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keilemlucent · 3 years

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(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧ (minors do not interact)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating,

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside.

It is easier this way.

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe.

Acid stings your throat for hours.

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.)

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

(You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward!

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips.

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks.

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting.

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom.

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

#salem writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw dark content #tw yandere #tw vomit #it's vomit from illness btw #tw self injury #please lemme know if i miss a tag #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #i might delete this or repost to my side blog sdklfjla #we will see #for now it is here

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hellsenthero · 3 years

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Collapse.

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X FemReader

@leniram1890 Requested: For the request,i was thinking of Bucky x non avenger reader where reader saved Bucky from falling debris/ heavy object when Bucky unexpectedly is not in his senses that day,

Warnings/Themes: Language, violence, blood, fluff. (1.9K+ Words.)

*Masterlist*

----------

New York was a city filled with possibilities. But Y/N had never thought one of those possibilities was being destroyed and plundered by a secret organization. She didn’t know who was infiltrating the city, but she knew they were bad. Their dark uniforms with a red skull and six tentacles only further proved that. No one that worked for the good of all people would have a skull on their uniform.

Before the screams of terror began and shots rang through the air Y/N had been sitting in a quaint little cafe at the corner. Sunlight shone in through the full windows, warming her in her seat as she drank her iced coffee. People walked by outside, some racing around in a hurry, others walking slowly, peacefully. She watched them go by her. The occasional loud conversation or honk of a car horn could be heard even inside the coffee shop, but she didn’t mind. It was New York after all, there was never complete silence in the city.

Y/N had just finished her drink when the terror began.

It was the people freezing in the middle of the street she noticed first. They all looked towards the same direction, some bringing up their hands to shield their eyes from the sun. Y/N looked to the left, through another window in the cafe, but couldn’t find what had grasped the full attention of the New York citizens. Even the man running towards a yellow taxi in the road stopped and stared off into the distance. The few other customers in the cafe with her got up and looked out the windows. Y/N took the last sip of your coffee before moving towards the window herself, eager for a closer look. That was when the first scream pierced the air.

---

Bucky was watching a movie Steve suggested to him at the Avengers Compound. It was, one of the classics I’ve been told to catch up on, Steve had said. The movie was called E.T and Bucky could honestly say he liked it. He’d just gotten to the part where the kid was hiding the alien in his closet when an alarm began to blare through the compound.

Bucky jerked up from his seat and ran from the room. He’d just turned the corner when Steve nearly ran into him.

“Suit up.” Steve ordered as he passed Bucky, no doubt on his way to find his own uniform.

It only took Bucky a minute to suit up. The routine second nature to him now. He raced outside towards the Quinjet, finding Steve, Nat, Sam and Tony already in the jet and talking in strained voices. Clint got on the jet a second after Bucky and Wanda and Vision two seconds after him.

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands together as he went to the front of the ship and began pressing buttons. “Let’s go.”

“What are we responding to?” Bucky asked as he took a seat. Steve turned to face him, a shadow passed over his gaze as their eyes met.

“Hydra has infiltrated the city. It seems they’re done playing around behind the scenes and have gone for a more...direct approach.” Bucky’s metal fist clenched at his side, his metal plates whirling. “Our goal is to take out as many operatives as you can and protect the citizens.” The team nodded their heads as a collective group.

From the front of the jet Tony called out to the team, “We’re landing in two minutes.”

---

Guns fired off like a show of fireworks. Minute after minute, second after second shouts and bangs filled the air. Y/N raced through the street, away from the soldiers in black. Above her a dark jet lowered itself towards the ground. Y/N was only mildly surprised to see the Avengers hop out and begin fighting.

If Y/N had learned anything from the news then it was that when the Avengers arrive there will always be carnage in their wake. If possible Y/N pushed her legs to run even faster, away from the damage and death raining down on the city.

She had just turned a corner when a blur of black and silver went flying past her, through the glass window of a furniture shop to her right. A scream tore out of her throat as she came to a halt.

The building swayed, ready to collapse, and a pained groan sounded from within the structure. Against her better judgment Y/N turned, staring into the building for only a moment, before going inside in an attempt at helping the person inside.

---

Bucky wasn’t prepared to see so many Hydra soldiers. Men marching in uniforms of black, their red badges standing out like blood against the fabric. Their faces were the worst though. Not all, but many had the dead gaze Bucky knew all too well. The quick, meticulous, almost robotic movements that only came from having their minds wiped. Bucky could taste the burning acid of pain in the back of his throat. He wanted to throw up.

Steve gave him a hard shove before racing into the destruction. A firm reminder to get his head straight, to start fighting. With a deep breath Bucky shot off his gun, instantly killing a Hydra soldier.

Bucky didn’t know how long that went on for, the shooting, the killing. It all blurred together. But still, he wasn’t in his right mind. His past memories created a fog in his head. So when a Hydra soldier came up behind him, a gun in hand, Bucky didn’t realize until it was too late.

Or nearly too late. If it wasn’t for Wanda throwing him through the air with her scarlet power, he would have been dead. The gun aimed directly at his head. As it was he went flying into a building, crashing through glass and wood and structural pillars.

It was a never ending blur of pain and flying and red and black.

---

Y/N prayed she wasn’t going into the unstable building only to be met with one of the men attacking the city. She should have turned away, got out, but something pulled her further inside. The structural pillars of the large shop were broken in half. Only one remained standing, the sole pillar holding up the shop.

Another groan sounded and Y/N called out. “Hello?” Another groan answered her and Y/N went further inside. One eye stayed on the pillar, praying for it to not give out while she was still inside. “Do you ne-” Y/N’s next question was cut off by the sway of the building. Dust and rubble rained down from the ceiling, the loud groans and creaks of the building filled the air. Y/N went to turn around, to head back out into the sunlit, destroyed city, but it was too late.

The last pillar gave out.

The ceiling came crashing down. Y/N dove beneath a table, her hands protecting her head, her knees tight to her chest. She thought she heard someone scream a man’s name from outside but it was washed away by the great crashes of the building.

The first thought in Y/N’s mind when the crashes came to a stop, and the debris settled, was that she was dead. But the pain of rubble pressing down on her quickly reminded her that she wasn’t. That was she was alive and stuck in a collapsed building.

With another person.

With a groan Y/N crawled out from beneath the broken table. Blood covered her palms and knees as her limbs scrapped against debris. Dust filled the air like a heavy fog, threatening to choke her.

“Hello?” Y/N called out as loudly as she could. The groan of pain that answered her seemed to lift an invisible weight off of her. Whoever had gone flying through the glass window only moments ago was still alive. For now. The dust began to settle and Y/N’s vision clearned. Ahead of her she could spot shining silver. It was most likely debris, it certainly couldn’t be a person, but still Y/N crawled towards it.

---

His mind fogged. He could hear a woman’s voice, calling out, but Bucky could do nothing more than groan in answer. If he made it out of there, wherever he was, he would be having quite the talk with Wanda.

Debris layed heavy on Bucky, threatening to crush him to death. His movements were painful and limited, but still he tried to escape from beneath the crushing weight.

Blood dripped from a wound on his head and his ribs screamed in protest as he did his best to crawl out from the rubble. But his best wasn’t enough. His mind was so foggy he didn’t know up from down, left from right, it all blurred together. He was nearly ready to stop his struggle and go to sleep like his mind begged him to do before the voice sounded again.

Soft, sweet, gentle, it reached his ears and Bucky knew he was going to be okay.

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be evil.” Bucky could hear the woman’s voice clearer now. A heavy weight lifted free from his back and Bucky groaned in relief. “Shit, are you okay?” Bucky looked up and was met with beautiful Y/E/C eyes. “That’s dumb, you’re obviously not okay.” The woman said more to herself than to Bucky. Bucky reached out a hand, grasping onto the woman his eyes surveyed her from head to toe.

“You’re hurt.” He gasped out as his eyes locked on the scarlet blood on her hands.

“So are you.” The woman answered.

Bucky smiled. He hadn’t smiled in a long time and he never would have guessed that a strange woman and a collapsed building would do him in, but he smiled.

“I think I’m supposed to be the one saving people.” Bucky said and he crawled out from the last piece of rubble holding him down. His bearings beame less blurry, his mind focused on the building, the rubble, the woman. Direction began to make sense again.

The woman smiled right back at him. “Yet here I am, saving you.”

Bucky must have been in heaven. Dark, bloody, painful heaven, but heaven nonetheless.

“What’s your name, knight?” Bucky asked as he and the woman worked together to be free of the building. The closer they got to their exit, the more Bucky could hear someone calling his name. No--someone’s. Steve and Wanda.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” The woman answered. “And yours?”

“Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” Finally, they got out of the building. Bucky was met with a relieved Steve and Wanda. The former smiled and gave him a pat on the back, but still Bucky’s gaze remained on Y/N.

“It’s all over.” Steve told Bucky.

Bucky didn’t respond back, instead he said to Y/N, “I think you need to be looked at.”

Y/N nodded her head. “I think you’re right.” Bucky smiled and wrapped an arm around Y/N.

“Come on, I’ll bring you to the jet.”

The pair walked off and Wanda and Steve remained standing outside the ruined building, confused and surprised.

“What-” Wanda began before Steve cut her off.

“I don’t know.” Steve mumbled. “I don’t know.”

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infjsnightmare · 3 years

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Wedding Aesthetics: Chuuya

A/N: Finally got around to writing another one of these! Chuuya's wedding is going to pull out all the stops! This man is going to make sure his S/O and himself feel like goddamn celebrities on their wedding day. Chuuya is picking red and gold for his wedding colors. Red is a color of passion and love and wine. Gold is opulence and luxury, and he is going to make sure his S/O feels like a million bucks every single day. He would go with traditional wedding vows, but his eyes would be basically piercing into his S/O's soul as he said them, a passionate fire in them that is hard to miss. His S/O would probably burn themselves trying to match his desire.

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

If his S/O is fem: Chuuya is trying to show off his S/O on their wedding day. He wants everyone to know how sexy they are and that they are HIS. He would want a fem S/O in something sexy, form fitting and it is probably ridiculously expensive. She would be stunning and he wants her to feel absolutely confident in herself. Since he wants it form fitting, it would either be a fit and flare or mermaid style dress. Gold or pearl beaded details mixed with lace draw all the eyes to her. Chuuya is a passionate man and I think he would absolutely love a plunging neckline on his S/O, but he is also a jealous man and his S/O probably kept that detail of the dress a secret until the big day. His face is scarlet and matches his hair when he first sees her at the alter.

If his S/O is masc: Chuuya would like his S/O in gold and white so that he, himself, can wear red. His S/O tux will be well-tailored to their body with gold accents for them to look like the pair they are. Again, he wants sexy, confident and luxurious. Visually he likes small details added to the tux so his eyes can explore around his husband's body; gold buttons, intricate cufflinks, pocket detailing. He knows how attractive his husband is and so will everyone else.

Chuuya's Clothes: We all know Chuuya has style and his wedding day is no exception. He'll have his hat off for the ceremony, but it is coming right back for the reception. Chuuya will be in red. It's a color he knows he looks good in and that will play up his cerulean eyes. He'll want something tapered and fitted, which helps him look taller. He'd go with a deep maroon or burgundy shade of red, so that he doesn't stand out too much, but he wants to be as equally impressive as his S/O. He would make sure certain details are gold to match his S/O, like his tie, buttons and lapel chain. He also went to get mani-pedi with his S/O the day before the wedding and got both of their hair professionally done for the occasion. They will look like the power couple that they are.

Bouquet/Boutonniere: Chuuya is going for passion, romance, and red. What would be better than roses for that? I also think roses are something that Chuuya would have been giving his S/O for a long time, so it would also be a staple to their relationship. He and his S/O might have even saved some of the dried roses from throughout their relationship and used them as the flower petals for the walkway. He wants his S/O's bouquet to have a tone of volume and he loves the dramatic effect a cascading bouquet gives. The boutonnieres would have matching gold accents in keeping with their theme and if his S/O is masc, they would have more roses on their boutonniere than on Chuuya's.

The Rings: If anyone can pick out a red and gold ring that still looks stylish, it's Chuuya. He picked out an expensive ring that compliments his style as well as his S/O. He likes the designs that loop around each other. It reminds him of how he and his S/O hold each other when their at their worst and even after his hot temper gets the better of him, they always find their way back to each other. He is grateful for how his S/O makes him feel like he belongs.

The Venue: Chuuya wants his S/O to have an amazing view on their wedding. He would love to have something overlooking the see, making them feel like they are on top of the world. I also think he would like the big windows and the idea that onlookers could marvel at his S/O but they're separated so they couldn't come and interrupt their day. It's doubtful that any onlooker would ever try though, since the mafia will be there, especially with Mori himself in attendance. Everyone who is supposed to be there, will be well-protected. I think Chuuya would like a high-end venue, but he would definitely read all the reviews beforehand to make sure that everything would be as he expected. Honestly, only the best for his S/O.

The Decorations: Dramatic and Romantic. That's the vibe Chuuya wants for his wedding day. Rose petals will be scattered all over. There WILL be red wine fountains and dark chocolate fountains at the reception. And not just any red wine fountain. He is having it custom made to be similar to the free wine fountain in Italy. He wants the guests to have the most memorable experience. No other wedding will compare to his S/O wedding. I think he would like dim lighting but with lots of candlelight at each table, illuminating his S/O face in a warm golden glow.

The Wedding Cake: What Chuuya lacks in height he makes up for in cake. He will get an extremely tall cake with a lot of layers. He can't have the other decorations overshadowing it, so it will be placed in a central area where everyone can see him and his S/O during the cake cutting. He will go with whatever flavor is his S/O's favorite since he cares more about them having the time of their life than about his own tastes. He will make sure that the cake is cleanly decorated and not too gaudy. Again, he wants roses to be everywhere possible, so they will show up on the cake too.

After the Wedding: Chuuya is riding off with his S/O the back of his motorcycle to grab their bags and head to the airport. Tachihara wanted to attach wine bottles to the back of Chuuya's bike, but was stopped by Kouyou, who instead tied beautiful gold and red ribbons along the handles and a few other places. Chuuya didn't tell his S/O where they would be headed, opting to keep it a surprise, but they are headed to the French Riviera to have a week full of romance and each other. Chuuya also brought along their handheld games for the days when his S/O felt like staying in and just playing against him.

#chuuya wedding headcanons #chuuya bsd #wedding headcanons #aesthetic

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dragoneggos · 3 years

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Fanfic Year in Review

@captain-aralias thank you so much for these questions!! this was so much fun to do, and such a nice way to end off my first proper year writing fic! <3

my fics from 2021:

- A Thousand Words- Teen, 15k

- A Dream is a Wish- Teen, 17k

- The Last Four Years- Teen, 5k

- We’ll Go From There- Teen, 17k

- Initial Impressions- Teen, 6k

- Meet Me in the Middle- Teen 4k

- Oh Those Summer Nights- Teen, 5k

- Soft Skin and Scarlet Skies- Teen, 4k

- The Fabric of Scars- Teen, 4k

- i grew up at the top of a tower. with you.- Teen, 3k

- Draw a Line in the Sand- Teen, 5k

- door to door (please let me in)- Teen, 2k

- constant as the stars above- Teen, 27k

- as long as you love me so- Teen, 36k

so it seems every single fic I write I class as teen, which honestly is probably slightly overcautious as a couple of these could probbaly be classed as lower- if I didn’t swear so much anyway. what I mostly love to write atm is fluffy soft fics, so this makes sense.

14 fics, with a grand total of 152,482 words. Wow.

Best/Worst Title?

maybe because it’s still fresh in my mind, but I still have a massive soft spot for my Carry On Countdown fic, because the name fit so perfectly and didn’t take me an age to think up. every time I hear that song now (which has been a fair amount over the last week), i feel all warm thinking of snowbaz, and that’s been so lovely. I do also like ‘Soft Skin and Scarlet Skies’, mostly just because I’m proud of myself for coming up with something pretty and alliterative.

worst is probably ‘Draw a Line in the Sand’ because on reflection it doesn’t really make that much sense, except being a beach reference. Or ‘door to door’, mostly because I feel like it’s too clunky.

Best/worst summary?

worst is definitely ‘A Thousand Words’- I feel like it’s obvious how new I still was to fic writing and it just doesn’t work well. it doesn’t really fit the fic and it just feels awkward and out of place.

most of my summaries now just take my favourite written lines from the fic because it’s easy (cop out because I hate writing summaries), but my favourite is probably ‘A Dream is a Wish’. I think I picked a pretty quote and summarised the whole thing fairly well, which is what I mostly struggle with when doing summaries.

Best/worst first line?

I think my blunt ones are probably my best- ‘Oh Those Summer Nights’: Simon Snow is standing outside the Mage’s office and I also have a soft spot for ‘The Last Four Years’: My drink tastes like shit. I like starting with a bit of a punch, and I think these ones probably worked the best.

Reading it back, the worst feels like ‘Meet Me in the Middle’: The bed is too small for us both, my legs are all tangled with Baz’s, and Baz is taking up 90% of the duvet for himself, but despite this, I’m deeply asleep when Penny bursts into our room at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. Which is a shame because I like the imagery, but I just think there’s too much going on at once.

Best/worst last line?

best is ‘Initial Impressions’: I squeeze his hand in mine, and nothing else in the universe matters.

worst is ‘The Last Four Years’: And for the first time in four and a half years, I’m home. because for me looking back it feels slightly lazy, like I could’ve found something more meaningful if I’d spent more time on it.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

definitely way more!! I only started writing fic last year, and I never could’ve fathomed being able to write this much in the space of a year- it’s been crazy! but I feel very strange now when I’ve not got something on the go- I’m taking a short break atm after coc, and it already feels strange not to be working on something.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

oh easily all the Penny/Niall stuff. Which is admittedly weird. but also I do kind of love it. ( @meenawrites , I wrote it for us bestie). loved that I’ve now created that tag on ao3.

also probably the Barbie au too, though realistically that was probably more likely for me than the penny/niall stuff.

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

this is so difficult because I feel like I have so many answers.

my Carry On Countdown got me through December, and I had sO much fun with it. but before that, I also love Dream is a Wish, just because I’m so happy with how it turned out, and it ended up being so much more than I expected it to be.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

it’s now my Carry On Countdown fic!! As of this week! Which I’m so happy about because I really did love writing it.

for most of the year though, it was ‘Initial Impressions’ which always slightly boggled me as I don’t think it’s my best plot-wise. I am happy with a lot of the prose in it though, and I think I forget that looking back on it.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

for obvious reasons my least read fics were the penny/niall ones, which I completely get haha.

my Barbie/swan lake au also, because it’s so niche and strange sounding. which is a shame because I think it’s got some of my best writing in it, but also completely understandable because of how specific it is.

Story that could’ve been better?

I feel bad to keep picking on it because it was so early in my writing, but ‘A Thousand Words’. for me it feels kind of ooc, and I just see a lot of things in it that I wish I’d fleshed out more or just phrased better. it was my first ever attempt at a non-watford au though, so it was definitely a bit of a learning curve.

Saddest story?

probably ‘door to door’ because it feels like a raw issue that baz would actually having to keep dealing with post-canon, and not something that he or simon will ever be able to resolve. (thank you to everyone on discord who sparked the conversation that sparked the fic.)

Most fun?

‘constant as the stars above’- my Barbie au. I went into it knowing I could do what I wanted with it and it was just- so much fun to write. I just had a blast writing it, and coming up with prophecies and rhymes and baz’s chapter and barbie parallels, and I think the fun I had with it really shines through in the writing.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

I literally cannot pick between all my post-canon fluff, so I’m going with this from ‘A Dream is a Wish’ instead:

“You don’t even know who I am,” I muttered, though fighting seemed pointless now. We didn’t fight here; it had never been the place for it.

“I know enough.” His voice remained sure against my head. “I know enough,” he repeated, resting his chin on my head. And we remained like that, safe and wrapped in unconsciousness, for the rest of the night.

And somehow, when I woke up, everything seemed more okay.

Hardest story to write?

probably ‘We’ll Go From There’? only because I was writing so many new povs, and I cared so so much about getting them all right.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

other than what I’ve already mentioned, I think ‘Soft Skin and Scarlet Skies’. it was my first fic after awtwb, and my first ever attempt at post-canon, and I just felt like I had so much to write about and so much post-canon ready to pour out of me. I think it’s one of the reasons I love awtwb so much- the openness for fic opportunities.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

YES. ‘We’ll Go From There’ drastically altered my perceptions of some of the more minor characters, and is the first time I felt I properly understood Agatha. Before writing that I had a dislike for her, but- although she still isn’t my favourite character (sorry!)- I feel like I understand her much much more now, after writing her there.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I wrote post-canon for the first time, and discovered it’s my favourite thing to write. other than that, probably nothing too drastic? I mostly just write what I want to read, and that’s what I love to do.

What are your fic writing goals for next year this year?

I have a couple more post-canon things I’d like to write- I have one I’ve been vaguely planning for a while, and something for Baz’s birthday I need to start shaping out (since we share the same birthday, I feel it’s an appropriate gift for us both).

I’d also quite like to participate in more events/fests, since I had so much fun with the Countdown this year.

(And I think I want to write an aftg fic, but we’ll see about that.)

Other than all that, I’ll just keep writing what I want to read!! (see: more fluffy snowbaz)

Thank you for the most amazing year of fics!!

#carry on #snowbaz #fanfic

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Tree House Kisses, Chapter 46/46 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Well, here we are. After 46 chapters and over 4.5 years, we’ve finally come to the end of the road. Of course, this last chapter is dedicated to the wonderful, brilliant, amazing @artificialscorpio, who was the original author of this fic and who generously allowed me to first come onboard as a co-author, and then take over when they decided to take a break. I love you so much honey!!!

And of course, we’ve had some fantastic beta readers, especially the ones who helped with these last batch of chapters: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane and @tumble4rpdr. Thank you so so much to you guys, you’re the best!

Lastly, if you have ever liked, commented on, or interacted with this story in any way…I love you.

-Veronica

If you’re interested in the rest of this fic, you can click here for previous chapters or here if you’d rather read on AO3. xoxo!

Chapter Summary: Graduation! But what does the future hold…?

Chapter 46: Kaleidoscope

Courtney was very rapidly losing her grip on reality, hands buried in Adore’s hair, back arched, biting down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. The absolute gentleness of Adore’s mouth was making her insane. Even the way she held her thighs down, thumbs lightly stroking her skin, was soft and warm.

The best part, though, was that it was her. Her best friend. The deepest, truest love she’d ever felt, finally being expressed.

Adore.

No one in the history of the world had ever had a more fitting name, Courtney thought, as her fingers tangled deeper into Adore’s hair. And then, like slipping under the cool water on a hot day, her world went blurry, sounds distorted and amplified.

“Adore…” It was a plea. A chant. Her only remaining connection to the physical world, the last thread she held onto before finally letting go, eyes falling closed and body melting down into the wooden floor beneath her.

Her eyes fluttered as she gasped for oxygen. Adore had rolled off of her, was holding one of her hands.

“Courtney?” she asked, edging closer, breath warm on Courtney’s cheek.

Courtney turned towards her, eyes liquid. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” she asked. There was a hint of a smile in her voice, an amused sparkle in her eyes.

