"What.. what are you talking about?" Ash looked confused, "what did you.. what are you doing to him? Where are you taking me?" His voice was weak, slightly slurred.

"I'm not doing anything to anyone, he asked for this, didn't you pet?"

Nico looked down avoiding Ash's gaze, trying to ignore Rhea's gentle hand in his hair.

"Yes ma'am."

#whump #oc: nico #oc: rhea #oc: ash #oc: hazel #tw: vomit mention #tw: emetophobia #panic attacks #breaking down #rip nico honestly he is not having a fun time #self-blaming #submission #swearing #obediance #kicked #gasping for air

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ilguna · 3 years

Text

Lacuna - Chapters 5-8 (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing. MURDER, GORE.

wc; 13.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

-- CHAPTER FIVE --

With every passing day, you and Finnick manage to get closer. More information is swapped between the both of you. The nights where neither of you can sleep because the games are only getting closer, you two swap stories. He’ll tell you stories of his family. Some of them are things he’s experienced directly, other’s it’s a family tale.

He’ll tell you about how he’s gotten so good at fishing. That originally his parents thought that he would be useless when it comes to providing, but he eventually came around. They just had to find out how he wanted to do it exactly. This is where the spear and the tridents come in. He tells you that he’s learned knots of his own, and he takes the time to teach you how to tie them. They’re all very effective.

Finnick one night, comes into your room--he tells you that you have the better view of the city, and that’s one of the reasons why he likes to sit in your room for so long--with some paper and a pencil. He sat at the window, drawing the city, flipping through papers quickly as he drew the Capitol people. Made designs of clothing on his own.

He’s not good, but the more he goes on, the more he seems to get a hang of it. It only takes an hour before he’s completely run out of paper. After that, he throws it into the corner of the room and goes back to staring out the window.

Finnick tells you of the kids he wants to have, but he’s always teetering on wanting them, and then changing his mind because he’s scared of them having to go into the games. But then he laughs bitterly and says that he’ll never have to worry about that after all, because he’s going to be killed.

This is when you’ve had enough of it. You tell Finnick that his odds are extraordinary, like your own. He wants to argue that the careers will win, but you firmly get a hold of his shoulders and simply tell him that if he does this to himself, then he won’t win at all. That the careers might have a bigger chance, but he can change those odds if he just tries harder.

You tell him that he’s lined up for a win. That he knows his knots, he knows how to throw. He’s learned different plans and how to start fires and set snares all in the span of three days. You tell him that he’s tall, so he’ll be able to run, and he’s fit and not underweight, and if he’s felt what it’s like to starve, then he’ll have another advantage, he’ll be able to go hungry for as long as it may take.

He’s charming, and smart. Elysia, Mags and his stylist are constantly telling that that the Capitol is swooning over him. That he’s become desirable because of how attractive he is. Finnick is going to have a good chance at getting sponsors, because he’s showing that capability. And for him to turn it all down just because he thinks that District One and Two are going to win is ludacris in your mind.

When you were done with the entire speech, there was silence. Before you had the chance to let go of him and go back to staring at the city, watching the lights get dimmer and brighter as they reflected off of the buildings, he kissed you. It wasn’t long, because he held you in place for a couple of seconds, before he backed off and went back to silence.

He thanked you, and you assumed it was because of you restoring his confidence, and then he turned the attention on you. Demanded to hear the stories from your family, know what happened to your parents. What it’s like having to parent a little sister and all of that.

You explain to him that since Mox is such a softie, he sometimes got picked on. Which is the sole reason you took on fighting lessons from the neighboring boys because they supported you beating the fuck out of the bullies. All it took was for you to jump on them one time, and they left your brother alone after that. Reed tried to be disapproving, but at the end of the night, you could tell he was proud.

You tell him that Alyssum gets bigger everyday, and you know that she’s going to grow up happy. She might feel lonely and sad because she never got to know your parents, and maybe yourself. But she’ll feel loved all the same, because you guys will be her parents. You’ll protect her, and teach her to fight and tie knots and fish like you were.

You explain how everything works in your family, how the young ones get taught how to survive at a young age. How you didn’t even realize that it was a thing until you arrived the other day. He laughed at that, and told you that he thinks that’s how it works with everyone. But you remind him that some of the kids that are about to be thrown in with you are nowhere near as skilled as you guys are.

Then you gush about all your interests. It gets sad when you tell him about how your parents die and it’s such a burden sometimes as you try to live up to be like your mom. It’s difficult for you to go into their room still because the wound is still relatively fresh, and he understands that. He mentions that he heard about the accident a while back and he meant to give you his condolences.

You tell him that you’ve recovered and you appreciate the thought at least. And instead of going back to his room that night, the both of you end up passing out on the floor. You remember bringing the blanket down from the bed and swaddling him in it first. You found another blanket inside of the bed chest, and you did the same to yourself.

He woke you up only an hour or so later with his own nightmare, and only then did it come to you, that he probably has nightmares of his own. Which is why he ends up dodging sleep most of the time. You’re not the only one that has the problem when it comes to sleeping, and it was a little dumb for you to think that you’d be the only one that has those kinds of things.

You woke him up of course, and he stayed up long enough to clear it from his mind before he went back to bed, absolutely exhausted. You too went to sleep, and then at noon Elysia had found the both of you passed out on the floor. She let you guys sleep for as long as she could afford, she clearly had heard you two talking and she knew how late you’d stayed up.

The others are still buying your stupid act. Thyme now struggles to hide her laughter when you mock them behind their backs. Finnick is just as amused, but he doesn’t have the same trouble of trying to hide it. He’s very good at covering for you when it comes to things.

And miraculously, throughout the last two days, neither of you had talked about the fact that he had kissed you. Almost like it has disappeared in thin air, or it was something you had hallucinated. This entire time, you’ve been going a little crazy over it, until he did it again yesterday.

He lingered a little bit though, he didn’t want to leave to go to bed in his own room. His hand still on your cheek, and the longer you two stood there, the more your body started to heat up out of embarrassment. And then as cheeky boys do, he uttered a small, “You’re pretty, you know that?” and left.

Needless to say you couldn’t sleep last night because of it. This morning you felt energized though, because today would be the day you finally get to perform for the gamemakers. They’ve been monitoring you for these last couple of days of course, but this is going to be it. Today will be the day where they set your score in stone.

“Eat well!” Elysia tells you and Finnick, “but not enough to make yourselves puke.”

That part is obvious.

You all sit in silence, you’re mostly imagining yourself inside of the room with the gamemakers alone. Trying not to be anxious, because there will be plenty of eyes on you. Trying to throw the spear straight as best as possible. Or you could throw some knives.

There was this trick that you’d learned from Reed a while back. He only showed you how to do it once, and then no matter how many times you begged for him to do it again, he never would. Thought that it was useless and would never come in handy for any situation, especially for the games.

You’ll need two knives, and two seperate dummies.

“Is the training area closed?” you ask once you’ve swallowed your stew, looking to Elysia.

“Yes, since you’ll be doing it in private today, they don’t see a reason for you to practice. You’ve had three days to do whatever it is you want to learn now.” she tells you.

“No, not learn.” you tell her, looking over the table, You settle for the blackberries in the middle of the table. You pick up the spoon, beginning to mash the berries. They watch you curiously as you pick up two knives, and then head out of the room.

You’re not very hungry anyway.

In the confinements of your own room, you lock the door. With the mashed berries, you use it to draw two people, a little taller and a little shorter than you. You place the mush off to the side as you back up, watching as it slides down the wall from the layers being a little two thick.

With one hand, you place the knives between your fingers. The aim for this is to get the left one in the head and the right in the chest. And on the first try, you only get the taller drawing. One in the chest, the other in the groin.

Just like that, you go back and forth. Pulling the knives out of the wall, leaving nice holes leaving behind. You’re about to give up on it, because you’ve been getting close, but not exactly. Until you nail it. You replicate the throw you did a couple of times, get the knives back and throw in the exact same way. With the same result.

After about thirty more times of the same result, with different distances and all, the hole where they keep landing is pretty big, and one of them even slips through and falls inside. You laugh, looking at all the damage you’ve caused, knowing that they’re going to have to repair this all by themselves. There won’t be any time for punishment because they’re already sending you inside of the games.

The second you’ve walked out of the room, Elysia hands you the outfit, not even asking why there has been thumping for the past hour, and she leaves. You get dressed and end up meeting Finnick in the hallway to see he has a similar outfit. You go to shut the door when he places his foot there, sticking his head in.

“You threw knives at the wall?” he asks, “Are those people outlines?”

You grab his arm, pulling him out and shutting the door behind you. He laughs, and slips his fingers into yours, holding on tight as he guides you to the elevator. Mags and Elysia don’t even blink at the fact that he’s holding your hand at all. After they’ve escorted you to the room, they go back to the floor, where you’ll meet them.

You sit in the District Four spot with Finnick, talking to Allio, Lennox, Trink and Eytelle until they’ve left. Then, you look over the District Three boy curiously, wondering if he’ll want to be your friend inside of the arena. Then he too, leaves.

The girl goes, and you turn to Finnick, “You’ve got this, okay? Plenty of skills, I’m sure they’ll have something for you in there.”

“You too.” he tells you, and then his name is called. He’s pulling his fingers from your hand but stops long enough to kiss your forehead. Once the door shuts behind him, Thyme snorts.

“You guys dating?” a couple of the others snicker.

“I have no clue.” you whisper.

“But you like him?” one of the girls ask, she seems excited to talk about something, have a little bit of drama to pass around. Ignore the impending doom that’s creeping up on you guys the more that time goes on.

You can feel your face get hot, “I think so.”

“Who doesn’t?” one of the boys sigh, he’s got his head leaned up against the wall. You’re pretty sure he’s from District Seven—Mac, his district mate nods along, Cass.

You guys go back and forth on it, them asking you questions, but you don’t reveal too much. The only person you consider giving the information to is Thyme, since she’ll be in the alliance. The others will think that the way to get to you will be to kill Finnick, which isn’t entirely true.

You’re trying to distance yourself from those feelings, but it’s kinda hard to do. He’s holding your hand, he’s kissing you. You’re learning about all the things he did back home, how his family life was. He’s sleeping with you on your bedroom floor, and through all of this you’re digging up memories to compensate for all the memories he’s giving to you. And along with that is coming the feelings for him you never knew you had before. Or, the ones you suppressed because you never thought you had a chance with him.

Finnick talked to so many girls, they swooned over him. But he never dated any of them, and that’s what kept the girls coming. They thought that he was always playing hard to get but maybe….

You can’t afford to dig them up.

Fifteen minutes seem to drag on. As you’re forced to keep up with the conversation, listening to them list off all his good qualities, sinking you deeper into your feelings. Just before you get up, one of the girls mention how you’re lucky. Not because of his good looks, but because he seems to care about you a lot. He’s going to be good in the games and she seems to think that he’ll try to protect you.

When you walk into the room, you see that the gamemakers are watching you walk in. You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. Your hands are a little shaky, but you ignore them for the most part, “(Y/n) Gallows, District Four.”

You set up two dummies on the other side of the room. Then you use the berries to mark the spots where you’re going to hit them exactly. On the way back, you pick up the knives, and turn to look at the gamemakers.

