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masiethewriter · 1 month

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Honored Eternal Path of Demise CH. 11 - Expected Betrayal

“There is nothing that can help us!” Luo Binghe suddenly roars, loud enough that Shen Qingqiu can’t help but take a step back. “We are stuck here with no way out and no matter what I do you keep acting like-” “Acting like what?!” Shen Qingqiu harshly interrupts. Finally Luo Binghe turns back around, ready to unleash his anger on a fighting target. “Like I am nothing but a beast that you wouldn’t rather see beaten to the ground than-” He suddenly stops. Looking right at Shen Qingqiu, his voice cuts off as his eyes widen. Shen Qingqiu takes that as the warning that it is.

First Chapter ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ AO3 Link

Loose rock crunch underneath their shoes. The rain has lightened to a drizzle, with the clouds beginning to part. Not too long from now they will clear a path for the moonlight to shine through. Shen Qingqiu expects himself to be back inside the mansion by then.

Far ahead of them, they can see the first signs of the gate. They are nearing a part of the game that Shen Qingqiu only remembers too well.

It could have been interesting for him to experience this part of the game which is usually reserved for Ning Yingying. When first playing the game, the tutorial had seemed like a promising start of something great. Teaching the player the obvious game mechanics as well as foreshadowing a few others.

How to crouch and pick up items is knowledge required for the player to progress. Having to find a hidden way underneath the fallen tree and the labyrinth of bushes are more discreet as lessons go. Investigation is key even when seemingly at a dead end. Walking into the dark always carries a risk that could be deadly. It is these lessons taught by the game that Shen Qingqiu has been following from the beginning.

And soon they will reach the next lecture where the most dangerous game mechanic of all will be introduced - The chase.

Shen Qingqiu does his best to postpone this for as long as he can. If Luo Binghe is a transmigrator, this is the perfect time to lure him into the hands of the Killer. His suspicion that this is a trap only grows as they get closer, so he needs to be prepared. The more time he has to do that, the better.

Shen Qingqiu is also uncertain how it will all play out. Back when playing the game, once he reached the corpse, the rest of this section would play out in a cutscene.

If he remembers correctly, the sequence of events will be as follows: after being horrified by their dead classmate, Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying will get attacked by the Killer. Somehow they will become split up, with Luo Binghe urging for Ning Yingying to run. The only way for her to go will be back towards the mansion. Using the flashlight, she will guide herself back through the maze. Right afterwards it will break down. Before she can act, the Killer will appear and in her shock she will drop the flashlight and run. It is first when she is past the fallen tree that the cutscene will end and the player has to guide her inside and to the safe room.

The rest of her story, Shen Qingqiu is quite familiar with by now.

How cutscenes are going to work when made into reality, he doesn't know. His assumption would be that they... don't. That the triggers will still be there, but that he can act them out as he wants.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu would not like any force taking over and controlling his actions. He has not had any limits to his free will since waking up in this game and he prefers to keep it that way. But he can't help the apprehension he feels at having to play out the cutscene himself. It is up to his own skills to survive this meeting with the Killer.

Also, with Luo Binghe being an unpredictable complication, his calculations are not in his favor. But that does not mean the math has no other solution. He will just have to find another way to add up the numbers.

Luo Binghe is only a few steps behind him. Upon seeing the gate, he had reacted appropriately positively and tried to hurry them up. Shen Qingqiu had to act extra stubborn and point out the danger they might be in not to have him run ahead. Even now, Shen Qingqiu can still feel his restless energy and has to force the both of them to keep a steady pace.

If Luo Binghe is truly playing another game, he is playing it well.

As they near the gate, Shen Qingqiu can't help the swe he feels as it towers above them. It is made of dark iron, only visible in the darkness thanks to two lights melted into it. The metal is thick and smooth, formed in a way so it is impossible to climb. Neither is there any way to squeeze through the bars. The gate functions as a perfect barrier between them and the outside world.

And lying against this locked cage of theirs is the dead body of someone who was once the classmate of Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying.

It is still not recognizable for what it is. From their current distance it rather looks like an oddly shaped rock or strange shadow. Luo Binghe has certainly not realized what it is yet.

"That must be the way out!" he exclaims and this time Shen Qingqiu can not stop him as he runs past him. "Come on Senior, let's hurry up!"

Shen Qingqiu does not hurry up. In fact, as the lights on the gate begin to reveal the colors and features of the strange shape, he finds himself slowing down.

There are many interesting views a person like Shen Qingqiu can look admire if he so chooses.

He can stare up at the unbelievable height of the gate and marvel at the sheer power it seems to emit as clouds glide by behind it.

He can look into the black void off the road, through the deep darkness in which the weakest light of a lamp post far away shines through.

He can look back the way they came, smaller bushes along the road harmless versions of the poisonous kind they passed not too long ago.

Many directions for Shen Qingqiu to look at. Each and everyone is preferable to that of a dead body.

After the last session he has seen enough of other people's corpses.

He can hear the moment Luo Binghe realizes what lies by the gate. A loud gasp of horror. As Shen Qingqiu looks towards him, he sees an expression of pure shock and terror.

Luo Binghe is covering his mouth with both hands, backing up towards Shen Qingqiu. Never takes his eyes off his deceased classmate. His breathing has quickened and a tremor runs through his entire body.

As Shen Qingqiu looks over at the body, he can't help but feel... not as affected.

Oh, it is horrific, don't get him wrong. His throat tightens up and he has to take deep breaths as his body shakes from something other than the cold. But the sheer heartache he felt as he saw Ning Yingying was so much more devastating than... than this person he doesn't know at all.

He knows from the others perspective, this used to be a human being. But he himself never got to know them as such. In the game, this corpse functioned as nothing more than a trigger for a cutscene. Forgotten as soon as it was out of frame. No personality, no backstory, no relationship to any of the characters besides their classmate status.

Slumped against the wall, huge gash in their chest and intestines spilling out, it is more the grotesque gore that is making Shen Qingqiu nauseous than anything else. Because... Because this is not a real person. Because no matter how many resets, in every single one of them, this person will be dead before the game has even started.

Essentially, they are mechanically no different from that of a piece of furniture.

"Senior Shen, this is..." Luo Binghe begins before he hesitates. Looking between Shen Qingqiu and his dead classmate, he swallows thickly as he continues, voice deeply serious. "We are not alone here, after all."

"We are not," is Shen Qingqius dark answer.

"What should we do? If we leave- If we just leave Ning Yingying might be in danger!" Luo Binghe worries and moves as if he is about to turn around and run back to her. Only Shen Qingqius hand on his arm keeps him still.

"She is in no greater danger than when we left her. Also look closer. The blood is fresh."

Shen Qingqiu does not need to explain what he means. Immediately Luo Binghes guard is up, looking in every direction. So far it is just the two of them. Still, the rustling from the trees and howling of the wind suddenly fill them both with much more dread. Shen Qingqiu because he knows what is about to happen. Luo Binghe possible the same.

Shen Qingqiu does not want to get near the corpse, but there is a sick piercing curiosity that moves him forward. Slowly he moves closer, kneeling by the body to study it. His only excuse for his actions is that Ning Yingying would have done the same if she was here, though for more sympathetic reasons.

The boy is around their age. His face youthful and pale, lips tinged blue. He wears the same school uniform as the rest of them, a badge on his chest confirming him to be a junior like Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying. Ignoring the cause of his death, there are no other signs of a struggle. He likely got killed right here by the gate, unable to do anything but fall over and die.

The slash on his chest starts at the hip and reaches across to his armpit. Blood still spills out in a steady flow, mixing with the rain and mud. The wound has split deeply enough that chunks of meat and intestines have fallen out, still releasing heat as they lay in a pile in his lap. Covering his mouth and nose, Shen Qingqiu has to swallow a couple of times in order not to empty his stomach.

This is undoubtedly the third most disgusting thing he has ever seen in his life. Ning Yingying’s corpse and the horrible bathroom taking first and second place.

"-must have been surprised when it happened," Luo Binghes voice suddenly interrupts his musings. "But this means we have no idea if there are others who have been kidnapped like us. Hopefully no one else has been hurt."

Wait, what did he say? Shen Qingqiu missed the beginning, was he talking about his classmate here? Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't actually remember their name... He's certain Ning Yingying has mentioned it more than once before, but he can't for the life of him recall what it is. The original goods would definitely have known, so that is kind of embarrassing actually...

"The faster we leave, the faster we can get help," Shen Qingqiu answers while making a mental note to better listen next time this guy gets named.

Luo Binghe simply agrees. He no longer looks as terrified, dark determination instead taking its place.

He turns away and marches to the gate. Standing beside it, his smaller frame compared to its great height make him appear almost insignificant. Like he is just a small matter to easily withstand as it continues its purpose in life. A purpose that is in perfect conflict with what they are trying to achieve.

Luo Binghe reaches out towards the gate handle. Every muscle in his body is taught. Hesitation keeps his movement slow.

As he finally grasps it, a tremor curses through his entire body. It is as if he has been hit by lightning and just barely manages to keep his hold. He lets out a painful breath, eyes big as he looks out at their freedom. Then he grits his teeth and pushes.

The gate does not move. Even against Luo Binghes strength, it is an immovable force. Made in such a way as to give them a hope that will never come to be.

Luo Binghes reaction is understandable. After having seen the actual danger that they are in, the need for getting out has become desperation. First he tries to pull, as if he just got the direction wrong. Then he puts more force into it, the strain of his muscles visible through his drenched sleeve.

"Let us out!" he growls as he puts both hands on the handle. His movement can no longer be considered push or pull, but pure violence as he tries to force it to move by his hands.

The gate stands still. It does not rattle for even a bit. Shen Qingqiu simply looks on, knowing that they will never get out. He does not try to stop Luo Binghe. He simply observes him as the rage of the other grows.

This does not appear to be the actions of a fellow transmigrator luring him into a trap. This appears as the expected behavior of a scared young man finding himself caught in a horrifying situation. Fear and anger blinding him, keeping him from giving up in a fight he has already lost.

Seeing Luo Binghe like this, Shen Qingqiu can only feel pity. Because in the end, he knows exactly how he feels.

"God dammit!" Luo Binghe curses as he releases the gate with a final kick. Hands yanking at his hair, he steps away, taking in huge gulps of air. Seeing him so vulnerable to his own anger, Shen Qingqiu decides to finally interfere.

"We should get back to Ning Yingying," is all he says. Standing back up, he does not bother trying to wipe off the mud on his pants.

It is as if Luo Binghe suddenly remembers he is not alone. His movement freezes, though he does not turn around to face Shen Qingqiu. Instead he hunches his shoulders, fists clenched tights enough that his knuckles turn white.

"And what are we going to do? We are stuck here." Luo Binghe hisses.

"Which is why I suggested not relying on only one solution to our predicament. Now we know this was a waste of time and can act accordingly."

"What are you even-!? How can you act like this? Are you not at all affected?"

Not liking the disgust in Luo Binghes voice, Shen Qingqiu can't help but defend himself.

"Of course I am affected. But staying here is not going to help Ning Yingying and it is certainly not going to help us."

“Acting like what?!” Shen Qingqiu harshly interrupts.

Finally Luo Binghe turns back around, ready to unleash his anger on a fighting target. “Like I am nothing but a beast that you wouldn’t rather see beaten to the ground than-”

He suddenly stops. Looking right at Shen Qingqiu, his voice cuts off as his eyes widen.

Shen Qingqiu takes that as the warning that it is.

"Senior Shen!" Luo Binghe calls out, but he is already ducking down. The gust of heavy metal slashes right where his head was a second ago, tearing at his hair. He throws himself away, sliding in the mud as he turns his back to Luo Binghe. Turns around so he can face the Killer.

By now he is more intimate with that devilish grin and the cold edges of the axe than he has been with anything else. It's a simple weapon, but through many, many sessions, he has been shown many, many different ways that it can take a life. Especially his life.

And while he hasn't gotten to see behind the mask since that one time, he honestly considers that a blessing. He found that he prefers the constructed grimace above the real face any time.

His many confrontations with the Killer has left him more skilled in the art of avoiding the deadly weapon. So as it swings down, he is already back on his feet, stepping out of its reach. Not even a second can be spared to check up on Binghe.

The earth is slippery with mud, even on the rocky road. Soundlessly the Killer charges forward. Shen Qingqiu jumps to the side, but is unable to keep his balance. As he falls, he feels the sharp edges of rocks cut into his palms.

Luo Binghe is behind him and for a second Shen Qingqiu worries that he will get caught instead. But looking back, Luo Binghe is just as capable at evading the Killer.

In fact, as the Killer slashes at him, he manages to lead him back towards the gate. A particularly brutal swing of the axe aims for Luo Binghes head, but he ducks just in time for it to hit the dark iron instead. A dull clang rings out and for a second it appears as if the force is enough to shake the Killers hold loose.

They are not that lucky. Shen Qingqiu is back on his feet, but Luo Binghe is stuck with the Killer between him and the road. Realising this, his eyes meet Shen Qingqiu's. He calls out only one word:

"Run!"

Shen Qingqiu turns. The command rings in his mind like white noise. Every instinct in his body screaming at him to get away. Pure survival takes over as he begins to run.

Running back the way they came. Running back towards the mansion. Running back to where he is meant to be.

He only manages a few steps. He stumbles as he is hit with sudden realisation.

Luo Binghe is staying behind. Luo Binghe is trying to distract the Killer. Luo Binghe is risking himself to allow Shen Qingqiu to escape.

This can not be a trap.

In fact, this is the exact same course of action that would have happened if Ning Yingying had been here. The same panic at the Killer's appearance. The same forced parting as the Killer stands in the way. The same sacrifice for the survival of another.

With this realisation, Shen Qingqiu can no longer deny the lack of proof that Luo Binghe is also a transmigrator. The only exception has been his invitation for Shen Qingqiu to join him. With anything else, he has behaved exactly as Luo Binghe the NPC would.

Shen Qingqiu hesitates. He was so certain Luo Binghe was trying to lure him to his death. But when looking back, he can find no reason for it. He made the choice that Luo Binghe must have malicious intentions, with no actual reason to back up this belief.

And now, this innocent boy is staying behind just so he has a chance to run away.

Shen Qingqiu should run. Luo Binghe can't die. It is definitely better for him to be in the Killers focus. No matter how their fight turns out, he will manage to get back up and continue the game. There is no reason Shen Qingqiu should worry. He has already played through the entire game, reaching every route and ending, with Luo Binghe staying alive to the end in every single one.

Luo Binghe is the last character he should ever have to worry about.

But Luo Binghe can get hurt. He can still be beaten down and defeated. He is not immune to becoming damaged enough that the game can reasonably push him out of the narrative for a while.

There must be a reason for why he doesn’t return back to the mansion right after meeting the Killer.

He may be safe from death. But no matter the argument, one simple reason makes it all mean nothing.

While thinking of Luo Binghe fighting with the Killer, Shen Qingqiu can not get the image of Ning Yingying’s desecrated corpse out of his head.

He turns back around. He sees the broad back of the Killer as he corners Luo Binghe. He tightens his grasp on the only item he holds in his hands. Then he swings his arm back, putting all his strength into it as he throws the item at the Killer.

The flashlights sails through the air. With a harsh crunch it hits the Killer right in the back of his head. It splits into pieces as it falls to the ground.

The Killer stops. Slowly, he turns towards Shen Qingqiu. Even through the two small holes of the mask, he swears he can see the rage building.

It is first now he realises that he certainly does not prefer for the Killers' attention to be on him.

It is too late. The Killer only needs to take a few long steps for Shen Qingqiu to be back in his range. As the axe aims for him once again, Shen Qingqiu can only return to the same deadly dance, steps cruelly memorable by now.

Back and forth the axe swings. Shen Qingqiu continues to evade. One jump leaves him on his knees. Before the Killer can chop him up, he takes a handful of mud and throws it in his face.

For the first time ever, the Killer lets out a yell.

The sounds are not understandable as words. But they do not hide their madness. Shen Qingqiu freezes, a chill running down his spine.

He never imagined the Killer's voice to sound so light. so... childish?

He has no time to put more thought into this. He forces himself to move and with the Killer’s brief distraction he allows himself to look back towards Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe is gone.

Dread fills him as he looks back and forth. But Luo Binghe is nowhere to be found.

He has abandoned him.

Shen Qingqiu does not have time to curse him out. The Killer has wiped the mud off his mask. As they face each other, Shen Qingqiu knows there is nothing that will keep him from becoming prey once more.