“Uh huh,” Courtney managed. She took Adore’s face in her hands, kissing her tenderly and then murmuring against her lips. “That was perfect, so perfect…”

“Yeah?” Adore asked, wrapping her into an embrace.

“Mmmh…” Courtney snuggled against her, eyes closed. She was fairly certain that she’d never felt better in her life, and she hugged Adore tightly. Maybe too tight, from the way she shifted.

“Sorry,” Courtney whispered, loosening her grip as much as she could bear.

“For what, baby?”

“For-” Courtney’s breath hitched.

She buried her face in Adore’s chest, unable to express the emotions that currently enveloped her. Adore rested a cheek against her head, stroking her bare back. Courtney couldn’t explain why for the life of her, but suddenly, there was a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Don’t let go.”

Adore had always been her best friend, the person she loved most in the world, but now, as perfect and wonderful as everything was, the thought of losing her was about a hundred times scarier. And even though Courtney finally knew that Adore felt the same way she did, part of her was still scared that the intensity of her feelings would scare her off.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Adore murmured back softly. “I love you.”

It was the gentleness in her voice that finally allowed Courtney to let it all out. A tear began to make its way down Courtney’s cheek, and then another, and another, until she was full on sobbing, with no idea exactly why. It was like the combination of her earlier anxiety and fear and sadness and anger had catalyzed with the ecstatic joy and gratitude she was feeling now to create an unstoppable river of emotion, clinging to Adore like she was a life preserver.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m-”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Adore sniffled, and it was only then that Courtney realized that she was crying too.

What a perfect mess they both were, she thought, and started laughing through her tears, Adore joining in as she rocked her slowly, both of them crying until they were wrung out and exhausted, too tired to move. The last thing Courtney remembered before drifting off was Adore kissing the top of her head and pulling her impossibly close.

Adore slept peacefully, maybe better than she had in years, until she was woken by the sweet caress of Courtney’s fingers as she laced and unlaced them with her own, the early morning fog making everything cool and slightly damp, causing them both to burrow deeper into the sleeping bag.

A sleepy smile spread across her face, arm tightening around Courtney’s body, whispering, “Hey there…”

“G’morning,” Courtney murmured back, snuggling against her.

“How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? It’s all a bit hard to believe,” Courtney admitted. “I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up and it’ll all have been a dream.”

“Yeah.” Adore knew exactly what she meant. Things this good just didn’t happen--not to her. She tightened her grip on Courtney’s hand, squeezing her fingers, trying to reassure both of them that it was actually real.

“I do have a question for you, though.”

“Hit me.”

“Do you still think that we shouldn’t live together?” Courtney asked. Her tone was light and playful, but her eyes lowered slightly, and Adore could see that she was actually a bit unsure.

She smiled, shaking her head, pulling her in tight. “No, uh...I think that concern has like...resolved itself.”

“So then...the plan’s back on?” Courtney asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

A week ago, Adore wanted to stab her own eyes out every time she thought about them as roommates. But now, she couldn’t think of anything more exciting.

“Plan’s back on. And hey, now we can save even more money by getting a one bedroom,” she said, adding quickly, “If you think that’s something you’d want.”

“Definitely!” Courtney giggled, laying her head back down on Adore’s shoulder.

They sighed, content to just be together, to enjoy the stillness of the dawn and their hearts beating in sync.

They must have drifted off again, because the next thing Adore knew, the sun was high in the sky and Bonnie was rapping on the wooden ladder, calling up to her to get her lazy ass up and come have some breakfast.

She rubbed her eyes, sitting up. “Uh, coming Ma! I’ll be down in a minute!”

“I guess I better go get ready too,” Courtney said softly, gazing up at her.

Adore looked over at her, struck once again by how absolutely beautiful she was. She nodded and leaned over to brush a kiss against her lips.

The rest of the morning was pure chaos. Adore’s aunts had cooked a big breakfast, which of course took ages longer to eat than it should have. Then there was the logistical nightmare of bathroom time. By the time she arrived for the ceremony, she was late, her classmates already lined up in alphabetical order and beginning to walk towards their seats.

She searched the line for Fame and Violet, racing towards them to find her own spot, nerves making her stomach twist itself into knots, the disgusting polyester of her graduation gown making her sweat.

She’d really been hoping to see Courtney before the ceremony began--after all, it was one thing to confess their feelings to each other in private, but how would she act in front of all their friends and classmates, with their families watching from the bleachers? She couldn’t even text her, because they’d been told in no uncertain terms that any phones out would be immediately confiscated. Apparently some people treated high school graduations like some kind of religious ritual.

She barely listened to the speeches. It was clear from the crowd’s laughter that Bob was killing it, and good for him, but she didn’t have the brainpower to keep up with that. Fame kept reaching over both Violet and Valerie Delacruz to stop her nervous hands from tearing apart the orchid she was supposed to hold, but it was no use. By the end of Principal Greene’s speech, it was a pile of scraps in her lap. She brushed the pieces into the grass, sighing, wishing it was over.

Finally, it was time to file across the stage, and Adore knew that it should have been an exciting moment for her, but all she could feel as her family cheered their hearts out was numb apprehension, preparing herself for the worst. She tried to seek out Courtney’s face in the crowd as she stepped off the stage, but unfortunately, she was sitting behind Brent Isaacson, an absolute tank of a football player, and thus completely invisible.

Adore groaned inwardly, knowing that this might be the hardest part of the whole day...sitting back in her seat listening to the names of all the rest of her graduating class as they filed across one by one. With no more orchid to play with, she instead gripped the sides of her folder chair and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Hey…” Fame leaned over (ignoring Violet’s irritated scoff) and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Adore didn’t bother elaborating, so Fame gave her a pat on the thigh and straightened back up.

She did perk up when they started calling the J names, scanning through the line for Courtney, who looked tan and beautiful in deep scarlet lipstick, hair curled and spilling over her shoulders. Adore sat up as straight as she could, and when their eyes finally met, Courtney’s face broke out into a smile, giving Adore a secret little wave before turning to pay attention to the people directing them across the stage.

It should have made Adore feel better, but instead, it just made her anxiety skyrocket. She clapped for Courtney and then slumped back in her seat, passing the time by trying to think of lyrics to a song she was writing.

And then, at long last, it was over, everyone jumping up, some people throwing their stupid hats (even though they’d been told not to), a frenzy of activity as people hugged and cried and families swarmed down from the bleachers and onto the field with the graduates.

Adore looked around, but in the madness, couldn’t spot her anywhere.

“Can you believe we did it?” Willam was asking, as his arm slung around Violet’s shoulder, as Trinity and Fame squealed and hugged.

Adore’s throat felt a little dry, still scanning the crowd, when she felt someone throwing their arms around her from behind, practically knocking her over.

She laughed, first taking a moment to enjoy Courtney’s arms around her, sighing with relief before turning around and facing her.

“Hi. Congratulations,” she said softly.

“Same,” Courtney whispered back, gazing up into her eyes, hands still on her shoulders.

Adore swallowed, still unsure what to expect, but figured that at least, a hug was safe. She slipped her arms around Courtney’s waist, prepared to pull her in for a hug. But Courtney had other plans, taking Adore by the cheeks and kissing her right on the mouth.

Not just any kiss, but deep and slow, causing all the noise and the mayhem around them to fade away as Adore relished in the feel of her lips, warm and soft. In that moment, all of her panicking seemed insane--because of coursethis was how Courtney would break the news to their friends and family. Of course she wouldn’t care about gossip and prying eyes and snide comments. With that kiss, she was showing Adore yet again that she was number one, that nothing could stop them any longer.

That, as cliché and trite as it was in Principal Greene’s speech, today really was the first day of the rest of their lives.

A giddy laugh slipped from Adore’s lips as they parted, still too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to their friends gaping at them. Adore held Courtney close, giggling softly as she rested a forehead against hers.

“You know people are watching us,” Adore whispered.

“So?” Courtney whispered back, standing up on her tiptoes to press one more kiss to Adore’s lips.

“I told you she was bi!” Fame cried triumphantly, finally causing them to break their eye contact and look over at their friends. “Belli, you owe me five bucks!”

“Excuse me, you placed bets on us?” Adore asked, a hand on her hip. Beside her, Courtney seemed to find it all utterly amusing. “Does that mean you actually discussed this?”

“Yeah, bro,” Pearl said, patting her shoulder. She and Tatianna had apparently made their way over to the group while Adore was distracted by Courtney’s very friendly greeting. “Like...all the time.”

“Well…” Adore glanced over at Courtney, who was leaning a head on her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear, and realized that she couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

Every time Courtney so much as glanced at Adore, she felt like she was on top of the world. Of course, it was great to be at a graduation party with her family and friends, surrounded by so many people who cared about them both. But she would be lying if she said that anyone there made her feel half as excited as Adore’s hand in hers.

To anyone watching, she probably looked like a clingy mess, barely letting go of Adore’s hand, leaning against her shoulder, putting an arm around her waist, kissing her at every opportunity.

When she broke away for a few minutes to pose for family photos, Courtney felt a little ridiculous for missing her so much. She stood with some of her own family, making small talk about her summer plans, glancing over at Adore longingly every three seconds, waiting for her to come back.

Willam chose that moment to approach her, slinging an arm around her waist and asking, “What the fuck, cheerleader? I tell you my dick sucking secrets and now you're going to the dark side? Hope you have fun eating pussy.”

“Hi, Willam.” Courtney smiled sweetly at him, then said, “This is my grandmother, Muriel. Grandma, this is my friend Willam.”

Willam’s eyes widened and he backed away slowly, Muriel just shaking her head and muttering about kids these days and their filthy mouths. Courtney laughed to herself, eyes lighting up when she saw that Adore was finally heading back in her direction throwing her arms around her as if she’d been away at war for years.

“Hi,” Adore said, laughing as Courtney hugged her. “Missed me, huh?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, nuzzling into her neck.

Muriel cleared her throat, and Adore whispered, “Grandma’s not amused.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” Courtney whispered back, and they both giggled.

“Hey, there you are…” Pearl said, walking over to where Violet was sitting on Adore’s front steps, away from the party. She’d been searching for a place to smoke a cigarette, and when she spotted her, realized that she’d been absent for ages. “What’s up?”

“Nothing…”

“Oh yeah?” Pearl lit up, then slid into the step below her, looking up at her sullen face. “Seems like something.”

“Pearl, just…”

“What?”

“Go away,” Violet grumbled.

“Seriously, what’s wrong? Today’s supposed to be a happy day. No more high school!” Pearl pumped her fist in the air, lowering it slowly when she saw how unamused Violet was.

“Yeah, it’s great. I’m great. And it’s totally awesome that Adore’s tragic unrequited love for her best friend ended perfectly, while mine ended in disaster.” Violet kicked a stone off the step.

“You know-” Pearl began, but Violet cut her off.

“I don’t want to hear it, Pearl! I’m allowed to be fucking mad that she got everything she wanted and I got nothing! So don’t tell me that I should be celebrating, because I don’t fucking feel like it!”

Pearl held up her hands. “Actually, I was gonna say that I get it.”

Violet paused, eyes narrowing, still slightly out of breath from her rant, and asked, “You were?”

“Yeah. I mean, if life was fair, you’d have been rewarded for being brave enough to tell Fame how you felt all along.”

“Hmmph.”

“But also...you know, they just hooked up last night. It could still end in disaster.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Violet demanded, eyes narrowed even more.

“I dunno...did it?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Violet groaned, leaning back on her elbows. “This fucking sucks.”

“Yeah.” Pearl took one last drag of her cigarette before dropping it on the bricks, putting it out with the toe of her boot. “But, you know, you could look on the bright side.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the bright side, Polly-fucking-anna?”

“Now that you know for sure that nothing will happen with Fame, it frees you up to explore other...romantic opportunities.”

Violet snorted. “Oh yeah, like who? You?”

“You could do worse, you know.”

Violet stared at her for a few seconds, and Pearl thought there was a chance that she’d shove her off the steps, or laugh, or get even more annoyed than she already was. Instead, she shrugged.

“Alright.”

“Yeah? Really?”

“One date won’t kill me, right?”

Pearl grinned at her, shaking her head. “You won’t regret it.”

“I already do,” Violet retorted, with an exaggerated eye roll, only the light in her eyes and the slight quirk of her lips betraying her perfectly ironic tone.

“Augh, you bitch!” Adore shrieked, and Courtney laughed, fluttering her lashes innocently, pretending like she’d only gotten the frosting on Adore’s cheek by accident while giving her a bite of her red velvet cupcake.

“Oops, sorry,” Courtney said, licking the frosting off her own fingers as Adore tackled her onto the picnic blanket, both of them laughing happily.

“You guys are so cute,” Fame declared.

“Yeah, it’s disgusting,” Trinity added drily, and Tatianna laughed.

Courtney gazed up at Adore, about to go in for another kiss, when she stopped cold, Adore’s face stricken with guilt, pushing her off. Courtney turned in the direction where she was looking, and felt a lump in her throat.

Roy.

In Courtney’s ecstatic joy, she’d nearly forgotten about how awful their break-up had been--a mere two days earlier--but suddenly it all came rushing back, her pulse racing and stomach clenching.

“Shit,” she whispered softly, biting her lip.

She was frankly a bit surprised to see him here. From the look on his face when he’d stormed away, she’d expected for him to keep his distance for a long, long time.

“Are you gonna go talk to him?” Adore asked.

“Um…” Courtney knew she should, but she couldn’t will her limbs to move at the moment.

“You should talk to him,” Adore said firmly, taking the plate out of her hands. “I’ll save your cupcake.”

“Thanks, that was my number one concern right now,” Courtney said drily, and Adore chuckled.

“Stop stalling. Go ahead.”

Courtney heaved a sigh and stood up, brushing some crumbs off her skirt and walking slowly to the edge of the yard where Roy stood. The guilt made her stomach twist into knots, wondering what he would say, whether he was still so angry at her. She kept her eyes down, unable to look directly into his face, for fear of seeing that hatred on his face where once it had been nothing but love.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he replied, seeming about as uncomfortable as she felt, shifting from one foot to the other. “Uh...congrats.”

“Thanks.”

There was a long pause, things more awkward between them than they’d ever been, before both of them began to speak at once.

“How are you-”

“Have you decided-”

They stopped, at the same time, Courtney daring to look up into his brown eyes for the first time, adding a sincere, “I’m sorry.”

Roy nodded, kicked at the edge of the grass.

“I really am,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Courtney bit her lip, offering a gentle, “You’re gonna find someone better than me, you know.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Roy replied, a wry smile on his face that finally gave Courtney some hope.

“Um...do you want something to eat?”

“No thanks. I just came by to say congratulations and…” he sighed, letting out a sad little chuckle. “Actually, I’m not totally sure why I came. A glutton for punishment, I guess.”

“Okay.” Courtney swallowed, the lump growing in her throat. “I’m really-”

“I’ll see you around, Court.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” Courtney sniffled, eyes misty, as he turned back towards her. She stepped forward, knowing she needed to say something but at a complete loss for what. This was the person who’d been there for her through thick and thin for years. It just didn’t seem right to let him go without telling him how much she was going to miss him. But saying that, or even telling him the truth--that she would always, always love him--it suddenly seemed selfish. She didn’t have a right to unburden herself to him, not anymore. She would have to carry this particular burden alone.

“Yeah?”

“I just...do you think…” Courtney chewed on her lip, trying to stop the tears threatening to leak from her eyes. “Do you think we’ll ever be friends again?”

Roy was silent for a moment, and Courtney immediately regretted what she’d said. It seemed insane to think that after everything she put him through, she was even entitled to his friendship.

“I’m sorry, I just-” she stopped, voice breaking, realizing that there was probably nothing she could say to make things better.

“No, I get it,” he said, once again showing her kindness that she didn’t deserve. “I just...I don’t know. Maybe.”

She nodded hopefully, grateful for the ‘maybe,’ knowing that it was really the most she could ask for at the moment.

“Well, um…” Roy cleared his throat. “Have a good summer.”

“Yeah, you too.”

She stood there for awhile, watching him go, waiting until he got into his car and drove down the block before turning and heading back to Adore and the others, collapsing onto the picnic blanket with a groan.

“Was it awful?” Adore asked, letting Courtney settle with a head in her lap.

“Mmhmm.” Courtney pressed her cheek against Adore’s thigh, eyes closed, trying to think of all the things that she had to be grateful for at the moment. The scent of fresh-cut grass. The warm summer day. Adore’s hands in her hair, fingers running through the strands without Courtney even having to ask.

She knew she’d feel guilty about Roy for a long time--maybe forever. But as she opened her eyes and saw Adore gazing down at her, the bleached parts of her faded lavender hair lit up by the dappled sunlight filtering in through the trees above, she also knew that she’d done the right thing for all of them, as hard as it was.

Adore seemed to read her mind, a smile pulling on her full lips as she bent down to brush a kiss against Courtney’s forehead.

Adore strummed lightly on her guitar, softly picking out a melody as she watched Courtney pour over a huge selection of guidebooks and maps, armed with multicolored highlighters and post-its. The evening sun slanted in through the window, giving her a golden, ethereal glow that contrasted sharply with her mundane task of selecting attractions and routes for their road trip next week. Adore was certain that no one in history had ever looked so beautiful sticking post-its in a guide book or unfolding a map.

If it was up to Adore, she’d just start driving and wing it, but Courtney was taking the planning part very seriously, considering every road and making sure every detail would be perfect. She’d even scheduled in time for “spontaneous fun” so that they could have some days of just fucking around the way Adore wanted. The careful consideration was a sign of how much it mattered to her, and besides that, Adore found her serious planning face far too cute to waste her breath arguing.

“Look, if we take the pink route down,” Courtney said, tracing it along the map with her finger, “Then we can hit up the El Chorro Hot Springs on the way to Cabo.”

“Sounds great,” Adore said.

“And then we can do the blue route on the way back, see? We’ll go through La Paz both ways, so we can either do it before or after. Maybe after is better, so we know how much time we can stay?” She tapped a highlighter against her chin, considering the options.

“Awesome.” A lazy grin spread across Adore’s face as Courtney looked up, head tilted.

“Are you even listening?” she asked, brow arched, a look of amusement tinged with mild exasperation flashing across her face.

“Sort of,” Adore admitted. “But I trust you. There’s really only one thing I care about on this trip, anyway.”

“Zip-lining in Las Cañadas?” Courtney asked, holding up a pamphlet.

“No.”

Adore set down her guitar, then reached out and grasped Courtney by the wrist, pulling her over into her lap. Courtney giggled, delighted, nuzzling her nose and then kissing her gently.

“Playa del Amor?” Courtney then guessed, eyes shining.

“No,” Adore said again, shaking her head. She trailed her lips along Courtney’s jaw to her pulse point, where her teeth gently nipped at the sensitive flesh before licking her softly, making Courtney shiver.

“The rock paintings in Sierra de San Fran-” she stopped talking with a short gasp as Adore began to suck, her fingers tightening in her hair.

“Give up?” Adore whispered, feeling her nod, the pride of making her melt so quickly making Adore’s heart race. She lifted her head, looking straight into Courtney’s now glazed-over eyes to firmly say, “I don’t really care where we go, or what we do. I just care about being with you. Without having to pretend that I don’t...fucking love every inch of you.”

Adore had no doubt that it would be a great trip. How could it not be? The two of them frolicking on beaches, splashing in the warm water while ocean breezes whipped their hair around. She could already taste the salty kisses and feel the sand between their toes. She could imagine getting naughty while rubbing sunscreen on each other’s backs, and sharing dripping ice cream cones.

She didn’t even care that Courtney was going to make her hike on dusty trails and visit coldly air-conditioned museums. Those awful hikes would only make it more satisfying to curl up together at the end of the night. And in the museums, they could hold hands, fingers laced together, the cool air giving them an excuse to stand closer together.

All of it would be perfect, no matter what roads they drove along or what beachside motels they stopped in for the night. Because they’d be together, finally together, making Adore’s wildest dreams come true.

She continued to gaze at Courtney in the golden light, getting a look of pure love, of singular devotion, in return. It was a look that was both new and deeply familiar, a look that Adore had seen before so many times, but never truly understood until they’d confessed their most vulnerable feelings out loud.

How could she ever, ever have doubted their unbreakable bond? At that moment, she had no idea.

Courtney tilted her chin up, leaning in to press her lips to Adore’s once more, the kiss slow and perfect, a lovely taste of the unhurried summer days ahead.

They finally separated, gazing at each other with mirrored love-stuck expressions, eyes locked--until Courtney caught a glimpse of something over Adore’s shoulder, smile growing even more.

“What?” Adore turned her head, trying to see what captured her attention.

“Our names,” Courtney told her, pointing.

Adore chuckled slightly at the sight, the names they’d carved so many years ago with Bonnie’s screwdriver. The letters were crooked and wonky, scratched into the wood by what were clearly amateurish hands.

Courtney shifted, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a house key. She crawled over to the wall and began scratching something new, next to the original names.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” she sang, now hard at work.

When the letters started to form in the soft wood, Adore laughed again.

“How come your writing looks just as bad as when you were 8?”

“I never claimed to be an artist,” Courtney said, and Adore slipped her arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder, eyes closed as she breathed in the scent of her, of summer personified. When Courtney was finished, she moved aside to give Adore a better look.

Inside a crude carving of a heart (or at least, what was meant to be a heart) was the message:

AD + CJ 2007

“Do you like it?” Courtney asked, blowing a few strands of hair out of her eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” Adore proclaimed. And it was--imperfect, messy letters that Adore wouldn’t trade for anything, because it was them. She knew, looking at it, that she’d always treasure it, this permanent reminder of their love and hope and boundless joy.

“You’re beautiful,” Courtney countered with a soft kiss to her cheek.

Adore smiled at her.

Again.

Her face hurt from all the smiling.

Courtney rested her forearms on Adore’s shoulders, a matching smile spread across her face, before asking, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking...that our lives are gonna be awesome.”

“Obviously,” Courtney giggled, leaning forward to kiss her again.

Adore sighed happily into the kiss, then pulled back to look into her eyes, seeing the rosy, golden light of the sunset reflected back at her. More than that, she saw all the sunsets they were going to share together: this summer, this year, and beyond.

She’d never considered herself an optimist, not even close. But today, tonight, all she could see was a life of endless bliss stretched out before her.

The best part, though, was that it was already happening. Their beautiful life of love and joy and excitement had begun; she didn’t have to wait another second for it to start.

A/N 2: That’s all…for now. A sequel may be in the works. 👀 XOXOXOXO

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sweetchup · 4 years

Text

A Helping Hand

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au. Normal Au.

Word count: 5,300+ (oof, Shalnark fans are going to be well fed)

Warnings: Spoliers from Manga Chapter 357+, Blood/gore, Cursing, Bad Coworker, Character Death, PTSD, Slight Angst, Fluff, I’m not a doctor and even if I did research not everything here is going to be accurate and correct

Author note: Honestly, I should’ve spent today working on my 100 follower special but I accidentally had a intresting thought after watching the phantom troupe fighting chimera ants. So... I grew back my love for smiley boi Shalnark and I had a thought about an intresting scenario. So, you ended up with this.