“You may begin.”

You place the knives between your fingers, with the exactly placing being perfect. One breath in, and then out, you draw your arm back.

The knives fly from your fingers quickly, and the sound of the dummies hitting the wall makes a dull thud sound fill the air. You stare for a moment, like you can’t believe you just showed them this trick of all things. But then you see you got them exactly where you had marked. There’s not even a little bit of the berries showing, it’s just… knife.

You turn to look at the gamemakers, and they nod, giving each other looks. Some lean over to talk to others, and they dismiss you from the room. On the way back to the elevator, the jitteriness of it all escapes your body, and you finally feel normal again. It slowly starts to come to you the longer it takes for you to get back, that you probably scored high, it was threatening enough.

It had to be more impressive because they were at different heights, and the precision, how you did it so quickly with no practice throw before. The distance between you and the dummies were over twenty feet clearly. You might not use that exact maneuver inside of the arena, but you’ll definitely be able to do something like it. Close, far, your aim is impeccable. You’re deadly, like you’ve been telling yourself the entire time.

Once inside of the apartment, you go ahead and sit on the couch. Elysia tells you that it might take a while for the program to come around, so you curl up and take a nap in the meantime.

When they do come to wake you, you see that Laurel and Finnick’s stylist have also joined you inside. Mags sits in an adjacent chair that’s twice the size she is, but she looks comfortable. Finnick is just by your feet, and Elysia is next to him.

“Here we go.” Elysia mutters, before turning on the television.

They introduce the program first, explaining it as if the people in the Capitol would suddenly forget how all of this works. And then, they start with the first district, Lennox. He gets a solid score of ten, and Trink follows with a nine. Allio gets a nine, Eytelle gets the same. The boy from District Three gets a ten, the girl only gets an eight.

And then so quickly, Finnick shows up on screen. Without even thinking about it, your hand finds his, and you’re both squeezing tightly.

“Finnick Odair, with a score of…” Caesar purposely builds tension, “Ten.”

“Wow!” Elysia cheers, looking to him with big eyes, “You did well!”

“Now for (Y/n).” Finnick gives you a look, and the both of you start squeezing again.

“(Y/n) Gallows,” Caesar nods at the paper, “Ten.”

You’re even, the both of you are even. But you’ve gotten higher than Eytelle, Trink and Allio. You, Finnick and Lennox are the high scoring ones. They’ll be sure to take this into consideration.

“That’s good!” Elysia looks genuinely happy.

Finnick doesn’t release your hand, but the both of you don’t hold on as tight. Instead, you watch as the numbers fly by, revealing just how capable some of the other districts are. Most score a seven to nine, none getting as high as a ten. Only a few, the younger ones, fall below a six.

And then it gets to Thyme, you find yourself holding your breath again. Until she gets a score of nine. You hope that’s because she threw the knives like you taught her to. Or she had her own set of deadly skills that she hadn’t bothered to show off before.

You guys gather for dinner, the stylist joining you for once. You stuff yourself full as usual. Mags is the first to excuse herself tonight. She’s been doing a lot more later, putting herself out there. Elysia and Mags have been talking you guys up over the chances that you have to win. Only Mags can truly secure every single sponsor, and send them through during the games.

She says that you guys have promise, but the interview in two days really will determine how everything goes.

After Mags is you, and Finnick takes that same opportunity. You take the time to thank Laurel for all the outfits that she’s been making lately, and she brushes you off, saying that it’s really nothing. Then after that, you’re heading back to your room as usual.

Finnick sticks around again, but not for as long. He doesn’t kiss you like the nights before and like this afternoon. But he does bid you goodnight and leaves you to be alone. To sit and wallow in all the emotions that you’re feeling.

The main one being anxiety.

--CHAPTER SIX --

It’s obvious that they’ve been watching your body language, and it’s kinda hard to hide it when Finnick is so out there with it. Like he’s purposely trying to draw people in to thinking that you two are together. It isn’t a bad strategy, to bring in more sponsors and shit like that.

But then you remember that they won’t see you side by side really. It won’t be until you’re standing with the others, watching the interview go on, when you’ll see what happens. The only time they have seen you together was during the second day, and maybe during the training session days. You’re not sure if they show that footage or not actually.

You just hope they don’t have cameras here, inside of the apartment, or you’d be screwed. They’d be able to broadcast all the private moments you’ve had with Finnick for the entire Capitol and the people back home to see. Or the kiss before the private training....

It doesn’t matter to you that Mags, Elysia, Laurel and--you’ve finally learned Finnick’s stylist’s name--Pleurisy know of your encounters. Mags is staying in the same building that you are, so she’s bound to know what’s going on. Elysia has caught you two only once, and even though she isn’t chatty to you and Finnick much, she definitely goes at it when talking to Laurel and Pleurisy.

Just by the looks they’re giving the both of you, it’s obvious.

Elysia thinks for a moment, and then she shrugs. You’re not sure what that’s about exactly, but she backs up.

And then proceeds to spend so much time hammering in manners that she seems are proper. She’ll tell you to sit with your back straight, hands together. A constant smile is on your face, and you manage to keep that on for a long time. She asks if you can get the blush going like you did on the chariot ride, and it isn’t very hard to do it this time.

Finnick asks what’s your secret, and you don’t give him a single word. Because the truth is, you’re thinking of all the times he’s kissed you. How it’s made you feel, talking about it with the other tributes as if you guys were a bunch of friends and they were teasing you about your crush.

You think of all those girls back home who like him so much, and here he is choosing you. You think about how Reed will absolutely destroy Finnick if it gets back to him that you’re kissing Finnick. How he’ll go big brother mode and then proceed to give you a talk when it comes to boys.

You’ll remind him that you’re not actually dating and it was harmless flirting. At least that’s what you’re thinking, or hoping actually. But you know deep down that it’s not flirting because flirting isn’t kissing. Flirting is teasing, and glancing across the room at each other when the other isn’t looking.

You’ve slipped past the flirting stage, and you’re heading to something else that you’re not excited for. One of you is going to die inside of the arena, and it’s going to ruin everything between you two. The other will be devastated because of the fling that was going on, and you’ll struggle to overcome it. Maybe it’ll be easy. Maybe it’ll be a reason to continue to go on, to win and go home.

You’re able to do everything that Elysia wants you to do easily. The blushing, the giggling, the specific wave style. How your legs cross, hands in your lap. Your body posture, the look of wonder and curiosity in your eyes.

Elysia is confused on how you do it so well. You take a guess that Finnick knows what your trick is. All those months of pretending to be alive during school paid off a little too well. Those months have left you a partial actress, the Capitol people are going to be putty in your hands. For once, you’ll be manipulating what they think of you.

A part of you is excited to go into the games. You’ll play off this stupid look but the second you get inside you’ll turn into a machine. The entire act can be dropped off and you can go back to being cold, and really hating this entire thing. No more acting like you love it here, or the people around you. No more playing pretend, you’ll finally be able to be yourself.

Because the truth is, you’re not always this happy. The smile on your face nearly falters after a while as you struggle to not think about what it’s going to be like in the games. How your entire life will be changed when you get back home. Nothing will be the same, you’re not going to be happy when you get back home.

You’re going to remember every face that you kill. Learn their names and eventually meet their families and--

“Are you crying?” Elysia sounds appalled, but it has to be shock.

You wipe your hands on your face, and when you pull them away you can see only a little bit of wetness. You’ve only just started crying it seems.

Finnick jumps to comfort you, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” you try to brush him off, and he looks like he’s going to argue with you, but then he accepts it. You know that he’ll bring this up later tonight, since the both of you sit in your room with the nice view in silence. Tonight will not be filled with silence.

Elysia moves on to helping Finnick. She brings out the inner confidence, and you watch a he transforms completely. He sits up taller, which means that he’s been slouching this entire time. You’re not sure how you didn’t notice that, but knew that Eytelle was doing it. Maybe it’s because she’s nearly six foot, as Finnick is only five foot seven-ish right now.

He’ll get taller, he’s only fourteen right now. There’s plenty of time for him to keep growing. The same goes for you, but you’ll still end up being shorter than him no matter what happens. Boys are tall, girls are normally short, with the exception of Eytelle and her giant genes apparently.

Finnick smiles, and when he does, it sends butterflies through your stomach. You find yourself biting your lip hard, trying to fight back the smile that wants to creep over your face each time he looks to you. He plays the charming role well, and soon enough you’re forgetting the fact that you were crying, focusing on Finnick.

Elysia slowly transitions into asking you and Finnick questions--ones that Mags had come up with. You’ll go first, answering the question as humbly as possible, flashing a smile and making sure that it reaches your eyes. Every now and then you’ll widen your eyes, drop your mouth open like you’re taking in information. But the smile will reappear, and you’ll say something dumb like ‘wow!’.

Finnick sounds much smarter. He lets the spotlight stay on him for a little bit, and then he’ll turn it on Elysia. When the question of winning comes up, he tells Elysia that he thinks he’s got a good chance, and then refers back to his number. You answer will a flush, a giggle and then a tiny shrug, simply saying that you’re sure that you won’t be dumb enough to die in the bloodbath.

It isn’t until you’re halfway through the interview when you realize that they might not buy the act anymore, because of the ten you had scored. This is when you ask Mags if the other tributes will realize that it is an act, and she shrugs. She doesn’t give you a straight answer, letting Elysia read it out to you.

Mags says that they’ll probably just think you’re skilled in some way. If you’ve been keeping it up behind the scenes, even without the careers around, then they’ll probably believe it. You then realize that you probably fucked it up a little bit when it came to Thyme and Finnick when you wandered around with just them for a while during the training sessions. That the others probably saw that you weren’t this dumb, bubbly girl who can’t believe that she’s learning so much in so little time.

You remember the fifteen minutes before your own private session with the gamemakers, and you decide that you did a pretty good act there. You must have looked hopelessly in love or something if they kept talking. They’re going to see you as some love-struck girl that has no clue what the fuck is going on. That’s probably for the best.

You guys go ahead and eat lunch once you’re done with the little coaching session. You definitely feel better about the interview. It’s not like it’s going to last long, only three minutes. The buzzer will go off before you know it, and suddenly you’re going to be worrying about being thrown into the games. This is all going to be too fast.

You avoid conversation with Finnick as much as possible. But unlike other days, you purposely stay at the table, eating slowly. Watching as Finnick stuffs himself quickly like you had been doing this entire time. Before you know it, Mags has excused herself from the table. Ten minutes pass--which is normally when you also try to escape--but you’re still eating. Finnick, eating so quickly and so much, is clearly full and can’t stand anymore.

When he leaves the table, it’s just you and Elysia. She seems to wait for Finnick to be gone completely, watching his retreating figure.

This is probably the only time you have sat with Elysia alone. You and Finnick are normally sticking around each other, even around Mags. It’s because the both of you are in it together. There’s really no point of sitting around Elysia unless she’s providing you with information. Where you’re going next, what’s going to be happening at whatever time…

“Aren’t you going to go too?” she asks, and you look over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of blonde hair.