He has nowhere to run. He has nowhere to hide. He is caught in a fight he is guaranteed to lose. He has sealed his fate and now this will be the shortest session Shen Qingqiu has experienced so far.

If only he had never agreed to follow Luo Binghe outside.

The force behind the axe has grown with the rage of the Killer. Each swing more deadly than the next. At the same time, Shen Qingqiu’s realisation has weakened his resolve. He is not able to dodge as quickly. He has lost his footing and is stumbling through every dodge.

Finally, he falls. Rain continues to fall upon him as he looks up. Once again the Killer towers above him. As the axe is lifted high above his head, Shen Qingqiu finds the movement to be almost elegant. It is a second too late he realises he needs to move out of the way as the axe falls.

The axe is just as old. As rusty. Just as badly maintained. Dull and blunt. So it is more the force that splits Shen Qingqiu’s foot apart than its sharp edge.

Shen Qingqiu just barely manages to avoid having his head carved in. but it comes with a price. He is not able to get away in time. The burning pain that rushes through as his leg is cut open is unimaginable. His answering scream just as horrific.

His eyes are blurry with tears as he gasps for breath.

He can't breathe, he can't breathe.

The agony is too great, too ravenous, as it devours him through his leg, eating him whole.

Is his foot even still connected to the rest of him!?

An answer is given as the axe gets wrenched out of muscle and tissue. A second scream leaves Shen Qingqiu, pitch in perfect symphony with the wail that comes from his nerve endings.

He is going to die. He is going to die again. that he knows.

But why? Why does he have to go through this suffering before it happens?

This time he has no chance of dodging the Killer. He can only lay and wait for the axe to finish its work. This time he can't even look up at the huge frame. He is only just barely able to keep his head from drowning in the mud. This time, as the shadows of a deadly tool being lifted high above cover him, he closes his eyes and turns away.

Just because it is inevitable, does not mean he has to face it.

The wind howls. The trees crackle. Rain pours ruthlessly down on them. Not even the light from the moon peeks through to provide mercy.

A scream. Light and harrowing.

Not Shen Qingqius. Someone else's.

He looks up. What he sees shocks him.

With a loud thump, the axe has been dropped. Instead, the Killer holds both hands against his mask in an attempt to protect it. With a howl he steps away.

Luo Binghe follows.

Using his jacket as protection, he holds a heavy branch. Leaves full of sharp edges and thorns along its sides. Once more he swings it at the Killer, right as his face. Unable to see, the Killer is incapable of avoiding it. This time, the branch gets stuck between his arms and face. He shrieks as he tries to shake it off.

Luo Binghe takes this as their chance and lets go.

He does not run away. Instead, he goes straight for Shen Qingqiu. Using his strength, he pulls him up before he can even protest. But as his feet reach the ground, he is unable to hold in a cry of pain. Luo Binghe quickly reacts and looks down to see his stump of a foot.

Shen Qingqiu can't walk. But for whatever reason, this does not cause Luo Binghe to abandon him.

Instead he throws his arm over his shoulder. Standing together, he keeps them balanced. And as quickly as they can, they run away into the darkness, followed only by the anguish screams of the Killer.

#SVSSS #BingQiu #BingYuan #Luo Binghe #Shen Yuan #Shen Qingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain self saving system #scumvillain #mxtx #Am finally just adding the AO3 links because I keep forgetting to reblog with them

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damonjuicyscock · 4 months

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Playlist- Chapter 16: More Than A Woman (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff and some smut.

Words: 2240

Summary: June 1997, Las Vegas. Noel and Y/N finally get married.

A/N: Heya Y'all, I AM BACK ! Thank you for all your kind messages, I really appreciate it ! I feel much better now, and my little neck has healed. Here's chapter 16, I hope you'll like it, as per usual. See you next week for the next chapter. Then the chapter after it will be the epilogue. After finishing the fanfic, I'll start working on all your requests, and I have some. Some Damon juicy stuff (yes he will be back, I promised !) I also started brainstorming a bit on the Ville fanfic, but it'll come later in the year.

Take care of yourselves, lovies !

ENJOY !

(The man's here to serve cunt.)

"Oh, girl, I've known you very well I've seen you growing every day I never really looked before But now you take my breath away Suddenly you're in my life Part of everything I do You got me working day and night Just trying to keep a hold on you Here in your arms, I found my paradise My only chance for happiness And if I lose you now, I think I would die Oh, say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine We can take forever, just a minute at a time More than a woman More than a woman to me More than a woman More than a woman to me"

June 5th 1997- Las Vegas:

After Oasis finished recording “Be Here Now”, Noel and I took some time for us. He took me on a trip to Ibiza, then we went back to town to see our families. Life slowly resumed its course, our spirits and my body healing. We stopped talking about having children for the time being. I just couldn't. I just couldn't. It was like a block. Because I knew I couldn't survive another loss like this one. My heart was still too fragile. And I knew Noel couldn’t too. Another loss like the one we had experienced would lead us to our own.

We were thinking about our wedding. We didn’t have a date yet. We were enjoying life as it was coming.

And in June 1997, we ended up having a trip to Las Vegas with some friends. Kate was present. And she made a suggestion that wasn’t bad but made us end up in a stressful situation.

It would be fun to see you both get married by Elvis.

I laughed.

Really, Elvis? Is it even considered as a real wedding?

It is ! That’s what funny about that.

I looked at Noel, he already was looking at me. I understood in his look that he was hyped by the idea of it. Then I looked back at Kate and started panicking.

Oh no no no no no no. I didn’t even buy my wedding dress! What are you both suggesting me to do here? Noel… did you tell Kate to talk to me about it?

He raised his hands up in the air innocently.

I didn’t ! I can’t deny the idea crossed me skull, but I wasn’t counting on it. He answered

Noel ! I have absolutely nothing with me, it's out of the question.

He lowered his head sadly. The thing was, it worked every time. I couldn't resist his puppy dog look.

Okay, okay… We’ll see later.

And I thought about it and gave up. I growled, before panicking again.

What the fuck are you two getting me into? All right, fine, we'll get married in Vegas. But where am I going to find a dress? I have absolutely nothing to wear!

Kate smiled.

I guess we found the right occasion to go shopping in Vegas darling.

I growled again.

For fuck’s sake… alright. Okay, but let’s find an address and I want to set my conditions.

Noel smiled widely.

Anything ye want.

We'll agree on an exact time and an exact place. You won't see my dress before the ceremony, I'll need time to choose it, I'll need time to do my hair and make-up. We're getting married, but I don't want a botched ceremony. Understood ? And where are we going to find witnesses?

Huh, hello, I’m here ? Kate answered

You of course Kate, but Noel ?

I’ll find.

Fucking hell, that’s unbelievable.

Yes it is, and while you keep saying this, your wedding dress keeps waiting for you. Kate adds

Noel smiled.

Go, I don’t want to see ye both until tonight 11, to this chapel. He answered, showing a chapel a few steps from us

Kate and I started walking, but Noel stopped us.

Oh and Y/N ?

What ? I said, turning back

I’m sure ye’ll be stunning no matter what. He answered smiling at me

I rolled my eyes at him before turning and blushing.

He’s so damn cheesy but cute ! I whispered to Kate, who started laughing

- Oh Y/N, look at this one ! Kate said

- Holy… Eww, are you trying to disguise me or summat? I'm not a cowgirl! It may be the American way, but it's definitely not mine!

Kate rolled her eyes.

Then what do you expect to be ? A princess ?

That’s… even worse. I just want something that looks a bit like… Oh ! This one looks good ! I answered, finally finding a dress

I took the dress and looked at it closely.

Doesn’t look bad yeah. It’s… simple. Kate answered, looking at it as well

It as of course a white dress, looking like a nightgown even though it wasn’t. Something simple and comfortable. With it, I picked a flower crown, full of white flowers. Last stop was a florist, where I bought a bouquet of white roses. Kate did the makeup, and at the moment I started taking care of my hair, I heard someone knock at the hotel room’s door. I opened it and was surprised by…

Peggy ?

Hello me sweet Y/N !

I hugged her.

Oh my God, what are you doing here ?

Well I heard you were getting married so I came.

But how… Oh. I see. Noel had been planning for a long time, hasn’t he ?

He has. I’m sorry he didn’t tell ye. He wanted to surprise ye.

Well he kept it a secret.

Someone knocked at the door again. I opened it and I immediately started to cry.

M-M-Mam ?

Hello my girl.

I hugged her, without letting go.

So he told you too ?

Yes, and he told your dad too.

Dad is here ?

Yes. He’s waiting with Noel at the chapel. He’s gonna be his “ bestman”. I wouldn’t miss my little girl’s wedding in any case.

And now you’ll have to redo my makeup… I said, chuckling

My mother smiled.

Oh I wouldn’t miss that. And I wouldn't miss the chance to curl your hair one last time before someone else does it for me. My little girl. My mother answered, tears in her eyes

That’s how my future mother-in-law and my own mother redid my makeup and curled my hair. I couldn’t believe Noel had been planning this behind my back. And so did Kate, because there was no doubt that she was in on it.

Mam, did you… feel I was going to marry Noel one day ?

Peggy and my mother looked at each other.

At the moment he entered your life, I knew it was him sweetheart.

And so did I. Peggy answered

You both say that as if we were meant to be.

But you were. You definitely were. Even when you broke up, I knew you would get back together. You can’t break this bond soulmates have.

At 11pm, Kate, Peggy, my mum and I were in front of the chapel.

Are you ready ? Kate asked

Since November 1983.

Are you sure you want to do it ? She pursued

Oh really now ?

Kate smiled

Just joking. Let’s go.

We entered the chapel. Noel was dressed normally, from behind, my father next to him, from the front, smiling at me. He came to me and walked me down the aisle.

You look beautiful darling.

Thank you dad.

And now’s the time I give your hand to someone else. I’m so proud of you and of what you’ve become.

Stop, I’m going to cry again.

In every case, you will. Don’t you think I cried during my wedding to your mother ? Everyone sees me as the hard guy, but just like Noel, I’m a marshmallow inside.

I chuckled.

I wouldn't have suspected it for a second.

We arrived near Noel, and he looked at me, his eyes sparkling. My dad gave my hand to Noel, and I took it, intertwining my fingers with his.

Ye’re the beautifulest missus I’ve ever seen. He said, smiling widerly

And I hate you.

Oh really ? Well, you've made that clear. That’s even why you’re in front of Elvis, here, today.

I hate being trapped.

Ye liar. Ye love surprises, I know it.

I chuckled.

You’re right, I love them. But it has been pretty stressful though.

Ye would have been more stressed in London.

And that’s true too.

The Elvis priest started his speech, and then we took our vows. I improvised mine, as I hadn't had time to prepare them. But that made it all the more moving, didn't it? Then came Noel’s vows.

Okay, hum… Oh, girl, I've known you very well, I've seen you growing every day, I never really looked before, But now you take my breath away…

My mouth was agape.

Are you actually quoting the Bee Gees ? I said, laughing

Shh, shut up. So I was saying…

I burst out of laughter. His vows were lyrics from More Than a Woman. Actually, it was cute. And original. I loved it.

To nobody’s surprise, we both said yes to each other, Elvis singing “Love me Tender” while we were kissing. We took some pictures, alone and with our families before ending up in a limo driving us to the Airport, knowing Noel had a gig in New York the day after.

At the second I closed the Limousine’s door and sat beside my now husband, he latched his lips on mine.

I love ye… He said, pulling away

And so do I, mister Gallagher. But I still hate you.

But you married me, mrs Gallagher.

I couldn’t believe my ears. I was Y/N Gallagher.

why wasn't Liam there?

He couldn’t, soz.

It's true that I would have liked him and another of my witnesses to be there. But I have to admit that... it was the most beautiful and thrilling surprise you've ever given me.

Noel kissed me again, slowly at first. But it quickly turned into a passionate kiss. His hands began to explore my body, settling on my hips and tapping them. I knew what he wanted, and I was about to give him.

I pulled my dress up to my thighs and hovered him, kissing him again, our tongues dancing together in a sensual and passionate kiss.

I want ye… He said

Oh yeah ? Right here ?

No one will know…

So I unbuttoned his trousers, and opened his boxers, and started grinding on his hardness, while grabbing his lips again with mine. Noel slipped his hand under my dress, finding my wetness and realising at the same time that I wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Mrs Gallagher… ye’re driving me mad…

Mad ? Or mad fer it ?

Both…

He started kissing me again, Teasing my entrance with his length and plunged into me.

We both moaned in unison. Noel let me get adjusted to his size, whimpering.

Fuck… I love ye Y/N.

My response was a smile and a caress on his cheek.

I started rolling my hips against his, feeling him deeper in me.

Noel gripped my hips, looking at me with love and lust in his eyes. This same look I was used to. This look I always saw when we were making love. It’s like he was admiring me, as if I was his eighth wonder.

As I kept moving, I brought our climaxes closer.

And if you asked me, I would never have thought that one day I was going to make love with Noel in a limo.

Fuck Y/N…

Oh God, I love you too Noel…

He bit his lower lip, his face contorsionning with pleasure.

Come on me love… You can let it all go…

And that was what was needed to me to be thrown over the edge. I was a trembling mess, head thrown back in pleasure as I came undone, his name on my lips. He followed shortly after, my name on his.

We just kept like this, kissing and hugging until we arrived at the airport.

Let a new adventure begin, Mrs Gallagher.

Yeah. Let a new adventure begin…

Are ye okay ?

Yeah, I was just thinking about your vows. You literally quoted the Bee Gees. I loved it.

I did because the lyrics mean a lot to me. They really describe what I feel fer ye. What ye mean to me. I know how to write a love song, but the lyrics are beyond what I can do. You are more than a woman to me. You are strong, a warrior, my sarcastic little shit, my lover, and the love of my life. I can’t see meself living without ye.

I smiled widely and kissed him.

There, these are vows.

#britpop #oasis #liam and noel #oasis band #noel gallagher fluff #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher smut #noel gallagher fanfic #noel gallagher #noel gallagher oneshot #Spotify

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years

Text

Ghosts

Summary: A phone call from a stranger with news about a man from a life you had left behind a long time ago, brings back many memories, making you travel from France to New York City for one last time. Only for a promise made twenty years ago to wait for you once you are back home.

Pairing: John Wick x fem. reader

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: !! spoilers for John Wick Chapter 4 !! do not read this if you don't want to be spoiled for the movie (this is an attempt on a fix it fic lmao), guns, death, angst, fluff

A/N: yeah I know it's been 84 years but here I am with my silly little John Wick fic, trying to make sense of the movie I watched two days ago. Summary is a lil vague cause spoilers

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for new fic updates

You jumped awake, uncertain what it was that woke you up.

Groaning your eyes found the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table, showing you that it was just after 3 am. Was it a nightmare? You had those, even though not as frequently as before. Out of instinct you reached under your bed, finding the familiar shape of your gun still in place.

You hadn’t actually used a gun in almost twenty years, yet knowing it was there gave you a sense of safety, your mind wandering to the last time you had used it.

The night you died.

The night you left your old life.

The night he killed you.

Your life had been planned out for you before you even took your first breath. You were the future head of the Ruska Roma, your fathers pride and joy.

You never had a choice in that matter.

You learned hundreds of ways to kill a person, had material art lessons daily followed by lessons learning every single detail about the high table and your family's enemies, making you a killing machine before you even turned thirteen years old.

It was on your thirteenth birthday that you met John Wick for the first time.

He was older than you, at least ten years, but there was something in his eyes that seemed familiar to you. It was the same look you saw every day when you looked into the mirror. Sadness, Anger, Emptiness.

He spent a year working exclusively for your father, doing his dirty work, before he disappeared like a ghost into the night.

Almost twelve years would pass before you and John would meet again.

He became a friend, if you had friends in the world you had been born into. Maybe even your only friend. And so much more. He trained you, his reputation proceeding him, his name only whispered in the underground as if he would appear out of thin air if you dared to speak out his name.

Spending time with John became an escape to the ever lingering pressure all around you, your personal challenge becoming to make him crack the facade he put on, for just a tiny glimpse at the man behind the myth.

It was when your father announced your engagement to another future member of the high table, catching you totally off guard, that gave you finally the strength to plan your way out.

You knew survival was almost impossible.

So you had to die.

And who better to help you make your death believable than the boogeyman himself?

Shaking your head out of the memory of John, blinking away the many pictures of his soft smile as you woke up in his arms day after day before you disappeared you sighed.

It had been almost twenty years since you last saw him, since he promised once he got out for good he would find you, but sometimes you still found yourself thinking about him. He had been your best friend and so much more. The first man you kissed, the first man you slept with.