(Pt.2)—>

“You on your dinner break, (Y/n)?” Evan, your coworker says. You watch as he leans over the counter of the desk of the intensive care unit and raises an eyebrow at you as you chew on your taco salad. You squint your eyes at the man and gesture to your salad, like “seriously it’s obvious”. Evan laughs but soon let’s out a groan and stretches.

“You okay?” You say sloppily due to you still eating your salad. Afterall, you only had half an hour allowed to eat dinner before going back to work.

“Eh. Rough shift.” Evan says and Groans again as his hand massages over a specific muscle on his shoulder, “Did you hear about the situation down at Heaven’s Arena?”

You shake your head, you hadn’t heard anything today due to the number of patients you had to attend to in the intensive care unit. It was usually pretty crazy here after all. Though, there are some pretty bad cases that come into the emergency department as well, which Evan worked at, especially from Heaven’s Arena. So this wasn’t anything usual.

“Basically, there was a death match between floor masters Hisoka Morow and Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Yeesh, so one of them came in still half alive?” You mumble, cringing at the thought. You dislike the brutality of what happens at some of the floors. It just wasn’t needed most of the time, especially with what almost happened to a boy named Gon, who Evan took care of.

“No. Worse. One of them manipulated most of the crowd and blew up the top floor so we have multiple casualties being rushed in.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be there right now?”

“Just got off shift. I’m staying, of course, just in case, but I’m waiting for them to check with the supervis—“

“Just wheel him out of here! He’s practically brain dead already!!” A screech resounds around the Intensive Care Unit as a slam of door comes after.

“But, Miss—“

“No! I said to pronounce him dead.”

You and Evan whip your head around to see what the yelling about, but you soon cringe as you see who it is. It was Sala Monodo, one of the head surgeons in charge of the Emergency Department. She was a really good surgeon but a greedy and nasty woman, along with one of the reasons why you switched from the Emergency Department to the intensive care unit.

You mumble a “what the fuck..” under your breath and place down your salad. Of course it would be this bitch to deny the ambulance crew to treat a still alive patient.

You rush around the counter and to the ambulance workers that had rolled the person down the hallway. Dale, an older worker of the Ambulance crew of the hospital, recognizes you and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Dale. What’s the situation?” You say, speed walking and examining the patient still on the stretcher. Man, this guy was in terrible condition. He was a young blonde haired man with blood just gushing from his nose. So much so he might even die from blood loss. It also didn’t help that he had lacerations and bruises on his wrists. Was this patient also caught up at the mess at Heaven’s Arena? No… there’s no burns which would have happened if he was part of an explosion.

“Young man, about mid-twenties, found hanged by his wrist at the playground downtown. No ID on him or info found in our Database. We do have a hunter’s License but that will take a while for Identification….”

Crap… that’s not good. Now, you don’t know if he takes any medication or if he’s allergic to any. On top of that we also don’t know his blood type or any past medical conditions, which will probably be useful in this situation.

“Our main problem is it seems he has a severe to moderate traumatic brain injury. Which is causing bad swelling of the brain. Along with a troubling possibility of damage to his spinal cord but that is still unconfirmed. We—“

“Dale, his heart stopped!” One of the other ambulance workers says. Fuck, that is the last thing we need right now. You quickly jump on top of the man on the stretcher as it continues to be wheeled and begin to give chest compressions.

“Dale, wheel—“ “What the hell are you doing?!?”

You glare towards Sala, still not stopping the chest compressions. “I said mark him as deceased! We are at max capacity in the Emergency room!”

You raise an eyebrow at the woman as Evan, who had sprinted over as well, jaw drops to the floor. Was this bitch serious? He’s still alive! He was breathing up until a couple of seconds ago. It also didn’t help that he needed to get him to the emergency room and you had no time to waste arguing with her. You know what… this will probably get you fired but oh well.

“Mal!” You shout as loud as you can for the Front desk women at the Intensive Care Unit. Mal, an older woman, runs out as fast as she can from a back room nearby, causing the door to slam against the wall. “Sign this patient under my name! We don’t have any identification yet so just roll with a description.”

Mal nods her head and runs in the direction of the front desk.

“You can’t do that!! He’s my patient so I say what happens!” Sala says screeching like a banshee at you. She chucks papers at you, probably the files to name this unknown man deceased. You only chuckle at her and give her a taunting look.

“Well, according to the paperwork, he’s a patient of the intensive care unit. So he’s mine now and I’m going to prove you wrong by making sure he lives.”

Sala goes to rebut but you cut her off. “Evan, pick up the papers she threw! Dale, take a blood sample and run it to the lab! I want his blood type and anything unusual. You two, wheel me to room 12, I’m going to need to get this man stable before we do a CAT scan on him.”

The other two ambulance personnel nod and turn you to that direction. Sala, unfortunately, is still chasing after you, not wanting to let this go. You give her a glare because you honestly don’t have time for this. You had just finished your thirty chest compressions so you need to give him air, fast.

Taking two fingers and you push the man’s head back to open his airway. Carefully, you put your lips on his, trying to not cringe at the sudden wetness and taste of blood, and give him two rescue breaths. You mentally sigh in relief as you watch his chest somewhat rise up at each of your breaths. That meant his airway thankfully wasn’t blocked and you could give him oxygen. Though it wasn’t lifting as much as usual which told you there was either a problem of the amount of blood blocking his airway or some being in his lungs.

You pull away from the man’s lips, yours tainted a little scarlet from his blood. You thankfully, as you lift up, lock eyes with a security personal and gesture to Sala. “Get this wacko out of here now! We have a situation!”

The security nods and grabs onto Sala who screeches and tries to fight back. Now that that was taken care of you can finally get this guy stable.

As the two ambulance personnel finally wheel you into room 12, you tell and gesture at them to leave and go. After all, they still had calls to get to and you had plenty of nurses who could help you out in a situation like this.

They thanked you and sprinted out, making sure to not bother you. Ok, so now that no one that was unauthorized was here you could try to see if you could use your Nen to try and stable him. Pulling your hands up, you close your eyes and focus. Focusing on sensing the blood in his body. Crap, your worst nightmare was true. There was blood blocking the airway through his nose and some in his lungs. Along with a conformation of swelling and too much blood in his brain. You now realize you can’t wait for a CAT scan or any other nurses to rush over here. You need to treat this man now or he will 100% be unable to be saved.

Taking some scissors from the metal tray, you carefully cut off the man’s purple tunic like shirt and his black undershirt. You throw the scissor back into the tray and put your hands in the middle of the man’s bare chest. Your heart was thumping out of your chest at the thought of not being quick enough. Come on (y/n), focus. This isn’t the time. You need to manipulate the unnecessary blood out of his body.

Taking a deep breath in, you run your hands up the man’s chest, around his neck and finally to his lips and nose. You slowly open your eyes and lift your hands away. You watch as blood in bubble-like shapes float out of the man’s nose and mouth. Swirling them all around in the air until it’s in a perfect droplet, you bend the blood over to a dish and drop it in it. Man, were you glad that you stuck to your gut and told your sensei you were going to manipulate blood. He didn’t think it was a smart choice but hey, suck it Sensei Matt. Look at how useful it is now.

After you made the blood clot the open wounds of the nose, all you had to do now, since there was no longer a risk of him drowning in his own blood or his airway possibly being blocked, you just needed to reduce the amount swelling to the brain and bring fresh oxygen throughout everything in his body to keep him alive.

Ok, you take a deep breath and raise your shaky hands. You can do this. All you needed to do was manipulate his blood throughout his whole body like a normal cycle, manipulate the blood in his heart to pump, and give him 2 rescue breaths every 30 cycles until he is stable or until blood tests come back. You can… You clench your hand in determination. No, you will do this.

————🚨📱🚨————

“What do you mean I’m wrong!?!”

You sit there rubbing your temples as you watch as one of the directors of the hospital sighs and explains how I'm not in trouble, to Sala, again. You lightly lean back in your chair and try to drown out the chaos in front of you.

It has been about a month since the incident with the 25 year old man, Shalnark, that got admitted to the hospital. Thankfully, you found out his name and age from the Hunter Association a week ago. Though it took them way too long to give it to you guys in your opinion. Along with the fact they didn’t give it to you personally and instead the department. Which gave Sala the opportunity to snoop and learn his name in order to try and get you in trouble with the Higher ups. But, it seems, due to what is going on right now, her plan has backfired. Though why wouldn’t it?! She denied a still alive man that you saved.

Afterall, Shalnark was now stable and on his way to recovering, thanks to your efforts. Though, he was currently in a coma. A big problem since you didn’t know how long he would stay that way either. But, at least since Shalnark is a skilled Nen user so he is able to heal pretty quickly and you hoped he would be able to be out of his comatose state between the next week to month. Since it seemed to be caused by brain damage.

So far while he was under your watch, with your blood manipulation you were able to heal and not cause scar tissue for most of the nerves in his spine and brain so he wouldn’t suffer from any permanent damage and be back to normal. Well…, not off the bat, he would still have to go through a lengthy recovery. One being doing some serious physical therapy sessions since he would still have to relearn a lot of his movements.

You take a sigh. Why are you worrying about this now? Well… it was probably due to the fact when you were washing him up after you saved him you saw his tattoo. A twelve legged spider. The symbol of loyalty to the phantom troupe. You haven’t told anyone, after all that would jeopardize his recovery and send hunters flooding in to try and kill him. Though—

The door suddenly slams open, startling everyone in the room. You quickly turn to see Evan, clearly out of breath, standing there.

“I’m…” Evan wheezes suddenly, “I’m so sorry Sir! But I need to tell (y/n) something. It’s important!”

The director nods his head, “Go right ahead. But, she can’t leave the room until the meeting ends.”

“Of course sir!”

Evan turns to you and smiles like a mad man. You just raise an eyebrow. What the fracking hell. Did Evan put crack cocaine in his coffee this morning or something?

“(Y/n). Shalnark is awake!”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you frantically stand up. “R-really? How’s he doing?!”

You take a gulp as you feel your throat tighten. You were scared to hear what Evan has to say. Afterall, Shalnark is the patient you have spent the most time with out of all of every patient you have ever taken care of. Mostly due to the fact he was in such a bad condition at first but, eventually, due to how you had grown attached to really wanting him to make a full recovery.

“He’s okay. He’s in a minimalistic conscious state so he’s very confused and unsure of what’s going on.”

“I-I need to check on him then. Sir, I’m sor—“

The director raises his hand to stop you from continuing and stands up. He quickly grabs some sheets of paper and hands them out to you, a small smile on his face. “No need to apologize. Just take these and go.”

“Thank you Sir!”

You take them and bow before the man. Quickly, not even bothering with taking the elevator, you rush over to the intensive care unit. Finally there, you catch yourself on the door of room 12, almost slipping past it and falling.

Panting, you look into the room to see Shalnark moving around frantically as male nurses try to hold him down. Sure, it wasn’t the best scene to see but it was at least a relief to finally see his eyes open and that he could move around.

You start to approach the bed causing one of the male nurses to notice and yell at you, “Doctor (l/n), I don’t think it’s a good idea! He crushed one of the nurse’s hands when he first woke up.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You say as you finally reach the side of his bed. “Shalnark. I need you to calm down for me.”

“W-who?!” Shalnark looks around frantically but is cut off by his own wheezing. You lean over to examine his eyes and see that they are harshly dilated. So, that’s why he is hostile, he probably can’t even see.

Hesitantly, you reach over and grab the Shalnark’s hand. You squint your eyes and grit your teeth as you know what's going to happen next. You flinch as Shalnark squeezes down and breaks your hand.

Shakily, you hold up your other hand and signal the male nurses to let go of him. As soon as they let go, Shalnark frantically looks around due to being unable to see them and not knowing where they went.

“Shalnark.” You grab the man’s attention and he turns to you. You pause and take a harsh inhale as he squeezes a bit more on your hand. He might be hostile and seem angry but you can feel his hand shaking as he holds in a death grip, telling you he was confused and frightened. “Shalnark. My name is (y/n) (l/n) and the doctor that was assigned to taking care of you in the Intensive Care Unit. I apologize that I suddenly caught you off guard and touched you. You’ve been out for quite some while and had some pretty harsh injuries so I was concerned and didn’t think of the consequences. I’m not sure if you can hear or understand me but could you let go of my hand as a sign you can?”

The room goes silent as you and the other staff wait for his response. Thankfully, Shalnark hesitantly lets go of your hand.

“Thank you. Now I’m just going to put the bed into an upright position so I can examine you. I don’t want you moving your head back and forth anymore due to your injuries so I’m going to have one of the nurses bring you a cup of water so you can speak. I’m going to touch your hand, can you please squeeze it to confirm if you think you can drink some water? If not, you can take your hand away.”

You softly reach over with your non-broken hand and hold onto his. You wait for a couple of seconds before you feel Shalnark lightly squeeze down on your hand. Looking over, you nod to the nurse who grabs a cup of water and walks over.

“The nurse has a cup of water. You can’t see right?”

Shalnark squeezes your hand again.

“Ok. I’m just going to take your hand and place it on my arm. I’m going to help you drink the cup of water. Just squeeze to let me know when you have enough.”

You softly put the edge of the cup to Shalnark’s lips. You were being very careful when tilting it upwards so you don’t spill water or give him too much at once. Shalnark thankfully drinks every single last drop, though you had expected that after all it had been nearly a month since he last drank anything.

You take the empty cup away. “Can you talk, Shalnark? I don’t want to give you too much water just in case your stomach can’t handle it.”

Shalnark clears his throat a couple of times. “Y-yes… yes.”

You watch his face carefully. His speech isn't slurred and his face wasn’t lopsided, which thankfully told you the parts of his brain that deal with conversations and the movements in his face were functioning normally. You would definitely have to treat Betty to dinner for agreeing to help you by fixing his nose and taking out the scar tissue in his face and nose.

“Good. Now, I’m just going to examine you…” you trail off at the end as you are surprised. When you went to move, it caused him to lose the grip on your arm. He frantically reaches around and grabs onto your hand, thankfully not the broken one. How weird. “Are you okay?”

“Ah.” Shalnark seems embarrassed and conflicted with himself for a second, “I just can’t see. I-it’s weird and…”

“Oh. If it’s reassuring you are allowed to hold onto my hand if you want to.”

Shalnark lets out a small thank you, it’s hard to hear but you don’t press into him about it. “Well, I’m going to first test the feeling in your body. I’m going to put a little pressure on each part of your body and I want you to say if you feel any pain or not. You don’t have to move or anything, just let me know. Also, you should probably close your eyes, after all you can’t see which tells me there's a brain injury and the bright light might end up giving you a big headache later.”

Patiently, you watch as Shalnark closes his green eyes. You almost felt sad that you couldn’t see them anymore but you shake away that thought. You need to take care of him first, not worry about trivial things.

————🚨📱🚨————

“Ok so that was the last of the tests. Honestly, you’re in pretty good condition regarding your situation Shalnark.” You say as another doctor wraps your broken hand. God, Nen was always super convenient in pretty much any medical case. You didn’t even have to get stitches or surgery for your hand! Only wrapping and a warning to try to not use it too much.

“Ah I see. H-How long do you think I’ll be here for?” Shalnark says, his eyes still closed as he fidgets with your other hand. He’s been doing that for quite some time, you wondered if maybe he was nervous.

“Hmm. That’s tough to say since we don’t really have any other parts of your medical history. But, an educated guess? I would probably give you a week or two to solve the head trauma symptoms and to introduce your body back into normal food and fluids. Then, during that time and maybe a little after, I’m going to help get your arm and legs back to functioning. Finally, you will probably start some physical therapy so you can relearn how to move and make sure everything is okay. So I would say 2-3 months? Though, it might take shorter or longer depending on the way your body adapts.” You say, letting go of Shalnark’s hand to write a prescription down and handing it to the other doctor who had just finished wrapping your arm, “Derek, do you think you could run this to Mal? I’m going to need some ibuprofen for both me and him.”

“Sure thing. Need anything else?”

“Nope that’s all. Thank you.”

The door clicks lightly as Derek exits the room. You let a drag out sigh. Man, what a crazy day it was today. Almost the craziest you’ve ever had. Oh! You almost forgot. You stretch out your body like a cat from your chair to grab the papers on the counter. You completely forgot the papers that the director had given you. Let’s see…

“(Y/n)?”

You let out a humm to Shalnark to let him know you were listening.

“So, were you the one to take care of me this whole time?”

“Yep.” You flick to the next page.

“Did you happen to help me… get dressed? Bathe me?”

You turn the other page over. “Yes. Usually the nurses do it but, due to your condition, I was the only personnel trusted to do it. Don’t worry though, it’s something we do often in intensive care.”

You pause in your reading as you feel the air shift around you. You slowly look up and towards Shalnark, who for the first time since he woke up, smiled at you. A seemingly nice closed eyed smile. Though, you could tell it was anything but nice.

“You didn’t happen to see anything suspicious on my back, right?”

Ah. So that’s why. “No. I did. You're talking about the twelve legged spider tattoo, right?”

The air grows thicker around you two and you go back to looking through your papers.

“Though no one else knows, neither does it say it in your medical records. Though, I didn’t put a record for you here in the first place.”

The air suddenly stops being tense and clears up. You look up slightly from your paper before looking back down as you see Shalnark was completely blank faced. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t put a record. You had one when you entered but I deleted it. It’s one of the many privileges you have since you have a Hunter license.”

“I know that. But, why doesn’t anyone else know? K…” Shalnark pauses for a moment, seeming to try and calm himself down, “Kortopi is dead and the police should be knocking down the door to interrogate me. Also, you know I’m part of the troupe. You should be contacting the bounty hunters and collecting the A-List bounty for my head.”

You let out a sigh and place the papers down on the bed sheet.

“Well I am a Hunter. I took the 284th Hunter’s Exam.” You cringe as you feel the room get tense again and some of Shalnark’s bloodlust leaks out. “Not that sort of Hunter. I would kill myself if I ever be came a jackpot hunter or a bounty hunter. I don’t care about money, fame or whatever.”

You take a pause and sigh again. “The Bounty Hunters or Police won’t be questioning you at all. Your friend’s tattoo was never found and I used my license to stop the police and the Hospital from thinking of questioning you or collecting any info. So, you can rest easy that you aren’t being track”

The air seems to calm down but only a little bit before it gets even tenser than before. You looked up stunned as you heard a crash and see that Shalnark had thrown something at the counter with an angry face. “Why? Huh!? Just turn me over and leave me to die! Take your reward and go! I don’t want your—“

“Will you calm down for one second!?” You yell out, breaking your composure for the first time in front of him. “If I really wanted to turn you in I would have a month ago. I don’t care for money at all! The reason…”

You trail off at the end and clench your fist. Memories of your past flashing through your thoughts. Getting all tangled with your emotions, making it harder to think. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

“The reason I became a Hunter is to help people, no matter who it is or what has happened. If I told anyone, and I mean anyone about who you are, that would jeopardize you getting better. I’m not turning back on a promise I made, no matter if you're part of the troupe or not, you're still my patient and I’m going to make sure you make a full recovery.”

The room goes silent and you neaten up your papers before standing up. The chair makes a harsh screech against the cold tile floors. You pause before you take a step and turn to Shalnark. His head dropped so you couldn’t see his expression. “I just read the documents my director gave me. Due to the incident with emergency care, the hospital is going to pay all of your medical bills and I’m going to have less to no patients so I can watch and take care of you during my shifts so you can make a whole recovery. It’s now the night shift so I’m officially off the clock and I’m going to go home but if you need anything you can press the button on your bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk away from the bed and clutch your hand onto the cold door knob. Man, what a depressing way to end this. You usually could handle anything that was thrown at you, maybe you need a better night’s sleep. You haven’t been sleeping well lately after all.

“(Y/n).”

You pause your movements at Shalnark’s voice, the door somewhat still open. You almost don’t hear the next thing he says but your eyes widen as you do.

“Please. Please don’t go.”

It wasn’t that you hadn’t expected it. It was just that Shalnark’s voice sounded so small. So frightened. Like a kitten stuck out in the freezing rain. Something you hadn’t ever heard from a citizen of Meteor city and something you didn’t think you would ever hear from a member of the Phantom Troupe. A notorious gang of thieves. You slowly close the door and turn around to him.

You can’t see Shalnark’s face as you walk over to him. Slowly, you grab onto his face and turn him to look at you. You feel his face shaking in your hand and you see him clenching his eyes shut.

You hadn’t even thought of it before now. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility. But now it makes sense. He was easily startled, something that shouldn’t be easy for a thief or criminal. He was constantly on guard before examining him, during and after. He only smiled once and often spaced out. He got randomly and suddenly aggressive at times. And most importantly, he continually avoided the subject of what happened to him and when he finally told you, he didn’t remember important details of what happened. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t seen it before, Shalnark was showing classic signs of post traumatic stress disorder.

The problem is that you couldn’t do anything for it right now. Solutions for PTSD either need medications or therapy. And you currently can’t get him either. All you can hopefully do is find a way to calm him down and get him to sleep. You could talk to some of the other doctors and contact some therapist in the morning to help actually diagnose and help him, it was just too late at night for any of that right now.

“Shalnark.” You slowly rub your thumb soothingly up and down his face. His breathing hitches for a second before seeming to slowly begin to go back to normal. “I’m actually going to stay for the night. Is there anything, and I mean anything, I can do to help you?”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds and you stop rubbing his face.

“C-can you just keep on doing that?” Shalnark softly squeaks out.

“Of course. Anything else?”

“I’m… I’m good.”

“You sure? I’m going to be here the whole night so you can say anything.” It might seem weird to the average person to say anything again but you knew you needed to make sure. People with PTSD will commonly feel great feelings of guilt, shame or hopelessness and will close themselves off from people. So, you need to reassure at the beginning that Shalnark can ask you for anything and that he can trust you.

“Could…” Shalnark trails off, slightly fidgeting in front of you.

“It’s fine. You can say it. It won’t bother me.”

“Could. Could you like… hold me?”

You could tell based on how he was acting that asking for something like that was definitely not normal for him. Especially since he’s from Meteor City. Which from your experience don’t show most to any sign of affection or vulnerable feelings.

“Of course. I’m going to sit in the bed, okay?”

“Yeah…” Shalnark shuffles over, giving you room.

You slowly climb into the medical bed; it lightly creaking under your weight. Carefully you reach both hands, even your broken one, and hold onto him. You can feel him stiff under your touch and watch as he plays with and twitches his fingers.

“Shalnark. You are okay to hold me if you want. Just completely relax, No one is allowed to come into this room without my permission.”

Shalnark seems to finally break under your words and he uses his working arm to pull you into him. With some slight shuffling and moving, you are both finally comfortable and laying down. Shalnark was facing you, his face hidden in your neck as he held onto you like as if you were some sort of stuffed animal. You feel the man in your arms slowly begin to lull off to sleep as you run your fingers through his hair.

As you held the man in your arms in the dark room, you now knew that Shalnark’s recovery won’t take 3 months. Maybe physically but definitely not mentally.

But, you knew that as long as you stayed by Shalnark’s side and just helped him through it, it could be possible.

Slowly, you reach over and hold his hand in yours which he lightly squeezes back.

After all, all it takes is one helping hand.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #hxh scenarios #shalnark #shalnark x reader #hxh shalnark

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frostsinth · 4 years

Text

Royal Flush - Pt. 3

Prologue - Part 1|2 - Grier Art - MasterList

GAAAAAAAAH!! This part had me near screaming while I wrote it. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m changing the tag from ‘slow burn’ to ‘angst’ I think, though I don’t doubt that both are rather fitting.

