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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 17

TW: Mention of rape

Words Count: 1.9k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 18

[Jimin, 4:35PM] Be ready for formal dinner at 7.

You received the text three hours ago. And that’s why you’re here now standing in front of the mirror as you take one last look of yourself. It doesn’t take long for you to get ready. You don’t have much knowledge in make ups anyway. So you just lightly put anything on.

To be honest, you don’t want to go. You haven’t talk to Jimin since last two days and he didn’t come home as well.

But who are you to say no. It’s one of your contract clause with him to accompany your husband in all functions as and when needed.

You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling somehow estranged at your own reflection. You’re wearing a V neck long burgundy satin dress that Taehyung gave you when he dropped by this evening.

When you head downstairs afterwards, you see your husband with his back on you, speaking to his bodyguards. Their eyes travel to you, informing Jimin of your presence. He turns towards you and you almost stop in your tracks.

He’s dressed in immaculate black suit which you assume is Valentino as well to match yours, his hair tousled to the back, he looks so handsome you feel your heart racing as you take his appearance. You had to remind yourself you both aren’t in speaking terms.

Jimin on the other hand, has his gaze on you for only a fleeting second until he looks everywhere else except you.

The ride in the car is exceptionally quiet as well. Jimin only speaks when he informs you that the function is held by Jaehyun, his cousin’s family.

When you arrive, Jimin got out first and offers you his hand automatically since there are tons of photographers and people from medias.

You realize the function is held at a huge mansion you assume is owned by Jaehyun’s family. Jimin leads you through the long porches towards a garden that’s been well decorated with beautiful lights, tables in white linen clothes and all kinds of flowers hanging on every nook and corner.

The function turns out to be a charity event collaborated with UNICEF you’re pretty sure is only part of their CSR responsibility. Everything goes by in almost a blur, with you sitting silently most of the time and zoning out, clapping only when you hear others.

Everyone is dressed stunningly in all their suits and long evening gown and everyone seems to know each other, you note. Well obviously since this is a family event with close family members and friends which you feel nothing like you’re part of it at all. Your fingers find your wedding ring on your chest, grasping it tight.

Even your husband has been completely ignoring you, talking animatedly to someone beside him. The main event is now done with most items being auctioned off, so you tug Jimin’s sleeve a little to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Most people are getting up for a slow waltz but Jimin doesn’t seem to have any plan for it so you just quietly slip yourself out of the garden and find your way to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, you reapply lipstick that is barely gone at all and fix your dress that barely needs fixing at all.

Once you’re done, you find your way out and heads back to the garden. Or so you thought.

Walking mindlessly, you somehow reach the end of the stony pathway and that’s when you start to panic.

At the same time, you suddenly got the eerie feeling of being watched. Hearts pounding, you turn around, searching for the source of your unease. But there’s nothing, except darkness.

Perhaps you’re just being paranoid.

You retreat using the same path but weirdly, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. It’s eerily quiet and you can almost hear everything since the music playing at the garden sounds like a hum now from the distance.

As if on cue, you hear little footsteps shuffling from behind you. Yet when you turn, there’s nothing but darkness.

Getting even more freaked out now, you start to walk even quicker. Throwing side glances everywhere, at one point you start to run as fast as the heels would allow you.

Too busy craning your head around, you don’t see a figure in front of you. You let out a scream when your vision turns black as your body crashes against the solid figure.

“Hey- hey Y/N calm down-“ the voice is familiar. But it does little to calm your anxiety. “It’s me, Jaehyun.”

You lean back to take a good look and realize it really is Jaehyun. Unknowingly, you let out a sigh of relief. “Ah- it’s you-“ you say, though body still trembling and heart still racing.

Jaehyun’s gaze drop down to match yours. “You okay? Were you lost?”

“Uh yeah- I just thought-“ you glance once again behind you, “nevermind.” Only now do you realize that Jaehyun has his arms around your waist to support you so you quickly step out of his arms. You forgot that you aren’t in friendly terms with him.