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it, your eyes frowning at the foreign number.

“Hello?” you said.

A sigh was heard on the other end of the line.

“This is… My name is Winston and I am calling for Jonathan Wick….”

Getting to New York undetected must have been the single most anxious task of your life. You hadn’t been back here since you kissed your former life goodbye.

But it was John.

And Winston, who you learned was the Manager of the New York Continental Hotel, assured you that your safety would be assured if you chose to travel to John’s funeral.

“John and I may have had our issues, but he made me promise to keep an eye on you if anything would ever happen to him,” he had told you.

It was from him that you learned that even though you hadn’t talked or seen John since that night, John had very much kept up with you and your life. To make sure you were always safe.

You learned that he got out too before because he fell in love, got married to the woman he loved before she died from a long illness, the aftermath of that sucking him back into the underworld where he fought for his freedom before he eventually found it and died on the steps of the Sacré-Cœur in Paris.

Only two hours away from the small town you had called home for the last couple of years.

You weren’t prepared how much the news of his death would hurt.

While learning that he got out for another woman hurt when you first learned about it, in the end you were happy he got to experience love and life apart from the underworld.

Sure, he could have died without you knowing it since you lost contact. But knowing that he still cared about you even after all these years, made you so fucking sad and happy at the same time.

Winston and someone who named himself the Bowery King (you did not ask any questions) had left you alone at the graveyard, a trusted security detail from Winston staying behind as you stood under the umbrella facing John Wick’s grave.

Loving husband it read beneath his name.

It brought a small smile to your lips.

When you were younger you always pictured him when you dreamed of getting married. But that was all it was.

A dream.

John Wick was the first man you loved, maybe the only man you really loved.

“I hope you found your peace, Jonathan,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over his gravestone, before you set down a single rose on his stone and on Helen’s. His wife’s.

You blinked away the tears.

“Thank you for keeping me safe,” you said with a sad smile on your lips before you slowly turned around and walked back to your car.

It was early morning when the car drove through the tiny town of La Mare just on the coast of France.

Was it totally insane taking a risky twenty four hour trip to New York City for a funeral of a man you hadn’t talked to in twenty years?

Yes.

But you would do it again.

You thanked the driver with a tired smile, watching him drive away as you searched for your keys in your purse.

You had stayed to have a drink with Winston and meet with a lawyer from whom you learned that John had put you in his last will, making you the sole heir to everything he owned in case his wife died before him.

After you had been driven back to the private airstrip where you took the private jet you had arrived with back to europe.

You just wanted to lay down and cry, the rollercoaster of feelings you had gone through since your phone call with Winston just two days ago still not really setting in.

You unlocked the door, letting your bag fall down in the hallway as you shut the door behind you, leaning with your back against the door, taking a deep breath.

This was so fucking silly.

Why were you so heartbroken about a man you had said goodbye to before?

You got out of your shoes, walking down the long hallway towards the kitchen half asleep. You blamed it on that you did not hear the noise until you were walking through the door, stopping in your tracks at the man currently fighting with your coffee maker.

Instinct set in and you silently walked to the table closest to you, intent on grabbing your gun when you found it gone.

“If you’re looking for your gun, it’s right here,” your head turned towards the man who had now turned around, his head nodding towards your big kitchen Island where your gun was laying.

Your eyes flew from him to the gun, before you looked at him again, your lips parting in a gasp.

“John?” you whispered in disbelief.

Slowly he walked towards you, limped really, before he came to a stop in front of you.

He was older, his dark hair longer than the last time you had seen him. He was wearing sweatpants and a white shirt and you could see the bandages beneath it from where he must be hurt.

“I told you I would find you once I got out for good,” he said carefully, but you just kept looking at him like he was a ghost. A ghost from your past.

“Hope you don’t mind, I let myself in.”

“I... I was at your funeral,” you whispered.

“I was at yours too,” he said.

“You got married,” you said. He nodded.

“But now you’re here.”

“But now I’m here.”

You took a step towards him, carefully reaching out, your hand coming to rest on his chest, just above his heart.

“It’s been a long time,” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other,” you said. He nodded.

“You wanna have breakfast and tell me all about it?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

#my fic #John Wick #John Wick x fem. reader #Keanu Reeves #John Wick Chapter 4 spoilers #spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 1 year

Text

I have not shared in a bit but I’ve finally got a lil’ something today. This is another snippet from something I was previously calling a secret project, but now that the prologue and first chapter of the series has been shared and my name is linked to the series, I can reveal that this is from my episode of Star Trek: Redemption, a birthday gift for the lovely @raenestee 🎉

Also going to take this opportunity to plug the intro @facewithoutheart has written. You do not have to be a Trek fan to read it, either. It’s an adventurous, fun and sweet ride, and the rest of the series promises to be amazing as well. Lots of wonderful people working on it and bringing some fantastic ideas to the plate.

Anywho! On to my excerpt. (With nothing redacted this time! )

“Traveling the universe isn’t as glamorous as the Starfleet pamphlets made it sound, is it?”

Baz exhales through his nose by way of an answer.

“No, it isn’t.”

“You know this trade agreement is important,” I say quietly.

He nods. He’s got his arms crossed tightly and he’s looking at his feet, his toes pushing pebbles along the path. He looks so young all of a sudden.

“I know.”

“And just because our first few encounters in this quadrant were disastrous, doesn’t automatically mean this one will be too.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yes, but don’t those other experiences mean we should be cautious?” He turns and looks at me finally. His look is defiant. Challenging. But I’m not here for a fight.

I keep my tone gentle and do my best to coax him with my words.

“Cautious, yes. And I think we are being so. But Baz, we can’t just close ourselves off from everyone just because there’s a possibility we may get hurt. We won’t survive that way.”

A small update on my progress, if you like reading about these things. I got a good bit done on this sucker in later April/Early May but ended up chopping a good 5k (nearly everything I wrote in the last 5 weeks) recently because it was a lot of slow moving and boring exposition that I’ve decided to just recap instead. This seems to be the story of my writing these days. :vibin:

But! This bit I am determined to save and rework somehow. Wish me luck!

Thank you to all the wonderful people tagging me lately. Tagging y’all back today and then some:

@fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @technetiumai @ebbpettier @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @rimeswithpurple @shrekgogurt @confused-bi-queer @forabeatofadrum @martsonmars @hushed-chorus @valeffelees @nightimedreamersworld @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @palimpsessed @theearlgreymage @nausikaaa @captain-aralias @larkral @thewholelemon @letraspal @mysterioussheep @whogaveyoupermission @sosoapi @johnwgrey And anyone else who sees this and wants to share 💛

#Star Trek: Redemption #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing #And lots of others too #And a prolonged Happy Birthday to Raen as we drag this thing out 🥰😂

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bonesandthebees · 10 months

Note

help, I am starting to lose myself in my glass ch28 brainrot note and I really want to finally put it together so I can shift into rose mode so im just gonna start putting my finished subsequents here

that being said dont expect any logical order whatsoever

1. wilbur vs the pythia + 2. others learning wilburs name

1. there was not a single slip into the pythia this is huge, didnt even get close to it and hes been so much more comfortable in his "wilbur", the progress just from before the palace is huge, like he told phil, it really did help him a lot to be able to move and and kill the pythia, leave it behind for good

and not just that, even his relationship with the title got better as a consequence of all this so when being called that while it did feel wrong it doesnt make him flinch, doesnt make him spiral or anything

its so satisfying to see it finally come to this, this is what the story has been going towards this whole time basically, or at least its the representation of wilbur finding himself which is the point of this story

2. I wonder if tommy felt a bit sad about wilbur telling his name to other people. bc it is losing a part of wilbur he only had for himself. and im sure that being happy for wilbur overweights it, but did he feel a sting of jealousy when he heard niki or tubbo use the name? I like to think he did, crimeboys unhealthy possesivity/dependence bond and all that. I like to think hes not perfect, even in his feelings about wilbur. feels fitting. and it shows that thoughts dont actually matter that much its how you act upon them/bc of them. nobody ever only thinks the right thing.

finally going to start working through your glass asks but don't expect any consistency with me answering these lol, I love hearing your thoughts though I promise!!

oh yeah I always knew from the start that I wanted the final chapter to be entirely 'wilbur' without slipping into 'the pythia' once. the pythia was left behind when the palace burned. wilbur is the one who survived. and now that he's finally accepted that he is a person, it's easier when he does get called the pythia because he knows that's not what he is anymore.

tommy was definitely a little bitter hearing others use wilbur's name. he's extremely possessive of wilbur's trust and liked being the only person who knew all these things about wilbur for the longest time. tommy's love for wilbur was never a proper healthy thing, and the dependency the two still have on each other is bound to cause problems in the future, but it works for them and tommy is able to put his jealousy aside for the time being because another part of him is still happy that wilbur has finally accepted his name and identity as his own

#ask #jiksvokrat #glass ch 28

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canirove · 2 years

Text

Bluebell | Chapter 5

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Good morning, Miss Daisy."

"Please don't call me that so early in the morning" I say, turning the other way and giving my back to Mason.

"I won't call you like that ever again. I promise" he says, kissing my shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. You?"

"I hadn't slept like this in ages."

"Probably because you hadn't worked the way you did last night in a long time" I say, turning again to face him.

"Are you talking about attending the pub and then cleaning it, or about what happened after?" he asks with a cheeky smile.

"Both. Ben was right about his feeling. And the tongue thing."

"I can do that again if you are in the mood for it" he says, pulling me closer to him.

"I am, but I also have a mountain of papers to go through. And Dixie probably is asking for his breakfast."

"He'll survive without it. Haven't you seen how fat he is?"

"Hey, that's my cat" I say, pinching Mason's butt.

"And that is my ass!" he replies, laughing. "But you've called Dixie your cat. Does that mean that you are staying?"

"He is my cat because I inherited him. And... Maybe."

"Maybe isn't an answer. I need numbers, a percentage."

"Ok, fine. It currently is 80% yes, 20% no."

"Interesting... Were you as convinced yesterday morning?"

"You and your ego just made it go down to a 79%."

"Damn it. I better go back to work" he says, moving to be on top of me and starting to kiss my neck.

"Still at 79."

"Ok" he says, moving his thumb over my nipple, making me gasp.

"79,5."

"I'll have to try something else, then" he says, his mouth going to my other nipple.

"Fucking hell" I gasp.

"That's not a number" he says before going back to what he was doing.

"80."

"And if I keep kissing you down..." he says, leaving kisses all over my stomach "do you think that 80 will go up?"

"You can try" I say, feeling my whole body tensing in anticipation.

"Still at 80?" he asks, stopping under my bellybutton.

"If you don’t keep going down, it’ll be the 80 the one that will."

"Yes, ma'am" he says before doing what I asked him to do, making me moan the moment I feel his tongue on me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Hello there."

"Oh my God!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" Rúben says.

"My heart is literally on my throat. What is it with you men in this town and scaring me?"

"It has happened before?"

"It has, yes. Thank God I didn't have my coffee on my hand yet."

"I'm sorry" he says again. "Long night?"

"Uh?"

"That is your coffee, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes. The past twelve hours have been... Intense."

"Too much work at Daisy's?"

"You know about it?" I say, finally looking at him. He's wearing another suit today, this one dark blue instead of black and with a matching tie. And he looks stupidly handsome, of course.

"I met with Mrs. Smart, asked her who you were, and she confessed. No wonder the other day you left the way you did."

"Yeah... Just thinking about my cousin screaming, makes my skin crawl. Sorry."

"It's ok, I've been there" he laughs. Even his laugh is attractive. How? "Anyway, I wanted to see you because your father kept some records of some buildings in town, and I need them."

"Is that why you are dressing so fancy today?” I ask him.

“Uh?”

“The suit and the tie” I say, looking at him from head to toe and back again. Why is he so hot?

“I had an early morning with other mayors from the area, that’s why I look this fancy” he says with a smirk “And that also is why I need those records.”

“Oh, ok. Do you know where to find them? Because his office is a bit of a mess right now."

"I do, don't worry. Shall we?"

"One minute, my cookie is missing" I say, calling for the girl who took my order.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I can't believe you just ate a cookie the size of your face" Rúben chuckles as we approach Daisy’s. "What have you been doing?"

"Oh, you know... Just..." Having really good sex with Mason, something I had forgotten how it felt. "Too many papers to take care of before I decide if I'm staying or not."

"You haven’t decided yet?"

"Almost." When I left Mason's, it was 90% yes, 10% no. That 10%, being my uncle and his possible vendetta.

"I would be very happy if you stayed. I mean, we. The town" Rúben says. "Daisy's is iconic, we couldn't live without it."

"My uncle wants it too. I'm sure he would do a great job" I say, trying to forget what he said. That he would be happy if I stayed. What did that mean?

"Yeah... That isn't his plan."

"What do you mean?"

"He..."

"Open the damned door!" a man shouts while hitting something. No, not something. Daisy's door. "I know you are there, open the door!"

"Who the hell is that?"

"That," Rúben says "is your uncle Joe."

"He is..."

"Rúben!" my uncle calls when he sees him. "Thank God you are here. That bitch isn't opening the door, but maybe since you are the Mayor you can force her to do it?"

"That bitch isn't opening the door because she is right here... Uncle" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and giving him one of my fakest smiles.

"You... You..." he says, looking at me from head to toe. "It's you. Of course it's you. You look exactly like her, though you have Josh's eyes. What are you doing with her?" he asks Rúben.

"We crossed paths on my way here. I need some records your brother kept.”

"You should not be talking to her. You know what her mother and her did to us. To Victoria."

"We did nothing."

"Yes, you did" he says, raising his voice again. "You stole what was mine! Ours!"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You and that whore you have for a mother..."

"Joe," Rúben says "watch your mouth."

"But it is the truth, Rúben, you know it! Her mother got pregnant just to get our money! But my parents were cleverer, and forced her to leave with nothing."

"She didn’t…”

"That's enough, Joe" Rúben says. "This is not the place or the moment to discuss these things. Go home."

"I'm not going anywhere until she gives me what is mine."

"I'm not talking to you as your daughter's boyfriend. I'm talking to you as your Mayor. Leave, or I'll call the police" Rúben says, suddenly looking twice bigger than he already is.

"Fine, I'll go" my uncle says after a very short staring contest with Rúben that he, of course, loses. "But this isn't over" he says, spitting in front of my feet.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"No wonder he and my father didn't get along. What a disgusting man" I say once he has left.

"He can be like that sometimes, yes."

"Thank you for defending me. Though I'm sure that now you'll find yourself in trouble with him and Victoria."

"If I'm completely honest," he says, letting out a big sigh "I don't care what they think. Let's go find those papers."

"Yes, sure" I say while opening the door, my brain repeating his words. Trouble in paradise?

#mason mount #ruben dias #mason mount fanfic #ruben dias fanfic #mason mount x reader #ruben dias x reader #mason mount imagine #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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animatorweirdo · 5 months

Text

Comforting Letters

You and Maglor find comfort in writing letters to each other.

Warnings: some mentions of the curse, brewing medicines, receiving and sending letters, Maglor is a bit of a worry wart, reader being happy, and fluff.

Chapter 17

------------------------------------------------------

You were comfortably seated on your bed, conversing with Melui and catching up with him on the latest events. You two were reading books he brought so you could pass the time since Nelle had prohibited you from leaving the healer's halls. She didn't want to risk you getting a heat stroke again, so she had ordered you to stay in your room, where it was cool and had easy access to water.

It wasn't too bad, and Melui was willing to read you the books that had an interesting plot yet were written in elvish. The language sounded lovely, so you asked him to teach you a few words, which he didn't mind.

You had explained most of your curse to him, which he promised to keep as a secret. You also told him the real reason how you came to Doriath and he was sympathetic, especially since you had a head injury that needed treatment before you could go home.

Nelle then returned to the healer’s halls with the ingredients you needed for the temporal medicine. You instructed her how to brew it and then it was finally finished. You felt glad and didn't hesitate to take it after surviving a whole day without it.

You take a sip, smacking your lips as you process the taste, then drink the whole vial when it tastes like the medicine you had taken before.

“Yes, this should be it,” you stated.

"So, this brew should hold back the curse now?” Nelle questioned.

“Yep. It's not as effective as my previous one, but it does the job,” you explained.

Melui then walked into the healer’s halls, holding what seemed to be a letter in his hands.

"I have a letter for you. Seems like your family sent you a reply," He said.