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The knock at the door didn’t surprise me. I had been expecting it, ever since the greys of the room had faded and the sunlight had crested the horizon. I didn’t know I could miss a window quite so much, and turned slightly to consider it as I sat up and slid my feet out of the bed. For at least now the passage of time could be as marked as my suffering. It had been a long, restless night. Every time I felt sleep brushing at the edges of my consciousness, a pair of scarlet eyes had filled it and startled me back awake. I dreaded facing those eyes now, and slowly pulled a tunic over my head. Leery of a repeat of the previous morning.

The new bedroom was larger than the guest quarters of the night before, and blessedly bare. The only furniture was the four poster bed, and a short, dark oak table set before a plush crimson cushioned couch. Hibik had scowled deeply at the “sorry state” of the room when he had brought me up the night before, but I had quickly assured him it was better this way. He had been saved only by the suggestion that I meet with the designer later and decorate the room to my own preferences (it had been his suggestion, but I had politely agreed).

I hoped the sleepless night wouldn’t show too heavily in my face, and ran my palm quickly over the top of my head to hopefully smooth the worst of my morning frizz. I didn’t linger long, as the second thunderous knock made me grit my teeth at the impatience of goblins. Honestly, you would think creatures so small would be used to having to take extra time to do things. Yet it seemed like they were more impatient to be finished with one task and move on to the next.

I moved from the bedchambers to the small foyer before the door to the rest of the castle. There were more rooms beyond the sleeping quarters, but I had not yet explored them fully. Now, it seemed I would be leaving them without the chance. Of course, I reminded myself somewhat bitterly, they were mine for the foreseeable future… Taking a deep, steadying breath, I straightened my shoulders and set my face into its stoney fixture. I took one last moment to brace myself with my fingers wrapped around the door handle before dropping it down to tug the door open.

My head dropped back as I looked not down (as I had set my gaze), but up. And up a little more. I couldn’t quite catch my eyes in time before they widened slightly, and scrambled to recover with a soft clearing of my throat.

It was not the goblin King who stood outside my door, nor Hibik or another goblin attendant. Instead, it seemed to be… well, I was pretty sure it was a goblin, based upon the long pointed nose, grey-green skin, and huge ears. But it, or more “he”, was taller than even I was! At least a head, with beady yellow eyes that filled with his toothy grin as we took each other in. He was leaning against one lean, muscular arm propped against the door frame, and his ears flopped as he titled his head to the side when I opened the door.

“Good morning, Your Highness!” He exclaimed, thick brow knitting slightly and one raising up in a quizzical expression. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. Did I wake you?”

“Erm, not at all, My Lord…?” I recovered from my shock quickly, and left the end of my greeting hanging to allow for introductions. I certainly hoped I wasn’t supposed to know this man already.

He gave a snort, waving his hand through the air. “No ‘Lord’, Your Highness.” I almost gritted my teeth at the lack of proper titles in use at this castle. “I am Damjan. General of His Majesty’s Armies.”

I tried not to stiffen visibly at that. A thousand thoughts quickly raced through my head, most prominently the one wondering what the man likely most responsible for the untold losses of my Kingdom would be doing standing at my door. I felt a stab of resentment at the sight of him, remembering the scent of stale blood and soft wails of anguish from the last time I had visited the frontlines. Was this the ploy? I felt anger bubbling in my stomach. Set me off balance, push me to the very edges of my emotions and let me have a sleepless night. Then have the General of their Armed Forces interrogate me. Ply me for secrets. My jaw tightened. They would get nothing from me, of that I was quite determined.

I wasn’t sure if his friendly smile was more aggravating or comforting with such thoughts and memories rattling around in my brain. I offered the older man a curt nod, working extra hard to keep my voice flat.

“A pleasure to meet you, General Damjan. To what do I owe this honor?”

If he noticed that I spoke at him through my teeth, he didn’t show it. He dropped his arm from the door frame, his athletic body moving with a military grace I found myself pleasantly familiar with. He cupped his hands in the small of his back, presenting himself with his feet shoulder width apart.

“I have been asked to escort you to the training cliffs,” He informed me, his professional expression breaking slightly to let the edge of a smirk cuff his thin lips, “As of today, I will be your personal instructor.”

“By whose authority-” I started, my voice growing a sharp edge.

“Come along, Your Highness,” He interrupted, turning and marching down the hall, “Let’s get a taste of what you know.”

Put off my guard, I stifled a sigh. Just a breath’s delay more, and I stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind me. I had to lengthen my stride to catch up to him, but soon fell into step at his side down the obnoxiously loud and cluttered hallways.

I couldn’t help staring at him out of the corner of my eye. Wondering what freak genetic mix-up had placed the disproportionate, lanky goblin frame in such a huge body. I quickly darted my eyes forward as I saw his flick to the corner to consider me as well.

“Something I can help you with, Your Highness?” He asked lightly, sounding amused.

I shook my head, tucking my hands behind my back as we marched along. “Apologies, I forget myself.” I replied, fully expecting a barrage of insults or a reprimanding for my insubordination.

He chuckled instead, and I glanced at him again out the corner of my eye. “I can understand your confusion. But I assure you, I am a goblin.” He cocked his head to the side, and a mischievous smirk twisted the corners of his lips. “Half, at least.”

I managed to keep my stoney face in place, but nodded politely. “I beg your forgiveness for my slight. I did not mean to intrude upon your personal life.”

He gave another soft chuckle. “A glance is hardly an intrusion!” He exclaimed, turning and leading me down a separate hall. I noticed the torches seemed to be lit on our path, whereas other hallways remained dark. “And I am proud of my heritage. My mother was an orc, you see,” He continued, bypassing a dark hallway for a lit passage again, “And my father was… well… he was ambitious.”

I barely managed to stifle the laugh that formed in my nose. Ambitious indeed! I could almost picture it, a sprightly little goblin trying to romance a behemoth orc. I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. But the humor quickly faded as I remembered just exactly who this half-goblin was.

“I have never met an orc,” I intoned dryly, “I imagine their prowess as warriors has served you well, General Damjan.”

He seemed to sense the rising tension, and shrugged it away. “I was raised beneath this very mountain, so I imagine I wouldn’t know.” He paused at a darkened intersection, turning his head to consider me properly. “But I do not share their views on war, and am more than happy to retire at a young age. Relatively speaking.”

That stopped me in my tracks, and I met his gaze with steel as I turned to face him as well. The unspoken words on my lips in my eyes. What about all those men who would not get to retire? What of all the soldiers who never saw an age beyond “too young”? We squared each other up, soldier to soldier. I had seen a few battles, and he had seen a few too many. But the history of the last decade aside… The fact that a human and goblin soldier could stand across from each other in the same hallway? Without drawing swords or exchanging blows? Ten years ago it wouldn’t have even been imaginable. Five years ago it would’ve been our worst nightmare. As we eyed each other, we both came to the same quiet acknowledgement, and I felt a strange contentment wash over me. He offered me a stiff, respectful nod, and I returned it graciously. Honestly. And that was that.

It was a good reminder of what once was and what was to come, and I felt suddenly glad that I was going to be a part of it. In whatever capacity. This new peace… it was for the better. For both Kingdoms. I studied his face briefly as he snapped his heels together to lead the way back down the hallway once more. The exchange having succeeded in loosening the unspoken tension between us, a familiar goblin grin returned to his face.

“Now, let’s see what you’ve already got, Your Highness.” His grin grew a little. “And what you’ve got left to give.”

…...….

I sensed more than saw the set of eyes on me. As I dodged and ducked under another fast paced swing from the half-goblin’s meaty fist, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. But if Damjan noticed our new observer, he gave no sign. If anything, his attacks became even faster. I moved my feet quickly, tightening my core and flexing my thighs to bound back and forth out of the way. I saw his feint for what it was and spun easily on the ball of my foot, jabbing my elbow towards him.

He grunted as the blow landed against his raised defense, yet was not so easily defeated. His hand caught the back of my neck, and his own elbow shot towards my face. I twisted from his grasp, forcing my shoulder into his chin then sliding my foot out as he fell off balance. Sweeping him off his feet.

General Damjan landed heavily with an even louder grunt than before. I drew in a sharp breath, looking down at him with my fists still balled, instantly regretting my brashness. I had gone too far, knocking him off his feet. I fully expected him to be angry with me for besting him, my host and senior. Not to mention our tentative peace; would he take this slight as a personal insult? Had I taken the spar too seriously? I took a few steps back, panting slightly as the sweat dripped over my shoulders. Already planning out my apology and preparing for the worst.

But the big green fellow suddenly laughed, and I looked at him with surprise. Wiping the back of one over sized hand across his forehead, he rolled back to his feet.

“Good match!” He exclaimed and I almost winced as he reached out. For of course there would be repercussions for having embarrassed my new instructor. But his heavy hand simply clapped me on the shoulder proudly. “You’re stronger than you look!”

I glanced up at him, beaming down at me with his pointed teeth. “...Thank you.” I replied finally, slowly loosening my stance as I realized this was no feint. “I found our spar quite… educational, General.”

He laughed again, dropping his hand and stretching. “Let’s do it again, Your Highness. You’ll keep me in my fighting prime.” He winced slightly, running his hand over the grey streaks in his short cropped hair. “My old age prime.” Then he cocked his head to the side, big ears flopping. “Tomorrow morning sound good?”

I offered him a curt nod, straightening back into my square shouldered formality. “I look forward to it.”

The half-goblin grinned again, bumping my shoulder companionably with his as he strode past me. I turned with the force of the gesture, absorbing the blow and spinning lightly on my heels with it, watching him head over to the ring wall where we had left our towels.

I stiffened at the sight of the goblin King leaning against it, an equally toothy grin on his own face. Luckily, my face was already flushed from the heat of the day and the strenuous activity. I was sure he wouldn’t notice it had darkened a few more shades. I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. Who else would make the hairs on the back of my neck rise quite like that? Still, it was the first time I had seen him since… the embarrassing misconduct.

Damjan gave the King a respectful half-bow, and I used their temporary distraction to consider my options. But there was no avoiding him, though I glanced out the corner of my eye to absolutely assure myself of that. The memory of the previous night had me hotter at the collar than the sparring match, and I steeled my gaze and my nerve as I slowly paced over to the wall.

“... Your Majesty,” I almost mumbled, nodding to him respectfully.

He held out my towel to me, still grinning like a fool. “You’re a good fighter.” He said as I gingerly took the cloth from his outstretched hand. “I am glad Damjan was available today.”

“You sent him.” I concluded. As I had expected, though no one would confirm it for me.

Grier cocked his head to the side. “You said you enjoyed training and sparring. I figured most of our soldiers would be no match for you, simply on account of their size, but the General might be more your level.”

“Yes, I found him a challenging opponent.” I replied formally, glancing down at the towel in my hands and resisting the urge to shift on my feet again.

“Perhaps we can spar sometime,” The King offered eagerly, “I would love to see if I might be an equally worthy challenge.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, and said nothing for a long moment. “...As you wish.”

I felt his scarlet eyes running over me, and was careful to keep my facade of stoicism uncracked in the face of his scrutiny. His smile returned, and he leaned down on his elbows over the wall. He was outlandishly dressed again, his tight shirt a faded orange pinstripe with a collar almost down to his navel and washed-out, billowing black pants with green embroidery. I wondered briefly if he owned a single article of clothing even mildly subdued in nature.

I wrung the towel in my hands, feeling very self-conscious standing before the goblin bare chested again. Though this time I was also coated in sweat and dust from the dirt ring. I rubbed one foot into the ground, longing to look away from those bright beady eyes. Struggling to find some words to say but finding everything wholly inadequate. The hot sun beat down on my bare shoulders, and I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. I began wiping down my arms with the rough cloth as an excuse to break our eyes apart.

“... Come, I am sure you would like to wash up. ” He exclaimed, straightening once more. “And the day is early yet, perhaps you would like some breakfast? Some tea perhaps?”

I hesitated again, chancing a glance up at him through my dark lashes. He had already begun to make his way back between the walls of the barracks, and paused, looking over his shoulder at me. He gathered my boots and shirt from where I had left them while he waited. I sighed internally, then placed one hand on the low wall of the ring. Hoping over it as easily as opening a door. I saw his scarlet eyes watching me intently as I did, and thought I saw his lips twitch slightly. He tossed me my things as I got closer. I dropped my gaze with the pretense of pulling on my boots, following after him as he finally turned and led the way back into the castle proper.

Once again, each windowless hallway we passed down had torches lit while others we passed by were so dark they appeared to be walls of black to my weak human eyes. I noticed Grier shooting a glance over his shoulder at me as we passed another such intersection, his red eyes glinting in the firelight.

“What are your feelings on magic?” He asked, his tone light.

“In what regards, Your Majesty?” I returned warily, following into a small side room which was still shrouded in mostly darkness.

I blinked a few times to clear my vision as he lit a few lanterns about the room. It appeared to be a small washroom, set with basins of clear water. I looked around carefully, considering the decadent mirrors that framed my sweat and dirt caked form now edged with the soft yellow glow. The basins flowed like small fountains, with fresh water pouring from intricately carved patterns in the walls. The water pooled in deep stone basins, then trickled over the edges into the pitted floor below before descending into some unseen place. I walked over to one curiously, as Grier gathered up a clean towel from a stack of linens in the corner.

“Goblins are quite practiced in magic,” He replied, wandering back over with a vivid red towel in hand, “It is integrated heavily into our days. Small magic for that, granted. Little charms and enchantments mostly. I do not believe it to be as common in human culture.”

I dipped my hands experimentally in the basin that stood at my waist. The water was cool and refreshing to the touch, and I cupped a small amount in my palms. It glistened beautifully in the lantern light, almost unnaturally. I brought my face down to splash it over my cheeks experimentally. It felt somehow crisper than normal water, and I watched the drops from my face shoot ripples across the surface below. A distorted reflection of my face peered back at me, and I ran my hand back through the water again to break my own gaze. I was very consciously aware of the watching eyes as I brought my wet hands over the back of my neck.

“I have little experience with it,” I said stiffly, “Except for-”

I stopped short, hesitating. I slowly ran water up my arms and shoulders, swallowing and half-hoping he wouldn’t notice the slip. I saw him tilt his head to the side in the mirror above the basin. I almost sighed. No such luck then.

“Except for?” He prompted, taking a few steps closer with a small smirk dancing on his lips.

I didn’t answer for a moment, dropping my gaze down to the surface of the water again. “... Except for the magic used against us on the battlefront.”

“Ah... yes,” I heard him shuffle, then give a nervous laugh, “I would apologize for that, but it seems tasteless to do so…” I glanced over at him as he came around to stand facing me, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. “... I am pleased that I can assure you that our magic will only be a boon to your people now,” He cocked his head to the side slightly, holding out the towel to me, “And it gives me no small amount of relief to be able put this war behind us.”

I took the towel gingerly, making a point not to meet his eyes. I felt his fingers brush mine and tried not to stiffen noticeably. Unfortunately, I had never managed to master a flushing face. I prayed he wouldn’t notice the subtle darkening of my skin, and if he did, would choose not to comment.

“I was not, however, asking simply for the conversational effect,” He continued as I patted at my face with the surprisingly soft towel, “But to gauge your willingness to be charmed.”

I froze, looking up at him with the towel pressed against the lower half of my face. I had managed to keep the worse of my surprise from my eyes, yet judging from the twitch at the corners of his mouth, I hadn’t managed to completely hide it.

“I am afraid I don’t know what you mean, Your Majesty.” I breathed after a moment, composing myself.

He waved one three fingered hand in the air, smiling brightly. “Well, I am quite the charmer myself, if you don’t mind me saying. I would certainly be willing to put a spell on you.”

I turned away, clearing my throat and twisting the towel in my hands. So it was finally time for the conversation I had dreaded. My ears felt like they were on fire, and I cleared my throat.

“I beg your forgiveness for my rude behavior-” I started quickly, spilling out the words I had been practicing all night.

“Rude behavior?” He interjected, sounding surprised.

“My actions were improper.” I continued, trying to remember the rest of the rehearsed speech. Though his interruption had been unplanned, and let me a little lost. “I acted brashly, and hope you will not take them the wrong way.”

His silence sent a tingling spark down my spine, and raised the hairs on my arms. I gathered up my shirt, pulling it over my head with my back still to him. When he still didn’t answer, I slowly turned, carefully to keep my face expressionless as I tucked the edges of the tunic into my pants. I wasn’t sure if he had ever gone so long without speaking, at least not in my experience.

Scarlet eyes were waiting for me when I turned, and perhaps it was my imagination, but he seemed a little paler than usual. He managed a small, crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes, and a chill rattled through me.

“... I was talking about casting a charm on your eyes. So you can see in the dark as we do…” He clarified quietly, then his eyes dropped. “But I don’t believe that’s what you are talking about.”

I blanched, my stomach turning over in somersaults. I very much wished at that moment to turn and bolt. Back out to the training cliffs perhaps, to have Damjan crack his fist into my face. Or to the empty tower bedroom, to throw myself out the window. Anywhere but in that small washroom across from the goblin King.

By some small miracle, I managed to keep my composure. I tucked my hands behind my back and squared my shoulders. Denying even to myself the absolute chaos that reigned in my head at that moment.

“My apologies, Your Majesty-”

“Grier.” He interrupted, perhaps a bit too harshly. The goblin stopped short, seeming to catch himself in surprise at his own tone. I saw him chew at his own cheek. “...You were talking about our kiss.”

I didn’t answer, my tongue feeling heavy and dry in my mouth. Maintaining my stony composure even as he began fiddling with the collar of his shirt. As per usual, I found myself without words. I scrambled, thinking over everything else we had talked about.

“I… I would want to know more about the magic,” I started, deciding ignoring the conversational switch had ever happened was the most polite thing to do, “Before I agreed to it. I do not have any charm experience.”

“Obviously.” The King snorted, and I felt my spine twitch at that.

I kept my gaze level though as he turned his attention back to me. In his eyes, something flickered; not quite anger, nor sadness. Something somewhere in the middle. Finally, he waved his hand in the air again, brushing aside the strained silence.

“But we have business to attend to, Prince Nikostratus.” He stated, then with lithe grace pushed himself off the wall with his shoulders and strode to the door. “I sent for Hibik to bring over the Treaty for our final review.” His usually languid stride was quicker, and I had to lengthen my own to keep up. “I thought it might be most poetic to sign them in the War Room, if you are in agreement.”

His voice was light and airy. As if whatever tension from just moments before had never happened in the first place. But as he continued on, babbling some nonsense about converting the War Room to some other purpose, I noticed it was distinctly too light. Too airy. His laughter was flat, and his toothy grin didn’t reach his eyes. I wondered if he was perhaps more insulted than I had initially thought; perhaps in goblin culture I had offered him some slight. I racked my brain over the memory of the previous evening, trying to pinpoint exactly where I had insulted him. If I didn’t know, then I could certainly never be sure I wouldn’t accidentally do it again.

I barely noticed as he led us into the large room, centered around a huge oval table with the world mapped out in intricate detail. Like all the other rooms, it was cluttered, though less with fabrics and mirrors. Instead, there were bits and pieces of armor, as well as swords and maces and pikes and numerous other weapons. They were… displayed, for the most part. Though a fair few looked as though they had been taken from their place, fiddled with, then never quite put back. I made my way over to the table, studying the intricate carved mountains and painstaking details of the plains and forests. It was actually quite beautiful, and I reached out to delicately stroke the polished edge.

I realized a silence had settled, and turned to find Grier watching me, his own hands clasped behind his back. I belatedly came to the conclusion that I had completely zoned out and stopped listening to whatever he had been saying. I removed my hand from the table like a child who had been caught at the sugar jar and cleared my throat. I noticed the corners of his mouth twitch, though somehow those deep red eyes managed to look a bit sadder.

I dropped my own eyes, and shuffled slightly. “Your Maj… King Grier,” I started, and the words felt heavy in my mouth. I felt my composure waver slightly, and tried not to let my guard down as I turned to face him properly. “I feel I should… “

“You have nothing to explain.” He assured me, his voice strangely thin. “I meant what I said last night.” I winced slightly, and he sighed heavily at that, sounding resigned and more than a little disappointed. “I will never ask more than you are willing to give.”

I was saved from having to scramble for some form of answer for him yet again by the sound of the door opening and the appearance of Hibik, arms overflowing with parchment. A step behind him was Damjan, who gave me a hearty grin when my eyes settled on him. And behind him… was Gareth.

I felt my back tighten at the sight of my guard, whom I had hardly expected to see here. I had thought him long gone from the region. His lips were tight, his eyes dark. There was an unkept scruff on his chin and cheeks that suggested he had not had the most relaxing two days. I squared my shoulders again, meeting his gaze with as much unwavering confidence as I could muster. Raising back up the walls I had foolishly allowed lowered just moments before. He offered me an overly formal and polite bow. Hibik’s ears bounced as he too bowed to me, handing me a copy of the Treaty, then bustled over to hand another to the King. Damjan dropped his heavy hand on my shoulder, and I jerked a little under the weight.

“ A historic day indeed, Prince Nikostratus.” The General exclaimed, still grinning. “And an early retirement for me!”

I offered him a polite nod, listening with half an ear as Hibik explained something about the need for witnesses. I watched Gareth out of the corner of my eye, but my old guard seemed to be making a point not to look at me. The goblins, varied in shape and size as the three of them were, seemed so very animated compared to the two of us. In fact, their chatter and gestures made me feel like a statue, and I clenched my teeth a little tighter for the fact of it. I couldn’t see the words on the page before me, but moved my eyes as if I was reading them anyways. Wave of emotion after emotion hit me, so fast and powerful I couldn’t even begin to register them before the next one rushed through.

Here was my mentor, a man who once had been one of the few people I would call my friend. He had also been a childhood friend of my mother’s and my only connection to her once she passed. There had been many years I had looked up to Gareth, and many spent training in his direct shadow. I had become a soldier because of him; and now I knew, above all else, that I had committed a crime barely shy of treason in his eyes. The distant way he addressed me, the cold anger that even now I could feel bleeding from him. I felt my own temper flare. What else could he have expected from me?? Allow my sister to be wed in my place? Allow my kingdom to fall to ruin?

I was glad we had spent so much time discussing and debating the previous day. It meant I didn’t have to worry that I absorbed none of the words my eyes ran over. Of course, that also meant I trusted Hibik, and in turn, Grier, to have transposed our agreements honestly and without malintent. I wondered briefly if they had guessed the effect Gareth’s presence would have on me, and had planned this moment. But one last glance at the edge of my vision, where the man stood with a chiseled expression that just barely held his rage, and I decided I would much rather trust my life to the goblins.

“If you are ready, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Hibik intoned.

Grier nodded, and I thought him overly subdued despite himself. I didn’t have time to linger on it though. My heart raced and my head swirled as the parchments were placed on the notary stand and an inkwell was brought forth. Grier signed first, and I saw his mouth set in a tight line as he did. I felt equal measures of guilt and pain at the sight, which was quickly replaced by a heavy weight that settled on my squared shoulders as Hibik passed the pen to me. I tried not to hesitate. Tried to move with a befitting grace and poise. But my hand shook a little as I brought the quill back from the inkwell. Luckily, Grier would be the only one who would be able to see that. And I hoped he would not begrudge me the fear that drowned out all the sounds of the room as I brought the tip to the page.