Jaehyun seems to notice your change of demeanor and sees you trying to jerk away. He drops his hand instantly, probably not wanting to give the wrong signal to you. “Hey. I was looking for you just now.” He smiles and if it wasn’t for his personality, you’d probably swoon at his dimpled smile. He starts to walk and you follow his pace beside him.

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologize for last time, you know. That was really rude of me. Please forgive me.” He stops in his track and you look at him to see that he’s staring intently at you. His eyes tells you that he’s being genuine so you just nod. You’d probably nod anyway even if you don’t forgive him. Plus, he saved you from getting lost.

You both arrive at the end of the stony pathway but it isn’t dark like the one you found just now. Instead, it’s just dimly lit and deserted but the bushes and flowers are all well trimmed. You place your hand on the English style white fence in front of you as you stare out the grassy meadow. You honestly believe there’s no end to the open darkness you briefly wonder how rich Jaehyun’s family must be to have such huge estate.

The two of you exchange conversations and you end up laughing hard on several occasions. Now that you’re having conversations with him, you realize he isn’t so bad.

“So, how’s married life?” Jaehyun asks as he leans on his elbow on the fence, body facing towards you.

“Don’t you think the question’s a bit late?” You smile in amusement.

He chuckles. “I suppose it is. But hey, don’t blame me. Blame your husband instead. He loves to keep you hidden.”

“In the dark,” you mutter under your own breath.

“You know,” he starts as he stares out into the open darkness as well. “I think the both of you really look good together.”

You smile a sad smile though you’re pretty sure Jaehyun can’t see you. “Why do you say that?” You don’t think Jimin and you had put that good of a performance for people to see you both that way.

“I’ve known Jimin since we were child. He’s.. not the friendliest person, sorry not sorry.”

You let out a soft chuckle. There’s no denying that.

“He’s a very self sustained guy. Very smart, never needing any help ever since we were kids, not even me. He’s always clear of what he wants and would never stop in anyway to get what he wants. No matter how or who he hurt in the process. I learnt the hard way when I was seven.” He lets out a small laugh that somehow sounds sad.

“And.. why are you telling me this?” You look at him.

He looks at you too and his face serious, all trace of playfulness disappears. “I just want you to be careful.” He says carefully. “And also.. perhaps because I want to steal something of his..” he says that as he eyes you with unreadable expression but it causes a shiver to run down your spine.

You look away quickly as the atmosphere becomes awkward. “I- I don’t think I’d ever want or wish for anything else if I have a land this big.” You try to joke.

He laughs. “Is he not making you happy?” He suddenly asks, face turning serious again.

“W-why would you say that?”

“Because if he is, firstly he probably wouldn’t leave you all alone here in the cold.” He adds while grinning when he sees you shivering slightly. You don’t realize as Jaehyun tries to step closer towards you.

You shake your head slowly. “It doesn’t really matter how he treats me.”

“Why wouldn’t it? Because if he doesn’t..”

Suddenly, he swivels your petite body and crashes his own body against yours as he pull you into a hug. You crumble slightly in utter shock, falling back and you wince as your back pressed against the fence.

“Jaehyun what are you-“ You struggle and try to push him off of you. At that moment, your eyes flicker ahead and sees Jimin over Jaehyun’s shoulder, standing a few metres away from the both of you, staring at the scene in front of him.

You struggle again against Jaehyun but for a moment, you stare in lost at your husband.

For a brief second, you think of standing there in another man’s embrace just to see your husband’s reaction.

Just to see his feelings towards you.

To see if he feels something. Anything.

You just desperately want to see an inch of his thought.

He finally takes a few strides, “What the fuck you two think you’re doing?”

Jaehyun definitely heard him but he surely takes his time to release you before turning to face Jimin.

“Do you want to be seen hugging my own fucking cousin in the tabloid?” He snaps at you.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. She’s not at fault. I was the one who initiated everything.” Jaehyun says.

“Yeah whatever.” Your husband doesn’t even look at him. Instead, he reaches for you and pulls you close to him. His hands find its way to hold your waist firmly. Possesively.

“I was looking for you.” He says very gently. And then very tenderly, he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

You realize that this is the first time Jimin’s ever done anything intimate towards you in public.

And he does it in the eyes of Jaehyun.