"Oh, gimme.." you said as he handed you the thick envelope. You felt the envelope with your hands and it felt like there were more than one letter inside. You opened the letter with your finger, then grabbed two letters and what seemed to be the recipe for the medicine.

You already guessed from Camilla’s handwriting that she wasn’t happy with you and skipped it, giving your attention to the other letter. You didn’t recognize it at first, but when you saw Maglor’s name at the bottom of the letter, you walked somewhere private and immediately started reading it.

Your eyes flew through the text, and you began to feel a little giddy when Maglor expressed how relieved he was to hear from you and wished your hosts were treating you well. He then asked questions about the severity of your injuries and you felt a bit guilty since you did not describe them much in your first letter. He sounded sincerely worried about your well-being.

“You look happy,” Nelle stated.

“I am…” you replied then glanced toward Melui. “Can I possibly send a reply?” you questioned.

“Of course, I go get you some paper and a quill. Would you like to have a stack of them just in case?” Melui asked.

“I think that might be a good idea,” you smiled.

Melui nodded and left the healer’s halls to fetch them.

You already began to think about what to write in your letter to Maglor. Maybe you should start by telling him about the state of your wounds and the treatment, to ease his worry and assure him that you were in good hands.

Within Himring’s corridors, Maglor was discussing with Rhaon until another elf approached them with a bag and a letter in hand.

“My lord, you have a letter,” the elf said and Maglor curiously grabbed the letter, allowing the elf to continue their work.

He opened the letter, then began to read it when he realized the letter was from you.

A relieved smile dressed his face when you wrote that you didn’t suffer any severe injuries other than a few vampire bites and a blow to the head that only gave you a mild headache. You also assured him that your secret was safe and he did not have to worry about the Sindar king finding out.

Maglor felt his mood light up that you were not in any severe state, but he still felt mistrustful toward the Sindar, especially their king.

“Looks like you received some good news in that letter,” Rhaon remarked.

“I did. Let’s get this task over with. I need to write an answer before noon,” Maglor said as he folded the letter into his pocket and continued walking through the corridor with Rhaon.

After the morning had passed and you received not-so-good sleep, you passed your time reading on your bed.

You took your eyes off your book when you saw Melui walk into your room.

“Good morning. I hope you rested well,” he greeted.

“Barely. I’m not very good at sleeping,” you answered then noticed he had a letter in his hands.

“Anyway, you have a letter. It arrived this morning,” Melui handed the letter to you.

You grabbed the letter. After opening it, you realize it was a reply from Maglor expressing how glad he was to receive a reply from you and other things.

You smiled wholeheartedly.

“Hey, Melui. I hope you do not mind helping me send my letters. I think I might be exchanging letters with my friend,” you said.

“Of course not. Just come see me once you’re done writing,” Melui replied. “You can find me in the library. That’s where I work these days,” he added.

“Alright,” you nodded.

“I need to get back. There is some stuff I need to get done today. Rest well,” Melui said then began leaving.

“Thanks,” you said as you already started writing your next letter to Maglor.

#tolkien #silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silm fic #middle earth #maglor #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #maglor x reader #maglor x human reader #cursed reader #modern reader #the spring heart's bloom #slow burn

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my-head-is-an-animal · 1 year

Text

The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 15 - Gala

Mycroft spent the better part of the week avoiding Lady Smallwood and getting heavily distracted with his thoughts on Bethany. She had said yes in that many words, but had asked for the real reason why he asked her to the gala, he told her what he felt he could and explained that the Prime Minister disliked Lady Smallwood’s attempt at flirting with him. He’d been practically ordered to bring a date, but made sure she understood that she was under no obligation to do anything she didn’t want to. He promised to make it as entertaining as he could for her, by way of apology for dragging her along.

When the night finally came, Mycroft had been informed that her car had been sent and she was running late because she needed to go over to John’s to look after Rosie before he got home. She had a free afternoon and Rosie didn’t have a sitter for a couple of hours, she couldn’t say no and Mycroft, though slightly annoyed, couldn’t fault her for it.

‘I thought you said you were bringing a friend, Mr Holmes.’ The Prime Minister asked, almost mockingly. The other senior officials in the group were giggling a little, all of them suspected he was either gay or lying when he said he was bringing someone and it only served to annoy him.

‘Yes, I’m afraid she was kept working this evening, she’ll be along shortly.’ Mycroft smiled politely, keeping his patience.

‘Oh, I’m sure.’ Another of the officials was just outright making fun of him and he hated it, just the way he was looked down on for his lack of personal life.

I will apologise in advance; I think the anticipation at your arrival has exceeded that which even I am incapable of quietening. – MH

It’s fine, I knew what I was signing up for. I’m just getting in the car now and Andy said we’ll be about twenty minutes. Can you survive that long without me? Oh, and yes, I did bring a coat, so there will be no need for your casual annoyance at my usual dress code. – BW

Andy? – MH

Driver! – BW

Mycroft put his phone away and begun talking to a young man who worked in the defence department. Mycroft didn’t care much for the position he held, but judging from his constant wandering eyes, he wouldn’t last long. Any time any woman of any level of attractiveness walked by, he practically drooled over Mycroft’s shoes.

‘What about you Mr Holmes?’ He said, in a rather laddy way. ‘Any one here take your fancy? I’ll let you have first pick.’

‘That would imply that you are capable of bedding any single woman here.’ Mycroft pretended to be slightly oblivious.

‘It doesn’t take much, you know, a lot of women are pretty much up for whatever.’ He laughed, downing the rest of his champagne.

‘I see and is that a common requirement you have of the women you pursue?’

‘You what?’ He frowned, probably not understanding the question. ‘Look, I’m just looking for a pretty bird and a good shag. Don’t want to end up like you.’

‘Is that supposed to be an insult?’ Mycroft feigned annoyance.

‘Sir,’ one of the waiters had approached him, thankfully. ‘Miss Wheeler’s car has just pulled up.’

‘Thank you, I’ll be right there.’ Mycroft gave a polite nod. He felt slightly giddy. ‘Can I trust you not to make a scene while I collect Miss Wheeler?’

‘Who’s Miss Wheeler?’

‘If you don’t know, you’re not paying close enough attention.’ Mycroft said and left the young man as confused as before.

He strode a little quickly down to the main entrance where Bethany was being escorted by the driver who he imagined was Andy, she looked a little nervous, but that wasn’t what caught his eye.

Bethany allowed Andy to take her coat, revealing an ankle length navy dress, long-sleeved, with a simple flowered pattern sewn into the whole dress, making her look slender and elegant. It had a conservative v-neck, elongating her neck and the necklace she always wore, the one he gave her for Christmas, draped around her collarbone. She had elected to wear just a little more make up than usual, enough to highlight her pretty features and soften her dark eyes, even her hair was pinned up, it still had the slightly wild frizz that he associated with her, but she was making the effort to blend in.

‘Thank you.’ She said to Andy, he gestured to where Mycroft was standing just a few feet away. ‘Mycroft, thank god, I’m so sorry I’m late.’ She took a couple of steps towards him and the smell of ginger inflated his lungs. ‘Do I look okay? I wasn’t exactly sure, but I sent a picture to Anthea and she thought it was fine, so I just trusted her judgement. The last thing I want is to embarrass you.’

‘You couldn’t.’ Mycroft said, just a little too quickly. He cleared his throat and smiled. ‘What I mean is, you look lovely and no one will think otherwise.’

Bethany’s smile suddenly turned into a Cheshire grin and Mycroft was playfully wary of it. ‘I knew this day would come. You telling me I look lovely. How does it feel, complementing a known anarchist?’

Mycroft was thrown back to one of the first conversations they’d had at John and Mary’s wedding, where he’d gone to the special effort to not tell her in case he showed his hand.

‘I believe the score is now two nil in your favour.’ Mycroft offered his arm, which she took gratefully.

‘The rebels always win, Mycroft.’ She teased.

‘Indeed. Do you have your phone?’

‘Yeah, why?’

Mycroft smiled and held out his hand, she knew where he was going with this and handed it over for him to carry.

‘If there’s an emergency with Rosie, I will of course surrender the phone, but until that happens, we have a deal.’ He reminded her and guided her back to the gala. ‘Now, as I remember, I promised to make this as entertaining as I could.’

‘That you did.’

‘Well, there is a young man I was just speaking to who seems to think he can get any woman he chooses because they’re all “up for whatever”. I imagine he’ll need taking down a peg or two and I thought I’d save him for you.’

‘Very kind of you, Mr Holmes.’ Bethany chuckled. ‘What would you require in return for the privilege?’

‘First one’s on the house, Miss Wheeler.’ He said, in a lower tone than he’d used before. It had just a small effect on her and managed to keep her focus firmly placed on him. ‘Apologies, Mr Joiner,’ he said, approaching the young man he’d been speaking to previously. It seemed Bethany’s appearance had taken all of his attention and he looked hungrily at her. ‘What was it we were talking about before I so rudely left the conversation?’

Mycroft managed to catch the attention of a waiter and took two glasses of champagne from his tray, handing one to Bethany, standing just behind her in a slightly protective way.

‘Hi there,’ he said, and Mycroft felt Bethany leaning back, clearly she’d smelt his breath, but Mycroft didn’t move, letting her know she was safe with him, he wouldn’t let any harm come to her. ‘Sorry, didn’t catch your name, I’m Ben, Ben Joiner.’

‘Bethany Wheeler.’ She said, politely shaking his hand. ‘And what is it you do, Mr Joiner?’

‘Defence.’ He was trying to be suave and it made Mycroft’s stomach churn, but Bethany wasn’t having any of it. ‘It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.’

‘Mm, I can imagine.’

‘What about you? Gorgeous girl like yourself? Let me guess, some kind of model? You been in Milan recently?’

Mycroft was only sipping his champagne to stop himself throwing up. Bethany took a deep breath and Mycroft felt his excitement rise, this was what he’d been waiting for all night.

‘No, I have been in Peru though.’

‘Peru?’

‘Yes, visiting my parents who are currently trying to solve the oil crisis there, you know the one where tonnes of oil has leaked into the river and has started poisoning the nearby wildlife and people. My father is building a new type of extraction machine to help get the oil out of the water before it does any more damage, and my mother is single-handedly running the nearby hospitals. I was just there on holiday really, but I did manage to solve the chemical equations that were giving them so much trouble in the first place. It shortened the timescale they’d set themselves for solving the crisis by several months and potentially saved thousands of lives. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.’ Bethany shrugged and took a sip of champagne, while Mr Joiner just stared at her.

‘Right, well,’ he stammered. ‘That was good of you.’

‘No, that was easy, anyone could have done it, even you.’

‘Well, maybe you’re selling yourself a little short-‘

‘That does seem to be a common complaint people have.’ Bethany feigned wonder. ‘Even Mr Holmes has mentioned it on occasion.’

It seemed to be at that moment, Mr Joiner had notice that Mycroft was even standing there.

‘Yes,’ he cut in, standing a little more to the side and placing his hand quite obviously on her lower back. ‘I forgot to mention to Miss Wheeler that your department appreciated the Baskerville paper I sent over.’

‘You wrote that?’ Mr Joiner suddenly looked rather embarrassed, and Bethany’s eyes narrowed in on why, this was pure entertainment as far as Mycroft was concerned.

‘I did.’ She said with a wicked smile. ‘I heard it was being actioned, finally, but I do hope that whoever is in charge of the security at Baskerville doesn’t find out that their security was hole-picked by an overactive fourteen-year-old child. I would have gotten around to part two through ten, but as I remember it, I was studying for my GCSEs at the time and a piano exam.’

‘Right.’ Mr Joiner was suddenly very nervous and was almost shaking. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me.’

‘Of course, lovely chatting.’ Bethany smiled her signature, bright smile as the gross young man scuttled away. She turned to Mycroft and sipped her champagne, glancing around the room. ‘Boom,’ she whispered. ‘That’s how to start an evening at a posh party.’

‘Indeed. I believe he was trembling as he rushed away.’

‘Probably.’ She sighed.

‘What is it? You didn’t enjoy that?’

Bethany looked up at him and there was a new expression he didn’t recognise. ‘Guys like him are a dime a dozen, they’re sleazy and gross and there’s a whole house of them living down my road. I like winning those small battles, but it just reminds me of a bigger war going on.’

Mycroft shifted a little. ‘I already told you that I could deal with them, if that’s what you wanted. You only have to ask.’

Bethany looked as if she was about to say something, when suddenly the Prime Minister herself bustled over.

‘Mycroft Holmes!’ She cheered, clearly having drunk too much already.

‘Prime Minister.’ Mycroft nodded, curtly.

‘Please do introduce us to the lovely young lady you’ve brought with you tonight.’

Mycroft was suddenly aware that he had more than the Prime Minister’s attention and that several people around them were listening in, this wasn’t what he wanted for Bethany.

‘Of course, this is Miss Bethany Wheeler,’ he said, placing his hand a little more firmly on her lower back, making sure she knew she was okay. ‘Miss Wheeler, I’m sure the Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland needs no introduction.’

Mycroft caught something in Bethany’s expression that he almost missed, it was something of a challenging nature, one that he became wary of immediately.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bethany.’ The Prime Minister shook Bethany’s hand.

‘And you.’ It was short and curt, to the point and Mycroft didn’t like it.

‘So, do tell us how Mycroft managed to rope you into this.’ She said, and suddenly they were being ushered into the previous group of officials that Mycroft had been previously mocked by. He kept Bethany well within his grasp, tucked under his arm.

‘Phone call out the blue,’ Bethany charmed. ‘He asked, I was free and said yes, no real rope involved I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, I see,’ the minister for defence himself piped up, again looking a little hungrily at Bethany. ‘We always suspected Mycroft had a secret girlfriend or boyfriend stowed away somewhere, why he kept you quiet, I have no idea. Mycroft you should have shown her off sooner.’

Mycroft felt his hand pressing harder into her back and took a breath to cool himself.

‘Really?’ Bethany looked almost genuinely shocked. ‘I didn’t know he had a secret girlfriend. God, Mycroft we really do need to catch up at some point. Every time I’m away there’s always something new going on, honestly it’s a wonder anyone can keep up.’

‘Oh right,’ the minister was taking back his words. ‘So, you two aren’t erm…?’

‘What?’

‘Well, you know… together?’

‘What do you mean?’ Bethany knew perfectly well what he was asking, but she was doing a very good job of pretending she didn’t.

‘Well, when we heard Mycroft was bringing a woman to the party, we assumed-‘

‘Bold of you to assume I have any time for a personal life, Mr… erm?’ Bethany feigned not knowing his name.

‘Call me Simon.’

‘Simon. Well, I’m sure it’s a pleasure to meet you.’

Mycroft had to stop himself laughing, the Prime Minister was giving him a warning glare.

‘Perhaps we stop making the minister’s life difficult now, Miss Wheeler?’ Mycroft playfully steered the conversation away from Bethany’s pricklier side.

They managed to start up another conversation with some other minister and did the rounds fairly quickly, Bethany was good at making small talk and had an extraordinary sense for extracting partial pieces of information that Mycroft would find useful in various upcoming meetings. How she was doing it was beyond him, but he was grateful she was on his side.

On occasion, he would check in and ask if she was alright. She was surprised at first, but her dark eyes softened and warmed to him and she soon begun letting slip a little more honesty.

‘It’s overwhelming,’ she chuckled, her arm around his waist while they moved onto the next conversation. ‘But I’m okay.’

‘Maybe some air would help?’ Mycroft gently guided her outside to where the air was significantly cooler and Bethany looked instantly more relaxed. ‘There we are, all you needed was a little room to breathe.’ He smiled, taking her to the balcony that looked out at the city.

‘How can you stand it?’ She asked.

‘What?’

‘The game they play, it’s not even fun, it’s just exhausting and seemingly pointless.’

Mycroft bowed his head a little bashfully. ‘What you’ve witnessed tonight is training of sorts, we use galas and gatherings for all sorts of things, but primarily, we play a smaller scale game of one played when running the country. It’s not about beating each other; it’s about holding each other accountable and testing weaknesses in your teammates.’

‘How does that work?’ Bethany frowned, shaking her head.

‘For example, my test tonight was to rise to the challenge the PM set me earlier in the week,’ Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view as well. ‘She wasn’t really asking me to bring a date because she was worried about Lady Smallwood, what she was asking of me is if I can be relied upon to follow through on instruction and separate myself from toxic situations with as little fuss as possible.’

Bethany nodded. ‘And did you?’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘No. I think more fuss was created in my turning up with a very attractive young woman than I anticipated.’