I felt numb as I stepped back from the notary stand, passing the quill back to Hibik. I saw Gareth and Damjan exchanging looks that looked more akin to threats than peace, and could feel the tension in the air as palpably as if someone had filled the room with water. Hibik was dutiful and meticulous, however, and quickly sanded both signatures. He delicately rolled one copy, sealing it with wax and the Royal Goblin Crest before passing it to me.

Gareth stepped over, a lingering distrust in his eyes as he considered not only Damnjan, but even tiny little Hibik. I tensed as he squared up to me, bowing ever so slightly. The rest of the room forgotten.

“Your Highness.”

“Sir Gareth,” I greeted him formally, trying not to spit the words, “I trust you are well.”

“As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” He replied, his tone so cold it burned. I felt his disapproval like a knife in my chest, and tried to stand a little taller in the face of it. He bowed his head slightly again. “... Your Highness.”

The way he added my title almost as if an afterthought might as well have been a slap to the face. And the malice in his eyes… I felt my pulse falter at it. But there was no going back now, and despite his disapproval… I knew this was for the best. I had to believe that.

“Your sister sends word,” He interjected, even as I opened my mouth to speak again, “She believes you have been held against your will.” I saw his eyes flicker over my shoulder ever so briefly as my retort died in my throat at the mention of my sister. “... It is not an uncommon belief.” My free hand clenched into a fist, so tight the knuckles turned near white.

I steeled my jaw, knowing his intent to cause me as much anguish as he could. “Assure her I am well, and enter into this Treaty of my own free will.”

His sneer was hardly perceptible to the less trained eye, as his fixed features barely shifted. But I knew him too well. “Your Highness speaks of the Marriage Contract, I believe?” Again, he didn’t give me time to respond. “... She wants to see you.”

My heart sank in my chest and I almost broke. The numbness in my breast had spread, and I could hardly believe I was still standing. I tucked my fisted hand behind my back. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing it shake.

“No.”

Gareth’s head cocked to the side. “Surely Your Highness has not forgotten the Princess’ tenacity already?” I wanted nothing more to punch the arrogance right off his face, and felt my eyes narrow slightly. “If you try to deny her, she will still find a way.” His face softened slightly for fondness of her. “Regardless of any attempts to detain her.”

I knew he was right. My sister was nothing if not intelligent, perceptive, and endlessly persistent. A drive that got her into trouble almost as much as it got her out of trouble. But the thought of her coming here? I almost shuddered. As though seeing her might remind the goblins of their initial marriage arrangement plan. And Morgana knew me far too well; I would never be able to convince her I was safe and happy if I brought her here. To the castle that made my head pound with the disorder and chaos.

“Your sister is welcome here.” Came a light voice from my shoulder.

I didn’t look at Grier, I didn’t need to, and felt the hairs on the back of my neck quiver as he moved to stand at my side, considering the guard before me. His scarlet eyes were filled with an unfamiliar chill. His disdain for the man hardly hidden.

“No.” I repeated firmly, my own anger barely kept in check and bleeding ever so slightly into my voice. “...Not here.”

“The border then.” Gareth decided, and I could have slapped him for his insubordination. I saw the glint in his eye daring me to. Proving to him what he had already decided.

Thankfully, Grier stepped in before I decided if I would, slipping the sealed Treaty from my clenched fist at my side. Physically putting his smaller form between the two of us. Forcing the soldier’s eyes to focus on him.

“Two days time, at the Northern Border. Noon, and no later.” He ordered him, then held out the treaty. “I trust you will be able to handle the safe delivery of this to your King?” One slender brow twitched. “Or shall I send an escort?”

The authority of his tone was undeniable, and again I found myself impressed with the strength of his execution. Despite being a foot shorter than both of us, his presence was powerful, and demanded respect. No quarters were given, no room for argument.

Gareth was forced to take a step backwards to keep the ample space required for royalty at the goblin King’s intrusion. I delighted in his outrage at having to do so, but knew he was far too wary of his tense standing with the goblins to act in any way that might be even remotely disrespectful. I saw him grit his teeth, then dip into a bow at the waist.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” He took the parchment as graciously as he could, his voice hard.

“You are dismissed.” Grier ordered, even as the guard opened his mouth to speak further.

I wished I could somehow record the moment. The way his eyes flashed, the way his open mouth stayed that way, shock in every corner and crack of his stoic mask. I would have enjoyed revisiting it on future days. He cast me a final, borderline treasonous look, then straightened. Spinning on heel and marching out.

“All of you,” Grier waved his hand indistinctly after the man had made his exit, “Out.” I started to follow Hibik and Damjan, but was stopped in my tracks as the King quickly added. “Not you.”

I paused, glancing after the other goblins as they slowly closed the door behind them. My pulse raced, and I was hardly in the best place to keep my guard up. I struggled to keep my lingering anger in check, turning to face Grier with my hands clasped behind my back. I built the mask back up, piece by piece, soldering each into place. Leaving nothing but a cold stone statue to face the goblin King.

He took a long, slow breath, standing by the notary table, looking down at the parchment there. As he let it out through his teeth, I felt my own breath hitch in my mouth.

“So it is done.” He said finally, then reached out to trace the edge of the contract lightly with one finger. “For better or for worse.”

Most definitely worse, I thought quietly to myself. But said nothing. The numbness was returning. The weight of the rest of my life laying itself one brick at a time before my eyes. My breathing was shallow and thin, and I felt light headed. Yet still I stood, in silence. Staring down the man that was soon to be my husband.

“It has been a long day,” He continued, then chuckled softly, “And it is not even noon.” Scarlet eyes swept over to me. “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, hardly feeling the motion. “No, Your Majesty.” My voice sounded distant, even to my ears, and painfully cold.

He sighed again, shaking his head and placing his hands on his hips. “I’ll take you to your rooms then.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t give an answer, stepping to the side to allow him to lead the way out of the chamber. I felt my eyes dart a final time to the Treaty on the stand, felt the lump forming in my throat. I didn’t linger long, and was soon following the King down the hallways.

I didn’t bother to try and keep stock of our path. I walked through a fog of my own design, each step heavier than the last. Each thought more painful than the one before. I wondered in that moment if I would ever see my Kingdom again. If I would ever see the castle where I was born, or walk among my people. I was a pariah now, an outcast. In signing the Treaty that sealed their peace, I had also signed my death to them. I would never be accepted at court, most especially after we held an official ceremony. Least of all was the fact that I knew my father would disown me in whatever way he could without completely nullifying the Treaty. But for all that… I had brought peace. I had saved lives. Even as I tallied my losses and as visions of my dreary future paraded before me, I could hold that close to my heart. Like a balm to soothe the other pains.

I nearly ran into Grier as we reached the door to my quarters in the high tower. So lost was I in my thoughts. He shouldered open the door, gesturing for me to enter before lingering for a moment in the doorway. I would have groaned, had I less restraint. He had something more to say. And I wasn’t sure I had the strength to take one more beating that day.

“... Prince Nikostratus,” He began finally, seeming to carefully pick his words even as he spoke them, “I cannot begin to fathom what you are… feeling… or thinking…” He straightened, running one three fingered hand over the stone doorframe. “But I… I can not press enough that you never need to do anything you are uncomfortable with. And…” He took a deep breath, “And I apologize that I cannot just pretend it never happened as you do, but if last night… if that was the only kiss I shall ever receive from you… Then...” He hesitated, dropping his eyes, “Then... I will treasure it... For it is not your fault you are marrying a fool…” He shifted again, unable to stand still. “I just had to let you know that. And to know that you owe me nothing. Ever. You have already given more than enough in the service of your people.”

I faltered at his words, my heart racing at an alarming pace in my breast. The anger bubbled up in me, and my hands purled back into fists behind my back. Was this to be my life? Endless back and forth emotional assaults? Would I ever be given more than a sleepless night to just-

I grabbed the door in my hand as he moved to close it, and his eyes widened in surprise. I watched them look me up and down briefly, and took a step back, gesturing with my free hand. His pronounced brow jumped up at that, and I saw him draw in a sharp breath. But then he stepped into the foyer. I closed the door behind him, facing it for a moment while I composed myself. And tried to figure out what the hell I was doing anyway. I berated myself for my brash impulsiveness. Tried to sort through my spinning thoughts.

I turned back to him, standing with a very puzzled look on his face. I opened my mouth, but realized… I still hadn’t decided what I wanted to say. So I was forced to shut it again.

“... You owe me no explanation,” He offered, raising his palms as if to show me he was unarmed, “I need no apology. It was not my intent to make you feel guilty, or trapped.”

“Your Majesty-”

“I just needed to tell you. I am not like you; I wear my emotions on my sleeves,” He offered a light laugh as the words seemed to gush out of him, “Honestly, I found I am beginning to wonder if humans even have emotions. Or maybe it is just Royals. I have little experience with either you see.”

“I-”

“I mean no insult,” He said quickly, interrupting me again, “It will just be an adjustment. Or, or I suppose we can just keep it to the basics, yes?” He tapped his chin, “Some sort of schedule or routine. Whatever you are comfortable with. Limited to whatever capacity you want.”

“Your Majesty-”

“I mean professionally, of course!” He rushed to add, “I understand if our… private arrangements are to remain separate. I am sure that we can come to something comfortable for you, I mean, and you just need to tell me what that is. I don’t want to assume and therefore end up in an uncomfortable situation. Because honestly, I-”

“Oh, would you just, SHUT! UP!” I snapped finally, “Just shut up! SHUT UP! For two, goddamn, bloody seconds. Just-”

I cut myself off, realizing not only had I spoken out loud, my voice had risen to an almost disturbing volume. That, and the fact that the goblin King was staring at me with eyes the size of dish saucers. I stared back at him for a long moment. Then I felt myself crack, and shook my head. It was too late now. I’d already yelled at the King... Might as well let it all out.

“I just… By the Gods you are so absolutely…” I started, then dropped off again. I began to pace, from one side of the room to the other. I felt like with each step, a little bit more of my composure dropped away. “Do you realize how ridiculous… You think that just because I don’t spew my emotions everywhere every time I speak I don’t have any??” I managed to control my volume a bit better, but the tone was still harsh. “I just. Want. Two. GODDAMN SECONDS. Just let me breathe! Please, for the sake of the Gods and all that is…” I jerked to a halt, glaring at him, clenching and unclenching my fists. “You just make me so… I just… GAH!” I threw up my hands, pacing back and forth again.

For his part, Grier watched my track, following me with his scarlet eyes. He remained frozen in place, a million things flashing across his face as he stared. But I didn’t have the patience to try and sort them out. I was exhausted, worn out, and sick of it all. I stopped in front of him again, throwing up my hands one last time before crossing them over my chest.

“So there!” I snapped. “You broke me. Congratulations. You see the cogs behind the, what, let’s call it ‘seriousness’, shall we?” I clenched my jaw to keep it from shaking. “How surprising that the human statue has feelings.” I waited barely a breath, but when he didn’t answer, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well?? You’ve really nothing to say now?”

To my surprise, a small, coy smile played across his thin lips. He offered his hands, palms up again, giving a small shrug. “You told me to, what was it? ‘Just shut up’... Remember?”

I almost laughed at that, but instead heaved the heftiest of sighs, lifting my hand up and pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers. I felt my anger starting to ebb away, and regret was quickly taking its place.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” I breathed, “I am… very tired… And that was incredibly rude of me.” I winced, my face falling, “I would beg your forgiveness, and will throw myself at your mercy.”

He did laugh, loud enough for the both of us, and it made me jump slightly. “At my mercy? Good lord, where do you humans come up with these things?” He shook his head, wild hair dancing about his shoulders. “It is I who should apologize, my young Prince. I should not have pushed you. Which is ironic, as I was trying to do exactly the opposite…” He sighed as well, though lightly, shaking his head again, “I just thought that… well, I know what humans think of my kind, and last night when you…” He cleared his throat, looking down at his feet and shuffling them. “It confused me, but you have certainly set me straight, and I assure you it will not-”

“That’s not what I meant.” I interrupted, then flinched. Even going so far as to take a step back as if the King might strike out at me. But he merely looked up at me curiously. “... What I said earlier… My apology.” I swallowed hard. “It was not… ah…”

I dropped off, flustered, and rubbed at the back of my neck. Why was this so damn hard? It was like every word I knew had fled from my mind. And each strange thought and emotion this man caused to rise up inside me had no name, no label. No way for me to describe it to myself, let alone to him. He waved his hand errantly, as if he was detached from the situation. Though I didn’t believe it for a second. There was too much eagerness at the edges of his voice when he spoke next.

“Please, spare my feelings and speak honestly, my young Prince.”

I swallowed hard again, dropping my gaze politely. “I… I simply meant that it was improper of me to…” I cleared my throat, unable to say the word, “It was… unwarranted and impolite. I was certain you would take it as an insult, to be… assaulted in such a manner.”

“Assaulted?” He echoed, his lips curling back into the toothy smile. “I would hardly call a kiss an assault,” He cocked his head to the side, his grin becoming arrogant, “Especially when I already had my hand on your knee, as I recall.”

I felt my face growing hot at his words, and the memory they recalled, but buried my embarrassment and attempted to return my face and tone to be as flat as possible. “Such a thing, in any circumstances, is simply not done.”

“But you are my fiance,” he scoffed, “Surely you humans are not so uptight that kissing your intended is considered abuse?”

I had to purse my lips to keep them from quivering. “It is not common practice, to my knowledge.”

“Well then, I hope your knowledge on the matter is limited.” He laughed again, and moved a few steps closer. “So… You did not mistakenly kiss me?”

I took a step back, nearly stumbling. He paused, considering this, then fixed me with a new smile. I wasn’t sure I liked it. It made my heart rate erratic and brought more of those nameless emotions to my chest. I swallowed hard again.

“... No…” I admitted softly, and felt the same stabbing guilt at the confession as I had when I had admitted to him my preference in partners.

His grin grew to be almost unbearable, and I dropped my eyes. Then rubbed at the back of my neck. I saw him take a tiny step closer out of the corner of my eye.

“... Would it be too bold, then, to invite my betrothed to dinner?”

I stammered through a few useless phrases, and felt my face darken several more shades. Honestly, I was surprised the top of my head didn’t catch fire from the heat. My ears were painfully hot, and I rubbed at one as I tried to compose myself. I could see the goblin out of the corner of my eye, and couldn’t help but notice he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“I… ah…” I mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

“To give you a few hours for your own company,” He offered, “Or to rest, if you wish.” I started putting the mask back up, forcing myself to meet his gaze and opening my mouth once more. “Don’t.”

He closed the distance between us in a final stride, craning his head to look up at me and efficiently halting whatever false politeness or proper response I had planned.

“You don’t need to… hide behind… all that.” He gestured to my face, and then laughed at his own ridiculousness. “You can be yourself around me… if you want, of course. If you prefer to keep up your.. Let’s call it ‘seriousness’, shall we?” He smirked, and I managed to close my mouth. “If it makes you more comfortable, then by all means. But maybe I can see a little more of who you really are…”

I hilted a sigh, glancing off to the side. “...I don’t know who that is.” I confessed, my voice thin and weak.

I started slightly at the feeling of his hand brushing my jaw. I looked down at him, meeting his scarlet red eyes as his hand slid to cup my cheek

“Perhaps I can make a suggestion then?”

He had to stand on his tiptoes to brush his lips against mine. Instinctively, I started to pull back. His hand was light against me, and he let me retreat. But I paused, a hair’s breadth from his mouth, his breath on my face. Hesitating. Because, perhaps... that hadn’t been all that bad.

He waited a moment, likely to see if I would prefer he cease and desist. Giving me the opportunity to break away. When instead a quivering breath chased out from between my lips, he chased after them. Kissing me more sincerely. I hesitated again, feeling my eyes and heart flutter. He ran his fingers along my jaw, tracing up to nestle the tips behind my ear. Stretching up to me and kissing me so gently it made my head spin.

I lost myself in the sweet taste of his mouth. My arm came up, wrapping about his waist. Pulling him closer to me. Pressing his torso against mine. I curled down, letting him rock back onto the balls of his feet. I could taste his smile then, and felt our kiss deepen.

I jerked back after a moment, and quickly dropped my hands, staggering back a step.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize,” He ordered me, “Never apologize for actually taking something you want for once. For enjoying yourself for half a second.” His grin returned. “Especially when I enjoyed it too.”

I shook my head, unsure what else to do. He sauntered closer a step, but his proximity unsettled me again, and I matched it with a step back.

“In goblin culture,” he mused, staying a few paces away now, “It is quite expected for an intended couple to be physically affectionate towards each other.” He cocked his head to the side. “... Can I try again to tempt you with dinner?”

My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears, I almost didn’t hear his request. Finally, I nodded, if belatedly, and swallowed a lump in my throat.

“As you wish, Your-”

“If you say ‘Your Majesty’, I am going to scream.” He warned, flexing one elongated digit at me.

I pursed my lips, swallowing at the lump again. “... As you wish… Grier…”

His toothy smile returned quickly, and he beamed up at me like a fool. “Then I look forward to it.”

...

UPDATE: Part Four HERE

#goblin x human #goblin romance #goblin king #goblin lover #goblin husband #mlm #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #angst #slow burn #Royal Flush #royal marriage #monster marriage #terato #exophilia

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lloydskywalkers · 5 years

Text

So on the incredibly rare occasion that I do write romance, I have the ability to write one (1) single romance and that is all, and that’s Dumb Fools in Love. Which hopefully fits here, because it’s Glass Girl’s namesake day, so i gotta at least try for @speedythecat, it’s what she desERVES.

(happy valentines this is disgusting fluff anyways i love u speedy)

Lloyd likes the way construction paper sounds. It’s kind of therapeutic, the sound it makes as he drags the scissors through the middle. It’s even more satisfying when he uses them to start stabbing gaping holes through the paper, because he went and ruined the stupid heart shape again, and now he’s running out of pink and red construction paper that doesn’t look like he took a vicious katana to it and went crazy.

“Stupid scissors—”

He doesn’t know if Rain even likes pink or red that much, Lloyd reminds himself dismally, as he untangles his fingers from the scissors. Just that they’re thematically appropriate to the essence of the holiday, or whatever, and they apparently must’ve been the only two colors that existed when whoever came up with Valentine’s Day was around. He hasn’t even found actual purple in any of the little cards he’s seen, just some floral lavender.

Lloyd glances down to the pile of pink and red paper strewn across the table in front of him, then back to the instructions he’s printed out for himself. Then back to the paper.

Maybe he can just like, die instead.

Lloyd is about ninety percent sure that he can’t be the only person to ever look up “how to make Valentine’s Day cards” on the internet before, but it still feels like a crushing blow to his pride and an overall dumb move in general as he does.

But he’s only slightly desperate right now, and he really doesn’t want to reach fully desperate, so he’s willing to suck up his pride if it means not totally ruining his girlfriend’s hopes and dreams by giving her a sub-par and ultimately disappointing Valentine’s Day card that looks like he doesn’t even understand the holiday in the first place.

To be fair, though, he kinda doesn’t.

Like, Lloyd knows what Valentine’s Day is, obviously. He’s not an idiot. He’s just…never really participated in it…as a person. It seems like all the others have cute little stories of getting paper cut-outs and candy hearts in grade school (which he can get behind, if there’s candy), but Lloyd’s experience in grade school was general scorn toward anything love-related at all. Valentine’s Day was well out of the question. Lloyd didn’t even know it existed until he walked straight into a street stand that looked like red and pink had thrown up all over it, before being drowned in like, twenty-dozen bouquets of roses.

He’d been an awful brat of a child then, so at the time, he’d dealt with it by kicking the stand over and being totally grossed out. Now, however, he’s left wondering if those bouquets are worth the money, or if he should invest in the slightly bigger ones they sell over on the east side stands.

How the tables have turned, Lloyd sighs miserably to himself, struggling to peel another stubborn strip of glitter glue from his hand where it’s dried there, sparkling mockingly at him. Finally digging the glue free, Lloyd brushes his hands off and glances down at his paper.

Go for handmade.

Well, that one’s easy, ‘cause there’s no way Lloyd’s physically bringing himself to walk into a store and buy Rain some cheesy card with a bunch of generic hearts on it. This, of course, leaves the problem that Lloyd now has to come up with the card, and the only thing that’s coming to mind are generic, cheesy hearts.

Hmm. Lloyd taps the edge of the table, humming beneath his breath. He can draw pretty well, but he’s not like, an artist. Not like Cole is, or anything. Lloyd is a lot better at cartoon characters and funny little caricatures of the others than he is, say, detailed roses or something.

Rain likes cats, right? he muses. He could draw a cat, and then maybe have it holding a heart, or something. That’d be kinda cute, maybe. And then he’d get to make some awful pun like “you’re paw-sitively purr-fect”—

Lloyd slams his head down on the table. Nope. This is why he’s not allowed to come up with the idea himself. He’s worse than all the awful grocery store cards put together.

Something in his nose tickles, and he sneezes, sending up sparkly dust all around him. Lloyd blinks, then bites back a moan. Belatedly, he realizes he’s just dunked his head in glitter dust.

It could’ve been the glue, he tries to comfort himself.

Figuring he’s already doomed, Lloyd makes peace with the fact that he’s just going to live the rest of his day resembling a blond disco ball, and lifts his head to return to task, squinting at what’s next on the list.

Make it personal.

Again, that one should be easy too, because it’s Rain. But what’s supposed to count as personal? Is it like, I-love-you personal, or here’s-a-reference-to-inside-joke-number-fifty-eight kind of personal? Should he do both? He and Rain have too many inside jokes, though, it’ll take him half the day to pick one, and he’s already running out of time. Rain’s supposed to be back at noon, and Lloyd does not have that kind of time to kill.

He drums his fingers against the table-top, staring at the outlined drawing of Rain his fingers have absently started sketching out, right next to his doodles of little cats and a mini-Overlord raging terror on the glitter glue scattered across the paper.

Lloyd frowns at the last one. Oops. Well, he can’t give her this now.

“Is that supposed to be the Overlord? You can’t give Rain that for Valentine’s Day.”

Lloyd jumps half a foot out of his chair and slams his knee into the table just so that his entire leg goes dead, his shriek of surprise strangling off as he chokes on the erupting cloud of glitter dust.

By the time he winds down coughing, wiping the reflexive tears from his eyes and glaring, Kai is just staring at him, mildly concerned and whole lot unimpressed.

“A little warning, please.”

“I’ve been standing here for five minutes, bud, it’s not my fault you’re in dreamland.” Kai glances down at the table-top of scattered construction paper and glitter dust, and his mouth trembles, like he’s holding back laughter. “Are you…trying to make a card, or mass-murdering our construction paper supply?”

Lloyd feels his cheeks go scarlet, and he sputters. “I’m not — no, I’m just—” He waves his hands in the air, wishing he could disappear. “Valentine’s Day,” he finally says, haplessly. “Rain. Card.”

“Ah,” Kai says, nodding. He eyes the butchered pile of paper. “It’s going…good, then?”