Suddenly it dawns to you that he’s just marking his territory.

He’s showing that you’re his property.

“Come, let’s go home.” He says softly and nods curtly to his cousin before dragging you away by the waist.

You could only take a look at Jaehyun very briefly before being whisked away by your husband and finds him smiling in amusement.

The car ride on the way home is almost as awkward as when you got to the event early this evening.

It’s mostly filled in silence until your husband speaks up.

“I’m sorry.. About.. you know.” He says quietly. He’s trying to apologize for almost raping you. The memory almost brings fresh tears in your eyes. You still remember vividly how terrified you were.

“I’m really sorry.” He says again when you remain silent.

You don’t really trust yourself to say anything so you reach over for his hand and gives it a brief, gentle squeeze to let you know that you forgive him.

You think that a twisted part of you will always forgive him. Even if he didn’t apologise.

A/N: the stupid me just found out I didnt write the trigger warning for previous chapter. I’m sorry 😭

Anyway, things had been pretty tough because of pandemic. I was on contract basis for my job until June last year but was not renewed and I’ve been searching for jobs ever since but unfortunately wasnt able to land a permanent one. Writing had been a form of escape for me and I’m sincerely doing it out of love. But if, if you guys love my story and may wanna support me, you can drop a visit and buy me a coffee here! Thank you so much ❤️

Link to Chapter 18

Posted on 210507 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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cafeinthemoon · 4 years

Text

The Home I Crave - Chapter 4

Title: The Home I Crave

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x reader

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2938

Chapter: 4/?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️▶️

Read the previous chapter here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Though your future husband had his own residence separated from the Hokage’s, you weren’t sent there after being informed that you would stay in the village for the next days. Instead, you would be a guest in Hashirama’s house, and Mito would provide you the orientation you’d need in your new role.

The Uzumaki princess, with her vivid presence and smartness, helped you to find ways to fill your days with meaningful activities, so you wouldn’t see time passing until the wedding and wouldn’t have many chances to feel like a burden staying in the house of strange people counting on their assistance. You couldn’t entirely avoid this sensation, which led you to decline from small favors and treats that were offered to you from time to time; on the other hand, you found some relief once you realized that the manners showed by the Hokage’s wife during the reception were not mere formality: Mito’s interest in your well being was genuine, and she was not going to give up on making you as comfortable as possible under the current circumstances.

It was better this way, you thought. So you just let her be the friend she was willing to be.

In fact, Mito Uzumaki was an excellent friend: she would always answer your questions and doubts with honesty and objectivity and never hide when she didn’t have the information you needed; the things she asked about you were never embarrassing or invasive, and you always saw yourself willing to talk when she made you questions. You spoke to her about your life with your sisters, your training at your clan’s compound, your use of Doton and how it is a characteristic of your family since the oldest generations; Mito explained that her clan was specialized in sealing techniques the same way your were proficient in Earth Style, and when you asked her about them, she described the history and the creation of the most important among them.

During your time together, most of your conversations consisted in you two exchanging your experiences as shinobi, your families and your relationships with your friends. You discovered opinions and preferences in common despite the obvious differences in your personalities: while you had a tendency to live in your head if you were left alone and not speak your mind unless you were invited too, Mito was straightforward when it came to expressing her thoughts, though she was never rude while doing it; many times she took the initiative to start the conversations, and the mission of taking out your thoughts would almost always fall on her shoulders, no matter how many times she assured you that you were free to speak whenever you needed to.

One day, when this situation happened, she looked into your eyes and gave you an advise for which you would thank her later, when you’d be a married woman facing the challenges typical of your new condition:

- I am always encouraging you to not keep everything to yourself when you have the chance to talk, but maybe I’ve failed in explaining why I insist so much in this, y/n-san.

You blinked in surprise and curiosity.

- In this case, let me ask you your reasons for doing this, Mito-san.

- This can be good for you in any circumstance of your life, of course, but the main reason is that this is the most efficient way to communicate with Tobirama.

You clenched your hands to avoid the trembling that was about to reach them after you heard his name. It’s been a while since it was mentioned between you: you’d usually hear it when Hashirama came home and mentioned something concerning his work or a message sent by his brother. However, you always felt it differently whenever it was said by Mito.