‘Three nil.’ She smiled.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You complimented me again, I’m taking a point for that.’

‘I see. When do I start winning this game?’ Mycroft teased, half playfully, half meaning it.

‘When you start telling me what you want and working a bit harder for it.’

‘What I want.’ Mycroft mused. It was a big question and one he couldn’t find a concise answer to. He definitely didn’t want to tell her standing on the balcony of a gala he’d forced her to.

‘Look,’ she said, stepping closer so no one overheard. ‘I don’t know what it is you really want from me and I’m not going to force you to tell me, ever. But there will come a time where you may need to start figuring it out. I like having fun with you, going to dinner, texting, even coming to some fancy gala has it’s perks, thank you again for re-enforcing my position with Dr Mathieson.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Mycroft nodded, wanting her to get back to the point.

‘I just don’t want either of us to be disappointed by expectation.’ Bethany’s dark eyes found his and that same warmth he felt when she was around was firmly placed in the pit of his stomach. ‘I’m on your side, Mycroft. You’ve been nothing but kind to me even though you didn’t have to be. And I never did thank you for looking after me that night at the aquarium.’ Mycroft suddenly looked down at his shoes. ‘I knew you didn’t stay with me all through the night and I know you were well out of your comfort zone… but I also know you did your best and that was enough for me. So, thank you.’

‘Of course.’ Mycroft didn’t know what else to say and it only made her half laugh, smiling widely and gently biting her bottom lip before quickly releasing it.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’re a waste of brain power out here, I think the PM has had one too many and wants to question you about how you managed to land a hot young thing like me.’

Mycroft was glad she was back to the teasing and the playful nature of her personality, but he did not want to be put under the spotlight with the PM. As it turned out, he didn’t have a choice and Bethany gently dragged him into conversation. The only saving grace was his phone vibrating, he quickly looked down and saw he was needed in the surveillance room.

‘If you’ll excuse me a moment.’ He said, checking with Bethany more than the Prime Minister.

‘Go, I’ll be fine.’ Bethany said and he trusted that she would be.

Mycroft made his way out of the main gala room praying he wasn’t gone long.

‘For God’s sake, I was talking to the Prime Minister.’ He said to an aide he recognised from the surveillance team.

‘I’m sorry Mr Holmes, it’s your brother.’ The young man stumbled to explain. ‘He’s left his flat.

‘What is on fire?’ Mycroft asked, knowing this was a good excuse to get away from the gala, but worrying that he couldn’t just leave Bethany in the hands of the Prime Minister.

‘Nothing, sir.’ He stammered. ‘But he is acting strangely.’

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘I will need a security pass for Miss Bethany Wheeler, ensure it is in my hands before we arrive.’

Mycroft headed back into the main room and quickly moved to find Bethany who was still in conversation with the Prime Minister.

‘Apologies, Prime Minister.’ Mycroft smiled politely, gently guiding Bethany towards him, indicating they were leaving. ‘You’ll have to excuse Miss Wheeler and I; we have some urgent business to discuss.’

‘Oh Mycroft, work can wait.’ The PM moaned, clearly having drunk far more than she should have done.

‘No, I don’t think it can.’ Bethany was watching him like a hawk and managed to work out that this really wasn’t something that could be put off. ‘I’m sure we’ll meet again soon Prime Minister.’

Bethany nodded curtly and almost dragged Mycroft with her. ‘Is this Sherlock or Rosie?’ She asked on the way out.

‘Sherlock.’ He sighed. ‘He’s left his flat.’

Mycroft gestured for Andy to get the car ready at they entered the reception and he stopped by the cloakroom to get her coat, handing her phone back to her in the process. He tried several times to call John, but he wasn’t picking up.

Once they arrived, the aide Mycroft had sent to get Bethany’s pass was waiting.

‘Sir, we just need to add a photograph-‘

Mycroft held his hand up, knowing what was coming. ‘You can’t get into the security room without a pass.’ He explained to Bethany. ‘Please ensure Miss Wheeler finds her way up once you’re finished here.’

He smiled at Bethany before striding away, knowing she’d be fine, and heading up to where Lady Smallwood was watching in the surveillance room. He was unimpressed to say the least, something about feeling a sense of loss, something about Bethany not being with him. He tried phoning John again.

‘We can keep tabs.’ Lady Smallwood said as Mycroft entered the room. ‘You didn’t need to come in.’

‘I was talking to the Prime Minister.’ He said, annoyed.

‘Oh, I see.’ Lady Smallwood knew exactly why he decided to come in.

‘What’s he doing? Why is he just wandering about like a fool?’ Mycroft frowned at the screen.

‘She died, Mycroft. He’s probably still in shock.’

‘Everybody dies. It’s the one thing human beings can relied upon to do. How can it still come as a shock to people?’ Mycroft suddenly thanked his lucky stars that Bethany wasn’t there to hear him say that. Mary was her friend too.

‘You sound cross.’ Lady Smallwood turned to face him. ‘Am I going to be taken away by security again?’

‘I have, I think, apologise extensively.’

‘You haven’t made it up to me.’

‘And how am I supposed to do that?’

‘Mr Holmes.’ Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the aide. ‘It’s Miss Wheeler.’

‘Show her in.’ Mycroft nodded.

‘We’re just letting civilians in here now are we?’ Lady Smallwood said, now she sounded cross.

‘She has clearance,’ Mycroft sighed. ‘You think I was going to let the Colbeck’s daughter remain in conversation with the PM.’

Even she couldn’t deny the logic in that. Mycroft turned to see Bethany, scanning the room quickly while she walked towards him. The way she always did that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, she was so incredibly perceptive, it almost scared him. Almost.

‘John isn’t answering his phone.’ He told her.

Bethany took her phone out and handed it to him. ‘He might answer if it’s me.’ She said. Mycroft hated to admit she might have been right, but the logic was sound.

‘Nice to see you again Miss Wheeler.’ Lady Smallwood interrupted. Mycroft tried with his own phone again, not wanting to admit defeat.

‘You too, Lady Smallwood, hope you’ve been keeping well.’

‘Yes.’ Mycroft knew that tone and shot a warning glare at Lady Smallwood. ‘I heard you suffered a snake bite in Peru.’

‘Two actually,’ Bethany corrected her with the same tone as Lady Smallwood’s. ‘Only one was venomous though.’

‘Bethany.’ He warned, no amount of glaring was going to calm her, a verbal warning was what seemed to work best.

‘What’s Sherlock doing?’ She asked.

‘Nothing, he’s just wandering around.’ Mycroft gestured to the screen. Bethany took one look and a small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. ‘What is it?’

‘You’ll see.’ She said, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen. Lady Smallwood looked at Mycroft in questioning, but he didn’t have an answer.

Suddenly the room started giggling as they saw it too.

‘What is it? What now?’ Mycroft asked anyone who would give him an answering. John still wasn’t answering, he would need to give in and use Bethany’s phone.

‘Sorry,’ one of the technicians answered his question. ‘Erm, traced his route on the map.’

Mycroft sighed, seeing that Sherlock had spelt out “fuck off”. It only served to exasperate him further. Bethany was trying not to laugh and it was the only thing keeping him calm.

‘Is he with someone?’ Mycroft asked, trying to refocus.

‘Not sure, we keep losing visual. Mostly we’re tracking his phone.’

‘Looks like he might be though.’ Bethany leaned in. ‘Well, at least, it looks like he’s talking to someone, whether there’s someone there or not is another matter.’

‘I’m trying to sleep; can you stop ringing my damn phone.’ John finally answered.

‘Sherlock has left his flat for the first time in months.’ Mycroft said, getting to the point and being mildly annoyed that it was the first dial on Bethany’s phone that caused him to actually answer. ‘I’m having him tracked.’

‘Nice.’ John half laughed, mocking. ‘That’s very touching how you can hijack the machinery of the state to look after your own family. Can I go to sleep now?’

‘Sherlock gone rogue is a legitimate security concern,’ Mycroft snapped. ‘The fact that I’m his brother changes absolutely nothing, it didn’t the last time and I can assure you it won’t with… with Sherlock.’ Mycroft caught the frowning expression of Bethany. Lady Smallwood was also giving him an odd look.

‘Sorry, what?’ John was now curious. Mycroft had said far too much and the only thing he could think of was Bethany. He needed to be grounded again and somehow she was the answer.

‘Please phone me if he gets in contact. Thank you.’ Mycroft said, hanging up. He took a breath and handed Bethany’s phone back to her. She could sense that Lady Smallwood had something she wanted to say and made herself scarce, still watching Sherlock, but his eyes never left her.

‘Do you still speak to Sherrinford?’ Lady Smallwood asked, quietly.

‘I get regular updates.’ He nodded.

‘And?’

‘Sherrinford is secure.’ Mycroft said, firmly.

It was clear that Lady Smallwood was more than capable of keeping tabs on Sherlock and it was only frustrating Mycroft to be in the same room as her. He approached Bethany and silently told her they were leaving.

Bethany cleared her throat. ‘Good luck with the baby,’ she turned to the technician who was controlling the drone. ‘Hope it all goes smoothly for you.’

‘Thanks, Beth.’ He smiled and Mycroft just frowned as they left the surveillance room.

‘What baby?’ Mycroft asked as they made their way down the corridor.

‘Jack’s having a baby,’ she explained casually. ‘His wife’s due in six weeks, they’re having a boy.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I asked him Mycroft.’ She chuckled, weakly. ‘That’s how you get to know people, you talk to them, take an interest.’

Mycroft stopped and just looked at her. ‘What you heard in there, Sherrinford-‘

‘Before you go any further,’ Bethany stopped him, taking a step closer. ‘I’ve heard of Sherrinford, thought it wasn’t a real place at first, but let me make one thing clear. You don’t have to tell me a damn thing if you don’t want to, you’re not under any obligation to talk to me about anything.’

Mycroft took a deep breath, feeling somewhat relieved. ‘It’s safer if you don’t know.’

‘It’s funny how often that’s said right before something terrible happens.’ Bethany looked up at him and her dark eyes absorbed him for a moment. He wanted to kiss her, he was desperate to hold her, but she would never want him to touch her if he was keeping secrets like these from her. ‘Can I assume this night has come to an end?’

Mycroft gave a quick meaningless smile. ‘I think it’s best I drop you home.’

In reality, taking Bethany home was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was for the best. He’d had a wonderful night, pretending to be hers for moments, watching the way she worked a room with incredible ease and precision. She was a beauty for the ages and Mycroft would never see another one like her, certainly not in his life time.

‘Mycroft?’

He was suddenly snapped out of his daze by her voice, they’d arrived outside her house and he’d been idly tracing over her hand the entire way, committing it to memory. He looked over and saw her eyes were just about black, it could well have been arousal, but equally it could have been the darkness and the streetlights barely enough for her to see anything properly.

‘Are you going to let me get out? Or are we going to stay here all night?’ Bethany smiled and Mycroft felt his heart thumping a little faster.

‘Given the choice?’ He smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted.

‘Yes?’

Mycroft slid his hand beneath hers and slowly intertwined their fingers, her hand just seemed to fit with his perfectly and he didn’t want to let go. He ran his other hand over the top, feeling every single part of the back of her hand, again burning the sensation into his mind. This was the grounding he needed, he needed her to simply exist with him and everything would be okay.

‘Thank you for coming tonight.’ He said, looking up at her again and seeing that her eyes had been closed, absorbing the feel of him, she was stunning.

Bethany cleared her throat. ‘That’s okay. Any time.’ She smiled and Mycroft was done resisting.

His eyes landed on her mouth and he instantly leaned over, sliding his hand across her jaw and into her soft hair, inhaling the ginger that gave him so much pleasure. Her lips were soft and giving and Mycroft was desperate to feel her, even just for a moment. She responded in kind and he felt the weight of her palm against his chest. Surely the pounding of his heartbeat was penetrating through, it was beating so hard against his ribcage, she had to have felt it.

It was a moment that Mycroft wished wouldn’t end, but eventually it was obvious that they couldn’t stay kissing in the back of a car forever. He pulled away slowly, still feeling her breath shallow against his mouth, her lips were a little swollen and he hadn’t mean to be so desperate with her.

Bethany soon smiled and gave him her signature soft kiss before pulling back to look at him. ‘Given the choice.’ She repeated, understanding the position he found himself in and understanding why he couldn’t go any further that night. ‘I’ll drop in on Sherlock any chance I get, text you updates if I can.’

‘Thank you.’ Mycroft whispered, having lost his voice.

‘Call me if you need anything.’ She said and soon stepped out of the car, leaving Mycroft alone and frustrated.

Why was none of this simple?

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heartbeatan · 2 years

Text

Crimson Park (Chapter 5)

Return to Chapter 4.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Desperado Series.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 5

It was the Tuesday after the Euchre game. Taesub and Joohyuk were still out of town for a few more days, but Jungkook, as promised - no matter how cold you were to him or how far a distance you held him at - hung around you like a bee to honey (although to his face you told him it was more like a fly to shit.) But the truth you hid from yourself and him was that you didn't mind his constant companionship and were ultimately glad he stuck around – even despite the apprehensive atmosphere that seemed to form around you both when you were together. Behind your visage of strict professionalism, you felt a lingering effect of your encounter in the hall with Jungkook – and you knew he felt it too. Something shifted between you that night, and it didn’t dissipate - even after he stayed up until 5 AM waiting for your hookup to leave.

“I need you to make another delivery for me today," you reached for a drawer in your desk and pulled out a large manilla envelope.

Jungkook tossed his work aside as he sat to attention.

"It’s downtown. I need you to be discreet. Go in casual clothing. Take a taxi, please, and make sure no one sees you.”

"I can't leave you."

You rolled your eyes, hard. "Jungkook, you'll be an hour max, and I'm just going to be here in the literal panic room - and I'm a grown woman with a gun. I'll survive."

"You call that thing in your desk a gun?"

"Well, I can point it at you and pull the trigger if you have any doubts."

He narrowed his eyes at you, but his lips twisted in amusement. He looked back to the envelope in his hands and eyed it with cautious curiosity. “Should I know what’s in here?”

“No. Just make sure it gets there today. We usually deal with Silvie. She'll be working.”

“And if she isn’t there?”

“She will be there.”

“Okay," he nodded. "Don't get attacked or something while I'm gone or else Joohyuk will have me hanged when he gets back."

"That's an intriguing thought," you threatened, but it only made Jungkook's grin widen.

That afternoon, he returned and took his place at his desk. His demeanour was significantly different from the morning. Instead of sighing and shuffling deep in thought, or his eyes flitting up to look at you as they did on occasion, or the airwave being assaulted by his mindless chatter, he came back with a sense of precision – and a sense of coldness. You noticed the shift at once. Despite your own resting chilled attitude, Jungkook had tried tirelessly to wear you down and bring a cheeriness and brightness to the room – but presently that was gone.

Perhaps you should have been happy. Now, there was no need to hide smiles and pretend as if you were indifferent to his presence. But you couldn’t help but feel unease at this new behaviour. You found yourself wondering what it was that had him so bothered.

Three days passed like this. There were no “good morning” smiles, and he didn’t talk your ear off during lunch. He sat firm and with purpose at his desk barely acknowledging you were even there, and despite your best efforts, his coldness was affecting you. Finally, you broke.

“What’s the problem?” you asked him. You said it as if you were scolding a child.

“What do you mean?” he didn’t even look up at you.

“You know what I mean, Jungkook. Don’t play games with me.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not playing any games.”

You felt your face flush in anger. Obviously, he had something to say but he was going to make you work for it. Who did he think he was dealing with?

“Fine,” you concluded curtly.

For another thirty minutes you two sat in silence. Him working and you pretending to work, until finally the intensity became too much to bear.

“What was that envelope for?”

“Excuse me?”

“You sent me to a transition home with that envelope. It had money in it, didn’t it? What was it for?”

You furrowed your brow as you looked back at him. His gaze never waived. He simply stared back at you, his body language demanding an answer.

“I told you not to ask questions, Jungkook,” you turned back to your papers.

“No. You advised me that it wasn’t wise.”

“Exactly what is the problem?” your voice raised an octave as did your body temperature.

“My problem is, I came here to work the books. I didn’t come here to help pipeline people into prostitution rings.”

You clamped your mouth shut and quirked your neck - stunned by his declaration. It took you a hot minute or two to figure it out, but finally you understood what his problem was… he thought you were paying off the transition house. At the revelation, you set your pen down, crossed your arms, and leaned towards him.