Lloyd buries his face in his hands, groaning. “I keep ruining it. I’ve never done Valentine’s Day before, Kai, this is a disaster. Rain’s gonna hate it.”

“Aw, don’t say that,” Kai says, sliding into the chair next to him, patting him on the shoulder. “Rain’ll be fine with…whatever…you end up making. It’s not that big a deal.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “I mean, it’s not like she’s going to get horribly upset because you butchered her favorite holiday and dump you for some chump with better taste.”

Lloyd freezes dead, his eyes widening. He has not yet considered this option. What if he does ruin Rain’s entire holiday with his awful gift? What if, by completely disrespecting her last name’s namesake — thing — she does get horribly upset and runs off with like, Ariya to the desert or something, and—

Kai blinks, then his eyes go wide. “Lloyd, wait — no, it was a joke, Lloyd, don’t get that look on your face — Nya!”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

And that’s how Lloyd ends up cornered by his entire team at the kitchen table, covered in glitter dust and currently living out his worst life as they try to decide the best way for him not to totally sabotage his love life in one go.

“Honestly, I never really got Valentine’s Day,” Kai remarks. “I didn’t get the whole grade school experience as much, since we homeschooled for the most part. It’s just a lot of hearts and chocolate and flowers and stuff, right?”

“Um, it’s a lot more than that,” Jay rolls his eyes. “It was classroom warfare. Your like, entire life status was measured by how many Valentines you’d get. It was totally lame,” he scowls.

“I dunno, I always got a whole lot,” Cole muses. “I could never figure out why, though. I wasn’t super popular, or anything...”

They all stare at Cole for a beat, where he stands haloed beneath the kitchen lights in all his wavy-haired glory.

“Hopeless,” Jay sighs.

“This isn’t grade school, though,” Nya says. “This is Lloyd’s actual relationship, which we are helping him with, so let’s hear actual helpful stuff, please.”

“Again,” Kai shrugs. “Flowers. Chocolate. Hearts. Bam, you’re good.”

“For crying out loud,” Jay groans. “How do magazines keep labeling you the smooth one.”

“Hold on, he’s got a point with the chocolate part,” Cole points out.

“Of course, you would choose that part to focus on,” Zane sighs.

“Guys, enough,” Nya cuts over them. “I said helpful stuff, not the most generic ideas ever. I mean, chocolate’s nice, but Lloyd’ll probably eat it all before it gets to Rain anyways—”

“I would not!” Lloyd protests.

“—and the card’s gonna be the focal point, so hearts are covered.” Nya glances down the pile of butchered construction paper in front of Lloyd, and winces. “We’ll, uh, help you with that part. But first, let’s plan.” She tugs a half-torn piece of construction paper toward her, uncapping a marker. “What all does Rain like, for starters?”

“Well,” Lloyd pauses, thinking. “She does like flowers, and — no, no I am not going to ask Lief for help, no way, not a chance.”

“Just a suggestion!” Jay throws his hands up in defense. “He’s her friend, though, so he’d probably have some ideas, y’know?”

“So. Not. Worth it.”

“Okay, okay, geez.”

Nya rolls her eyes, but scribbles ‘flowers — not from Lief’ on the paper anyways. “Good, but that’s still pretty standard stuff. Anything else a little more creative? Something that really says Rain to you.”

“She likes rocks,” Lloyd nods.

The marker squeaks violently on the paper, and Nya makes a dying sound in the back of her throat. Kai breaks into snickering, and Jay whacks him on the shoulder, giggling.

“There you go, bud, perfect Valentine’s gift. Give her a rock.”

“No,” Nya says firmly, glaring at Jay. She then turns the glare on Lloyd, who immediately shrinks lower in his seat. “Rocks, Lloyd, really — okay. Okay, do you know anything else she likes? That’s not rocks?”

“Uh, she likes…glass?” Lloyd says, weakly. “And um, seashells. And tea, and — she really does like rocks, I’m serious! Like, cool ones—“

“You are not giving Rain a rock for Valentine’s Day!”

“A cool rock!”

“That doesn’t make it any more acceptable!”

“Ughhh.” Lloyd slides down in his chair with a dying moan, throwing his arms over his face. “You ruin everything. She likes those little paper cranes, I guess. And, uh…”

“You,” Zane reminds him. “She likes you. Therefore, she will most likely love anything you give her, since it’s from you.”

Normally, Lloyd would just scoff at that, but Zane’s voice is so sincere it actually helps, a little. Lloyd sits up in his seat a bit, his crossed arms loosening. “Well…”

“Yeah! So why don’t you just draw her a cat that says like, ‘you’re purr-fect’, or something?” Jay suggests. “That sounds like you.”

Lloyd slams his head against the table, once again accidentally dunking himself in glitter dust. He can’t bring himself to care this time, because the whole world apparently just knows him for terrible puns.

“Stop being so melodramatic, you’re going to remind her of her brother,” Nya clips. Lloyd chokes on his tongue, and dissolves into a fit of manic sputtering as Kai claps him on the back, encouraging him to breathe.

“—was just a joke, Lloyd, don’t take her seriously.”

“—time and place, Nya, time and place—!”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

It takes several disastrous attempts and more than a few marker wars — Kai in particular is sporting some spectacular pink sharpie marks along the side of his face, and Lloyd’s got streaking red marks across his forearms as the price for protecting his own face — but Lloyd end up with one brightly-colored, cursive-lettered Valentine’s card for Rain.

He’s feeling pretty confident in it, actually. It says everything he wants it to say, while looking pretty but dignified, and it’s only got one cat on it, so he’s — he’s pretty sure Rain will like it. A lot more than any of his other disastrous attempts, he assures himself. Now all he’s gotta do is grab the flowers Nya made him promise to get, and according to both Wikihow and his family, he’ll have the perfect Valentine. Armed with that knowledge, Lloyd strides confidently for the kitchen table to grab an envelope.

Only to freeze dead when he comes face-to-face with Rain, who’s bent over studying said disastrous attempts from earlier, that he’s left out in full view on the kitchen table like a complete moron.

Rain’s currently got one of his first attempts in her hands, her finger tracing the little design he’d drawn. Her hair’s down right now, all silvery and smooth and falling over her face, so he can’t see her expression.

Lloyd is highly considering running for the hills by like, hurling himself out the kitchen window, when Rain turns around, the end her nose still red from the outside cold, freckles standing out more than usual on her cheeks. Lloyd freezes in place.

She holds up one of the ruined cards. “Are all these...for me?”

Lloyd’s soul makes the executively wise decision to exit his body right then.

“They’re — I — no, they’re for, uh—”

Lloyd’s mind backfires. Shoot, he can’t say they’re for someone else, they’ve got ‘I love you’ and other sappy stuff all over them, what’s he supposed to do—

“They’re, uh, for my grandmother.”

Rain raises an eyebrow. “Your grandmother…named Rain,” she says slowly, reading the name that’s brightly plastered everywhere.

“Her name’s Rain too,” Lloyd tries, weakly.

Rain raises her other eyebrow. She wordlessly holds up one of the cards, pointing to where “Rain Allira Valentine” is highlighted. Lloyd mentally makes a note to murder Kai later as her finger slides down to the “Mr. Rain Valentine” right below, her lips trembling as she tries to hold back a snicker.

“Um.” At least she’s laughing, Lloyd tells himself. She hasn't run off to the desert yet. “I have a better one for you, I swear. Those are just — really, really bad first attempts, which you were never supposed to see, ever.”

Please forget they ever existed, is on the tip of his tongue, but Rain’s expressions softens, her eyes fond as she looks from the cards to him.

“I don’t know, these are…kinda sweet,” she admits, her cheeks going a bit pink.

“Oh,” Lloyd says, his own face heating. “That’s! That’s good, I guess. I mean, this new one’s — it’s a whole lot better, though, and uh…” He frantically rubs the back of his head, trying to get his brain back online and working properly again. Unfortunately, the action sends a tiny shower of sparkles raining from his hand, and Lloyd remembers in horror that he never got that glitter dust out.

Rain smirks, biting back a laugh. “Hold on,” she says, stepping in close. “You’ve got some — here.”

She pushes a hand through his hair, her fingers gently tangling through the thick blond strands before pulling away, leaving her fingers stained in glitter dust. She gives a tiny snicker, then brushes at his hair with her other hand, neatly sweeping a shower of glitter dust from it before carefully tousling his hair back in place.

“There,” she says. “Now you don’t look as much like a disco ball.”

“Maybe I wanted to look like a disco ball,” Lloyd says, petulantly. “Lloyd Disco Ball Garmadon, that’s me.”

“Then I’d have to make you another Valentine’s card,” Rain says, and Lloyd finally spots the envelope she’s been keeping behind her back. “Because I definitely messed up your middle name, if that’s the case.”

Lloyd blinks rapidly. “Wait, you got me one?”

Rain freezes, looking unsure. “Um…yes? That’s kind of…the point, right? You give Valentine’s to people you lo—like—um, love.”

Lloyd’s definitely red now. “I-I probably wouldn’t know,” he finally stammers. “Darkley’s wasn’t too big on Valentine’s.”

Lloyd immediately wants to hit himself, because Rain’s here being sweet and talking about love, and he’s bringing up Darkley’s like a motor-mouthed moron. And now Rain looks sad, and is it too late for Lloyd to pitch himself out the window—?

“Well, lucky for you, I know all about it,” Rain suddenly says, firmly. “You’ll just have to spend the day with me, so I can give you the run-down.”

“That I can do,” Lloyd grins brightly in relief.

“It’s a date, then,” Rain beams, before her smile hitches in laughter. “And you, um, you have more glitter. On your cheek.”

Lloyd wipes quickly at his face. “Oh, come on — did I get it?”

“No, now you’re just — okay, stop, I’ll get it, hold on.”

Rain steps nearer again, brushing her thumb across his cheek once, then again. “There,” she nods satisfied. She doesn’t move back, though, standing close enough that Lloyd can count her freckles, and see every shade of teal in her eyes. There’s a hint of a smile left on her face, and Lloyd swallows. This would probably be like, the perfect time to—

“For FSM’s sake, kiss her, you moron, she’s totally set you up for it—”

Kai’s voice cuts off in a strangled choking sound as Nya throttles him while both Rain and Lloyd go scarlet, and Lloyd makes another mental note to murder Kai a second time later.

“Wanna go out?” Lloyd suggests hastily, his face flaming. “The candy’s probably not gonna be on sale yet, but I bet we can get someone to cut us a deal.”

“Yes,” Rain nods fervently. “Let’s — out. Go out. Of here, sounds good.”

“Great,” Lloyd says, then snatches both their jackets from the hook before fleeing, Rain trailing behind him as they sprint past the others, stifling laughter as Lloyd desperately avoids making eye contact with anyone. Rain’s muffling giggles too, though, and Lloyd can’t help breathing out a laugh as he flings open the doors tumbling out into the chilly February weather.

“So, I have a question,” he says, as their footsteps fall into pace down the street. “What do you think of like, rocks as a present?”

“Hm, I don’t know. Is it like, a cool rock?”

“I mean, hypothetically? Yeah, a super cool rock.”

“Well, if it’s super cool. Then that’d be a good one, I guess.”

“I knew it—!”

#ninjago #lloyd garmadon #rain #oc #this is the Worst of Sap #the rest of the team is here being...sort of...helpful too #anyways stan rain

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i-am-parsec · 4 years

Text

10/30/2020

Nine hundred days.

I’ve existed in a world without you for nine hundred days. Our daughter is almost as tall as me. Our son now uses words that seem too big for his small mouth. They’ve grown so much and...

This is pointless. This is fucking stupid. I don’t want to do this. I know I have to and there’s this tiny voice in the back of my head that whispers I should be grateful that I get to see Esperanza and Samuel again, that I get to sleep in my own bed again, that I should simply do as I’m told and enjoy whatever few freedoms I’ve been granted and I know that’s the smart thing to do, ok? But I’m so sick and tired of this, of all the repetition, the exercises, the meetings, all for nothing! Nothing! I’m broken, that’s it! They can not fix me and every pill they push down my throat and every appointment with a new therapist they write on that stupid white board and every damn piece of paper they make me fill up, incessantly, like a child in detention is just a fucking waste of...time…

Now that I’ve written it down, I have to admit it is quite ridiculous that I’d be complaining about wasting time since that seems to be the only thing I have plenty of. The only thing I have, period. So, no, I don't want to do this, but given that I have absolutely nothing else to do and that the new nurse they assigned me appears to be bitchier that the rest and I am in no mood to argue with a very young, recently graduated, awfully entitled CNA, I guess...we are doing this.

I guess I’m writing you one more letter.

I do appreciate the fact that I get to write whatever I want and keep it to myself instead of filling up one more “How are feeling today?” form, full of disgusting stickers and smiley faces, that I have to hand in but...I honestly don’t even know where to start - the world kept moving alright, just not in a direction most of us could’ve seen coming.

I guess I'll simply say it: we are in the middle of a pandemic, Chase. It’s been around for about 8 months now and it’s partly the reason why I’m back home, other than good behavior. Oh, there’s also that, the fact that I was “away”. See, I was first hospitalized for a couple days and then locked up in a mental institution since, after our little “meeting” of sorts, I had a rather predictable existential crisis and went a bit, what in the medical field is referred to as, apeshit crazy. Now that it’s been over a year since said incident, I have to admit I’m slightly proud of having gone so insane that seven grown men were required to hold me down. I guess crossing planes of existence is, as you’d say, a hell of a drug. Worst trip of my life, no doubts about it, but quite memorable.

In other news, Ana is now the only legal guardian of our children. Trust me, this displeases me as much as I can imagine it displeases you, but it does make sense. I’ll be the first to admit I’m absolutely incapable of taking care of them. Whatever happened that night, it changed me. I love them as much as I did the day I walked into that forest, I don’t believe there’s a force in this or any other universe that can take that away from me...but pretty much everything else I once was...it’s gone. My sister tries her hardest to get a meaningful reaction out of me, a chuckle, an insult, a knowing look, even a sigh, something familiar, something that tells her that the little girl that she once adored is still here, that I’m still here.

But I’m not. I suppose I don't have to tell you that.

Nonetheless, she works hard to maintain the husk of a woman I am these days in decent shape. Once I was found after spending an undetermined amount of days in the wilderness, famished and horribly dehydrated - which only makes the fact that, even in those conditions, I gave a 6 feet tall men a black eye so much more impressive -, she had me admitted at the best hospital she could afford, never asking our accountant for a cent. When I finally started engaging with my caregivers, she surrounded me with all sorts of doctors to help my obviously fractured mind navigate reality. I am certainly not easy to handle so many have thrown the towel and walked away from me but Ana quickly replaces them with someone new, who she claims has even better qualifications and is more fitted to my needs. My needs. I would like know what she thinks my needs are. I would like to know what I need. I would like to need something at all. To want something. To feel the things I logically know I used to feel but I simply forgot how to.

The way even breathing felt off at the beginning...the unnatural taste behind every small human action, it fades, slowly but not fully. I eat, but there’s no flavor, there’s no way of filling up my stomach. I smile, but I literally had to retrain my facial muscles in order to do it again so I wouldn’t scare my own kids. I have emotions, I do, but it is almost as if I went from having a massive range to only four: love for my children, rage for the world, apathy for my sister and her battalion of therapists and...something for Sean and Henrik. Something almost like hunger or lust...it’s a pull, warm, sticky and elastic that drives most of my thoughts in their direction. A normal, sensible mind would claim it is a need for some well deserved answers, some closure, but my insensible self knows better than that. This wanting isn’t normal, or mine. It doesn’t belong to me, but it lives within me.

I guess it’s a good thing for Henrik I am not allowed to leave my home without a chaperone and even better for Sean that travelling abroad is straight up banned. I guess it’s a good thing for me that this silent plague has slowed down the world for a while, giving me time to catch my breath after the shit show that went down last year. But the gears of Life are trying to speed up, everyone is eager to leave the quietness behind and sooner than later, the pull in my soul will find a chance to drag me where it wants to go. I don’t know what will happen then. I wish I could say that I’m afraid to find out, but I’m not. I suppose I don't have to tell you that.

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Link to all the chapters in chronological order, here. Link to the last chapter, if you can even call it that, here.

Heeeey, did u read all of that? You did? Do u wanna know what the Fuck is going on, if there’s gonna be more of this bullshit coming soon? Well, for starters, there’s another new chapter here, that I’m gonna be posting like right after this one, and secondly, If go and read that one and hit the keep reading thingy there’s a bit of rantin’ with some info, so u can go there! see u tomorrow <3

❤️Tag list❤️: @amyxmiaplay @beckofthewoods @closedworldofmathiel @darktrash-drash @fanfictionrecommendations-com @flyingfishflopsthings @fruitycasket @hiimizzyxoxo @hishex @scarlet-mangata @mcomegalletas @mijako98 @mysterious-cupcake-ninja @mysticalanimallover @novasingalaxies @plutoandpolaris @probablyghosting @randomartdudette @saltyweirdbi @scarlet--raven @septicuniverse @skyewardlight @thevampireauthoress @youllnevertaketheskyfromme @rats-this-username-is-taken

#Unaddressed Letters #Stacy Brody #Chase Brody #Jacksepticeye #Antisepticeye #Henrik Schneeplestein #no i would never come back to a fanfic that i abandoned over a year ago ahaha...unless??

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Sleepover Secrets

This is my first commission and its for the wonderful and the lovely @gytech !! Thank you so very much for trusting me to write such a cute and lovely fic for you. It means a lot and it was super fun to write. I hope you enjoy and like this piece!!!!! -Star

Pairing: Jiroumomo (Jirou x Yaoyorozu)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 4313

-------

Jirou closed her locker with a hard thud. She didn’t mean for it to be that loud but today's hero training lesson really shook her up. She thought she was getting better with her technical moves but she had been beaten in nearly every match today and all she wanted to do was lock herself in her dorm room and busted out her newest cd of a rock and roll band she had been dying to listen to too. That's all she wanted.

“You were really strong out there today.” Of course Momo would complement her. She could see how flustered she was and now Jirou had to keep her face cool enough so the gorgeous goddess like figure that was Momo Yaoyorozu didn’t see the blush forming on her face.

“Oh um thanks.You were amazing, naturally.” She smiled back.

Yaoyorozu finished hanging up her outfit all nice and neat. It always made Jirou laugh as she would tuck her scarlet red suit inside her locker while Uraraka would simply cram hers into that small space before running to the bathroom to empty her stomach. Yikes.

“So Jirou.” Momo trailed off. “Do you maybe want to have a sleepover? I overheard some of the boys talk about having their own and I thought I would like to give it a try.”

A small laugh came out of Jirou’s mouth. “Give it a try?’ She was met with a simple nod as they both finished smoothing out the skirts of their uniforms. “Wait. Yaoyorozu, have you never been to a sleepover before?”

The much taller girl turned bright pink as she began to pack up her things. Momo was one to get flustered or overthink everything constantly but this seemed more, embarrassed? She began to fiddle with her hair tie as she began to pull back her dark locks.

“It's not like I haven’t been invited to them as a child, I just don’t think that maids pampering the guests and I really count as the true experience, yeah know?” It was almost comical of how rich Momo was and how often her class forgot it. It made a little bit of sense that she hadn’t had the true experience, after all living in a mansion was kinda like a permanent fort.

“Well luckily for you. I am an expert. I’ll turn my room into a kick ass pillow fort and we can watch movies and have snacks.”

“Pillow fort?” She turned her head almost like a cute puppy dog who just got offered to go on a walk.

Jirous smile fell. “ Please tell me-” Another shrug and slightly embarrassed smile. “Alright, that's okay, it will be better this way. More of a surprise. My rooms a bit small but we can probably squeeze some more girls-”

Momo held up her hand and looked around as the other girls were starting to head out. Her voice was much quieter this time as if she didn’t want the others to hear.

“Actually. I was wondering if maybe it could just be us?” Momo asked shyly.

No matter how hard she tried, Jirou would not be able to contain the flush of red that spread across her cheeks. She didn’t know why she was slightly panicking. They were friends, best friends even and have hung out alone many times before. They studied, listened to music and occasionally fell asleep on the common room couch together, but for some reason, Momo asking it to be just them felt different. It was odd and was bringing up feelings she wasn’t sure she could handle right now.

“Oh yeah of course.” Deep breath in. And out. “How about tomorrow?” That should be enough time to emotionally prepare.

The bell rang through the locker room signaling it was time for them to head to their next class.

“I’ll bring snacks.” Momo said happily as she took her bag and headed out.

Jirou smiled to herself while poking her ear jacks together. Behind her she heard a coo and a giggle. Her eyes widened as Mina was practically glowing from hearing other conversations.

“You two are super cute!” The pink alien giggled which made her face redden further. “Don’t be such a bashful doll, Momo is super into you!” Mina always knew the drama and could sniff it out like a little piggy with truffles. Of course she had seen through her face.

A small pain of sadness ran through her. “She's not-” Jirou frowned but dropped the subject. Mina could sense the shift in mood and laced her arm through hers as they began to walk to English.

“Well you still want to give her the best slumber party ever. I’ll help you set up tomorrow.”

“Thanks Mina.”

It was Saturday which meant no school and most importantly, the smartest and cutest girl would be coming over to spend the night. Jirou was bright and early to make sure she turned her room into a pillow wonderland. She began by stripping her bed clean and pulling all the extra blankets and pillows she had.

The pile of supplies seemed small and weak. She remembers being able to create amazing forts with her cousins back home. The hallways would be lined with chairs as sheets were stretched and taped on while they crawled underneath.

But now this was just plain sad. How was she supposed to impress her with just four blankets and five pillows? She couldn’t.

A knock from her door interrupted her thoughts and she opened it while rubbing her eyes. “Mina.” She had almost forgotten that her friend offered to help her and with the way things were going, she was relieved to see the extra support.

The bubbly girl, honestly who has this much energy in the morning? Came bouncing in with her hands full of blankets followed by a mound of pillows being carried by Hagakure. Another stack of blankets had fallen into the floor as Tsuyu dropped them off.

“We are ready to help you throw the most amazing pillow fort party ever! Sucks that we can’t come but nonetheless, we shall be your faithful helpers!” Mina cheered and the door shut as the four girls got to work trying to figure out the best way to configure this.

After a few hours of planning, blankets falling, pillows being thrown, a whole box of juice boxes and instruments being smacked down from the walls then shoved into her closet, the maze that was now a pillow fort was complete.

The girls stood back and admired their work. A low whistle came from Mina as she patted Jirou on the back. “She’s going to love this!” Tsyu said as they began to leave just in time for the queen herself to arrive.

Jirou sat in her new arranged room on the floor waiting and the realization that she was about to have the prettiest girl in her room by herself was kicking in.

“What if she doesn’t like it?” Her eyes widened. “What if she doesn’t have fun and wants to leave?” All these thoughts began to corrupt her mind as she was playing out the worst case scenario.

A polite knock at the door came and she picked her head up from her knees. She crawled through the massive fort, as massive as it can be in this cramped dorm room and answered the door.

“Hey.” Momo said with a bright and beautiful smile. She was wearing a simple tank top and bottom set but Jirou knew it was made from imported silk. The light pink looked really good on her skin and she had to stop herself from checking out her best friend. Her dark long hair was falling freely on her shoulders. It was rare for her to not have her hair up but Jirou thought she looked really pretty with it down.