You asked little about him since that conversation you had when you first met the Uzumaki woman. You didn’t like to think you were avoiding the topic, though your attitude would say that this was exactly what you were doing; the case was that you didn’t have so much to ask about him after everything she told you that day, and knowing that he was the brain behind the measures of the new alliance between your clans already said too much about the person he was: any other minor information you’d get would sound superfluous compared to that. Mito noticed your reluctance in this, and despite never asking about your reasons for it, she chose to respect it.

To speak the truth, you would only talk about Tobirama when you got in touch with something – a place, a circumstance, an idea – that, according to Mito, reminded of him in some way. There was a time when you were taking a walk at the shores of a river around the village and she commented that you were walking at one of his favorite places to fish and spend time alone after stressful days.

- If he suddenly disappears, it is almost certain that you will find him here – she smiled – But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to come here unannounced when he’s trying to get some rest. He’s too attached to his privacy.

You looked around and couldn’t judge him for this feeling: that was a beautiful, calm place; you wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted if you were there seeking for relief from the burdens of the day.

Episodes like this happened with some frequency, and you took the opportunities to enrich the image you were creating of him. Everything you discovered was interesting in their own way, though you weren’t still able to decide if your final opinion was good or not. Maybe it was something between the two – shinobi were always in the gray zone of the human moral compass. And when you remembered that you, as a kunoichi, were included in this account, you refrained yourself from pointing your finger at him.

However, there was a parameter that remained unconsidered to you among all the others, perhaps because of your lack of attention or the great amount of urgent preoccupations you already had, and about which you’d only come to think when you were directly led to it – Tobirama’s physical appearance.

After your experience with Hokage, you were aware that sometimes informations could be deceiving depending on their source and the person who received them. With all you’ve heard about him and considering what you thought of the arrangements led by him, it was possible that your betrothed’s looks were just like his personality: not the most pleasing one, and even scary at some point. But when you added the fact that he had a brother like Hashirama, well, maybe he was nothing like this. At some moment, you started to imagine that he could resemble his brother in some traits, or he was just like the men you saw working in the office during the meeting: all of them had a certain level of resemblance, something that made it possible for a stranger to identify them as members of the same clan, even if they were not blood relatives.

Whatever the truth, all you had was a just a vague idea, a second hand thought that you weren’t willing to turn into a concrete concept or to confirm with Mito: it was more interesting just to hear her talk about his actions and attitudes.

You would only change your mind when, thanks to an unexpected incident, you ended up finding a portrait of him.

You were still getting used to the structure of the Hokage’s house: though your own residence at your clan’s compound was large, formed by many rooms, the corridors were few, not enough to form the same intricate labyrinth of the building you were now. Still, you wouldn’t avoid walking through them without company in order to train your sense of direction, and thanks to the orientations you received from Mito regarding the rooms you had permission to enter, you weren’t afraid of invading the wrong place. But you would still get confused if you entered the wrong corridor.

This is what happened that time, so that instead of reaching the living room you got into a narrow hall with a collection of photographs on the walls of both sides.

You recognized some of the landscapes in them from the path you and your group took when you arrived at Konoha’s territory: hills, rivers and the forest’s entry; some of the residences and farms were there too.

You also identified some of the people: there was a rectangular portrait of Hashirama Senju in what you understood to be his official clothing as the village’s governor; Mito Uzumaki appeared in another picture right beside it, surrounded by a group of men and women with their hair as red as hers and dressed in the same style, leading you to the conclusion that they were part of her family or were close friends; there were also pictures with some of the people you saw in the office beside those two.

The majority of the photos were of people you didn’t know but were certainly close to the ones you knew. There was a photograph of a middle aged man wearing a reddish armor; wrapped on his forehead there was a white stripe with the crest of the Senju. The man had his skin as tanned as Hashirama’s, and his hair was straight and dark just like his, though it wasn’t that long. Looking closer, you noticed the two shared similar face traits despite the lack of gentleness and freshness of the older man if compared to the younger one. There was no identification in the picture, but you thought that this man could be Hashirama’s father. If this was the case, they must haven’t had nothing in common besides the appearance.