“Jungkook. When I ask you to do something, and I ask you to not ask questions, it’s for good reason. Also… newsflash… you work for the mob. This,” you pointed your fingers and made circles through the air, “is all the illegal trafficking of drugs, sex, weapons, and money. This is what you signed up for.”

“I signed up to run numbers and be your bodyguard. I did not sign up to pay off some crooked organisation that’s supposed to be helping people.”

"You sat here with me in this very room and helped me blueprint an entire prostitution business plan."

"Because I thought you had no choice and I believed you when you said you didn't want to be a part of it. This is different. You asked me to take all of these precautions which makes me think Dongnam doesn't even know, which means all of this is on you. You're trafficking people in their moment of crisis by bribing a crooked welfare service."

“They’re not crooked…” you breathed, but Jungkook didn’t stop.

“For some stupid reason, I really believed you were better than all that. plenty of people here run side scams, but you don't need to and yet here you are paying them off,” he seethed.

“I’m not fucking paying them off!” you shouted back.

He stopped his rant and looked back up to you with pointed eyes and flared nostrils, ready to keep going, but he sat quietly. You had been snarky and cold with him many times, but never once did you truly shout at him before - and it must’ve shaken him enough to shut up.

“I’m not, fucking bribing them.”

“Then what was it?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. "What I will say is that it's not nefarious."

"If it's not, then just tell me."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust you, Jungkook! I shouldn't have even fucking sent you, and I wouldn’t have if I had known you would be so fucking relentless instead of just taking orders."

For the first time since you knew him, he didn't have a retort. His jaw clenched and he turned away from you, frustration - or something - still coursing through him.

"Fine," he eventually said, digging back into work without another glance at you.

You both worked away in an indignant silence, but the room was thick with tension and unspoken words. After what felt like hours, your anger began to drip away, but unease took its place. You knew Jungkook still believed his version of events, and it was eating away at you.

"It's not what you think it is," you said quietly. But he didn't look up. "But it is a secret."

"I can't keep your secret if I don't know what secret I'm keeping."

"If I tell you, you will be culpable, and I will not be able to protect you. And I sure as fuck am ready to lie and pin it all on you if it gets out and Dongnam wants to ask questions."

That got his attention, and he finally looked up. "I'm willing to take the risk." You exhaled a loud breath of air and ran your fingers through your hair, still very much reluctant to let him in. "I'm not here to sell you out to Dongnam, Y/N. Even if he put a gun to my head, I wouldn't. I'm not like that."

"It was money. A lot. And you're right, Dongnam doesn't know. He doesn't need to know. It's personal and has nothing to do with him. Technically, it's not against any rule of his, but I don't care to be the first test subject."

"I won't say anything. You can trust me, Y/N."

You sighed, again. You didn't trust him, even though you wanted to - but he knew enough already to hang you, so you figured regardless, you could at least let him relay the truth. "…it was funding.”

“Funding?”

“Yes,” you shrugged your shoulders. "Technically, it's a donation - since I can't be caught being a funder to a place like that - so, I do it in the form of an anonymous donation."

"Funding for what exactly?"

"To keep it open. It was scheduled to be shut down a few years ago."

“Dongnam gets his girls from places like that, why would you want to keep it open if not for him?"

“It also happens to be a place that people need," you emphasised the words as best as you could. "And with the right resources, they can combat dicks who try to recruit and kidnap from there."

Jungkook took a moment to let the information marinate…

“Why are you doing it?”

“That you are not getting an answer too," you said sternly. " I don't give a fuck what you accuse me of this time."

Jungkook fell silent again, trapped in a contemplative circus, then he took a deep breath…

“Does Taesub and Joohyuk know?” he asked.

"They know that Dongnam doesn't need to know about it."

“And they keep your secret?”

“They’re good people, Jungkook.”

“This is the mob. Are there such thing as good people?” he chuckled to himself.

You straightened your shoulders and stared sharply at him. “Do you consider yourself to be a good person, Jungkook? Cause for a minute there you seemed to be trying to give me a talking to.”

He blinked a few times as he considered what you were asking him. Obviously, he hadn’t thought too much about it.

“You’re still new here - but you’ll learn soon enough that crime is full of criminals, but that isn’t the same as being a good or a bad person. Both exist here in this organisation. You just have to know how to spot who is who.”

You turned back to the papers in front of you, picked up your pen and began writing.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Jungkook meekly whisper from his desk. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Like I said, I don't make any moves without reason - and I keep secrets from all of you for your own benefit. You shouldn't have questioned what was in there. You want me to trust you, but you don't seem to have any faith in me."

You were still looking at your desk, but you could sense how much your statement gave him pause.

"You're right," he surrendered. "I'll fix that."

⁂

The argument over the money washed over as if it never happened. One could say that your and Jungkook’s work environment was pleasant and peaceful – except that the operations meeting was now only a week away and you were about ready to pull out your hair as the date approached. Jungkook went back to his usual routine of friendly banter and lighthearted quips trying to ease your mood and walk you back from the ledge whenever things became too much. He became a master coffee brewer as the long days turned into long nights, and as long weeks turned into even longer weekends. He never complained, though, and you appreciated that most about him. Since Dongnam hadn't shown up at your door ready to off you because of the transition home, you even let Jungkook help you somewhat with the brothel's proposal.

One night, however, it all became too much. The stress, the deadlines and the proposal all tore at your inners, and made you feel like a restless animal trapped in a gilded cage. You needed a release. So, while Jungkook was out getting takeout, you paged Taesub and asked if he could stay late and relieve Jungkook for a few hours.

“You’re going out?” asked Jungkook when he returned to your apartment. He had in his hand a bag full of food and you had in your hand your glittered clutch which matched your magenta heels.

“Yes. I think we both need a break, so Taesub is going to cover for you.”

"But I got us pork buns."

"You'll have to enjoy them without me." You fumbled with your earrings, then pulled at the strands of your hair fixing them perfectly in place.

“I can take you.”

“No need. You're free for the night. go do something. You deserve it,” you found yourself smiling back at him as you said it. You quickly corrected your slip.

“Seriously. I’m not going to be doing anything else.”

“It’s fine. Taesub is all ready to go,” you waved him off as you slipped out of the apartment. “See you in the morning.”

⁂

“Y/N?” you heard the front door to your apartment open with a bang. “Y/N?” It was Jungkook.

“What is it?” you called to him from the kitchen. He came barreling in moments later.

“Are you okay?” his voice shook as he came to a halt when he found you. Once again, just like the first time – he found you a mess and in your bathrobe. But this time, there was no Tight-Pants… that’s because this episode's suitor had left only moments ago.

“I’m fine,” you tersed.

“I heard yelling.”

“I said I’m fine.”

The kitchen became quiet, save you the sound of his shortened breaths. He clearly ran here in a panic after the screams and the slamming door. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

“You can leave now, Jungkook,” you turned your back to him and began to rummage through the kitchen. “Be here tomorrow by seven, please.”

⁂

The next morning was less awkward than the morning after Jungkook's first intervention in your sex life. He must’ve been getting the gist of your one-night stand success rate - perhaps Taesub or Joohyuk had filled him in. He pretended as if it hadn't happened, and you pretended that you didn't care either way. Regardless, there was still a palpable tension in the air. You lamented about a time when this space wasn't such an emotional rollercoaster, but deep in your chest was a feeling that told you that you wouldn't want to go back to that if you could.

“Y/N…” Jungkook broke you from your thoughts. “Sorry. Ma’am. There’s something funny going on with this file.”

“How do you mean, funny?” you replied, happy to be on any subject except last night.

“These numbers here,” he stood from his desk and walked over to you. He placed the paper in front of you and leaned over behind your shoulder as he pointed out several pieces of data. Your body immediately reacted to his proximity. His chest, his arm – which rested on the chair behind you – his face was so close to you that you swore his heat was warming your skin.

You cleared your throat. “What about them?”

"Remember that day you threatened to shoot me if I came into work, and I came into work anyways?"

"Vividly."

"Remember I wanted to look at something before I left? Well, I had worked over there, and I know how many people they had and for some reason the annual salary claims just wasn't making sense, so I wanted to look at it again."

"OK," you said with skeptical curiosity.

"When I worked there - which was my last assignment before I came to you, I only received a portion of the salary that is being reported as the baseline. At first I thought maybe they didn't pay us full pop because we came from the compound and weren't regular staff, but I'm looking at it now and he's reported that myself and everyone else got full salary."

"You think he forgot to adjust the salaries for the temps?" you took the documents from Jungkook and splayed them over your desk.

"No. If you run this here and here," he pointed to several line items. "I don't think it was a mistake. I think he's doing it for everyone."

You began to punch away on your calculator, double checking that his math was correct. It was.

You sat back in your chair and clicked your tongue, your mind searching for an explanation.

"He doesn't like… report them for tax purposes for his front or something, right?"

"Ha," was all you could give him in response. "Check it again. Thoroughly,” you swallowed as you handed the file back to him.

“I’ve checked it three times already.”

“Once more. If it is what we think it is, I want to be very, very sure before I bring it to Dongnam. When you’re done. I’ll review it myself, so keep all the evidence available, please.”

“Sure thing,” he nodded, then returned to his desk.

Your gut told you that Jungkook was right, and something was wrong. Hours later, you reluctantly resigned yourself to the fact that it was true… you had found a skimmer.

Go to Chapter 6.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook mafia au #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader

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capseycartwright · 2 years

Text

i think, when you're a writer, you're cursed to be a fantasist -

and maybe that's an excuse, for being a hopeless romantic who can't help but dream of a life with you that i might not ever get to have, but i swear, i see the threads of the opening chapters of our novel coming together in a way that writes a story i would love to get to live.

it starts like this -

a quiet introduction, a football match, and a nervous smile. an explanation of who i was - and then that was it, until months later, and suddenly you were a constant part of my life and i was in so deep so quickly.

soft smiles, and silly jokes, and meetings spend messaging each other on teams to question if we really even needed to have this meeting at all. work events and wine glasses and cheersing to the fact we survived another day.

the transition from work friends to friends came slowly, and steadily - as it always done - after work drinks running later and later until they couldn't be counted as work anymore, until i bit the bullet and threw a party and invited you all and in crossing the entrance into my apartment the line was officially crossed -

friends.

i'm happy with friends.

but -

there's more threads and the one that's burning so brightly red in my imagination today is a round of snog, marry, kill about our colleagues where you turn to me and grin, and say, they haven't noticed that neither you or i have answered properly yet.

and i couldn't answer, because i would have had to tell an entire table of our friends that the only person i want to snog, and marry is you - and if my life were a hollywood movie, that would be the moment the audience were on board with the end of us. endgame, they'd say - the friends to lovers slowburn that the novel was marketed as coming to life in a dimly lit bar on a friday night.

and if i were the protagonist of this novel - which, i suppose, i am - the feeling of your hand rubbing slow circles on my back as we huddled together for warmth on a grim january evening as we waited for an uber would be burned into my memory, and the way your knee knocked against mine as you listened intently while someone else told a story would be enough for me to begin to dream of a life i might never get to have for myself -

and i know, in the novel this makes for, this is the moment that the reader is yelling that i should just ask and it's the same lecture i have gotten from my friends for weeks, now, and i know i should ask so then at least i would finally know -

except if i ask and all these threads are nothing more than wisps of fantasy and this great love story i crave so wholeheartedly is nothing more than a comfort blanket of make-believe that will never amount to more than this, words on a page that promise something beautiful that will never be mine -

i don't think i could survive knowing you'd never be mine.

and maybe its nothing to do with being a writer at all - maybe its more to do with the fact that i crave love in a way that feels fucking crippling sometimes and it has never ever worked out to be the sunday kind of love i have wanted my whole adult life and maybe i am just hopelessly romantic at heart and that's why i'm sitting here dreaming of a novel -

because i haven't yet figured out how to be brave enough to make that novel ideal my life.

#in which i ramble #my writing tag #this is a callout post specifically for myself don't be a silly little hopeless romantic bitch and do something about it #anyways.... happy sunday #i'm so fine lets not even talk about it

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ermakeys · 2 years

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An Essential Aspect Of Gravity Is Not Being Afraid To Fall

This is the final chapter, chapter 5.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

AO3

Chapter 5: Beyond

A final message.

An image of Kaert sprang to life.

Kaert sat in a recliner chair with his feet up and Vaar’ika, stretched out beside him. He smiled as his trembling hands, ran over Vaar’ika’s head and neck. He looked frail and tired, but alive.

“I’ve set up the droid, father,” a voice announced. The speaker was out of view of the camera and Kaert looked up with a small frown. “I have some work to do, so I will go into my office and return in an hour.”

Kaert shook his head and muttered, “I don’t see why I should make this. I’ll be off-world again soon.”

“You promised you’d only leave if your health improved,” the feminine voice continued in a stern tone. “If your health continues to deteriorate, you’ll thank me for having made this for Aran.”

He grimacede and the woman off-frame sighed. Dimly the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing could be heard and Kaert grumbled under his breath for a moment before rubbing a hand over his face. He focused on the camera and made another face.

“My name is Kaert of House Rovhoss,” he declared in a slightly petulant tone. “I am making this recording in case my health does not improve and my daughter does not want to be the one to explain everything to my grandchild why I did what I did.”

He smirked.

“Aran, by the time you see this you’ll be a fully recognized member of House Rovhoss. Mandalore will have gained a new warrior that the Duchess will need to be wary of,” he drawled and scoffed at the mention of the ruler of Mandalore. “They won’t be pleased when they see you wearing your beskar, but kark them. House Rovhoss is powerful enough thanks to our role in the war that the current government can complain and that will be all they can do. The New Mandalorians are such hypocrites. Only marginally better than Death Watch.”

Kaert glanced down at Vaar’ika and smiled softly. He rubbed her head and murmured, “When my part in the war was over, I was lost for a while. Vaar’ika helped ground me and yet I felt like I had no purpose. Until you hid on my porch, Aran.

After years of just surviving, I felt alive when I took care of you. I helped forge you into the warrior you became to hunt the monsters that dared darken your life. I had direction and the fire to help change something again.”

He looked up at the camera again with a grin.

“Without you, I would have faded away. I would have been nothing more than a forgotten name in the Rovhoss family register. Remembered only by my daughter and perhaps Jango and his son.”

Kaert let out a bark of laughter, loud enough to startled Vaar’ika. He shushed her, rubbing at her ears until she settled down again and he chuckled, “Boba is a little firecracker just like you. I think you’d get along very well.”

He fell silent for a moment, smiling to himself.

“My fondest memories are of Shevla and you, Aran,” he admitted and lowered his gaze. “Shevla gave me the courage to fight for what I believed in to secure her a future. You needed someone to help you become strong enough to fight your demons.”

He cleared his throat and avoided looking at the camera.

“Both of you have grown to become wonderful and strong children of Mandalore. I am proud to call myself a father and grandfather to both of you.”

He swallowed, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“And that was also why I had to do this quietly,” he continued, voice cracking with emotions. “I know you have… mixed feelings about Mandalore. By having you become a foundling to Shevla, you will have the right to return to Mandalore, if you ever chose to.”

Kaert slowly raised his gaze to meet the camera and his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“I am old, Aran. Just like Vaar’ika. Shevla has made a name for herself here and secured our house. You have your friends and connections all over the galaxy and I can’t keep up with you anymore. If anything should happen or you ever need aid, I need to know that someone of mine will be there for you. As a full member of House Rovhoss you gain more rights and protections than you had before.”

He snorted, wiping at his eyes with one hand.

“And some responsibilities unfortunately.”

Kaert sat there for a few minutes, staring ahead and thinking. Finally, he shook his head and grinned.

“Hopefully, you’ll never have to see this silly recording Shevla made me do,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes before sobering with a deep breath. “If you do, well, I will know you forever. I will keep both of you in my heart even beyond this life.”

He sat up with a grunt and frowned at the camera.

“I will attach a file to this recording for you, Aran,” he explained as he pulled a datachip from his pocket. He waved and the camera rolled closer before stopping before him. Kaert fiddled with something before there was a chime of something having been uploaded. “Shevla would find this information interesting, but ultimately useless as she never fully trained in the way of the warrior like you did.”

Kaert smirked down at the camera.

“Just consider this a little gift from your grandfather. Something you could use to change this galaxy for the better if you chose to. No one would miss Death Watch anyway.”

He stared into the camera with a smirk.

The recording shut off.