She looked down at her own outfit. An over sized hoodie with her favorite bands logo and black fuzzy shorts.

“Come on in.” She said casually and moved down to the floor to crawl. Momo followed and soon they were sitting in the middle of the pillow fort.

“Wow, this is amazing.” Momo looked around. It was such a simple concept but she adored the domestic feeling it provided. She was used to the finer things in life but moments like these made her wish she knew more about the freedom of playing than learning about business trades.

Momo was in awe as she saw the layers of blankets being taped to the walls and hung from the furniture. There were pillows everywhere on the floor providing them with a mass amount of seating options and she couldn’t believe she had never done this before.

“It's really not but I hope you will have a good time.”

“Any time with you is good.”

Jirou swore she saw a dust of pink on Momos cheeks. It was faint but the hope of her feelings died quickly as the other girl turned and pulled some items out of her back.

“I brought some snacks!.” She laid them in front of her as well as two very expensive looking tea cups. She almost didn't want to touch them.

Momo pulled out a thermos and began to pour. “I decided to go with a green tea and raspberry blend, something light but full of flavor. It comes from Spain back when my family visited there and the family that grows the tea leaves only makes ten batches a year because it's so hard to grow.” Momo stated and Jirou laughed as the dark red liquid filled the cup.

Momo opened a small tin of cookies which she informed her were from Scotland and an assortment of chocolates and mixed nuts that came all the way from Belgium and different regions of South america.

“Sorry if it's not enough.” she shuddered as Jirou bit into one of the chocolates and almost moaned at how creamy and delectable the taste was.

“Are you kidding? These are amazing.” She said as she popped another in her mouth. ��I only have some chips from the kitchen and you brought the entire world into my room.”

A giggle came from Momo's mouth as she took a sip from her tea. Even in her pajamas, she still looked fancy. “So lovely host, what are the activities for tonight?”

“Well my lovely guest.” Momo laughed at this. “I thought maybe a movie or show, some card games, possibly a pillow fight if we don't take this all down with us and of course some gossip and girl talk. No particular order.”

“Let's start with a card game.” Momo clapped her hands together before rummaging through her bag and pulling out a brand new set of cards. “I made these yesterday! I’ve been practicing on simple items and I hope they have the same texture as a regular set.”

Jirou took the deck and began to shuffle. They looked like regular cards and had the same lightness as well. She always became amazed whenever she witnessed her quirk in action. She began throwing the cards back and forth until they had a good amount then set the rest in the middle.

“Alright Yaoyorozu. Got any 2’s?” Jirou asked and a competitive game of Go Fish broke out.

After about six rounds of Go Fish, which Momo complained she only won two games and an unsuccessful round of Poker on Jirou’s part, the deck was tossed back into Momo’s fancy bag and ready for another time.

“Whats next?” Momo asked and Jirou shrugged.

“Your choice.” She gestured to her laptop that was ready to stream a movie, all the pillows and even a few coloring books that Mina had brought her.

Momo thought for a second before looking around. “It might be a little too early for a movie.” The sun was beginning to set and Jirou agreed.

“So what are you thinking?” She leaned back on her elbows and watched Momo’s ‘thinking’ face appear.

Her eyes widened with a spark as a grin appeared. She crawled through the small opening on the other side. Jirou popped in another chocolate candy as Momo had disappeared, she could see her shadows moving and heard a bit of movement.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to see?” Momo called out and even though it was a small room, it felt like she was miles apart from her.

“What's that?” Jirou answered as she ate another one. Gosh these were amazing.

Momo's head popped back into the fort and she scooted backwards towards her as she held something in her hands.

“Oh come on.” Jirou laughed as she wiped her fingers clean. “Really?” She smiled as she took the acoustic guitar from her.

“I’ve always wanted to see you play. Ever since the room tour I've been intrigued by your musical talents.”

Jirou never thought that being able to play an instrument was something super special. Anyone could really do it and it wasn’t exactly the hardest thing to learn. The fact that Momo sat tapping her fingers in anticipation waiting for her to play and actually wanting to hear her meant a lot.

She began to tune the guitar. She hadn’t played this particular one in awhile and she was thankful that she had soundproofed her room so that none of the other girls would hear her practically serenading Momo. The familiar strum of the guitar string brought her back to the days she would sit in her backyard and practice. She had always had a soft spot with the instrument. It felt the most personal and could help convey her feelings better than her other instruments could.

“Any particular song?” She asked and Momo looked up and tapped her chin.

“What about an original?”

That wasn’t what she expected. It took her back as she nervously strummed. She wanted to protest and tell her that she doesn’t write her own songs which would be a lie because mom has caught her writing before.

“Maybe the one you wrote in the park?” Momo added.

Jirou has written many songs before, most rock and roll songs and occasional pop songs but that one, that particular one was a love song. The only one she had written. She didn’t know that Momo was standing behind her that day as she was busy scribbling down her thoughts.

“I didn’t know you knew about that.” Jirou muttered as she hugged the guitar close to her chest. She was nervous to sing the song. It was personally and she was scared that momo would realize it was about her. But she shook off that thought and Momo settled down and stared at her like she was the most important thing.

She began playing the song, the words flowing along like a river. She kept her eyes shut as she played and began to lose herself in the song. If she wasn’t striving to be a hero, she probably would have studied music instead. The thought of writing songs for someone or performing them herself was something she had always dreamed of doing. Maybe once she becomes a professional hero, she might also part time as a musician.

She ended the song and opened her eyes. She was met with a small round of applause from Mom who looked like she genuinely enjoyed the performance.

“That was beautiful.” She commended her and Jirou brushed back a piece of hair before setting her guitar behind her.

“Thank you.” She replied. “I’ve never played any of my songs for anyone before.”

“Well thank you for letting me be the first one then.”

Jirou found herself blushing more today then she has in her entire life. She grabbed her laptop before flipping it open. “Movie time?” She asked as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart.

“Sounds good.”

The movie ended and the girls decided to sit in a comfortable silence as they checked their phones. Mina had been texting her, asking her how it was going and telling her to relax. She turned off her phone before relaxing again and just enjoying the presence of her friend.

“Who do you think would win in a fight? Denki or a jellyfish?” Jirou asked and Momo let out a loud laugh and covered her mouth.

“Denki.” Momo stated. And Jirou giggled.

“I’d pick the jellyfish.”

“That’s so mean!” But she continued to laugh anyways.

“No different then when you asked if Kirishima could beat a shark.”

“Which I think he can.” Momo added and their giggle faded off.

Jirou laid on her back facing the makeshift ceiling of the blankets and somehow began to count the number of dots on the pink blanket. Next to her was Momo who was laying on her side, finger toying with the frizz of the carpet.

“Can I ask you a question?” Momo said out of the blue. Her tone was different from the previous rounds of asking. It was soft and hesitant as if she was running it over and over in her mind.

“Yeah of course.” Jirou responded but never took her eyes off the blanket. So far she had counted twenty six dots.

“Why didn't you go out with Denki?”

She stopped counting and felt her body tense up. “I know he really liked you and you two seem like such good friends that I was surprised when you turned him down.” She continued.

Jirou felt the fears she desperately wanted to avoid surface and she tried to keep counting. She was at thirty seven now.

“ I liked someone else.” She said honestly and she heard Momo hum beside her. “Why do you ask?” She was met with silence. She took a chance and rolled on her side to face her.

She was met with a pair of eyes that seemed to hold an uncertainty as she looked at her. Momo's mouth was slightly parted open as if she wanted to say something but she didn’t trust herself. A silent tension was formed as the pair looked at each other.

“Jirou can I tell you a secret?” She asked and the other girl swore they could see tears forming in her eyes.

She felt worried seeing her friend like that and moved closer. “Of course.”

“Promise me whatever I say you will still be my friend?” Her eyes were now boring into hers. Almost like a plea.

“Momo, you can tell me anything.” Her voice was softer than anything Momo has heard before.

She turned her head and a single tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m gay.” Her voice was on the verge of breaking and she was terrified to look back at Jirou. She was scared that she would yell and be ashamed to be her friend or be mad for not telling her sooner. That fear of rejection played over and over in her mind and she was afraid that she made a giant mistake.

Instead she was pulled into a hug. Her arms immediately tightened around her frame as the other whispered how proud she was into her ears and she finally let all the tension and fears flow free in tears.

“Momo.” She pulled away and looked at her. “I will always be your friend, you never have to worry about that. You being gay wouldn’t make me care for you any less, plus I’m bisexual so I understand your fear of coming out. It can be scary but hey, I'm here for you.”

Momo wiped her tears away and her lips curled up.

“Are you okay?”

Momo only nodded. “Yes.” She took in another deep breath, calming herself down.

“Can I tell you a secret now?” Jirous said cautiously and Momo shook her head as the other girl began to lean in closer. “I was afraid to tell the person I liked how I felt.”

“I don’t think you should be.” The other girl whispered.

They were meant with another silence as their noses touched and their eyes met with a secret plea from each of them. A small smile appeared on Momos lips as she nodded and felt a soft pair of lips touch her own. It was hesitant and slow. Almost like testing the waters before diving straight in. She responded to the kiss and accepted it as she kissed the other girl back.

Jirou felt tears wet her cheeks as arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her impossibly closer. There was a rush of excitement as their lips parted and they each caught their own breaths.

“Wow.” Momo whispered and Jirou nodded.

“Wow indeed.” She laughed.

“Want to know something else?” Jirou turned her head. “That song was about you.”

“You, you wrote a song about me?” She asked and before she could respond, Jirou was pulled into another hug. “That makes it even more amazing.”

They each could barely contain their smiles until Jirou suggested that they watched another movie. Their fingers slowly entered as the movie played and every so often one of them would kiss the other girl's cheek, making them blush profusely.

Of course they had chosen a romantic love story and normally that wasn’t Jirous type of movie, she preferred action or even musicals, but as she watched the two characters fall in love on screen, she wouldn’t have chosen anything else.

It was well late into the night as the credits began to roll and a yawn escaped both of their lips. They fluffed their pillows before laying their heads down and faced each other. Momo brushed a piece of hair out of Jirous face and kissed her hand.

“I’m really happy you invited me over.” She said quietly.

“Me too.”

----

The sun came shining in and even with the mass amounts of blankets blocking the light, Jirou woke to a bright room. She rubbed at her eyes and looked to see a snoozing Momo. Even in her sleep she looked perfect as she hand her hands under her head and lips pushed slightly out. She reminded her of a sleeping princess, of course Momo was delicate and refined in every way of her life and it made jirou laugh a little making sleeping beauty flutter her eyes open.

“Good morning.” Momo smiled at her. She sat up and rubbed away the sleep before stretching her arms out and tried to not knock the blankets down. They were both thankful her hair was down because her massive ponytail would have taken the fort down the moment she got in.

Jirou grabbed her phone before looking at the time. “Wanna grab coffee?” She asked and Momo nodded quickly. They locked eyes for a second before the memories of last night came flooding back.

A blush spread on Jirous cheek as she remembered their kiss and soon she felt those plush lips on the corner of her mouth. “You are so cute when you turn pink.” She barely heard Momo as her brain was trying to register what was happening.

She grabbed the tips of her ear jacks and began tapping them together, a nervous trait she's had since she was a child but Momo thought it was quite adorable. “Um Yaoyorozu?” She asked. “Are we-”

“Oh.” Momo understood immediately. She picked up a brush and began to comb the ends of her hair. “I mean, I would love to. As long as you do that is?”

“Yes!” Jirou said maybe a little too fast for her own liking. “Coffee at ten?” She said before being met with a nod.

Momo leaned in and kissed her again and jirou swore she saw stars. She never thought that all this mushy and gushy romance stuff would be up her ally but she was finding herself enjoying it with each press of the lips and the giggles that followed.

Momo grabbed her bag before leaving to get dressed. “See you then.” She winked.

Jirou heard the door close and grabbed her pillow before doing a mix of a scream and a cheer into it. She never felt this light and happy before and maybe she was still on the first kiss bliss from last night but she never wanted that feeling to go away.

She got up and began to get ready, making sure she looked decent enough for her girlfriend. Girlfriend. The thought of holding her hands on their way to class and going on dates while they tell each other all their secrets and stories from their childhoods made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

She finished lacing her shoe before grabbing her phone and leaving her dorm room.

“So how’d it go?” Mina had bombarded her right as she closed her door.

Jirou couldn’t contain her smile as they walked down to the common room and told her everything, well mostly everything that happened. They entered the elevator and she swore Mina’s screech of joy could be heard all the way across campus and she made her calm down before the doors opened.

They found the other girls sitting around a table and Momo was sitting next to an empty chair. Jirou sat next to her and Tsuyu smiled.

“So Yaoyorozu, how was your first pillow fort sleepover?” The frog hero asked and Jirou could see her holding back a wide smile.

“Amazing.” She said before pecking Jirou’s cheek with a kiss making the girl turn beet red.

The other girls began to congratulate them and swoon over the fact that they were gonna be the cutest couple ever. Jirou met Momo’s beautiful brown eyes as they shared their own private moment and wrapped their fingers together.

“Best sleepover ever.” Jirou whispered to herself as she joined back into the conversation.

“Okay who would win in a fight? Bakugou or Godzilla?” Mina said as the table busted out laughing.

I hope you enjoyed this! It was a pleasure writing and working with you!

Commission info here

#jiroumomo #jirou x yaoyorozu #kyoka jirou #momo yaoyozoru #my hero academia #my hero oneshot #my hero fanfiction #fanfiction commissions #thewritingstar

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pikapeppa · 5 years

Text

Abelas/Lavellan angst: The Knife Again In My Soul

Thank you, @midnightprelude and @contreparry. ❤️ For @dadrunkwriting Friday.

Read on AO3 instead. ~2000 words.

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

He never said it when they were together.

It was not because Abelas didn’t have the chance. There were a multitude of moments when he could have told Athera that he loved her. Now that they are apart, with Abelas following faithfully at Fen’Harel’s side while Athera does her best to unravel their plans from afar, the memories of those many lost moments torture him during the times when there is nothing else to occupy his mind.

He could have said it when they were eating those tiny Orlesian cakes in the kitchen at Tarasyl’an Te’las. Her smile was secretive when she removed the cover from the platter of cakes, and the way she popped each whole cake in her mouth was endearingly common. He loved Athera, with her mischievous smile and the way she teased Solas for having a sweet tooth when she herself harboured a fiendish fondness for sugar.

But he didn’t tell her so.

He could have said it during one of the blissful and too-few times that they were making love. Abelas hadn’t been touched this way in over a thousand years, and Athera had all the eagerness and energy of youth, and the way they came together was… fenedhis, it was better than anything his vast and melancholy morass of memories could conjure. She arched into his fingers and his tongue in a way that made him feel so incredibly wanted, and she gave herself to him so completely, pouring a potent combination of emotion and desire into every kiss and every arching thrust as she brought herself down against his hips. He loved Athera, loved the heat of her tongue and the taste of the nectar between her legs and the sweet feeling of sinking inside of her.

But he didn’t tell her so.

He could have said it the last time he saw her in a dream, after Fen’Harel had taken the mark from her ill-fated arm. He should have said it then; it was their last chance, and both of them knew it. He should have said it before she woke, before the Fade faded away from her and stole her from his grasp. He loved Athera, loved her conviction and her commitment to her duty and how gently she touched him despite the barrier of their opposing goals.

But he didn’t tell her so. And now it is too late.

It has been a year since Abelas last saw Athera, and still he thinks of her late at night in those quiet and desolate moments when he lies on his pallet with nothing else to do. He thinks of her, running over the memories of their too-brief time together, and he thinks of how he loves her and how she never knew.

It is on one of these lonely nights that he visits Tarasyl’an Te’las in a dream. The Dread Wolf’s old stronghold is empty once again, abandoned shortly after Fen’Harel revealed himself to Athera. As per Fen’Harel’s extensive network of agents, the Inquisition now operates as a series of connected cells in disparate places across the continent, and Abelas knows that Fen’Harel both approves of the Inquisition’s decentralization and pities their attempts to keep up with him.

Abelas can’t decide how he feels about this mixture of approval and pity. But he knows that Athera would be angry if she knew of her former best friend’s pity, and this is enough to make his heart ache.

He treads softly through the fortress in his dream, nodding graciously to the many spirits that hover here and skimming over the memories that are stored in the ancient stones. He soon finds himself in her bedroom — the bedroom that she shared with him during the precious handful of nights they spent together. It is his intention to sink into the memories here, to torture himself by gorging on the moments of their love that have sunk into this sacred space.

But the room is already occupied by spirits, and they are gathered around the writing desk.

Curious, Abelas approaches the desk, then stops short in shock: there are three letters on the desk, and the letters are made of parchment. Mundane parchment from her world, which has somehow found its way into the Fade.

Even more shocking is the fact that the letters are addressed to him – addressed in her large and loopy handwriting.

His pulse is pounding in his ears. Numbly, carefully, he picks the first letter up. It is dated Drakonis 16: nine months ago.

Abelas,

I wonder if this will get to you? I honestly have no idea. I burned this letter in a veilfire torch as an experiment. Solas Your precious friend Fen’Harel said veilfire straddles our world and the Fade, so I figured, what’s the harm? Worse comes to worst, I wrote and burned a letter. It’ll hardly be the craziest thing I’ve ever done. Actually, it’s probably better if this doesn’t get to you. I just hope it doesn’t pop into the Fade on some poor unsuspecting spirit’s head.

I wonder how you are. I’m doing great. I just realized I can’t tell you anything else about what I’m doing because you’ll just take it back to fucking Fen’Harel. I hate miss you.

Since I can’t tell you anything meaningful, here are some random thoughts instead.

Deep mushroom is terrible on cakes and in tea. Don’t trust Orlesian tastes.

Why are there so many words for the colour blue? Cerulean, navy, midnight, ocean, sky, indigo… are there this many words for colours in old Elvhen? I bet there are even more. Elvhen seems tricky that way.

What would happen if I cut my hair? Would the voices from the Vir’Abelasan stop making my hair dance around in my dreams? Probably not. Either way, I’m thinking about cutting my hair.

I’m reading ‘This Shit Is Weird’ again for nostalgia reasons and I love the way Varric portrayed Blackwall Thom. He’s such a romantic hero, and Varric got him pegged. I swear that even Cassandra swoons over it.

Crystal grace is my favourite flower. Did I ever tell you that? It’s so pretty.

That’s all I can think of for now.

Love, Athera

There are splotches in the ink on the second half of the letter, like the echoes of teardrops on the parchment, and Abelas can’t breathe. It feels like there is a vice compressing his ribs.

He picks up the second letter. It is dated from five months ago.

Dear Abelas,

Some more random thoughts.

Who do you think was the first person who looked at a nug and thought, ‘you know what I should do? Breed this little creature to be huge so I can ride it into battle.’ Who did that? Who thought that was a good idea? I love nuggalopes, don’t get me wrong, but still. They’re sort of obscene.

The Grand Tourney is quite fun to watch. Thom and Varric brought me to see it. It’s basically this big sparring competition that happens in the Free Marches. I would never have gone before the Inquisition because, you know, Dalish. So I guess that’s something nice that’s come out of this.

Sometimes I lie awake in the middle of the night and wonder what it would feel like if I just stopped breathing. If I just held my breath and didn’t

I talked Dorian into reading sections of ‘Swords and Shields’ to me at night through the sending crystal when I can’t sleep. It’s so funny that I swear I can’t breathe from laughing by the time he finishes a page. Maevaris must think he’s gone mad.

Love, Athera

Abelas wipes his face and picks up the third and final letter. It is dated from two months ago.

Abelas,

Some random thoughts:

Here are some of the many words for red: carmine, scarlet, blood, ruby, pomegranate, tomato, cherry – no, now I’m just listing foods. I must be hungry.

Isn’t it strange how some grass feels nice and soft under your feet, and some grass is pokey and it just tickles you? Grass is strange. All plants are strange, really. (I am not high, I promise.)

I managed to land a hit on Thom the other day when he was training me with a sword and the shield for my missing arm. Considering that I’m all unbalanced, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.

I love you. I hate that I love you. I hate that I still fucking miss you. I thought about asking Cole to make me forget you before he went back to the Fade, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I should have. I wonder if he would have done it.

Love, Athera

He stares numbly at the letters. He should take them to Fen’Harel. There may be clues in these letters, hints about the Inquisition’s activity that Solas will be able to pick out due to familiarity with its people. Besides, it is important for Fen’Harel to know that burning an item in veilfire sends it to the Fade. Perhaps he is already aware, but it is something that Abelas didn’t know; there is still much he doesn’t fully understand about the way the deadened world interacts with the potency of the Fade.

He sinks to his knees and stares at the letters. She was writing to him all this time. Writing to him without knowing that he would ever see these letters. Writing to him because she missed him and wished that they could speak.

Athera was writing to him because she loves him. And Abelas never told her so.

The pain is like a howling pit in his chest. The spirits are crowding around him and crooning with his reflected sorrow, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that their company only hurts him more.

He remains in her bedroom for time uncounted. He reads the letters again and again, hearing her sunny laugh in his head and imagining her clear grey eyes filling with tears as they did so many times – too many times – during their short time together. He reads the letters again and again, his gaze lingering on the love that marks the end of each one.

He should show the letters to Fen’Harel. He knows the price of betraying the Dread Wolf, the price paid by the slow arrow, and it is a price that Abelas can ill afford, not while he still has a duty to fulfill to his people and to Mythal.

He wonders if Athera will write more letters. There was no final farewell on the most recent one.

He wonders if he wants her to.

By the time he rises to his feet to leave Tarasyl’an Te’las, his heart is so heavy that it’s a wonder he can stand. He lingers for a moment, his gaze on the bed they shared — the bed they lay in together and moved in together and talked in until the deepest hours of the night.

He never told Athera he loved her, because he didn’t want to make this harder for her. The love Abelas harbours is selfish, an empty offering that has given her nothing but pain and a binding more cruel than the kind that those Tevinter mages place on the spirits they seek to control. He never told her he loved her, hoping that if the words remained unsaid, the consequences would be less painful for them both.

He stares at her letters. In these words of devotion written in her hand, his naïveté and his denial are laid bare, and Abelas wishes with his entire broken heart that he had told her while he had the chance.

He wipes his tear-stained face. She is no longer here in the place where they talked and laughed and moved together in a torrid tempest of desperation, and he doesn’t know if she will ever come back.

He takes a deep breath. Then, far too late, he tells her.

“I love you, Athera,” he whispers. “You deserved better than a tired old warrior like me.”

His words rise into the air to join the spirits still clamouring around him, and in their nebulous and never-ending memories, he knows his love will stay here forever.

He folds the letters carefully and places them in the pouch at his belt. Then, with one last lingering look at her bed, Abelas steps out of the Fade.

#abelas #abelas fic #abelas/lavellan #abelas x lavellan #abellan #angst #pikapeppa writes #pikapeppa cries #i love them so much and i miss them #thank you for giving me the opportunity to write them again Middy

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arlakos · 5 years

Text

Discovery, an Anti-Hero Queen Bee story.