Near this photograph, there were other, larger, with a group of children surrounding a woman, all of them wearing the Senju traditional clothing. One of the children, a boy with a bowl haircut, shared some resemblance with the man of the previous image: you looked at him for a moment and recognized Hashirama. The other children, all boys, and the woman were too different from him and between themselves, but there was something in them that told you they were relatives, so that if that was the Hokage’s mother, those boys should be his brothers. With this, your natural reaction was to wonder which of them could be Tobirama.

The first kid, close to Hashirama, had a scar on his cheek and brown hair; he was the one with the widest smile. The second, sitting right after him with a sweet look and some shyness in his manners, had white skin and a hair parted in two contrasting shades: white on the right side and dark brown on the left. The third boy, standing up beside the woman and separated from the others, was the one who most resembled her; he was staring at the camera with a serious, firm look. He had the same light skin tone of the second child, and his shaggy hair was of a shade similar to the lighter side of that boy’s hair as well; but the thing that caught your attention in this one was that pair of red eyes, just like the woman’s, with which he looked into the lens, to the photographer or to something beyond them. It wasn’t the look one would expect from a child.

Considering what Mito told you during the tea and what you thought of the arrangements, you were thinking that this kid had the highest probability of being…

- Oh.

Your voice escaped when you took a step ahead to observe the next photograph and found in it a figure entirely different from the ones you’ve saw until that moment.

The portrait was the same size as the one of the Hokage and it showed a young man in a blue armor, with his arms crossed, looking at the lens with the same perspicacity you sensed in the boy’s look. His armor was different from the one of the middle aged Senju who you supposed to be his father: around his shoulders there was a huge, white fur attached to his forearm protectors, all of them together creating the impression that his torso was larger than it really was; under the armor, he was wearing a black shirt that covered his neck and arms until his fists; he wasn’t wearing gloves. On his face, he had a gray happuri with the Leaf crest carved on its forehead.

The man had white, voluminous hair that would rebel against the steadiness of his general aspect, as a minor inconvenience that remained out of his control and to which he was already used; looking closer, you realized it wasn’t of a pure white, but of a slight shade of gray. His skin, only visible through his uncovered hands and face, was light, even pale if you compared him to other people who spent as much time under the sunlight as him certainly did as a warrior; was it a peculiarity of him or just the environment where the photo was taken? You had no way to tell. On his face, too, the light tone served as a white canvas for what you thought to be facial painting or tattoos: three red marks spreading over his chin and under his eyes as slits opened by a kunai; around his eyes, black, thin lines that would contour their natural form, already sharp, giving them the sensitivity of a hunter’s eyes.

Those eyes, you realized with astonishment, were as red as the eyes of the boy from the other photograph.

You went back to the children’s picture to observe his face with more attention, and didn’t need much time to notice the similarities between them. The mannerisms, the traits, the seriousness – they were the same person.

It was when you started to look for portraits of the other children and was unable to find anything except the one of Hashirama in the Hokage’s clothing. You already knew that the Senju head had lost his siblings to war, but just a few days ago you found out there was only one brother left for him. You looked at the blue armored man again…

- Finally I found you.

You startled, almost letting a scream out. When you turned, you found Mito smiling at you.

- If I was an enemy, you would be in trouble.

A glimmer in her eyes insinuated that she has been observing you for a while, waiting for you to notice her presence. You never cursed your lack of sensory abilities as much as in that moment.

- I… I am sorry for this – you apologized, looking at the photographs – I took the wrong corridor and ended up here. I wasn’t expecting to find these pictures, so…

You glanced behind, as if sensing the man’s image right over your shoulder. This didn’t escape Mito’s attention: she walked closer to its spot on the wall, looking in the eyes of the warrior. This gesture eliminated any remaining doubts about the identity of the man.

- You already guessed, didn’t you? – with her unaltered voice, she questioned you without taking her eyes off the picture.

You turned to the portrait too, facing his gaze again.