#aran #kaert #my ocs #an essential aspect of gravity is not being afraid to fall #the only thing keeping me here is gravity #defying gravity #star wars #mandalorian #mandalore #house rovhoss #well well well if it isn't me leaving another cliffhanger #shevla #aran rovhoss #shevla rovhoss #kaert rovhoss #posting this while listening to vode an

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strangerthingfanfic · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1: 3 weeks

July 25, 1985

Speech by The Mayor of Hawkins

“Three weeks have passed since that Fourth of July.

The Fourth is to celebrate our independence but after this year it will mean so much more to the people of Hawkins.

It will be a day to remember the people who stood up to unimaginable evil and sacrificed themselves for others.

We will remember Sheriff Jim Hopper as a valuable member of our police force, a caring individual, and most of all a wonderful father to his daughter Jane.

He died while trying to save the lives of others when the explosion at the mall happened.

We will remember the young lives of Billy Hargrove and Heather Holloway who were taken too early by an unimaginable tragedy that befell them at Star Court Mall.

As Mayor of Hawkins I promise I will find the culprits who set the explosives in the basement of the mall and the will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

I also pledge that the mall will be rebuilt bigger and better.

Today we move forward. The shops reopen. Schools will open again in a month. Let's make the rest of summer as memorable as we can for the children returning to school.

Thank you all for coming”

Family Video after the speech

Steve sighed. Standing outside of the video store he couldn't help but want to scream “ the speech was all a bunch of horseshit to save the mayor's ass”.

But he didn't. He just thought about what really happened that night.

Robin and him here captured and drugged by Russian spies and Erica and Dustin we're almost captured themselves.

Not only were Russian spies trying to open a gate to the upside down in the basement of the mall but Billy died a fucking hero. He gave his life to make sure Max and the rest of them survive. Hopper gave his life shutting down the damn gate.

But they also lost living people.

The death of Hopper was the last straw in Joyce’s haystack. First there was Bob who she saw die right in front of her and then there was the last person in the world she could lose, Hopper.

She had packed up Jane, Will and Jonathan and moved to Lenora Hills, California.

It didn't end there though. Nancy also moved with the Byers to California. She was offered a job at one of the leading papers there and she couldn't refuse so Joyce told her she could live with them.

He finally was ready to open the store but his hand was shaking. Half out of sadness and the other half anger.

Sadness at losing friends in such a way. Sadness for Dustin and friends who had to say goodbye to Will. Sadness for Max who was dealing with guilt and anger of her own. He let her know she could talk to him anytime.

Then there was the anger.

Anger at the town for ignoring Billy and not even attending the small service his parents had. Only him and the gang showed up but they showed up for support towards Max.

Anger at Neil Hargrove for taking off and leaving his wife and daughter to fend for themselves. Thankfully a kind benefactor bought their house and turned the deed over to Max.

They will never know that Billy had given Steve the money to buy the house if he died and Neil pulled some stupid shit like he did.

Billy was rough around the edges and his fists hurt like hell but Steve would fight anyone who tried to tell him he didn't love Max.

He finally got the door unlocked and he went inside, locking the doors behind him so he could get ready for the days.

The store wasn't set to open for another half hour so he got the registers ready, the displays set right, and did some basic cleaning.

Robin would be in an hour after opening so he would have some quiet time to set himself right.

When the clock hit 10 am he opened the doors and went to his spot behind the counter.

Between it being summer and the fact everyone probably was back home sleeping after that riveting pile of lies, he doubted anyone would be in until the afternoon.

Taking in a deep breath and reminding himself it was time to let it go he started messing around with the displays on the counter.

That's when he heard the ding.

The sound announced that a customer had just entered the store.

He looked up and he almost fell backward.

There at the front the door was Eddie Munson. Steve couldn't help but be mesmerized by the guy's smile and his very beautiful hair. The curled-filled strands fell beneath his shoulders making him even more tantalizing to look at.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Steve said “welcome to Family Video where everyone is family. Anything I can help you find”?

Giving his award-winning smile Eddie cleared his throat and said “I found what I'm looking for”.

Chapter 2: Eddie

Steve blushed brighter than a tomato making Eddie laugh. His laugh was so childlike and beautiful.

“So big boy, are you free after work tonight? I thought you could come by place and watch a movie of your choosing” Eddie said as he came closer to the counter.

‘He already has a nickname for me,’ Steve thought to himself. He wanted to say yes so badly. He should say yes.

“That sounds fun,” Steve said, putting a hand on top of Eddie’s. He could feel the rings on each of his fingers. His hands were calloused from helping his uncle fix cars.

Eddie didn't move his hand which made Steve even happier and then out of nowhere Eddie leaned over the counter and gave Steve a kiss on his cheek.

“That's to keep you going big boy,” Eddie said with a bright smile and as he walked out Robin walked in and smiled wickedly.

When she got her stuff put away in the back and her name tag on Robin headed back out to the front.

“So straight Steve isn't so straight after all” Robin teased as she got situated.

Steve looked at her confused and asked “whoever said I was?”

“The whole school dingus. Whenever rumors popped up about you and Tommy, Billy and Jonathan the natural answer was ‘straight as a ruler Steve’.

Though I never truly believed that especially watching you around Jonathan but I wasn't going to make assumptions since you were so hooked on Nancy.

But don't worry dingus, your secret is safe with me” Robin said in one breath.

Steve places his head on the table and groans. “I don't know Robin, I've never felt the way I do about Eddie around others, even Nancy.

He is like walking in the sunlight. His smile makes me smile.

His eyes never stop beaming with a childlike wonder that I wish I could have.

He is like a rock. I never knew I needed Rob.

He also likes kids which means he isn't going to mind my dream of having a bunch of kids and going on a family trip, or at least I don't think he will” Steve said into the counter.

Robin rubbed his back and said, “you've got it bad and my guess is that this is the first time you've actually spoken to him”.

Steve nodded and slapped his forehead and said “I don't even know if he feels the same. I mean he kissed my cheek but that doesn't mean anything. He could kiss everyone's cheek.

Maybe he just knew I was down and was offering to be a friend and here I am planning out our entire future together even though I don't even know if he likes me like that.

What's wrong with me”?

“That is a loaded question dingus and would take hours and maybe days to answer but that guy was hot on you.

He never lost eye contact with you even as he was walking out.

Just relax, finish work, and then get the guy of your dreams. I will take on your babysitting duties at the Sinclair home tonight” Robin said with a grin.

“Damn I forgot about that. I should just call Eddie and say I can't make it” Steve said and reached for the phone.

Robin slapped his hand and said, “I have Erica, you take care of Eddie”.

Steve opened his mouth to protest but Robin put her hand over it. It was the end of that conversation.

The rest of the day Robin wouldn't let him near the phone.

She didn't want any chance of him calling and canceling. The only call he was allowed to make was to Sue Sinclair letting her know Robin would be watching Erica since something came up.

Thankfully Sue knew Robin and Erica liked it better anyway when Robin watched her because she was more relaxed with the rules, so it wasn't a big deal.

And then there was Dustin. He decided to pop in and say hi and of course, Robin told him everything about Eddie and him inviting Steve over.

“Oh my God Steve, Eddie is like a God to D&D players. His campaigns are epic and he is the highest-rated dungeon master I know” Dustin said super excited.

“You know Eddie Munson Dustin?” Steve asked his jealousy of how amazing Dustin thought Eddie was showing.

“Yeah. Met him when he came to the middle school to do a campaign there. I can't wait to be part of The Hellfire Club. Also, you dating him would mean I have a pass in” Dustin said still excited.

Steve moaned and when Dustin dashed out to tell the others, went back to cleaning racks and things while Robin laughed at his jealousy.

As 6 pm approached, Steve's stomach began to churn with nervousness.

“I can't do this Robin,” Steve said as they headed to his car. He was going to drop her off at the Sinclairs and then head to Eddies.

“You will be fine. Just be yourself and things will happen as they are supposed to, " Robin said, rubbing his shoulders.

Steve tried to believe her but it was hard since he was about to go and try to make something work with his polar opposite.

When they got to the Sinclairs house Robin told Steve to be brave and headed inside.

He was glad she would be spending the night since she didn't drive.

Looking over he saw the two movies Robin had picked out for them to watch. One was an animated cartoon called Ewoks and the battle for Endor and the other was Tommy.

Steve liked the cuddly Ewoks but he wasn't sure that Eddie would feel the same so they would probably end up watching Tommy since it's his kind of music.

As soon as she was in he started the car and headed to the scariest place he had ever been, Eddie Munson’s house for a movie date.

#stranger things #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #ao3 tags #steddie #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #dungeons and dragons

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bambirex · 1 year

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The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good: Chapter 13

Pairings: Geraskefer, Geraskier, Yennskier, Yenralt

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia, Ciri of Cintra, Lambert

Additional tags: implied/referenced abuse, forced pregnancy, mpreg, creature fic, fae Jaskier, creature Yennefer, captivity, enemies to friends to lovers, polyamory, found family, hurt/comfort, it starts out angsty but it will get better, completely made up lore, fertility issues, completely made up skills and powers, angst, angst with a happy ending, whump, Jaskier whump, Yennefer whump, intersex Jaskier, Ciri whump, Geralt whump, blood, nightmares, injury, wound care

Rating: mature

Chapters: 13/20

Full word count: 40,194 words

Chapter word count: 2,974 words

Summary: Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Chapter summary: Ciri practices her magic with Yennefer. They become even closer during the process, and Ciri reveals another, disturbing layer of her powers. Geralt and Jaskier have a moment together.

Author's notes: I hit a bit of a roadblock with this fic, but I think I know where I'm taking this, at last!

Read on Ao3

Ciri closed her eyes, focusing inwards. She pursed her lips into a thin line, each muscles in her face and the rest of her body pulled tight in concentration. She could feel frustration building inside her as her mind missed the connection to her body. A gentle hand touched her back.

"Relax," Yennefer told her softly. "Don't overdo it."

"It's hard," Ciri admitted with a sigh of defeat. She lowered her hands and turned around, giving Yennefer a wounded look. "I'm afraid I will never get it right."

"We'll try our best," Yennefer promised. "Sometimes, it's the most we can do. Your power is huge, Ciri. It makes sense you struggle with it."

Ciri scoffed softly. She turned around and watched the small tree trunk that she was practicing on- well, tried to, mostly. Apparently, achieving full acces to the chaos inside her wasn't as easy as Yennefer made it look. She could set a whole town ablaze with just the touch of her fingertips, effortlessly. She carried so much power within her, and she was in charge of it, not the other way around like in Ciri's case. Her own powers seemed to control her, instead, and barely behaved when she needed them to. She wasn't sure if she would ever be able to wield her magic like Yennefer did.

"You all say that I have so much power, that I'm so special," Ciri murmured, wrapping her arms around herself tiredly. She looked down on the ground. "And yet, I barely see any of it. When I screamed and that tree fell, that was just an accident. I can't do it on purpose."

"Yes, you can," Yennefer stepped closer. She brushed Ciri's hair back from her face, pulling it into a quick braid at the back of her head. Ciri bit her lip when she realized her childish pout was fully revealed. Yennefer only smiled at it.

"I know you have it in you, Ciri. We all do. And I'm not gonna lie to you, I am also in the dark about the full extent of your powers. But we do have similarities, and that's what we need to work on. I will help you with whatever I can."

"Geralt finally taught me some sword skills," Ciri smiled. "You know how long I've been begging him to? It sucks that it took me revealing I have Elder blood for him to realize I wasn't a helpless little flower."

"I don't think it's just about that. Geralt is a bit overprotective of you, it makes sense. But it has become clear for him that he cannot keep any more secrets from you. And if we want to survive in this world, we have to rely on our own strength."

"So, you say there's another reason he opened up," Ciri smirked. She looked up at Yennefer, and chuckled when she saw the confused look on her face. "What, no idea what that reason could be?"

"Absolutely none," Yennefer scoffed. The tell-tale flush on her cheeks made Ciri grin wider.

"Oh, come on. As if you can't tell. Geralt is in love with you. And Jaskier, too. And you're also in love with the both of them."

Making a mighty drepima splutter and scramble for words while blushing deep red was no small feat, so Ciri felt immensely proud upon seeing how Yennefer's brain stopped working for a good minute.

"That's... How can you tell?"

"It's obvious. When are you guys admitting it to each other?"

"Well," Yennefer gave her a small smile, "Jaskier and I may have kissed the other day."

Ciri squealed. Finally! It was so painfully obvious that despite all the banter and teasing, the fae and the witch were head over heels for each other.

"How was it?"

"Okay, can we return to your training?" Yennefer rolled her eyes, but the smile never disappeared from her face. Ciri smirked. Those three were so painfully obvious. The deep connection between Yennefer and Jaskier was evident from the start, then Jaskier wasn't exactly subtle about his attraction to Geralt, and while Geralt tried be subtle about his own feelings for the fae, Ciri often caught him staring at him affectionately. Yennefer did need a lot of time to open up, but soon enough, it became clear she got attached to Geralt, and vice versa.

Geralt wasn't as much of a lone wolf as he claimed himself to be. He loved his witcher brothers, and he loved Ciri. Deep inside his heart, he did long for a connection. Ciri was happy that it seemed like he was finally getting it, in quite large amounts lately.

She was happy about it for her own reasons as well- she felt a bond to these creatures since the day they've showed up here, and Ciri never wanted to lose them. It seemed like they were truly turning into a family, as Ciri hoped they would be.

"You know, I'm really happy you guys get along so well," Ciri said, smiling up at Yennefer. "It means a lot to me, after everything."

She bit down on her lip as the memories flooded her brain.

"I lost everything. Everyone. I thought I would never have a family again. And then Geralt came, and yes, he can be a bit weird, but he loves me. And I love him. And then, you guys came along, and now I have a family again."

"You'll always have a family with us," Yennefer promised her softly. "I'm sorry for what you had to go through. All that suffering isn't meant for a child."

"Or an adult," Ciri pointed out. "You did not deserve what you had to go through, either. But things are gonna be okay now, Yennefer. You will also always have a family here."

Yennefer reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes were a little misty as she smiled at Ciri.

"Now it's really time we continued your training," she said quietly. Ciri shook her head.

"Not yet. I wanna tell you one more thing. I know what you think of yourself, that you're some scary, destructive monster, but that's not true. You're incredible, Yennefer. Your powers are wonderful, and special. You inspire me all the time. I hope I'll be like you, one day."

Yennefer blinked at her, her lips twitching. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, staring at Ciri with a mix of bewilderment and something else - hope, maybe. The hope that she could be a beloved presence, instead of a feared one. That she could mean something to someone.

For Ciri, she was slowly turning into a mother figure - something she's missed out on. Well, her grandmother was there, but she didn't have a lot of time to spend with her, with her royal duties and the many battles she needed to fight and win. Ciri has been aching for a gentle, motherly love - and while Yennefer's love was often tough, rough at the edges and unpolished, what with her never having had to take care of a child before, what with her living most of her life in utter loneliness, her love was very much needed, and appreciated. She was another lifeline Ciri could hold onto.

Ciri squeaked softly when Yennefer pulled her into a crushing hug. She wound her arms around Ciri, holding her close. Ciri happily burrowed into her arms. Yennefer's skin was colder than Jaskier's, colder than Geralt's, but Ciri still found the warmth she needed in that hug.

"This means a lot to me," Yennefer admitted against Ciri's hair quietly. "That you would look at me that way."

"I'm being serious," Ciri promised. She pulled back slightly to look up at Yennefer. "I thought my world ended when I found out about my heritage. I didn't know what to do with it. With that knowledge, and that power... I felt lost. But you're here. And you're helping me, and you're being so patient, even though I'm a shit student."

"You're not," Yennefer laughed softly. She gently patted Ciri's cheek. "I promised you I would make sure you'll learn to control these powers. And I'm fully intent on keeping that promise."

She gently turned Ciri back towards the tree trunk. She helped Ciri keep her arms straight by a supporting touch on her elbow.

"Relax, and try to shut everything out," Yennefer told her. "Don't be afraid of the power that is within you, but also don't underestimate it. Try to find a healthy balance. It's a part of you."

Ciri closed her eyes again, trying to loosen her muscles. She willed her brain to focus on only her inner voice and that deep rumbling of the magic within her core. She let it flood her cells, pump away in her blood. She faintly heard Yennefer's encouraging words through the haze that slowly filled her brain.

There was only a flicker of light at her fingertips, just a tiny bit of warmth - yet, Yennefer looked at her so proudly, as if it was a huge achievement.

"You're getting there," Yennefer told her with a smile. "You're learning to bring the fire to the surface. That's not easy. And you had better control of your screams last time. Only thing you have to do now is believe that you have it in you."