You turn back to her, scooping up a spoonful of stew, “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Well, when you’re done eating I’ve got to teach you how to walk in heels. So finish quickly.” She’s pleased with the fact that you’re not leaving as quickly as you normally do.

Soon enough, you get tired of the taste of the stew. This is when Elysia calls up Laurel, and takes you to a spare room that you haven’t been into yet. Elysia gets you fitted into the shoes right when Laurel appears out of nowhere.

The shoes aren’t too bad at the beginning. They have you walk in all sorts of ways. Making sure to make small steps, or bigger steps where they make your hips move a certain way. The entire point of this is to make you look appealing, and more girlish in their opinion.

It’s a little bit later when you realize just how tight the shoes are. Laurel takes the size of the shoe, makes adjustments with the width and length, and then sends it to the assistants that you’ve only seen a total of three times. You’ll see them again tomorrow before and during the interview, since they’re supposed to be sitting in the front row with the other stylists.

When you’ve got the walk down, and your feet are officially aching, you’re allowed to take them off. You’re dismissed, allowing you to go back to your room to take a nap. You don’t get that far though, because Finnick is already sitting by the window, pad of paper and pencil in hand as he’s sketching again.

He’s clearly heard you come in, these doors aren’t very quiet. Yours especially, it squeaks like it’s been overused, and even if you try to turn the doorknob to make it more quiet, it clicks.

“I’m pretty sure you have the wrong room.” you joke, sliding off the flats you’ve been wearing all day.

Over his shoulder, you see it’s a drawing of you. Sitting on that couch, tears spilling over your eyes and down your cheeks. He must have photographic memory if he’s able to draw this so well. It was so long ago too, a couple hours at least.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asks finally, just as you sit down next to him with a little distance in between.

“I was just thinking about what will happen post-games.” you tell him, bringing your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs, “If I make it out, I’m not going to be the same.”

“None of us will.” Finnick says, and you look over to see that his face is blotchy. He’s been crying too.

“What about you?” you ask, because he looks like he needs the support, “What’s got you down?”

“I just miss home.” he says simply, the pencil on the paper stops, and you see that he’s made a perfect picture in his own style. He closes the little makeshift sketchbook and tucks it beneath a chair nearby, along with the pencil.

Just like that, you’re off to sitting by each other quietly again. But no words are needed, just basking in each other’s companies.

Again, the both of you fall asleep on the floor. But you’re wide awake for most of the night, busy staring down at the city. It isn’t until Finnick stirs around two in the morning, when you think you should go back to bed. He doesn’t allow you to make you own little bed, as he holds up one end of his blanket as an invitation to join him.

You’re about to tell him no, but he tells you that you need to sleep. If he just goes back to bed then you’ll probably stay up longer. This way, he’ll be sure you’ll go back to bed.

You know it’s a bad excuse as much as he does. But you comply, sliding beneath the blanket with him. You carefully wrap your arm around his waist like a hug, tucking your head beneath your chin. He uses both arms to pull you closer, letting one of them act like your pillow.

You don’t fall asleep for a while anyway like this. You try to even out your breathing to make it look like you’re sleeping. Even going to the length of closing your eyes, hoping that you will actually sleep, but it doesn’t come. You’re forced to lay here in Finnick’s arms, thinking about what it’s going to be like in the games.

It isn’t long until the tears come back, and you’re struggling to keep them from landing on Finnick to keep from waking him. It’s so funny how the tables have really turned. How he’s gone from being the insomniac, to you being the one who can’t sleep at all. You’re the one stuck in your thoughts, worrying about what’s going to happen.

At some point, you fall asleep. You’re not sure when but it had to be between the time of three to six in the morning. You briefly woke when Finnick got up to use the bathroom, but you went right back to sleeping. A couple hours later, Elysia had shown up to get you guys to eat breakfast.

You ate slowly, trying to savor everything. But soon Laurel gets impatient and she takes you to where she’ll be preparing you. Finnick is right by your side up until Pleurisy whisks him away. He can’t do more than wave, before the door is shut and you’re left to Laurel.

You listen to the assistants bubble. Jumping from topic to topic ecstatically. You can’t feel the same, you’re tired. They cover the bags underneath your eyes well, and eventually Elysia comes in to feed you an energy shot. You’re pretty sure it’s some type of coffee. In no time, you’re perking up and you feel just as bouncy as Laurel’s assistants.

They fix your hair, making it silky smooth, straight. And then they curl it up. They apply more highlight than anything this time. Telling you that you’re going to want to shine in the lights during the interviews. They say that it’s their personal favorite when the tributes will be a little shiny, a rainbow on their cheeks and noses, and wherever else they apply it too. They say that their friends enjoy it as much as they do.

Once they’re done, they slip out of the room, leaving you and Laurel alone. She quizzes you a little bit, and you’re smiling, and gushing and playing stupid again. She says that they’ll eat it right up, and that you’ll probably need one more energy shot, even though you feel like you’re going to bounce off the walls enough already.

Elysia comes in, feeds you the liquid, and that’s when she informs you that it’s good to be a little shaky. Humble is what you’re going for. Damsel is your main word. To be shaky and scared and a deer caught in headlights is what they’re going to want to see.

The shoes come last, and once you’re standing tall, your feet not being squeezed too tightly, you’re turned around to see yourself in the mirror. All you can ask yourself is if you’re going to be taller than Finnick with these heels on. They must have decided that since you did so well in the smaller ones, that you’ll do just fine with the bigger, taller ones.

You’ve grown at least three inches.

The dress is a beautiful baby blue. It’s an off the shoulder dress, and it relies mostly on your upper arm to stay in place. It clears room for your collarbones but doesn’t allow any cleavage to show. You’re happy for that part.

Around the top of the dress is white gems, upon closer inspection, they’re little water droplets. They’re placed irregularly, like they’ve been racing down a window when it’s been raining. The dress is long sleeved, but the arms are made out of the same see-through material the chariot outfit was made out of. It’s poofy, nowhere near skin tight.

The top part of the dress gathers at the waist, creating some wrinkles. This is where more gems appear, and then it gets bigger completely. It seems like leg slits are going to be your thing, because there’s one on this dress too. There’s two different materials for the bottom, the silk that’s the base, and then the same fabric that’s used for the arms and tops of the dress.

More blue eyeshadow and white eyeliner. Black mascara, you’re guessing because it brings out the color in your eyelashes more. Your mother’s ring is on your regular ring finger that you’ve been wearing it on this entire time. The shell necklace isn’t anywhere to be seen, this time it’s almost a choker. It’s made out of chain, it’s another wave but it’s a little loose around the neck. It doesn’t slide, though, it stays in place no matter how much you move.

Laurel also gave you little water droplet earrings that dangle. They’re uneven of course, still building off of that ‘water runnin’ effect.

“Wow.” you turn to look at yourself more, “This is amazing--”

“I know.” Laurel smiles to herself, “Don’t need to tell me twice.”

She then escorts you back to where Mags, Pleurisy, Peeta, Elysia and the rest of the teams are. Finnick is wearing a white shirt beneath a navy blue suit. Clearly they’re trying to savor the more feminine blue for you. But you’re sure that it would look good on him too.

“Wow!” Finnick’s mouth drops open.

“Yeah, I know. I said the same.” you laugh.

You take the elevator down to where the stage will be. Lining up with the other tributes. Once you see the others, you can clearly tell that you two are standing out a little more. Finnick especially, Pleurisy’s hair stylist must have used a ton of product to get curls like this to stay in place on Finnick’s head.

Trink nods approvingly at what you’re wearing, and then she goes back to looking at the stage. Soon, she’s introduced and you watch as she goes up for her interview.

You’re not all that nervous, despite the fact that you’ve never really been in front of people like this. Except for at the reaping, that’s the only time you can recall being put in front of a ton of people at once.

Not to make yourself nervous or anything, but you’ll only be put in front of a small audience. The real numbers are the people in the Capitol, and the districts. Your brothers back home will be watching you get up on stage. Watch you play as the dumb girl. You wonder what they’ll think about it all.

Before you know it, three minutes has passed. And then again. You’re quickly moving on to District Two, and then three. It isn’t until you’re standing on the steps of the stage where you get the little butterfly feeling. Finnick squeezes your hand a little bit, and then lets it go completely.

“(Y/n) Gallows!” Caesar is calling. You smooth out your dress, before bounding up the steps, making your face heat up immediately. He reaches for you hand, and you take it gently, letting him guide you to where you need to stand.

You’re already looking to the crowd with the wondrous look in your eyes. When you catch a couple of people, you wave eagerly, a smile spreading over your face easily.

“You’ve been in the Capitol for a few days, now,” Caesar begins, and you turn to look at him, nodding a little bit, “Anything in particular stand out?”

Your mouth falls open as you mock thinking, and then you giggle, “This entire place is beautiful! A much different scenery than there is in District Four! I was a little bummed when I couldn’t see the ocean, though.”

“Ah, the ocean.” he nods thoughtfully, “I see you’re wearing it in little bits, tonight.”

“Oh, yeah!” Another giggle, you’re getting tired of this. You hold out your hand for everyone to see, extending your neck a little more as if it’ll straighten out the choker, but it hasn’t moved from it’s perfect spot this entire time, “It shimmers in the light! My stylist is very smart!”

The audience reacts accordingly, a couple people exclaim how pretty the entire outfit is, Caesar builds off of that, “That ring, is it a token from your district?”

You widen your eyes a little bit, nodding a little slower this time, “It was my mother’s. My brothers gave it to me before I left.”

“And did they come to say goodbye?” he asks.

Well, that’s what you just implied, Caesar. But you keep going, “Oh! Of course, that’s how I got the ring,” the both of you laugh for a moment. Caesar then asks what you told them before you left, “I told them I would try to win.” you tuck some hair behind your ear, trying for the innocent look.

The buzzer goes off, saving you from making you look anymore like an idiot. There’s a couple of complaints that it ended too early for you. But Caesar sees you off, and you take a seat. Trink looks over, eyeing you up and down, and you give her a small smile. She nods, and then goes to look to Finnick, her face expression shifting entirely. She elbows Lennox a bit.

They’re still sizing him up.

You scowl very briefly, catching your mistake as you then turn to Finnick. You catch his eye for a moment and he winks at you. The camera’s don’t miss it, and you hold your hands up to your face as if you’re embarrassed. The truth is, is that you’re trying to hide your laugh at his not-so-subtly flirting. The camera pans in to your face, you wave a little bit.

Finnick plays the cocky role very well. You watch as he’s got the audience watching him very intently, interested in what he’s going to say next. None of it is a surprise, after a while, they expect what his reaction to things are going to be. But that doesn’t stop them from cheering at everything he says. The crowd is absolutely fawning over him.

His time is up before you know it, and he joins you in the seating. The girl to District Five is called up, and during that time, when the audience and the camera’s attention is shifted, Finnick reaches for your hand. You allow it, scooting your chair over a little bit to make it less noticeable.

Finnick laughs at your attempt.

-- CHAPTER SEVEN --

“Favorite color?”

“I thought you asked me that already?” He asks, and you give him a look.

“No, you asked me that. Favorite color?”

He thinks for a moment now, which gives you time to think of your next question. You’re hardly as good as Finnick when it comes to questionnaires apparently. He had a ton of questions for you, all sorts of variety. And here you are, asking the basic questions like his favorite color.