- This photograph was taken four or five years ago, but he remains the same – Mito continued – Not even a line of expression appeared on his forehead or in the corner of his eyes since then – and with a smile – The same goes to Hashi. Just another talent of the Senju.

You observed the portrait in silence, not interrupted by the princess: having familiarity with arranged marriages as much as you, she was aware of the time one needed to become accustomed with the looks of their betrothed under these circumstances.

You only spoke when you felt prepared to, and when you did, it was to point out that he looked even younger than you expected after all the things you discovered about him.

Mito laughed.

- I don’t blame you. If I didn’t know him or his brother and saw them together for the first time, I would certainly think that Hashirama is the younger one.

You laughed too; when your smile faded, you turned back to your contemplative expression. Now, the white collar and the aspect of his eyes just gave you an idea.

- I hope you don’t find it strange what I’m going to say, Mito-san, but he reminds me of a wolf.

Mito crossed her arms, looking at the picture; now that you were becoming used to her manners, you no longer found it weird to see her doing gestures like that while dressing in noble clothing.

- Nobody never said that about him before, at least not to me – she commented – But it makes sense, now that I’m looking at him.

You stood in silence for some time. You spent it training your eyes to get used to Tobirama’s sight, to the weight of his gaze, for you sensed that once you were together, you wouldn’t have such time. The funny thing was that, while you stood there, you didn’t notice how much time passed, only waking up when you heard Mito’s giggle beside you.

You turned, only to find her still contemplating her brother-in-law’s image.

- In his own way, he’s a beautiful man, isn’t he?

You sensed heat coming up your cheeks, mas didn’t refuse to reply.

- Yes. I dare say yes.

#tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju #tobirama fanfic #naruto fanfiction

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charming-2d-boys · 4 years

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Adultrio with children (Illumi Version)

By the way, this one’s veeeery long, but I had too much fun 😅

You have been warned!

so, despite the usual push from the family for more future little assassins, Illumi isn’t really that thrilled by the idea

he seems like the type of person whose eyes and actions don’t really stray when he’s outside, especially on a mission or errand, whether personal or professional

that being said, the most likely way you’re going to meet Illumi is through others, whether that someone is Hisoka or his own family (but he doesn’t really trust Hisoka’s judgment when it comes to introducing someone to him, especially with the intent of getting together)

so, the family is the only viable option of meeting

Zeno is the one who comes up with a new option after several failed ones brought up by Silva and Kikyo

you, the granddaughter of an old friend and former partner of his, who used to be in charge of gathering information on the targets (not really a partner per se, but they participated in several missions together and became friends over the years)

smart, cute, close in age to Illumi and seemingly a lot more… empathetic and emotional-looking than our dear pincushion boy (who isn’t, though?)

Illumi is told about this and despite being asked for his opinion, it’s already decided nonetheless

unlike all the other candidates who were all asked - more like forced - into meeting formally and at the Zoldyck estate, you insist on meeting in a more casual place and fashion

Illumi, along with Kikyo, remain a bit shocked - Kikyo more than him because the audacity, but also the courage~

Silva doesn’t really care as long as they meet and Zeno laughs because he was expecting this from all the stories about you and your stubbornness and actions throughout the years that he heard from your grandfather

and it is settled: meeting in a quaint, little cat café in the town nearby, a little bit before lunch, no one else from your families except the two of you - coming with the promise that if you saw/sensed anyone keeping an eye on you two, you’d leave immediately and refuse any sort of contact from the family (again, shock because not many get to demand anything from the Zoldycks, but it seems that they already have a good feeling about you)