Ciri smiled, feeling her heart flutter with happiness. Indeed, it felt easier to get even that flicker out - maybe she wasn't a lost cause. Maybe she could truly learn to control her powers, instead of letting them control her.

Speaking of which, she believed this was the perfect time to ask Yennefer a question.

"You said our powers are mostly similar because of the link in our heritage," she started quietly, "do drepimas have visions, too?"

Yennefer arched an eyebrow at her. "Visions?"

"Yes. Weird dreams."

"Everyone has weird dreams, Ciri. And it makes perfect sense you would have nightmares about the things that happened to you. I have them, too. So does Jaskier. And I bet even Geralt does."

"I don't just dream about Cintra. I used to, but it's different, lately. I think... I think I'm dreaming about the future."

She really didn't like the way Yennefer's cheeks paled, nor the way the obvious concern filled her eyes.

"And what do you see?" Yennefer asked. Ciri swallowed thickly.

"An unfamiliar place. Metal bars. You and Jaskier injured. I'm screaming for Geralt, but he never comes. And as I scream, everything falls apart around me and everyone gets hurt, and..."

Her throat constricted around the words as she relived the nightmares. Yennefer cupped her cheeks soothingly.

"What makes you think they're visions, Ciri?"

"I don't know," she admitted weakly, "but I'm scared they are. And last night, I..."

She took a deep breath as she saw the man's face in front of her eyes again. A man that she didn't know, and who was yet so familiar. Someone who should have radiated warmth, but his heart was cold as ice. He was dangerous.

"I dreamt about a man. I don't know who he is but it's still like I've met him before. And I think he wants to hurt me. Us."

"Ciri, it's okay," Yennefer cooed. Ciri didn't even realize she was crying until she felt Yennefer wiping her tears away. "We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise. Let's hope these are just senseless nightmares. Anything is possible, you know? When you have power like this, it can sometimes mess with your head."

She took Ciri into her arms again. Ciri sighed and propped her chin up on her shoulder, staring at the tree trunk.

She hoped Yennefer was right. And if she wasn't... well, then Ciri hoped she would get full access to her powers in time to protect herself and her family.

Maybe one day Geralt would get used to this feeling, that warmth inside his chest - this giddy, all-encompassing sensation that filled him almost every single day lately. It was still so new, and he still grappled with trying to describe it. Maybe the best word for it was love, a word that he thought he forgot a long time ago. Yet, it was definitely love he felt for Ciri, and it only got stronger the longer he spent taking care of her.

And it was very possibly love he felt for the two creatures he hosted in his hut. That was why his heart beat so fast when he watched as Yennefer trained with Ciri. She was so gentle with her, not too soft but patient and caring. She smiled so brightly at Geralt's daughter, with so much pride in her eyes. They laughed together, and it was the sweetest sound Geralt has ever heard.

And that was why he smiled uncontrollably when he caught a whiff of sweet cinnamon scent, and felt Jaskier's body radiate heat next to him.

"She seems like a really good teacher, doesn't she?" Jaskier asked, his own smile matching Geralt's. "Who would have thought!"

"Ciri really trusts her," Geralt said. "And I trust her, too."

"That's a big deal," Jaskier said softly. "Since, you know, you were so apprehensive in the beginning. Not that I blame you for it. But I know how hard it is for you to trust people, especially when it comes to Ciri. It means a lot that you opened up to Yennefer like that. She's clearly important to you."

"And you," Geralt added, turning to Jaskier. "You're important to me, too."

The fae blushed softly. "Why, that's a very lovely thing to say."

"I do mean it."

"I know," Jaskier replied, smiling up at Geralt from under his lashes.

Geralt looked down on Jaskier's stomach. It was growing bigger every day. He only had a couple of months to go now. Geralt felt a strange excitement over getting to meet Jaskier's baby soon.

"Are you feeling comfortable?" He asked, still looking at Jaskier's stomach where the fae now was resting a gentle hand. "Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you," Jaskier smiled. "I'm feeling perfect, actually. You know, it's a whole lot different, going through a pregnancy like this."

"Like what?"

"Surrounded by people I love."

There was so much genuine emotion in what he said - in everything he said and did, to be honest. Jaskier wore his heart on his sleeve, forming a perfect antonym to Geralt and Yennefer's more closed-off personalities. Geralt and Yennefer fit together, because they were so similar, and Jaskier fit in with them, because he was different. He completed them.

"We're here for you," Geralt replied earnestly. "Whatever you need, you'll get it."

"Even a giant cake with fifteen layers, dripping with chocolate?"

"I guess," Geralt laughed. "Whatever."

"Just kidding," Jaskier laughed with him, gently elbowing him in the side. He turned his attention back to Ciri and Yennefer. "So, I assume, we're all sticking together from now on. Does that mean that if we ever had to leave this place - and I've overheard you talking about it with Lambert -, you're taking us with you?"

"Yes. Of course. When winter comes, I wanna take Ciri to Kaer Morhen. The witcher keep."

"And if something happens in the meantime?"

"I'll figure something out," Geralt promised. "Winter is only a couple months away. Until then, we stay put. I used to think being on the road constantly was the only way to avoid danger, but I changed my mind since Ciri came along. She's safer in hiding."

"And practicing her chaos with Yen. And I also heard you thought her some sword skills, as well."

Geralt smiled at the memory. "She's good with a sword. She's an extraordinary kid."

"With an extraordinary father," Jaskier told him. The smile he gave Geralt was so beautiful, the witcher had to look away for a second.

He only turned back when he saw Jaskier fiddling with something from the corner of his eyes. Geralt watched curiously as Jaskier took a crushed, dry buttercup into his hand. He caressed it with his finger gently, his hand emitting a soft glow. The dead flower returned to life under Jaskier's touch, its browned leaves becoming harsh green once again. The sadly hanging flowers popped up again, coloring with a bright, happy yellow. Its scent picked up, sweet and carefree, more intense than before it dried out- almost as if it was grateful that the fae brought it back to life.

Jaskier noticed Geralt staring at him. He smiled brightly. Then, he reached out, and gently tucked the renewed flower behind Geralt's ear, into his hair.

"Pretty," Jaskier said with a happy sigh. Geralt swallowed. He never had been called pretty in his life, not with his giant, broad built, his scars and his unnerving, yellow eyes. Not with his unruly white hair and his unnatural, menacing presence.

He should have felt embarrassed about it. Instead, he felt his cheeks flush as he smiled.

He wrapped an arm around Jaskier's shoulder and pulled him close, letting him rest his weight against him. Jaskier put his head on his shoulder with a happy sigh, his own arm snaking around Geralt's waist, holding him close.

Geralt rested his cheek atop Jaskier's head. He inhaled his sweet scent, and he smiled. He remembered when this scent first hit his nose, faint and suspicious, mixing with Yennefer's exotic lilac and gooseberry scent. Geralt still remembered how confused that wild perfume made him, not yet knowing that the creatures Ciri was hiding in her room would one day mean so much to him.

His life had changed so much in the past few months, Geralt barely recognized it. But it did not scare him anymore. In fact, it filled him with so much happiness. Maybe that made him a strange witcher, but he did not mind.

#geraskefer #geraskier #yennskier #yenralt #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #ciri #the world is yours if you seek the good

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aloneinthehellfire · 2 years

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AloneInTheHellfire's Masterlist

About Me

fic recs

currently written for: steve harrington, eddie munson, robin buckley, billy hargrove

Stranger Things

MAIN SERIES

Raining Hellfire 4 Seasons, Extras [on hiatus until ST5]

[an episode by episode story incorporating fem!reader]

pairings: eddie x reader, eventual steve x reader

Since moving to Hawkins just two years ago, you found that nothing ever really happened in this town. That was until the day you felt your life change. From meeting a boy to Will Byers’ disappearance, you could just feel that 1983 was going to be different.

The question is, was it changing for better… or for worse?

Fortress Of Memories 14 parts [completed]

pairing: eddie x reader | multiple povs

Y/n Byers and Eddie Munson were killed in the battle. Vecna had claimed their lives and murdered them right in front of their friends’ eyes. They died heroes, saving the town that hated them both. And now, months later, the first New Year since Hawkins’ destruction had come around. But no one celebrates. Instead, they are entering hell to finally stop Vecna. They were prepared for everything. Or… so they thought…

STEVE HARRINGTON

SERIES

Gates Of Hell 19 chapters [ongoing]

Hawkins swarmed with monsters, quarantined from the rest of the world, few survivors. Steve Harrington and Y/n Hopper are forced to survive together, knowing that despite their hatred, they need each other to make it out of Hawkins alive.

Eight Months 5 chapters [completed]

Y/n went missing at the end of spring. A note was left explaining that after her father, Bob Newby, died, she just couldn’t bear to stay in Hawkins. The others were shocked but after gaining no leads on where she could be, they had to accept that she was gone. But when summer rolls in and Hawkins starts getting scary, Steve and Dustin find themselves venturing into a Russian base and uncover more secrets than they bargained for.

ONE SHOTS

Snippet: When Blue Meets Yellow 807 words

Here’s a sneak peek of a ST3 story I am currently working on. I really wanted to write a Steve x Reader story so let me know if it’s something you’d want :) And I promise the story is much more interesting than just two idiots in love

Missing 2.8k words

Straight after the Battle Of Starcourt, panic was in the air. The mall was going up in flames, another Hawkins cover-up, as the kids reunited with their families. Everyone was on-edge, especially since they barely escaped with their lives. Their minds were running a hundred miles per hour as they couldn’t focus on one thought. But not Steve. All he could think was that in all the chaos, you were no where to be found.

Senior Prom 2.4k words

20th April 1985 was the scariest night of Steve Harrington’s life. He may have battled with demodogs and abusive step-brothers, but the Senior Prom would really put his nerves to the test; he was about to confess his feelings to a girl he had taken for granted for too long.

EDDIE MUNSON

SERIES

It's You and Me, Always 10 chapters [completed]

You and Eddie have been best friends since elementary school and you both assumed that friendship was all you were destined for. However, when you both experience Chrissy’s supernatural death, you are pulled into the secrets beneath Hawkins and find that your feelings for eachother aren’t what they seem.

ONE SHOTS

The Crawl 3.5k words

Hawkins had fallen from Vecna’s curse, taking friends and family with it. They claimed it to be an earthquake but you knew better; you had seen it all unfold in the Upside Down itself. You had watched the boy you loved die in your arms, leaving him where he lay in the chaos of an escape. The guilt tore at you for days. He was gone. At least, that what’s you thought…

Freak's Best Friend 3.4k words

Eddie Munson was being hunted. After Chrissy Cunningham’s death at his trailer, the town had named him a murderer. He didn’t do it, of course. There were supernatural forces at bay that no one but a small group of people knew about. But that didn’t stop Jason Carver and his basketball teammates from taking matters into their own hands. Eddie stayed hidden, much to the party’s request, until Jason found the ultimate leverage to use against the ‘freak’; you.

REQUESTS

Perfect Is A Feeling (eddie x chrissy fic) 1.3k words

Years after the battle of Hawkins, Chrissy and Eddie were lucky to have survived. They celebrated with a date… and then another and another until it felt like a lifetime had passed. Now, they’re married, living in a house of their own with a 3 year old daughter. Chrissy never imagined she could be this lucky.

In Love And Grief 5k words

El Hopper was unsure to her older sister’s behaviour. After the fall of Hawkins, you had been avoiding everyone, and they knew it was because of Eddie. His death had shaken your core. But El never truly understood until she caught a glimpse of how powerful grief really is.

ROBIN BUCKLEY

SERIES

The Pariahs That Saved The World 7 Chapters [ongoing]

When Vecna comes to town, Robin and her friends need all the help they can get in the final battle. The gang searches for an old friend she's never met before. But what Robin didn't know, was that the help would catch her attention in more ways than one.

BILLY HARGROVE

REQUESTS

I Wanna Be Yours 2.2k words

Billy Hargrove has been dating Y/n Wheeler for a few glorious months. Considering their friends, they decided to keep it a secret. His friends didn’t like her. Her friends didn’t like him. And neither of them were upset about that deal as long as they were together. But when things start to test this theory, Billy has other plans…

Greatest Fear 2.3k words

After his fight at the Byers household, Billy Hargrove has only one place to go; to your trailer.

351 notes · View notes

kitchenisking · 2 years

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April Fic Rec

Its that time guys!!!!!!!! Happy April fools to everyone, though this is not a joke, another 10 fics coming your way! I hope everyone is enjoying the spring weather that coming our way.

Also I am in awe of the responses that Im getting for the recs. never in a million years did I think so many people would be liking and reblogging them😌😌 Love you guys!❤️

Permanently Marked by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemryn) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6448, sterek)

“That maybe the glances,” he peered back into Stiles’ eyes, “the touches,” he ran his fingers gently down the skin of Stiles’ forearm until his skin erupted in goosebumps, “the terrible flirting...” Derek’s lips twitched and Stiles’ mind reeled with all of the horrible pick-up lines and praises he had thrown in Derek’s direction more times than he could really count.

“Yeah?” Stiles whispered back. He felt himself leaning forward and before he could stop himself, the palm of his free hand slid up to Derek’s chest, his fingertips resting on the collarbone that jutted out of Derek’s skin as if teasing Stiles.

“...That maybe it meant you liked me, too,” Derek finished as he pressed his palm over Stiles’ hand.

And If I Die Before I Wake by consciousness_streaming - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 60411, sterek)

When Stiles wakes up on his eighteenth birthday from a chaste dream about Derek Hale he doesn't think it's a big deal. But when he wakes up the next few days to the same dream, he knows something is going on. And he's going to get to the bottom of it. Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. More than three is just torture.

Year-Round by cheshiredog - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 51382, sterek)

1950s Sterek farmer!Derek and college!Stiles AU. TW FOR HOMOPHOBIA (1950s, duh) (its such a good fic🥰)

Getting Back Up by Hella_Meyers - (Rating: Mature, Words: 31004, sterek)

Stiles still hadn't mentally recovered from the Nogitsune and the Wild Hunt. While working for the FBI in Virginia, an undercover job led him to a breakdown. He was away from home, he was alone, and all his demons came rushing to the surface.

He went home to Beacon Hills, settled down with a certain Sourwolf, and never looked back.

***

Or, the one where Stiles comes back home to a Derek Hale surprise and finally plants roots.

Sound of Settling by SilverFlameAlchemist - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 30940, sterek)

“Is she a mermaid? Did you find a mermaid on your doorstep? Why didn’t you just say so, man, what—who is she? Why are mermaids turning up at your place with bullet wounds in the first place?” “She’s not a mermaid,” Derek explained (far too) calmly. “She’s a siren.”

A Bro's Guide to Surviving an Assassination Attempt by TuppingLiberty - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 30818, sterek)

In college, Stiles stumbled into a gig on YouTube as an activist for supernatural rights. Now in his early twenties, he loves the work he does - that is, until someone wants to kill him for it.

Enter Agent Derek Hale and his team, who are trying to catch a killer, and keep Stiles safe.

Will be trying to update once a week. Tags will change. See chapter notes for relevant tags for each chapter. Please note that the E rating is for violence as well as smut, although there will be plenty of smut.

the promise of... by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 618, sterek)

Stiles is fuming—furious!—as he paces in front of his bed. Another fight with another big bad, and Derek throwing himself into danger before the pack could arrive...again!

His window creaks open, letting in the cool night air. Derek climbs through, shirt still torn and bloody from the fight. Stiles’s blood boils at the sight.

How Derek Got His Groove Back by WhoNatural - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4300, sterek)

Cora kicks him under the table. “Do you have the hots for the baby lawyer?” she hisses urgently, and Derek blinks at her, feeling his face heat.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s young enough to be my--”

“Younger brother,” she cuts in, and shakes her head. “Age difference excuses do not fly with me. Are you gonna ask him out? Derek, you need to do something about that.”

“About what?” he says, frowning, watching as Stiles sits down at a table with a group of older, lawyer-types.

“The fact that you’re both about one drink away from sex in some janitor’s closet.”

The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 79151, sterek)

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.

Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.

For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

[Update: I'm stating here, because some people aren't reading the author note at the beginning, this story was inspired by/based on Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' Hawksong]

Give you that thing you can't even imagine by LunaCanisLupus_22 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10999, sterek)

The omegas came out onto the stage next, and Derek did his best to smile and shake hands with enough polite distance as possible, to avoid giving the impressionable ones ideas.

Or the one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he's about to find out he's very, very wrong.

#sterek #stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #derek hale #ficrec #fanfiction #kitcheniskingficrecs

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