“Sea green.” He says, and you can’t help it when you scrunch your face.

“Sea green?” You repeat, and he laughs, nodding, “Why?”

His face turns a little red, which obviously means that it has to be embarrassing. You’re sure that he doesn’t appreciate it when you lean towards him a little more, excited for what the answer is going to be. He scowls for only a moment, and then sputters out a laugh.

“It’s because—“ he shakes his head, “It’s the color of the dress you wore during the tribute parade.”

“That’s it?” You ask, “That’s what you were so embarrassed about? After everything that we’ve done together you’re blushy because your favorite color is the color of a dress I wore?”

Seeing how ridiculous this is, he laughs, shrugging slightly, “I guess so.”

You yawn again, and this time you struggle to keep your eyes open after. Finnick laughs at you, and you lazily swing to punch him in the arm. It isn’t very hard, but it’s enough to make him complain about it.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You tell him, using the window to get up. Then, you trudge over to the bed, flopping onto it, “I’ve got to sleep.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He tells you, his voice faraway.

You’re about to agree that you’ll see him tomorrow. Until your brain starts thinking over what’s going to happen exactly. Is it another training day? Or is it something else?

And that’s when your eyes fly open and you sit upright on the bed. All the tiredness suddenly drains from your body as you look to Finnick.

You’re going into the games tomorrow—or today. It has to be sometime early in the morning. Today is the day you’ll be put on a pedestal. Sometime in the evening, you’ll be placed with the others.

“What is it?” Finnick asks.

You’ll be forced to kill your fellow tributes.

“We—the games.” You gasp, jumping out of the bed as you return to the window. The festival has long since stopped, probably because they’ll need to be up early tomorrow to watch you guys fight against each other. There will be reruns, but they like to be there when it actually happens.

“What about them?” Finnick comes back over to you slowly, and you place your hand against the window, then you turn to Finnick.

“They’re today! The games—!”

“Did you forget?” He asks.

Did you?

You’ve had this past week of getting prepared for sponsors, worrying about learning new tricks and making allies. You’ve been so caught up in Finnick and your feelings. You’ve neglected to think about when the games start. You’ve been having so much… so much fun that you’ve forgotten to count down the days.

You’ve been so carefree.

Maybe you are a damsel.

“I did.” You tell him, turning to the window, “I did forget.”

You have to get rest tonight or you’ll be screwed later. Even if it takes hours, as long as you try, it’ll be better than nothing.

“Bed, sleep.” You tell him, “Stay or go, I don’t care.”

“Staying.” He seems glad at the invitation.

Finnick curls up around you, and seems to fall asleep faster. You have to coax yourself into a mindset until you’re there. But even then, Finnick’s breathing is throwing you off and every time he shifts, you can’t help but jolt awake.

Eventually, you make a pattern out of Finnick’s breathing, matching it with your own. Slowly dragging you down under, until you’ve fallen asleep too.

The morning passes like a blur, though. Elysia wakes you up, Finnick nowhere to be seen. Then she tells you that he was up early, and he’s still taking a shower. Says you might as well do the same, so you take your time with scrubbing yourself clean, unsure when the next time will come.

Inside the games, they’ll likely offer a place for water in a couple of areas. But all the times you’ve watched and paid attention, it was mostly streams and ponds. Hardly anything above a pond. But the location changed every year, so maybe you’ll get lucky.

The longer you spend inside, the more likely you’ll get scars, and have dirt build up on your body. Under your nails, in your hair, in the creases of your skin. Blood does the same, which is why you’re hoping you won’t get the pleasure of having to kill anyone. And if you do, it doesn’t get all over yourself. The last thing you’ll need is having to walk around with blood on you for a while.

Clothes are one thing, but the skin is another. You’ll be able to feel when it layers onto your skin. When it dries and cracks in the heat. You hope that it doesn’t get too thick enough to the point where it’ll be able to be peeled off. Or you don’t accidentally smear it all over yourself.

Clothes you can wash, and you don’t feel the blood directly if it’s on the clothes. More like the weight, but even then it’s not really something to be worrying about.

You move your hair out of your face, this time so you won’t have to worry about it getting in your face when you’re running. Or during the small duration of the bloodbath at the cornucopia. You’re not entirely sure what the other career’s plans are, but to secure the cornucopia would be the best idea.

All the food, clothes, medicine and weapons you could ever want will be placed inside of it. It’ll have spears and tridents. Iodine for the water. Bread, dried fruits and vegetables. Clothes if yours get ripped and ruined from fighting.

It’s normally the career’s ideals for winning the games. They secure the one place that’ll keep them alive—because they don’t normally go hungry they’ll starve easily. Deprive them of weapons and they’ll be forced to use fists, while you might have made one yourself, or someone like the boy from district three. Medicine if they get hurt after hunting down the local tributes during the first couple of days.

Of course, they can get sponsors as well as the rest of you. But for the sponsors it’s less likely, because they do have the cornucopia. If they have all they ever need at the reach of a hand then what’s the point of sending them anything? If they run out of things towards the end of game, the prices skyrocket, and then sponsors don’t want to send shit anymore.

You hope that won’t be the case with you.

The plan is to kill the careers as fast and efficiently as possible. Do it without alerting the others, and go from there. Luring them seems brilliant, and the first one on your list is Trink. She’s going to get what’s been coming at her for the last couple of days. And like you said on the train when you were on the way here, she seems capable. She’s bigger than the average girl that gets thrown in, especially for a career.

You’re rushed when it comes to breakfast, because they’ve got to get you extracted to the arena as soon as possible. Elysia bids you and Finnick goodbye, before taking off to the betting area. Where she’ll be lining up the sponsors for Mags.

Mags gives you the bit of advice that you already know, to stay the hell out of the bloodbath and run in the other direction. The only problem with that is, is that you’re technically in the career pack. Running is out of the question, you’re going to have to head right on in. Also to set up a temporary camp, food and water, stock up as much as you can.

Mags kisses your foreheads, and she’s off too. Laurel comes in to escort you to the plane with Finnick and his stylist, Pleurisy. There, Laurel promises to see you again really soon, and you and Finnick are brought up to the plane.

Once inside, he’s sat across from you. A man comes up to you, a thick needle in his hand as he looks over it slightly. You hold your arm out reluctantly, you’ve never been afraid of needles and you’re not going to start now. He presses the needle to your arm, and then finally looks to you, “Tracker.”

When he slides it in with no prior notice, you jump a little bit. You wince when it’s inserted, because it does hurt. And then he moves on to another unlucky tribute, but they don’t look as willing. You watch as she has to have her arms held, and even then she’s struggling.

“Hey!” you push yourself up, and Finnick goes to grab your hand to stop you. Sliding past him, you move the workers aside, “You can’t assault her like that.”

“We’re not.” the man who put the tracker in your arm says.

“You’re going to leave bruises and that’s against the rules. Even if you’re not getting thrown in personally, we’re supposed to be packaged goods.” you shove him aside, the other girl working for the Capitol moves out of the way for you. You crouch down in front of the district girl, and it looks like she might be from twelve. Wobbly knees, probably one of the poorer parts of the district.

“Can I see your arm please?” you ask her, and she carefully shows you it. You’re very gentle when you place your finger where the tracker will go, “Just right here. It’ll pinch a whole lot, but the pain goes away, okay?”

She nods, but doesn’t look happy. You offer her your hand, and she takes it. The man goes to do it, then he stops the second he sees the look in your eye. The girl gladly steps in, and she’s very gentle too when placing it in. Giving the twelve girl a heads up before placing it in. The girl squeezes as tightly as possible, but soon she stops.

You brush her hair back and give a smile, “See? Not so bad.”

“Thank you.” she mumbles, and you laugh, going back to where you were sitting before.

The plane ride is quiet, you and Finnick mostly steal glances at each other. Until you’re lowered to where you need to be in the tunnels. There, you’re split up. He doesn’t go before giving you a quick kiss though, promising to find you in the mess that will go on above. Told you not to get killed too quickly. He wants the district back home to at least know that you’re a thing.

Laurel is very courteous. She asks you if there’s anything she can get you at the last minute. You get bread and water, filling yourself up as full as possible before you’re sent up. You hope that Finnick has enough sense to do the same.

She tells you that it was a pleasure being able to design your outfits. She tells you that you and Finnick are her best bets. She says that she’ll send anything she can afford when you’re in need of it. And you promise her too, that you’ll try and win. You’ve been making this promise a lot lately, whether you’ve mentioned it or not.

Your brothers, Caspian, Finnick, Elysia, Mags and now Laurel. You really have to fall through with it now.

When the final countdown is announced, you give Laurel a hug, apologize for the mess you’re about to leave behind, and then she stops you, grabbing your hand. She slips on the ring, telling you that it passed the test. She wishes you good luck, you step in the tube.

It feels just like a coffin.

-- CHAPTER EIGHT --

They raise you slowly, allowing you to take in your first sights. Which is a blue sky, clear of anything abnormal. The higher you get, the more you can see. Trees, plenty of them to your right. You can smell the faint scent of the sea, or some salty body of water. It’s close.

Higher up you can see sand, and then you see the water. The arena is shaped like a dome, so there’s not really any corners. But it’s sectioned off like there’s supposed to be corners. The cornucopia is in the very middle, staring at it dead on you can see two of the terrains. Behind it to the right is a beach, palm trees litter it, beyond that is the body of water that you can smell. The beach doesn’t last for too long, but just enough to make the water look like a mirage.

You can hear a waterfall, hopefully buried somewhere inside of that water area. A place you’ll be able to retreat to if the alliance goes to shit. You’ll have to mention that to Finnick privately, let him know that would be the rendezvous spot if you two were to be split up. Or the other would be driven out by the stupid ass tributes that you made friends with.

You may or may not be regretting that now.

Because it would be so much easier to kill them than keep them around. But anything to survive what you’re about to live through, right?

There’s trees all around the rest of the place. The cornucopia is in a very small clearing, only large enough to hold the pedestals for the tributes and the cornucopia itself. Most of the trees nearly come into contact with the metal plates, it’s cutting so close.

If the girl next to you really wants, she could lean over and touch the branch behind her. You hope she has the common sense not to do it. However, that would be the fastest way to go so you don’t have to die a painful death. Getting exploded into a million pieces because you stepped off before the designated sixty seconds, really is tempting.

She doesn’t do it, and before you know it, the first thirty seconds have passed.

There’s a ring of tributes, and you try to memorize who is where. There’s only so many you can see because of the structure blocking it. That’s fine, you’re sure that most of them will try to run anyway.

To your right is the girl from ten, you think. Small, feeble, easy to kill if she tried to come at you. Next to her is the boy from three, and he looks like he’s positioning himself to run, not a problem. Lennox is next to three, and the both of you make eye contact for a moment. He grins, like he’s enjoying the first shot of adrenaline that he’s going to be getting the second he steps off. Asshole.

Girl from three, boy from six, Eytelle. She also looks like she’s going to be running towards the cornucopia, so it looks like that you’re going to be doing is obvious. You’re going to have to match what they’re doing. Can’t be seen as the chicken who didn’t want to go right on in. You may be playing dumb, but you’re not that dumb.