Marinette groaned as she again arrived just in the nick of time into class. With the Bee Miraculous still presumed missing, Hawkmoths Akumas and the rumors of an unknown hero stopping crime gangs, the scarlet heroine in disguise was really tired as of late, to the point where she had little time to do any sketches for new clothing ideas. It honestly felt a bit miserable.

Surprisingly though, being a Guardian was ok, at least for the time being. Fu had left an email and a password for her, revealing a digital copy of the Miraculous book but completely decoded, allowing her to read the book and learn about the Miraculi and the Guardians. Fu also left some videos explaining some important tibits about the order and the Miraculous in the event he could not explain it himself. While she hadn’t got the chance to read the entirety of the book, she hoped that it would help her in stopping Hawkmoth. And hiding the Miracle Box had also been easy as well for the time being.

Still, her easy Guardian Life didn’t help with her considerably more difficult normal and hero lives, as she came into class with an extra-strong coffee and a loud yawn.

“Marinette. I am glad you got here on time, but I do recommend that you set your alarm early.” Ms. Bustier said, with a small frown on her face.

“(Yawn) Sorry Miss Bustier,” Marinette replied sleepily.

Ms. Bustiers face shifted from disappointment to concern. “I also recommend that you take the opportunity to get some proper sleep. While I understand that you have responsibilities outside of school, it should never impact your ability to function. Please do take the time to get some proper sleep. I can call your family to recommend they put you off work for a while if you wish. I understand it can be busy at times at your family bakery.”

“Wha-Nono, it's fine! My family doesn't make me work all the time. I have just been... spending too much time working on some designs! My imagination leaves me up all the time” Marinette lied, hoping she sounded convincing enough. “It’s not an issue, I’ll just stop working on the designs for a while to sleep. Besides, I’m fine now! I’ve got a cup of coffee. See?” she said as she raised her latte.

Ms. Bustier frowned in worry. “Very well. But if you keep coming to school tired, I will have to call your parents.”

“Got it.”

“And drinking a coffee doesn't count as resting. It’s not healthy.”

“Yes Ms. Bustier,” Marinette said as she sat down next to Alya. The bell rings, and everyone gets their books out.

Later on, as they get into some course work, Alya leans into Marinette. “Girl, are you alright? You have been coming into class tired as of late. And coffee? Since when did you like coffee?”

Marinette raised her cup in response “It’s an acquired taste.” she replied as she took another sip, “Besides, like your one to talk.” Marinette said as she points towards Alya’s own.

Alya smiles. “Touche Marinette. Anyway, have I got news for you...”

“What, another Akuma fight? If I had a euro for every time you sent me another video-”

“It’s even better!” She leans into Marinette’s ear “I managed to get a video of the unknown hero!”

“What?!” Marinette refrained herself from yelling as she whisper-yelled to Alya.

“It’s true, I managed to get a video as I went out with my family the other night. Apparently, they managed to stop another drug deal as it was going down. The cops had shown up when I saw the hero leave. I managed to get a recording of the hero leaving, but I couldn't really tell much of it-”

“Ahem! Alya, what did I say about talking in class?” Ms. Bustier said from the front of the class.

Alya sheepishly grinned “Sorry Ms. Bustier. I’ll stop.”

“Please see to it that you do. You have your midterm exams soon, and I want you all to be prepared.” Ms bustier says as she turns to the board, saying the last part to the whole class.

As Bustier is writing on the board, Alya slips a note to Marinette.

“Talk after class.”

Marinette nods and looks at the board...

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

After class finishes, the two friends sit outside at one of the tables.

“So... the video?” Marinette asks.

Alya nods, and shows the video of the hero leaving the crime scene, Alya pauses on a part where the details are much more clearer.

“Sorry, this was all I could get. They were really far, and the quality started to drop. Isn’t it exciting?!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Marinette says as she squints her eyes at the picture.

“Girl? You ok?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Hey, could you send me a copy?”

“Sure! No problem! Normally you don’t really tend to like these kinda things but that new hero does seem interesting huh?”

“Yeah. They are.” Marinette says as the looks the image on her own phone.

Based on the look of the hero, it was clear from the get-go that the hero was female, given the particular body shape. So with that far being known, that narrows the search down by half, which was still a lot.

What was interesting about the hero was that the suit had none of the key characteristics that most of the other heroes had about their costumes. Even from the glimpse in the book about the Miraculi, it had little to no identifiable markings of what animal it represented. The suit seemed to be mostly a black or very dark color, and despite it seeming to have a few bright-colored stripes, it was impossible to tell what color they were as there was very little lighting.

Worse still, the hero was wearing a helmet, so it was impossible to tell if the hero was wearing a miraculous on their head.

So this left Marinette with some details

1.The hero was a female.

2.The suit had no identifiable markings, color scheme, or miraculous, so its possible that the wielder wasn’t a miraculous wielder.

3. Another possible idea was that Hawkmoth kept the Bee Miraculous and that he akumatised someone with it to be his agent to infiltrate the team. Although considering that the hero made no move to get close to the miraculous team, it was very unlikely. Though it could just also be possible that Hawkmoth hated drugs. That would be a shocker.

“So, what do you think?” Alya asked.

“It’s cool Alya. I just think there isn’t much info for you to go by with anything.”

“But still! Wouldn’t it be cool if we had a new hero?! Fighting alongside the forces of Ladybug and Cat Noir and Rena...” Alya trailed off, as her smile shifted into a frown.

Marinette reacted normally, but inside she grimaced. After Lila joined Hawkmoth, she had to tell the heroes what had happened to them after the battle, and how it was likely none of them could become heroes again due to the risk of Hawkmoth knowing who they were. Alya had taken it the worst, with her crying on Nino’s shoulder after the explanation. Alya had ended up taking out her anger on the now-abandoned Lila after the events. Marinette wasn’t sure what had happened, but after Alya left the bathroom after she had confronted Lila, the latter came out later with tears on her face and a look of fear. She had ended up leaving school a week later and moving to another one nearby, which she assumed was because of Alya threatening Lila with something, likely threatening to reveal her as a willing accomplice working with Hawkmoth.

Marinette however, waited normally and waited for her to recover.

“S-So! Still. A new hero huh?” Alya said although Marinette could tell she was not in the mood like before.

“Are you ok Alya?”

“N-nothing! I-I’m fine. I-I...I have to go.” Alya said as she ran off to the bathroom.

Marinette looked at the retreating Alya with worry, before looking at the photo containing the masked hero...

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

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Marinette?”

Marinette finally returned home after the long day of studying.

“Is it possible for a miraculous wielder to change their outfit’s colors?”

“Well yes, Marinette. Any wielder can change the design of the outfit to fit their-”

“I’m not talking about the design, I’m talking about the colors. Can they change those?”

“Huh, why do you ask?” Tikki says as she munched on a macaron.

“This new hero that has come out... she started to appear after Hawkmoth akumatised Miracle Queen, but she doesn’t seem to be anyone I know of... the suit she has also had stripes.” Marinette says as she shows Tikki the photo.

Tikki glances at the photo, then back at Marinette. “Why is that important?”

“Because only Queen Bee has stripes Tikki, or at least stripes of those type.”

“They didn't look yellow though. Are you sure its Chloe? It could just be some other person. Besides, I don’t think they were wearing a miraculous.”

“I dunno. I mean, I never saw her wear a miraculous to school, but that doesn’t mean that she couldn’t have worn it. So Tikki, is it possible that a suit can change colors?”

“Hmm... I don’t know?”

“You... don’t?”

“Nobody has ever tried it. For the most part, all wielders have chosen their designs based on what they are comfortable with, but none of them have ever attempted to change the color of their suit. It might be possible, but nobody has ever tried to do so.

“Well, if we are going to find out, there’s only one way to do so. Tikki, spots on!”

As Tikki entered the miraculous, Marinette focused.

‘Ok Miraculous. Please make my suit to be as stealthy as possible. I don't care how you do it, just make sure it works and that it has little of my color as possible As far as I’m concerned, I want no one to be able to recognize me as Ladybug!’

A bright flash emanated the room, and as the light fell, Marinette looked at herself in the mirror... and shock filled her body.

If Ladybug's bright, spandex covered body was the most detectable outfit she could have made, then this outfit was the complete opposite. The suit’s color was almost completely gone, leaving a black suit with dark red rings, but unlike the other suit, weren’t completely filled.

Her face, however, was also indistinguishable from her normal Ladybug self. She wore a hood over the top of her head, and her mouth was covered by a face mask, though it did not impact her breathing. Her mask was still there, but the red was extremely darker than usual.

To sum it all up, she looked nothing like her usual self.

“Tikki...Spots off.” Marinette said though it was a surprise when the mask changed her voice somewhat to sound different. As the suit fell, Tikki came out in shock.

“Oh my... you really can change the color of the outfit.”

“Yeah Tikki... but now this just makes the situation worse. It’s likely that whoever is the hero is using the bee miraculous, as we now know it can be disguised.”

“But that still doesn’t answer the question of who the person is. For all we know, it could be someone else.”

“Hmm... maybe,” Marinette said to herself. She suddenly ran off and grabbed her phone, along with photo book

“But I know someone who can help. Tikki, spots On!”

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

Max Kante smiled to himself as he finished making the final adjustments to Markov’s power container. As he closed the panel and replaced the rechargeable power back, Markov came back online.

“So... how do you feel?” Max asked.

“Quite efficient!” Markov declared making a spin in the air. “Thanks to the modifications you made, I know consume power at a rate of 20 percent less than the previous design. According to my calculations, I should be able to remain functional for up to an additional hour!”

“I’m glad! But it shouldn’t be a major problem for now! Let's go and recover Markov, I have to be ready tomorrow for another day of test revision.”

Max went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, afterward he slipped into a pair of pajamas as he felt the air from the open window on his body-

Wait a second, Max didn’t open his window-

“Max!”

Max yelled as a person dressed in black appeared in his hindsight. Max fell backward in shock

“Ah! Who are you? What do you want?! Please don’t take my stuff, I have been working on a new gadget for too long to lose it! Max, activate the-”

“Nono, please stop! I’m- goddamn this stupid mask and its voice change!” The intruder said before they pulled it down, revealing a familiar face to Max. “I’m Ladybug.”

“Ladybug? Oh thank god you’re not here to steal my stuff. Speaking of which, why are you here and what is with the change in the outfit? According to my calculations, there is a 95% chance that people would mistake you for a criminal-” Max said before being interrupted.

“Yeah I know, I was trying something different with the outfit and I forgot to change it back. But that’s not the problem. I need your help.”

“Oh sure,” Max said as he stood back up “What is the issue.”

“I found from an anonymous source a picture of the hero that has been working at night. It’s pretty low rez, but I was hoping you could help me find out who it was?”

“That is possible, but what’s with the worry.”

“I have a feeling that the person is the wearer of the Bee Miraculous. That Miraculous was lost when Hawkmoth akumatised Lila into Miracle Queen”

“...That is a good point.” Max said after a brief pause. “Alright, send me the photo.”

Ladybug used her yoyo to send the picture to Max, having gotten the photo from her own phone. Max plugged his phone into the computer, and the image showed up.

“Normally, such photos would be impossible to be recognized from a distance. But thankfully as it is still digital, I can use my enhancement application to clear up the photo and make it more visible. Also, it's really good for photoshop.”

As Max got to work with the app, a minute later, the image started to finally become clearer. Ladybug could see the stripes on the outfit, and although they were positioned differently, she could clearly see they were yellow, a trait shared only with the Bee Miraculous. Though the person wasn’t wearing a miraculous

“There, does this help in your goals?” Max, asked.

“Not yet,” Ladybug replied.

Marinette gave Max a photo.

“I got this from a girl named Marinette, who takes a lot of photos of your class.”

Max took the photo in confusion. “This is a picture of Chloe. Why would you-” realization crossed his face. “Oh. So you think this new hero is Chloe.”

Ladybug nodded. “Not entirely, but I have to be sure. Do you or Markov have an app that can match body types.”

“Uh... W-Well not at the moment but-”

��Not to worry!” Markov exclaimed to Ladybug. “We should be able to come up with an app with that function pretty soon. If you give us at least 16.5 hours and 10 minutes, not only will the app be done, but we should have the results for you as well. Since we already have your hero contact number, we’ll send you the results as soon as possible.

Ladybug smiled. “Thank you Markov. And thank you Max, for helping with the image.”

“Not a problem, we’ll have the results after school for you.”

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The next day Marinette had class as usual with Alya, who for the most part recovered from yesterday, but still seemed melancholic. Still, it didn't stop them from spending the rest of the day as normal.

For lunch, however, Alya was busy doing something, so Marinette was left alone to eat by herself.

As Marinette was finishing off her sandwich, she saw Chloe sitting by herself on another table, probably deciding for once to eat at school instead of the hotel. Marinette decided to take an opportunity. Marinette walked up to her at the table.

“Hi Chloe.”

Chloe turned to Marinette. “Dupain-Cheng” she replied rather cordially, although a little surprised.

Marinette was a little shock expected a sneering voice instead of a non-insulting tone, but it either Chloe wasn’t in the mood today, or she actually was trying to be nice. ‘Though to be fair, it was probably the former,’ Marinette thought as she looked at Chloe.

“I’m sorry, is there something on my face? Spit it out, I’m in the middle of having lunch.”

‘And there it is,’ Marinette though. Sighing, she pulled out her phone. “Sorry Chloe, I just wanted to show you something. I got this photo a couple of days ago. I just wanted to see if you recognized the person in the photo.”

With a raised eyebrow, Chloe carefully took the phone from Marinette and had a look at the image. While she was looking, Marinette was noting if Chloe seemed to recognize the person in the photo or anything else that could give her away.

Chloe however, seemed just as confused by it as she was because she showed no signs of recognition. ‘Either that or she is really good at hiding it,’ a doubtful part of her mind though.

“It’s a person wearing a suit and a helmet. What am I supposed to know about it?”

“Me and Alya were talking the other day.” Marinette said “We were having a look at the image, and the suit, while mostly black, happened to have some bright colored stripes. Naturally, the image was taken in the dark, so we couldn’t be sure. But they did seem to be… yellow.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Look. I’m going, to be frank. We think the person was using the Bee Miraculous.”

That seemed to get a reaction out of Chloe. Her eyebrows frowned, she was gritting her teeth as she stared down angrily, and her fist was trembling, as well as the rest of her body. For a second, Marinette was worried she pressed the wrong button.

Instead, however, Chloe let out and angry puff and slumped. “So I got replaced, huh?”

“What?” Marinette asked.

Chloe looked at Marinette. She recomposed herself, but it was obvious she was still angry. “I don’t know who that person is, Marinette. Ladybug hadn’t given me the miraculous since that day with Sabrina. I had hoped that after that day, that Ladybug would have called me again to help her. It wasn’t like I was the only one with their identity revealed, Kagami was as well! But I’m guessing this pic made it final huh?”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense. Why would Ladybug give a person a miraculous if they don't even help with the akuma-”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!” Chloe yelled. Seeing the outburst attracted some attention, Chloe calmed down again, though she was clearly at her limit. “I thought I knew Ladybug. That she was kind and amazing, and that she thought of me as a friend. But it seems like I don’t. Not with this new ‘hero’ running around with my miraculous.” Chloe said angrily, as though expecting it belonged to her. “It seems Ladybug has her own secrets. Perhaps she is not as trustworthy as people think if she can just leave people like her name is Audrey-” Chloe stopped as if realizing what she was about to say. Marinette grimaced as she realized what she had done to Chloe

“Chloe-” Marinette started to speak, only to be cut off by Chloe’s raise of a hand.

“I really don’t want to talk about it. Thank you Marinette, thanks to you, I learned that i was unceremoniously replaced, abandoned by Ladybug just like my Mom and that Ladybug seems to have her own secrets to keep, and I also lost my appetite.” Chloe started to pack away the remains of her lunch. “I think I’ll go for a walk now. Have a good day Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Chloe I am so sorry-”

“Just. Go.”

Chloe walked off, and Marinette stood there feeling more confused and sad than ever, and with more questions than answers.

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The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Marinette was walking home when Tikki popped up from the bag.

“Max has sent a message! I think he’s got the results ready!”

So this was the moment of truth.

Marinette slipped into a nearby alleyway, and with a flash of light, Ladybug jumped from the top of the alleyway onto the nearest rooftop. Opening the yoyo, Ladybug looked at the screen that popped up and hesitated.

Ladybug hoped that she was wrong, that she was wrong with the belief that Chloe was this masked assailant. Chloe didn’t seem to carry around a miraculous around with her in school, else she probably would have bragged about having it with her or try to keep it close to her. Plus Chloe seemed genuinely torn apart when Marinette presented the knowledge that the person was wearing the Bee miraculous instead of her and believing that Ladybug had abandoned her, which had left Marinette with a sore feeling for the rest of the day. Sure, it was still a big issue on who the masked hero was and where the Bee miraculous was, but at least it meant that Chloe was being honest.

Still, one way or another, Ladybug had to know the truth. Ladybug opened the message and began reading.

HELLO THERE. MAX HERE.

LIKE I PROMISED, MARKOV WAS ABLE TO DEVELOP A PROGRAM TO ANALYSE THE BODY SHAPES OF THE MASKED ASSAILANT AND CHLOE TO SEE IF THEY MATCHED. IT UNFORTUNATELY TOOK A WHILE TO DO SO, AS WHEN ANALYSING THE IMAGES, THE WAS SOME SORT OF ERROR IN THE SYSTEMS THAT KEPT PREVENTING US FROM LOOKING AT THE IMAGES.

LUCKILY MARKOV HAD IDENTIFIED THE EFFECTS OF THE ERROR AND CONCLUDED WITH A 99% CONFIDENCE IT WAS SOME SORT OF MAGICAL GLAMOUR THAT IS GENERATED TO PROTECT THE MIRACULOUS WIELDERS, WHICH LIKELY CONFIRMS THE THEORY THAT THE MASKED INDIVIDUAL IS EQUIPPED WITH A MIRACULOUS.

UNFORTUNATELY, THIS MEANT WE HAD TO DEVELOP A SUBPROGRAM TO HELP REMOVE THE DISTORTION ERRORS, BUT EVEN THEN I HAVE NO CLUE IF THE PROGRAM HAS DONE ITS JOB SUCCESSFULLY, AS THERE WERE A LOT OF GLITCHES BEING CAUSED BY THE GLAMOU, AND IT COULD ALSO HAVE BEEN FABRICATED BY THE MAGIC.

IN ANY CASE, HERE ARE THE RESULTS

CHEERS

MAX AND MARKOV

RESULTS

ANALYSIS

UNKNOWN INDIVIDUAL=CHLOE BOURGEOIS - 95% SIMILAR BODY TYPES

P<0.05 -STATISTICALLY VIABLE

….

Ladybug almost wanted to throw the yoyo onto the ground.

Ladybug sent the results to her actual phone, put the yoyo away, and zipped back home, all the while ignoring the feelings of anger, betrayal, and sadness that welled up within her.

Ladybug stopped by the bakery and dropped into the alleyway. Ladybug transformed back into Marinette and entered the side bakery door.

“Hello my little flower? How was you da-” Tom said with a smile, but was quickly brushed aside by Marinette.

“Not right now papa!” Marinette said as she stormed past him.

“Marinette!” Sabine said in shock and anger. “What is the matter with you-” Upon seeing Marinette’s face filled with tears, Sabine's face softened into worry and concern. “Marinette did something happen at school today?”

Marinette shook her head, although with the tears in her face it didn’t give much satisfaction to her parents worried. “No there wasn’t. I-I just can't talk about this! I’m sorry!”

Marinette quickly marched up to her room, opening and closing the hatch to her room hurriedly.

Marinette threw her bag onto her bed, sat in her chair and started sobbing. Tikki flew out of the bag a moment later, with worry visible on her face.

“Marinette-”

“She lied to me Tikki. She looked at me and lied straight to my face! Both as Ladybug and as Marinette!”

“Marinette, calm down, you need to think about this rationally-”

“Calm Down? Calm Down?!” Marinette angrily said as she stood up from her chair “You saw the results! I had been entrusted by Master Fu to keep the box of the Miraculi safe! Just one miraculous being lost was enough for someone like Hawkmoth to grip the city with fear! With Mayura helping him, we almost lost had Fu not given up his memories to prevent Hawkmoth from finding out who we were! What would happen if there was a third one missing and used in bad hands, without me knowing where it was?!”

“Marinette, nothing has happened for you to warrant acting this way! Chloe may have taken the miraculous, but there haven’t been reports of her doing anything bad! Even if she did deceive you, there’s no excuse for you to act like she could go bad at any moment.”

“But what if she does?! What if Hawkmoth akumatises her and takes the miraculous from her?! What if she decides to use her powers for her own gain, or Mayura persuades her to join them when I have no idea where the Miraculous is! She stole the Miraculous Tikki, without my knowledge! And I’m not going to let her get away with it.”

“Then, what are you going to do?!” Tikki said frustratingly.

“I’m going to go to that hotel and take back the miraculous, that’s what!”

“You can’t! If you go to the hotel with the way you are now, they’ll assume you have gone rogue. And if you attack Chloe while she is surrounded by hotel staff, you could risk someone being akumatised!”

Marinette paused for a moment. “You’re right,” she said calmly, though tense. “I can’t do that.”

Tikki sighed. “Thank you, Marinette. Now, let's take some time to calm down. Let’s draw a couple of things, listen to some music, and tonight we can talk to Chat Noir and discuss this- Wait.” Tikki turned to see Marinette walk away. “Where are you going?!”

Marinette walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a chest, opening it to reveal the miracle (egg) box. Tikki watched as she pressed the spots on the egg, which opened to reveal the miraculi inside. Marinette took a nearby bag and started taking the Miraculi out. The Fox, turtle, dragon, monkey, snake, and Horse miraculous all went into the bag. Marinette almost reached for the bunny miraculous, but instead left it there.

“Marinette, what are you doing?”

“Chloe has been making appearances at night. One the same days we don’t have patrol. Tonight is one of those nights. I’ll sneak off to give everyone their respective miraculi, and with everyone there, we’ll sneak up and take back the Bee! Then everything will go back to normal. As it should be.” Marinette said confidently as she zipped up the bag.

“Wait Marinette, don’t do this. We should talk about this-”

“Not this time! I lost my mentor, my team, and almost my partner because of everything. I won’t hesitate! Tikki , Spots on!”

Tikki was reluctantly sucked into the miraculous, and Ladybug stood in Marinette’s place, this time wearing the stealth suit.

As it was now the afternoon, and very dark, Ladybug zipped out of her room into the night. Going to where Alya (and by extension Nino, who was with her tonight) should be, Ladybug resolved never to let anything like this happen again. She would take down Queen Bee, take the Bee Miraculous back, and everything would be back to normal, everything safe and sound. And she would never let Chloe touch the Bee miraculous again.

For the first time since losing her Master and friend, Ladybug was angry

And she was out for blood.

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That was the first part of a two-part story. Confrontation (the second chapter) should be done sometime later! If anyone has any questions about the AU, feel free to send an ask about the AU and I’ll try to reply as soon as I can! No spoilers about the next part though (even if I did point it out in my first AU post).

Also many thanks (as always!) to @twin-books, who helped me polish the ideas about my AU and has always been there to help!

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug AU #Season 4 AU #long-fic #Anti-Hero Queen Bee AU #A fair bit of Angst #Chloe redemption

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