Illumi dresses up in some casual clothes (still with the flame pattern 🙄) and heads out, getting a pat on the back from Zeno and a good luck

when he enters the establishment and looks around, he sees you, next to a bookcase, with a very big and fluffy peach-coloured cat in your lap, both relaxed and watching the others around you

your eyes lock with Illumi’s when you sense his aura and you smile, beckoning him closer - cue Illumi raising an eyebrow because you’re not getting up to greet him and that’s rude, but he understands when you explain that you had to coax that cat with food and headpats for like 5 minutes until it stayed in your lap

so, he sits down next to you, petting the cat in your lap when its large, round, green eyes stare at him and next thing you know, you’ve got almost half of the other cats in the café flocking to Illumi, sitting on his lap and around him and purring loudly

the other customers can only stare, too afraid of his expressionless face to complain and when they see that the cats aren’t leaving him and returning to them, they’re slowly trickling out of the café until it's only the two of you (one of the staff members, who was apparently pushed by the other to come and talk to you, is quickly told, by you, that you’ll pay more by the end of the day to cover whatever losses they might acquire from the lack of clients, which makes them leave you two hurriedly)

you can only laugh when he stares at the cats and the empty room, then at you, almost clueless as to why you’re laughing

but you start talking and discover that you really like spending time with him

you talk about your families, your dreams, because he says that he doesn’t have any (liar), friends (again, liar) etc.

you really like that he cares about his family, even if it’s a bit twisted (good intentions, bad plan, especially when it comes to Killua)

since he was forced by his family to respect the tradition and become an assassin, he’s surprised when he finds out that despite the possibility of following the family tradition, you’re also allowed to make your own decisions, as long as you talk about them with your family

something that amuses you a lot is when Illumi receives a message from someone called Pain-in-the-Ass Clown, saying How’s your date going, Illumi-chan? ⭐ ￣ ∀ ￣ 💧

and he explains that it’s someone really annoying who always bothers him

So, not your friend?

Never.

anyway, that was one of the first of many dates, with Illumi almost always letting you choose, mostly because you knew he’d choose some really fancy place and you wanted to have fun with him and get to know him naturally

despite his lack of expressions, he is having fun and likes that you’re happy (appreciates the fact that you are so... lively, you’re like complete opposites and apparently fit like two puzzle pieces)

Zeno is the one who pretty much declares that you’re the OTP

one of your dates definitely consisted in the two of you going on a mission together, just to see how you’d get along in a professional situation

100/10, no dilly-dally, professional from the beginning to the end of the mission, but you laughed and teased Illumi about how serious he was - as if it was just another normal day of meeting up after work... not after killing someone

the marriage proposal is more and more prominent in Illumi’s head and the rest of the Zoldycks and he’s wracking his brain trying to think of how to ask you

the two of you have bought an apartment and moved in to get used to living together and it’s going pretty well (definitely took a bit of convincing to get Illumi to agree, but he feels so human and happy with you that he just can’t say no and even his mother likes you, somewhat)

some nights are spent inside, watching movies, playing board games (he beats you here), video games (Illumi sucks at those) or cooking (he’s mostly watching and trying to remember everything, but man, too much work, he’s used to his butlers), while others involve you two going to bookstores, cafes, the zoo, even concerts/festivals

so, he decides on something that he read about on the holy Internet: Illumi had gone out that day and told you he’d come by later, but he actually bought you a puppy, who, as soon as it was put down, ran into the house when you squealed and picked it up to nuzzle it while it licked your face and wagged its tail; your fingers felt something on its collar and when you saw a ring, you froze, looking at Illumi without saying a word

he slowly approached you, face as expressionless as always (but he was so, SO nervous) and took the ring off the collar, getting on one knee and saying that you’ve made him feel happier and more human during those few months with you than he’s ever felt in all those years and he hopes that you’ll be willing to share your life with him and allow him to make sure you’ll always feel happy and loved

cue the tears because Illumi’s never said so many heartfelt words in one day and you’d be a monster to say no and extinguish that little sparkle of happiness in his eyes

so you put your puppy down and hug him tightly, kissing his face until he actually cracks a smile when the puppy whines because it wants your attention too

the wedding? Beautiful.

you? Gorgeous.