Next to you is the girl from seven, Cass. She offers you a small nod, like she’s challenging you to a race. She’ll be stepping off for the middle, which isn’t great. You liked her, and you were hoping that she’d be alive for a long time. Trink is on the other side of her, and she’s eyeing Cass like she wants to pounce immediately and not even wait for the weapons.

Another couple of nobodies after that, and then you can’t see anymore. This only means that Finnick, Thyme and Allio are on the other side. Maybe Cass’s district mate too, but he’s not a part of the alliance. You’ve only kept a tab on the seven tributes because they’re good with axes. If they’re smart, they’ll team up with the boy from three to get their own personal weapons made. But it doesn’t look like they’re that smart.

You look up to the sky to see an extra five seconds. How you’ve managed to analyze that so quickly, you’re unsure. But you’re glad that you’re processing things quickly. Because you’ve got to go.

The gong sounds, and you’ve stepped off the metal plate instantly, sprinting towards the middle as fast as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that not even Lennox is that fast. You’re first to the cornucopia, getting your hands on a sword first, since the spears are buried in the back. Along with whatever else will be put there for specific districts.

One quick glance, no trident in sight. Finnick will suffer.

You spin around quickly, and ten is at the edge of your sword, reaching for a weapon herself. You can feel that fear pierce your heart quickly, and suddenly you’re swinging the sword as fast as you can manage. Eyes glued to the girl to make sure that she doesn’t get to you first.

However, you have the misfortune of watching her head come clear off. The blood squirts everywhere but onto you. But you can still feel the spots where it should be itching. Your neck, face, arms, the rest of your body. Thick, thick layers--

“Wow!” Trink’s voice is peppy, and she takes the sword from your hand quickly, “Good job, Gallows.”

She throws the sword at a boy from five. You watch as it goes clean through his back, he falls to his knees. All sorts of things spill from his arms, scattering around his body. Around him, there is no one.

The boy from district six then comes in, like he’s prepared to do whatever it takes to kill you guys. But he falls too, blood trickling out of his mouth, dribbling down his chin. You’re not surprised to see Allio, Finnick and Thyme. Thyme is being held onto tightly by Allio, he throws her forward.

“Tried to run. Let her mate go.”

“Should kill her now--” Trink starts circling her like a vulture.

Behind her, a glint of light. You take the knife from one of the boxes likely filled with food and medicine, and you throw it before you even see who it is. Just like that, you watch as Thyme’s district mate falls, sword falling from his hands too. The one that you had used on the first girl, and the one that Trink had used on the boy from five.

You step out of the cornucopia long enough to see who’s dead, and while you’ve been caught up in watching them kill the others, you completely spaced the fact that there might be more dead. It wasn’t just you guys fighting, everyone had been struggling to get the stray items that were strewn randomly to at least give them a chance. It’ll be a boring set of games if you’re able to kill them immediately.

Cass is dead, a snapped neck you’re sure. Boy from five and six it looks like, they’re from you guys. You got the girl from ten and the boy from eleven. But the girl from three is like a starfish, facing the sky. A couple feet away is the girl from eight, and then the boy from nine is just on the edge of the trees.

“Three kills.” Allio sounds proud of himself, “You guys?”

“Thanks for the save.” Trink winks at you, and then she dives straight into the boxes, forgetting about killing Thyme.

“One.” Finnick tells you, you whisper your small ‘two’.

Trink snorts, “Two. The stupid lumberjack bitch thought she’d be able to make it here before I could. Then five was too easy.”

Lennox hadn’t got anyone, he fought the boy from ten for a minute but he slipped out of grasp. Eytelle and Thyme are both zero, Eytelle doesn’t seem too ashamed by the number, she says that she’ll just make up for it later. Which really opens your eyes to see that they think this shit is just one big fucking game for them.

You guys pack up a bag or two, before clearing out of the cornucopia to allow the gamemakers to collect the bodies. You take the canteens and the iodine down to the water, filling up. On the way, you can hear the cannons.

You count them out for the others, deciding that you can have the brains now.

“Only eight?” Allio sounds unimpressed.

“Not many people to kill in the first place.” Thyme mutters, filling up her canteen with water, and then looking into it a little bit, like she’s suspicious, “There’s seven of us already.”

Eytelle shrugs, “Still a good number down. I’m sure that we’ll be able to get more tonight.”

You share a look with Finnick, wondering if you’ll be able to take out one of them during that time. He must be thinking the same thing, because he looks down, smiling at the ground. He carefully shuffles over to you, before throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“Mags is probably mad at us.”

“I would be too.” you laugh, and you guys get a little close for a second, like he’s about to kiss you. But then he pulls away, and Lennox wants to go back to the middle before one of the others can rob you guys.

Like you said, they’re about securing the middle so they can thrive off of it the entire time. Makes you wonder if it’ll be possible to destroy everything in the middle to keep them from living for so long. Blame it on one of the singled out tributes that won’t be anywhere to be seen until the final minutes.

The boy from three would be perfect. He knows his way around weapons, so it would be believable if he destroyed it. However, that would just mean you’re placing a bounty on his head, and you’re not entirely sure if you’ll be able to live with that. But then again, you’ve already killed two people, who’s to say that hasn’t ruined you already?

Maybe it won’t be you killing him directly, but one of the others will be doing it. The guilt will eat you alive—then again you have just killed two people, where’s your guilt now?—and you’ll have to see the families of the tributes you killed if you do win. For people like Trink, Allio, Lennox and Eytelle, it’s not a big deal.

They’ve been training for this their entire lives. They volunteer, they’re not picked. They want to be inside of the games, so they can have the cash and glory when they get back home. They’ll stand proud in front of the tribute families, they’ll sneer at the ones that they killed. They don’t fucking care because to them, it’s just a small price to pay for a big house, infinite money and the memory of being a winner.

Careers are fucking nuts.

You pull Thyme and Finnick back a moment, the others don’t notice. Too busy planning out when you guys will go out and kill. Makes you sick to your stomach.

“There’s a waterfall in the lake.” You tell them, “We scope it out, check to make sure if it’s possible to stay inside. If we get separated, we go back there.”

They nod, and then you bounce a little bit, letting the smile come over your face, “So, are we going out tonight?”

“Yeah, might as well,” Allio flashes you a look, “Up for it?”

“She’s got two under her belt, I’m sure she’s ready.” Finnick mutters, the others ignore it, and he turns to you, “How are you holding up?”

“Not insane yet.” You tell him, Thyme laughs at this, shaking her head.

At the cornucopia, you gather the backpacks for them. Inside, it’s got iodine, bread and a sleeping bag. All the other years they had packed well, if you had one of these, a knife and knew how to hunt, you would have to try to die. This year it looks like they decided to undersupply.

Thyme rations out the food, calmly explaining that they should try to eat as little as possible. The food will last longer that way, and it wouldn’t hurt for them to do it anyway. If you guys do happen to run low on food, then they’ll only have to eat a little bit to survive. She tells them to be prepared to drop in body weight, and stay hydrated. Water might be a good substitution.

You know all of this, so it isn’t a bother. You and Finnick stand next to each other. He keeps messing with your hair, and you keep ruffling his. A ton of curls lay on top, it looks like they did something to make them stay permanently. Personally, you prefer his straight hair, you hope that the curls will go away sooner rather than later.

He plays with your ring on your finger a little bit as you look around, distracted. Because the feeling that someone is watching you is beginning to freak you the hell out. You look over the tree line next to you first, and then the one behind Finnick.

The others are talking about where they want to start. By the lake on the left side or the right? They think no one will be dumb enough to try and go into that water unless they want to die. At sometime or another these other tributes had to have gone into the water and learned how to swim at some point, right?

You and Finnick are probably the best in the arena, coming from four. But that doesn’t mean that the others might be just as good.

If most of them can’t swim then that means the lake is the best bet.

Another idea pops into your mind, but you keep this one to yourself. In case there is a way to execute it, you’ll want it for emergencies. However, you wonder if there’s any willows hanging over the water. Or some vines running along the rocks.

Finnick will be able to make them a lot better than you will. But you’ll be able to tie the knots for him. You two can work together on it. It will have to be at the end of the games so they don’t see it coming. Draw in the careers and then kill them.

Perfect.

“We’re starting on the right of the lake.” Eytelle decides, tired of the bickering, “Let’s go.”

You keep your water in hand, knowing that there’s more in the bag if you run out. On the walk around the arena, you listen as they talk about their own family life. Occasionally they’ll ask you a question out of what looks like genuine curiosity. You keep the conversation flowing, because you want to know what the hell is in the minds of a couple of lunatics.

You find out that Thyme has a couple of sisters. Two older ones, one of them looks nothing like her, and it’s a speculation about who her mom had gotten with in order to have her. Her mom constantly denies that she cheated, but it’s a running joke. All of it is good fun.

Trink is an only child, but Lennox has a younger brother back home. Allio has an older sister but a ton of younger brothers. Eytelle is the oldest sister of two.

It goes around like that. You’ll ask a question, everyone will go around, and it stops at Finnick, even though you know almost everything about him now. Soon enough, you all are laughing it off, like a couple of actual friends.

It’s only been a few hours since the games have started. The sun isn’t that hot just yet, but you’re sure they’ll turn up the temperature later on. When the stakes are getting higher and the water runs dry.

Another hour passes just hunting. Thyme collects berries and leaves. She’ll peel bark off of trees and nibble on it in the men’s time. The others don’t seem as interested, and they even look down upon her a little bit. She says that if they can, then preserving the food would be smart.

Since you’re the only one with precise aim, you’re put on the duty of throwing knives. You’re able to take down a squirrel and rabbit. You see something move off to the side in the bushes, but you hesitate. The others don’t catch this, since they’re up ahead. But Finnick does, and he turns to look immediately.

Crouched in the bushes is the boy from three. He holds up a makeshift knife, and you don’t know if it’s meant to be threatening or not. Finnick looks like he wants to launch, but you settle the problem immediately by pressing your finger to your lips and motioning for him to get down. Then, you take Finnick’s arm and pull him along.

“What—“

“Shush.” You tell him, pushing past him as you get back to the others. But on the way, he holds you long enough to say;

“Making friends with everyone is not how you win.” And then he lets you go.

You’re not making friends, you’re giving them chances. It’s not your fault that the others had missed him initially. Your goal isn’t to kill as many people as possible, every single person that you come across. Your goal right now is to take out the career pack, which you can’t do immediately. It’ll take time to build up to.

Well, maybe you should have started a fight with three. It would have given you an opportunity to kill one of the others while you’re at it. Then the pack would be down to six, and it would continue to get slimmer. It’ll happen sooner or later, but you wonder when they’ll finally realize that it’s you, Finnick and Thyme till standing while it’s two or even one of the others.

All of them dying tragic deaths while they’re out with one of you. Trink dies to a knife thrown at her. Eytelle is drowned, Lennox is hung and Allio dies because of another tribute. Doesn’t have to be in that order, but could you imagine?

You’re hoping that the districts and the Capitol know of the plan that you’re forming. If they’ll switch who they’re betting on to one of you. Although, it is very popular for one of the outsider districts to be good, only for them to fail later on. The sponsors had learned their lesson after a while, getting on the poorer districts, only for the careers to win time after time again.

They’re basically wasting their money trying to aid someone that turns out to be a dud. You know that you’d be betting on the careers after that. Notice the pattern in which the careers win, and go from there. It really is all about potential. Their size, the district they come from, the number they get inside of the private session with the gamemakers. Who they’re posing as and all of that.

“Sun is setting already.” Thyme mutters, and you turn to see where it’s setting.

“Set up camp here?” Lennox proposed, but three comes to mind nad you turn to see Finnick thinking the same thing.

“Sure. I’ll take first watch.” You tell them, watching as Thyme sits right where she’s standing, and the others follow.

You're all sitting near a big tree, hidden by bushes slightly. If someone were to walk by, they likely wouldn’t see you. But watching as Trink throws in some wood and pine, she’s going to swans a fire. That will definitely let the others know where you are.

There’s seven of you, it won’t be that hard to kill you all at once. You know what to look out for, dark hair, blue eyes. You’re sure that Finnick will even stay awake to help you out with watching for him. The problem with that, is that you might allow three to kill one of the,, and then alert. While Finnick will alert immediately.

Actually, you really have no clue how he’ll react. He’s a different story, he’s got other things goes on inside of his head. He looked down at you when you spoke of your kills as if you were supposed to just stand there and let them kill you. He didn’t look that impressed with the waterfall idea.

Maybe he’s also realizing how useless the temporary romance was. That it was just getting the both of you attached to each other. Making it harder to kill…

You can’t help it when you go to glare at Finnick. If his entire ploy was to get you to like him and then use that against you, he’s going to have another thing coming. He thinks that you’ll hesitate when it comes to killing him, huh? Just because he’s from back home, doesn't mean that you’ll spare his life for your own.

Allio and Lennox get Finnick stuck in a conversation, giving Trink a perfect time to slide up next to you as you start the fire to cook the meat, “I saw the look you gave him.”

“And?” You ask, you’re really just hoping he didn’t see that. Two can play at that game. If he knows that you know, then it’ll be ruined. If he thinks that he can't get you to fall for him and not let it be the other way around, you have your own strategies.

“Nothing.” She crosses her legs, and you focus on the fire. It light a lot faster than it did inside of the training center, because you’re not for the dumb act anymore. She won’t know the difference anyway, she’ll be too focused on saving her own skin.

Thyme comes over to help you clean the body. It’s mostly silence, but being left alone to your own thought did torture. Thinking of what he did in the training center was all for show. Get you to soften up when it comes to him. He was probably just glad that you were the first to offer an alliance so it wouldn't look suspicious.

“How long do these alliances normally last?” You ask bitterly, Eytelle snorts.

“Couple of days. I give it until there’s five other tributes left in the arena with us,then we split.”

“So four more until we hit that point, huh?” You ask.

“We might keep you around.” Trink grins, “Eytelle and I are planning on hightailing it the fuck out of here the second there’s a sign of danger.”

“Sounds smart.” Thyme mutters.

“You’re invited, kid.” Eytelle says, and then she gets up to go to the guys. She kicks leaves all over Allio, before letting them know that if they want to eat, they better come over.

You all gather around the fire, thinking the second alliance over. There’s a lot going on at the moment. First is you and Finnick, second is you, Finnick and thyme. Third is the entire pack, and fourth is you, Eytelle, Trink and Thyme. Then there’s the really quiet ones, like three and the boy from district seven, Mac.

They’re not people you would rely on, but you I’d talk to all of them before the private session. Made a friend out of some of them. Then again, you did kill two of them. Boy from eleven and girl from ten. But that’s their own fault, they should have known better than to go into the middle, would have lasted a lot longer if they had just ran, all of them.

As you guys are trading food, drinking water and still talking, the anthem for the fallen begins to play. On the way to look to the sky, Finnick shares a look with Lennox. They have the same thing that you and the other girls have. Him, Allio and Lennox are gonna split when shit gets shaky.

Those in the sky are the people from the bloodbath. There were no other following deaths that you know of.

First on screen is the girl from three, boy from five, following is the boy from six. Cass from seven, boys from eight and nine. Then the girl from ten, and finally the boy from eleven.

“I’m surprised district twelve lasted this long.” Allio remarks, a couple of them laugh, including Finnick.

They’re quick to wrap up the night, not really wanting to go and hunt around. There will be plenty of time to do it tomorrow. And you promise to wake them up if anything happens. Like smoke from a fire or a part of the forest lights up.

You stomp out the fight and then sit against the tree, holding onto the little knife in your hand tightly. The others curl up next to each other, mainly Trink and Lennox.

Thyme sticks close to some bushes, probably for an easy escape. Allio and Eytelle are on opposite sides of the fire. And Finnick sits next to you.

You wish you could just ignore him and call it a night. But you’re going to give it away that you know.

“Why did you let him go?” Finnick asks after a while of silence, making sure that they’re asleep. He must have noticed the pattern in breathing just the same as you did.

“Didn’t see a point in killing him.”

“He’s smart, (Y/n). He’ll come back with a knife or something, you saw him in the training center—“

“Maybe he’ll spare my life later on, did you think about that?” You ask him, turning to look at Finnick, “he owes me. Because had we told them, you know that it wouldn’t have been a quick death.”

He takes this into consideration, and then speaks quietly, “And if he comes over here tonight?”

“I’ll wake you up.” You grab his jaw, making him look to you, “Promise.”

When you let go, he gives you a kiss. Then, you watch as he pulls out the sleeping bag, still staying right beside you. You place your hand on his back, and then you look to the woods.

You’ll keep him safe. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

LACUNA IS THE FIRST VERSION OF BELAMOUR

//MASTERLIST//

#ilguna #finnick odair #lacuna chapter five #lacuna chapter six #lacuna chapter seven #lacuna chapter eight #lacuna

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starshine583 · 4 years

Text

Crossing a Line (19)

(so this was actually supposed to be the last chapter, but it got long so I had to stop lol enjoy!)

Part 1 / Part 18 / Part 20

Felix held his ground next to Marinette, worried and terrified at the same time. He thought telling his Father about the wish would discourage him from using it, but his Father only got angry, instead, spouting nonsense about “sacrifices” and “family”. Why was he angry? There was still a cure. There was no need to fight! Why wouldn’t he listen?

Marinette stepped forward and confronted his Father’s true intentions, which only made him angrier. Felix tried to calm the situation as it escalated, but Marinette promised to get the miraculous back, while Gabriel promised not to let that happen. It wasn’t until she pulled out his peacock miraculous that Felix realized compromise and negotiation weren’t options anymore.

“Duusu, spread my feathers!” Marinette cried, quickly pinning the miraculous to the lower front of her shirt. The familiar blue light he’d gotten used to seeing flash over his skin washed over her body, and Marinette’s casual outfit disappeared. The miraculous replaced it with a royal blue dress that faded into different colored feathers such as purple, dark blue, and indigo. Her gloves and high-heeled boots, which extended to her knees and mid-biceps respectively, were also royal blue, and the ends of each were covered in a dark blue, feather-shaped pattern that trailed up to the navy blue part of the suit, such as her collar bone, neck, and thighs. A short shawl made entirely of purple feathers wrapped around her shoulders as well, connected by a small, indigo pearl. It brought out the sparkling fuchsia that lined the front and back of the royal blue dress perfectly. If it weren’t for the circumstances, Felix might have been tempted to stop and study the fabric in all its magnificence.

Gabriel’s expression twisted with rage. “How did you get that?”

Marinette unclasped one of her fans from a metal button on the back of her dress and held it in front of her, showing the sharpness of the curved tip. “Let’s say it was a present from your son.”

Felix grimaced at the look of disdain his Father shot him.

“You gave her your miraculous?!” He fumed.

“No, I-!”

“Don’t talk back to me!” His Father growled. “I should have known not to trust you from the beginning!”

Felix flinched back as Gabriel lunged forward in a fit of rage. Before they could collide, though, a feather-shaped knife sank deep into Gabriel’s shirt sleeve, pinning him to a bookshelf. Felix looked to Marinette, who was already pulling another throwing knife out of her hair. He had thought the feathers that decorated her spread out bun were simply that, a decoration.

“Felix, run!” She ordered, throwing the second knife to pin Gabriel’s other arm to the bookshelf. “Go find my miraculous!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Felix argued, taking a step back from his struggling Father. The whole reason he took her miraculous in the first place was to protect her from this exact encounter.

Marinette stepped in front of him, but glanced over her shoulder as she said, “I’ll be fine. I have Duusu. Now go!”

Felix clenched his fists. He hated the idea of leaving her alone, but he didn’t have a miraculous. Anything he tried to do now would only get in her way.

Fueled by adrenaline, Felix stumbled to the other end of the aisle and sprinted towards the Library’s entrance. He almost ran into Gorilla on his way out. Earrings, Earrings- where would Father put Marinette’s earrings if he had them? This house was enormous. They could be anywhere!

He started with the office first, checking the only hiding place he knew Father had: the safe. Felix pulled open his Mother’s painting, and.. They weren’t there. He checked behind the smaller pictures, under the books, and practically pulled everything else out. There was nothing.

“Where are you?” He grumbled to himself, lifting up another pile of books.

“So you finally show your true colors.”

Felix froze, slowly turning around to see none other than Nathalie. She stood in front of him, wearing a crap-eating grin. He should have known she would appear eventually. Nathalie was always eager to be Father’s back up.

“I always knew you weren’t worthy of Gabriel’s trust.” She said, tilting her head up with all the poise of a condescending twit.

Felix heaved a tired sigh. “And I always knew you’d be the first one to lay down and let him treat you like a dog once I came to my senses.”

He didn’t want to believe what Marinette said about Father wanting power instead of Mother, but the proof was right in front of him. If Father truly cared about their family and Mother’s well-being, he would let Marinette try to cure her! And if family wasn’t what Father cared about, what else was left but power?

Nathalie let out a snooty little laugh. “Of course you would think that. You don’t understand anything. Your Father is a loving man who is doing the best that he can to raise you two and heal your Mother!”

"Raise us?” Felix scoffed. “He barely talks to us! And right now, he’s the one standing in the way of healing my Mother. So tell me where the earrings are!”

Nathalie tisked and tilted her head slightly to the side, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the black, circular earrings she was wearing. “They’re safe. Much safer than they were in your hands. Unlike you, I won’t be handing them back over to the enemy so easily.”

Felix shifted into a fighting position. “We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, you want to fight me now?” She asked, a smirk reappearing on her lips. When Felix didn’t answer, the smirk widened. “Good. I’ve been wanting to punch you in that perfect face of yours for years. Tikki, spots on!”

Felix’s eyes widened as Nathalie transformed in front of him. He hadn’t expected her to actually use the miraculous!

The red, magical light that covered her took away her professional suit and exchanged it with a red and black spotted costume. Black colored her forearms- save for the palms and fingers -and bottom half of her legs, acting as boots and gloves. A bit of black covered the sides of her waist as well.

“Well, Felix?” Nathalie taunted, taking one of the two yo-yos that hung on the utility belt around her hips. “You said you wanted the earrings. Why don’t you come take them?”

Felix grit his teeth. “Fine with me. Using Marinette’s miraculous will only make it more embarrassing for you when I get them back.”

Nathalie growled and slung her first yo-yo forward. Felix dodged and whipped around to grab the yo-yo string. Nathalie barely got a gasp of surprise out before he yanked on the string, causing her to fly forward. He hadn’t spent months as Le Paon lying around doing nothing. (Though that might have been part of it) No, he’d been fighting. Specifically against Ladybug and Chat Noir. He knew how her miraculous worked, and he knew it’s weaknesses. Most importantly, he knew that Nathalie knew none of that.

Nathalie hit the ground with a harsh grunt, but Felix didn’t have time to revel in her struggles. She cried out in rage and twisted her body to kick him in the legs. Felix fell forward, landing on top of Nathalie. She gasped, as he’d landed on her back, and struggled to get him off.

“Didn’t go as planned, huh?” He grunted, moving to grab one of her earrings.

Unfortunately, his attention was briefly diverted before he could. The library doors were thrown wide open when someone fell through the doorway. Upon closer inspection, Felix realized it was Hawkmoth who had gotten thrown out. Did Father transform? Where was Marinette?

Just then, Marinette jumped out of the doorway as well, still transformed and shouting for Gabriel to give up.

Felix’s thoughts were once again redirected when Nathalie bucked her body upwards, causing him to fall back onto the floor. She lifted herself to her knees a moment later and reached for her yo-yo again. Felix twirled on the floor to start getting up as well, but kicked her hand to stall the drawing of her weapon.

Nathalie drew her hand back and hissed. “Infernal child!”

“Only for you.” Felix shot back, pushed himself to his feet.

Nathalie was up a second later, and they got back to switching between chasing and hiding. She finally managed to unhook both of her yo-yos and started hurling them at Felix as fast as she could. Felix dodged them with the best of his ability, all the while jumping around the room for cover. She finally got one yo-yo wrapped around his left arm right when he reached the desk. Felix grappled for the desk chair in a desperate attempt to avoid being dragged back, but being a rolling chair, it only rolled back with him. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from using it to his advantage. Felix used the friction from his shoes to slow himself down right in front of Nathalie and swung the chair around with his free hand, smacking her in the side with it. Nathalie held up her forearms to block the blow, but flew to the side anyway. She slid to a stop, unfortunately still on her feet, and before Felix could detach the yo-yo from his arm, Nathalie yanked him forward once again and kicked him in the stomach.

Felix skidded across the floor, rolling to a stop at the office doorway. He sucked in ragged breaths to compensate for the air that had just been sucked out of his lungs. That was.. a decent move.

“Payback, brat.” Nathalie huffed, staggering back to regain her breath as well.

Felix lifted his head up to snap back at her when something made the words die in his throat.

“..My lady?”

Felix turned on his side to look through the office doorway, praying that he’d misheard something.

There Chat Noir stood, his cat ears flat against his head as he warily glanced between Marinette and Father, who had paused their battle to look at him. When did he get downstairs? Was Marinette trying to explain the situation?

“A- Chat Noir!” He called out. “Get back!”

He wanted Marinette to have help, but Adrien didn’t have the emotional stability to get involved. Father already had Ladybug’s earrings. If he found out who Chat Noir was, it would be nearly impossible to keep him from getting the ring.

Chat Noir’s eyes snapped to Felix’s, growing wide with surprise and worry. “Felix?”

Father followed Chat Noir’s gaze and raised a brow. Felix grimaced as he watched the gears turn in his Father’s mind, watched them click into place as Father realized how the hero knew where they were or why he seemed so worried about Felix.

“So.” Father began, turning back to Chat Noir. Felix couldn’t tell if he was delighted or angry. Probably a morbid twist or both. “My own son has been fighting against me.”

Crap.

“What?” Marinette and Chat Noir said in unison, though Marinette’s surprise was more directed towards the implication of Chat Noir’s identity.

“No wonder Felix decided to betray me as Le Paon. He must have been worried for your sake. It had nothing to do with this girl!”

Chat Noir furrowed his eyebrows. So much emotion was swirling across his brother’s features- hurt, confusion, denial. Felix could barely stand it.

“Wait..” He faltered, looking at Felix with a torn expression. “You’re Le Paon?”

“Don’t listen to him!” Felix begged, pushing himself to get up. He had to stop this. Adrien learning about Mother’s true condition was already a fragile subject in and of itself. Learning about Felix and Gabriel’s identities as the terrorists of Paris was bound to be too much. It would overwhelm anyone.

Before Felix could intervene, however, Father did the unthinkable. He detransformed. Right there. In front of everyone.

Felix couldn’t see his face, but Father’s tone was disturbingly pleased as he said, “Would I lie to you, Adrien?”

Chat Noir collapsed to the floor, staring up at their Father in horror. “No..”

“Adrien?” Marinette blanched. The surprise was a tad out of place considering the emotional turmoil that Adrien had to be going through, but Felix understood.

Unfortunately, so did Father. Saying Adrien’s name wasn’t merely for dramatic effect. He knew that Marinette and Adrien were friends in civilian form. That kind of reveal would knock her off her feet just long enough for him to detransform like he did.

Gabriel smiled at Chat Noir’s reaction, and Felix knew right then and there that he’d been played for a fool. This miraculous search was never about family. No father who truly cared for their family would smile at their child’s suffering.

Gabriel transformed again as Chat Noir was on his knees- on his knees! -and created an akuma. Felix jumped forward to stop it or get in the way, but Nathalie wrapped her yo-yo around his waist, planting him to the spot. Marinette was still too shocked to react quickly enough, so the akuma flitted forward, unbothered, and merged with Chat Noir’s bell.

“No!” Felix yelled. He jerked his body forward, pulling at the yo-yo string and pushing ahead with all of the strength he had. “Adrien, don’t do it! Resist him!”

His shouting finally snapped Marinette out of her trance, and she rushed to Chat’s side.

“Chat, it’s okay!” She tried to console despite the panic leaking through her voice. “We can get through this! Just fight it!”

“Against my Father?” Chat Noir whimpered back.

“Chat Blanc.”

Felix and Marinette held their breath when the purple outline appeared on Chat Noir’s face. Marinette threw one of her fans at Gabriel, but he easily dodged it as it twirled around the room to come back to her.

“Your brother is trying to decieve you, and your partner has misled you. I am trying to revive Emily, but to do that, I need your miraculous to do that.”

Chat Noir squeezed his eyes shut and drew his knees close to his chest, trying to drown out the words.

Marinette wrapped her arms around him. “Adrien, Minou, Kitty, please! Don’t listen to him! Come back to me.”

“Help me fight for you Mother, Adrien.” Gabriel persisted. “We can bring her back together. We can be a family again.”

“We can.. We can bring her back?”

Felix’s heart sank. “Adrien, no!”

“Don’t do it!” Marinette pleaded.

“All I need is your cooperation.” Gabriel promised.

A tear slipped down Chat Noir’s cheek, and his purple mask dropped long enough for him to look Marinette in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No!”

“Adrien!”

Black and purple bubbles swallowed Chat Noir whole, and Marinette scrambled backwards. When the bubbles disappeared, Chat Noir was gone, and Chat Blanc was left sitting there. His suit was the same as Chat Noir’s, except it was stark white and his green eyes were replaced with a chilling, ice blue.

Felix tensed as Adrien slowly stood up and lifted his hand towards Marinette.

“My lady..” He said, forming a ball of light at the end of his finger tips. Felix didn’t want to see what that did. “Please.. stand down and give me your miraculous. I have to save my mother.”

Marinette held up a hand as well, but it was in a calming gesture. “Adrien, I’m trying to save your mother! I have the power to heal her, but I need my miraculous back!”

Chat stalled, proving he had some of his sense left. “You can?”

Felix jerked forward again, but Nathalie kept him in the same place. “It’s true! Gabriel won’t give us Ladybug’s miraculous back because he wants to use the wish instead of letting Marinette heal her by herself!”

Gabriel glanced at Felix when he didn’t call him ‘Father’, but Felix kept his gaze on Adrien. If Gabriel thought that Felix would consider him anything close to family after this, he was more demented that Felix thought.

Chat turned his ball of light to Gabriel. “Is that true?”

“Of course not!” Gabriel spat. “They’re lying! They only want the earrings back to keep us from the wish!”

“No!” Felix protested. “The wish has a curse to it! If we use it to heal Mother, someone else will take her place and become comatose just like her! M- er -Ladybug can heal her without that consequence!”

“Everything they say is a lie!” Gabriel yelled. “They’re only trying to manipulate you!”

“Adrien, you know me!” Marinette tried again. “We’ve been partners for months, confided in each other, and risked our lives for each other. Please, I would never try to manipulate you, Minou.”

Chat Blanc turned his ever-increasing ball of light from Felix, to Marinette, to Gabriel. His face grew more conflicted and grieved with each statement. They were all shouting at him and making it worse, but Felix couldn’t help pleading. He didn’t want Adrien to do something he would regret, and Marinette was so close to him..

Felix’s blood ran cold when Chat Blanc finally broke from the pressure.

“Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!” He screamed, jerking his hand downwards. In his loss of concentration, the ball of light shot from his fingertips, slamming right into the floor. It broke a hole straight to the basement within seconds, but the decay didn’t stop there. The rust spread to the rest of the main floor, covering every inch except the steps, the library, and the office that Felix was standing in. The ground crumbled beneath them, taking Gabriel, Marinette, and Adrien with it.

“No!” Felix yelled, his heart stopping in his chest. His last fight with the slime monster flashed through his mind, when the debri and dust from the rooftop fell on top of him before everything went dark. How far was the main floor from the basement? Would Marinette survive the fall? Would anyone survive the fall? Would they live through the debri that came after?

Felix whirled around and swung his foot through the air, catching the yo-yo string and stomping it to the ground. Nathalie, shell-shocked from seeing Gabriel fall, fell forward again, and Felix took that lenience in grip to slip out of the yo-yo string and run for the opening.

Dust was flying everywhere now. He could hardly take a breath without coughing, let alone see clearly enough to find survivors. That didn’t stop him from kneeling on the ground and shouting for Marinette, though. She had to be somewhere. She would call up to him, perfectly fine, and everything would be alright.

So why couldn’t he hear anything?

Felix’s throat tightened as he screamed. He screamed her name over and over again into the abyss and didn’t hear a darned thing. It was silent, save for the occasionally crumbling of the debri below, and he was terrified. Where was she- Where was she? No, no, no, no-

“MARINETTE!!”

Panicked and sick to his stomach with worry, Felix shot to his feet and turned to Nathalie, who had just started to recover from his sudden escape. She was the only one left that had a miraculous. The same miraculous that might be able to save Marinette and Adrien if Felix could get his hands on it in time.

Nathalie barely caught a glimpse of his fist flying towards her face when he lunged at her.

~~~~~~

The room swayed in the darkness. Debri crumbled around her, yet it sounded distant, similar to an echo. Marinette drew in a breath, but immediately coughed it back out. The air was thick with dust, too thick.

She opened her eyes, hoping to make out her surroundings amidst the tan clouds around her. A large stream of light poured down on her from the gaping hole in the floor above her. Unfortunately, it was too clouded for her to see anything past the hole.

A voice floated down from above, but it was too faint to make out. She laid there for a moment, waiting to hear it again.

Nothing.

Marinette sat up despite her body’s aching protest and scanned the room again. A few chunks of debri were scattered around her, but she had thankfully been untouched, aside from hitting the ground, that is. She curled her fingers together, feeling the gaps and patterns of the metal walkway underneath her. Where was she? Had they fallen to a basement of some sort?

“Felix?” She called out, a mix of hopeful and concerned towards what she might hear in response. Did he get caught in the fall too? He didn’t have a miraculous to protect him like they did. What if he’d gotten seriously injured?

“Adrien!” She called next. It might not be the smartest idea, but akumatized or not, she wanted to make sure that her partner was alright. There was also the possibility that the fall broke his akumatized item.

Her calls were only met with silence.

Beep! Beep!

Marinette looked down at her miraculous, barely catching sight of the last feather leaving the fan before she detransformed.

Duusu fell into her lap, looking absolutely exhausted. “Sorry, Miss Marinette.. Keeping you safe from injury takes a lot of work.”

Marinette offered a smile and softly petted the top of the kwami’s head. “It’s alright, Duusu. You’ve done plenty.”

Cupping the kwami in her palms, Marinette pushed herself to her feet and looked around. The dust was finally starting clear a bit, just enough for her to make out the room she’d fallen into. A grated, metal pathway led from the piled debri behind her to a small, garden-looking area up ahead. A flickering light above revealed some sort of casing in the middle of the greenery, also untouched by the caved in floor.

Curious, Marinette wandered towards it. The sides of the case shone as bright gold under that flickering lights, and the glass on top gave a white glare, making it hard to see through at first.

It’s strange, She thought, to put such a large and beautiful case in a basement where no one will see it.

Why go through the trouble of making it at all? Was it simply not finished?

She cupped her free hand on the glass and peered inside. Whatever this held- if anything -had to be extremely important. The flickering light didn’t help her to identify anything. It only allowed her to gather bits and pieces at a time. Something white was inside.. An outfit? It looked like a manikin was wearing it. But then she noticed hair. Golden hair that looked exactly like Adrian’s. And the face..

Marinette almost dropped Duusu from shock.

“Emilie!” She gasped, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. Had Mlle. Agreste been here this whole time? Who keeps someone locked up like this?

“Well, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette whipped around, pushing herself against the case from reflex. Gabriel stood in front of her, somehow still transformed, and he had a horribly malicious grin on his lips.

The debri must have missed him too.

“Now you truly know all of my secrets.” He mused, gesturing to the glass coffin behind her. “But I see it has cost you.”

Marinette held Duusu closer to her chest. She scanned the room behind Gabriel, but didn’t see Chat Blanc anywhere. “Where’s Adrien?”

Gabriel raised an uncaring brow. “I’m sure he’ll find his way back to the fight soon enough.”

Marinette shot him a glare. “How can you say that? He’s your son! Don’t you care about his well being at all?”

What if he’s hurt? Or worse, dead! She doesn’t have her miraculous to bring him back this time!

Gabriel scoffed. “The sooner you stop resisting, the sooner he will be healed with the miraculous. It’s ludicrous to care about injuries when they are easily reversible.”

“He still goes through the pain!” She couldn’t help yelling. “What about that?”

“He’ll forget the pain.” Gabriel snapped back. “After all, it’s only temporary.”

Marinette grit her teeth, but when she opened her mouth to reply-

“You would think that.” A voice took the words right from her mouth.

She looked up just in time to see someone swing in from the main floor. Although she couldn’t make out the face, Marinette recognized the voice immediately.

“Felix!” She cried, relief filling her chest. He must have avoided the fall. And he had her miraculous!

“Marinette.” He replied almost instantly, pure relief leaking through his tone as well.

Gabriel scowled at the boy as he entered their vision. A black and red costume indeed covered his body, signifying the fact that he was the new wielder of the Ladybug miraculous.

“Where’s Nathalie?” Gabriel barked.

Felix pulled one of the two yo-yos off of his waist- why didn’t she ever think of having two yo-yos? -and smirked. “Safe. And out of your reach.”

Marinette smiled at the mocking comment, but Gabriel was less than amused. He sprang forward with a growl, causing Felix to jump back so he could keep the distance between them. Marinette remembered having to fall back to use her weapons properly. She always hated leaving Chat at the front lines, but long distance was her best vantage point when it came to yo-yos.

Felix swung both yo-yos in two perfect circles at his side as he moved backwards. As soon as he got the chance to pause in his movements, he threw the first yo-yo forward and latched it onto Gabriel’s staff, easily wrapping around it in a tight hold. Gabriel smirked at the supposed attack and yanked back on the staff to draw Felix forward, but Felix, expecting the reaction, immediately let go of the first yo-yo and threw his other yo-yo forward, quickly wrapping it around Gabriel’s arms and rendering them useless. He then dug his feet into the ground and pulled as hard as he could.

Gabriel yelped as he flew towards him, and with the new momentum, Felix literally swung Gabriel in a circle around the room. Marinette watched with wide eyes as the man crashed into a few debri piles. If she didn’t know any better, she might have thought that Felix had been using the Ladybug Miraculous all along. His movements were planned and meticulous. Even as he threw Gabriel back onto the metal walkway right in front of her, Marinette stood still, not feeling the need to flinch. It was glaringly obvious that Felix knew what he was doing.

“Give up.” Felix ordered, pulling the yo-yo string tighter around Gabriel as he stepped closer. “This battle is over.”

Gabriel, through coughs, looked up to sneer at Felix. Marinette thought he was going to go on a rant about disloyalty or vengeance, but, strangely, his head only cocked to the side slightly.

“Yes, I believe it is.” He replied, his voice bone-chillingly gleeful.

Marinette’s gaze snapped upwards, just behind Felix where Gabriel was looking. A white figure had appeared in the dust and debri, standing with their arm raised directly at her and Felix.

Her eyes widened.

“FELIX, LOOK-”

It was too late. The white blast of light hit the metal grate directly to their left, causing a destructive blast that pushed all three of them back. Gabriel took Felix’s imbalance as an opportunity to escape his bounds and scramble away from them. Marinette, however, groaned from the backlash of the blast and rubbed her head. Was there supposed to be a high-pitched ringing in her ears?

Through squinting eyes, she tried to search for a way out, all while fighting back a fresh headache. With Chat Blanc on his feet and fighting again and with Duusu still resting in her hand, Felix had no chance of winning this fight, especially now that Gabriel was free.

A hand gently grabbed her shoulder, and she looked up to see Felix next to her.

“Marinette.” He whispered, looking her over for injuries.

“Felix.” Marinette sighed in relief, putting her hand on his. He’s okay.

Felix glanced over at Chat Blanc, who was quickly approaching. “I need to get you out of here.”

Marinette’s grip on his hand tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes!” Gabriel cheered before Felix could reply.

Maniacal laughter erupted from the man as he spread his arms out wide. “Well done, Adrien! Now, help your Father bring our family together again and get their miraculous!”

Marinette pulled Felix closer, preparing for the worst. If she was to truly die during this battle, at least his face would be the last thing she sees.

Chat Blanc, who had walked fully into the light at this point, stopped a few feet from Gabriel. His eyes bore into the man, blank and soulless.

Marinette’s hand dug into Felix’s, and they exchanged glances. Something wasn’t right. Before the fall, Adrien had been showing the most conflict and emotion she’d ever seen in her life, but now he looked.. He looked empty, hollow.. gone.

Slowly, Chat Blanc raised his hand again, this time aiming his blast right at Gabriel. “I have no father.”

A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine, and Felix sucked in a breath next to her. Whoever stood in front of them now, it wasn’t Adrien.

Gabriel staggered back a step, pure terror in his voice as he stuttered, “W-What?”

Chat Blanc stepped forward, the ball of light growing in his hand.

“Don’t worry.” He remarked, his tone completely devoid of emotion. “After all, ‘Pain is only temporary’.. Right?”

The ball of light shot from his fingertips, hitting Gabriel directly in the chest. Gabriel opened his mouth to scream, but the decay swallowed him whole before his voice could even reach the air. Marinette gasped, watching Gabriel’s ashes fall to the floor. Did that really just happen?

Chat Blanc stared at the pile of dust, not an ounce of regret on his face. Marinette noticed that there wasn’t any satisfaction in his expression either.

He looked up, locking eyes with her, and Marinette tensed. Felix leaned forward enough to put a protective arm in front of her. Chat Blanc, noticing the shift, glanced at Felix as well. Then he started to move towards them, his steps slow and dragged out.

“Easy, there..” Felix muttered, bringing his yo-yo forward.

Marinette held her breath. If he could kill Gabriel- gosh, he killed him! -then he could get rid of them just as easily.

Chat Blanc stopped in front of them, his eyes still focused on Marinette. She met his gaze, not daring to look away.

If you’re anywhere in there, Adrien, please..

Suddenly, Chat Blanc dropped to his knees, rattling the metal walkway. Marinette flinched, but didn’t back away. In fact, she found herself reaching forward. He looked so broken, so lost..

“Please..” He croaked, a single tear streaming down his cheek. “Save me.”

Marinette’s heart shattered at the words, and she brushed his tear away. “Of course, kitty.”

She looked to Felix, who nodded and stood up. He quickly called his lucky charm, and on queue, Marinette broke the bell around Adrien’s neck. The akuma fluttered out, and Felix slung his yo-yo forward to capture it.

“Oh, wait one second.” Marinette spoke up, grabbing his arm before he could throw the miraculous cure.

Felix gave her a questioning look, and she gestured to the pile of ash behind her.

“I have to get something.”

With a quickness, for Chat’s sake, Marinette hopped over to Gabriel’s- er -remains and knelt down next to them. She cringed as she reached forward, pushing through the uneasiness to move the ash around. It had to be there somewhere..

“Ah- hah!” She sat up, taking the butterfly miraculous with her. Master Fu had mentioned a while back that the miraculous were indestructible, and Marinette didn’t want Gabriel to keep his powers when he was resurrected. That would be like falling into a torturous loop of fighting, especially since Chat won’t remember anything when the cure is cast.

“Okay.” She said, jumping back over to Felix with the miraculous in hand. “Do it.”

Felix nodded and threw the lucky charm into the air. Marinette closed her eyes as the Ladybugs washed over her, allowing a small smile to spread across her lips. She’d always wondered what it would be like to be on the other side of this.

“Don’t worry.” She whispered to Chat Blanc, running her hands through his snow white hair during their last moments together. “I promise you’re gonna be okay.”

We all are.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @starlit-winter @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asianfrustration13 @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @make-the-stars-stay @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace @the-navistar-carol @sannsibarr @grumpy-vixen-kitten @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @utcaro @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @tori-mmm @fifaanayd @novicevoice @dreamykitty25 @mischief-not-managed-posts @amayakans @arsaem @athena452 @pink-and-bunny @wannajointhecrabcult @theymakeupfairies

#Felinette #Le Paon AU #Marinette #Felix Agreste #Crossing a Line

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