Illumi? He’s never been happier in his entire life

Hisoka cries at the wedding and is chosen as his best-man, along with Illumi’s brothers (even Killua accepted, especially after noticing the positive change you brought in the family and Illumi)

Alluka is your maid of honour along with Kalluto, because those two are attracted to you like moths to a flame

the reception is memorable, with various friends and family members congratulating you two and wishing you a long and happy marriage

things settle down a bit for a few weeks afterwards, especially after the honeymoon (which was spent somewhere where you could both enjoy some private time away from everyone as a newlywed couple)

and the biggest surprise was finding out that you’re pregnant (lucky~, that’s what Hisoka said when you texted him because yeah, you remained friends, somehow)

Illumi actually hugged you when you told him and kissed you because he was ecstatic

you definitely sat him down and told him that you need to talk with his family so they don’t get any ideas about torturing your child or children since you want them to have a normal, happy childhood

while a bit against it because that’s how he and all his siblings were raised, he definitely understands that it’s not only his decision to make and that he actually doesn’t really want anyone to go through what they did (especially after seeing that yes, even without training like his you can still be powerful and smart and somehow, his)

so, he agrees and tells the rest of the family (Zeno knew what your thoughts would be and never said anything, while Kikyo would probably be on the verge of having a stroke and Silva wouldn’t really care because they have Killua)

they can’t do much in terms of making you accept, especially because you don’t live at the estate and Illumi is loyal to his family, but now he’s got his own and he chooses you and your baby in the end

despite a few arguments with the Zoldycks, *cough* Kikyo *cough*, you still have the support of pretty much everyone else in the family and your own, so you actually can support yourselves just fine

Illumi insists on going shopping for baby clothes with you and is already looking at the variety of toys (he’s not gonna admit that he can’t wait to play with them when he’s spending time with his child because he wasn’t really allowed to have many toys or play with them so they wouldn’t make him stray from his path as an assassin)

likes talking to the baby bump and even sings to it (he’s got a beautiful singing voice and the baby always kicks when he sings something they like, which Illumi always take into account)

protective as hell whenever you’re out and about together and pretty much never lets you leave alone until you have a small argument that you can take care of yourself, after which he lets you be, but still insists on being called once an hour just to make sure and to have his heart put at ease

doesn’t even want to think about your weird craving because eww, some of them are gross (you know it, he knows it, the baby doesn’t care and when you’re hungry, neither do you)

will be there when you’re giving birth because he just wants to meet the baby faster and when he does, he smiles because there they are, his little bundle of joy

just stands and is fascinated by how small the baby is and how cute and squishy they look

it’s a girl, btw

almost always tells you to go to sleep when the baby wakes up in the middle of the night, especially because he can’t really sleep and he’s too happy and excited, plus he knows how tired you are

the baby’s first words are definitely dada and her little hands were just desperately reaching out to him (you practised with her whenever you could because you know how enamoured he is with his little girl)

Illumi actually breathed in deeply so he wouldn’t feel like crying anymore and just hugged you both while your daughter was patting his cheek

she inherits his long, black hair and they both spend the most amount of time in the bathroom taking care of it and brushing it

you’re the only one allowed to touch and braid their hair

she definitely likes all her uncles and aunts because they’re all so nice and doting and funny (Hisoka and Killua), while great-grandpa Zeno spoils her rotten

yes, Silva and Kikyo love her a lot as well, but inside they still want her to follow into their footsteps

you laugh at Illumi’s surprised face when your daughter asks you two for a brother or sister

oh boy... he’s gonna die from the cuteness and joy all these babies of yours are going to bring him

THAT was a lot, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x reader #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #hxh illumi #hxh writing

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ssajj · 4 years

Text

Brutus

While undercover, you run into the boyfriend you left behind.

Fem!Reader, 5.1k

TW: nongraphic depictions of violence, swearing, cigarettes, hints of a toxic relationship (not between reader and Spencer), guns

Note: dual timelines! It goes back and forth for most of the fic.

"Are you sure they want to meet me?" You ask, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. It's hard not to overanalyze the outfit you picked out for this occasion, even if you know it's far too late to go back to your place and change. Spencer hates not arriving on time.

He looks at you with a quizzical expression on his face. "Of course they want to meet you."

When in doubt, you love to go for false bravado. "Talk a lot about me?" You smirk, watching a slow blush appear on his cheeks. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around his middle and gently tug him toward you. He complies easily, his hands automatically settling at the small of your back.

"Is it okay if I do talk about you a lot?"

That makes you smile. "It's sweet."

The blush only gets stronger. "Morgan and Garcia are pretty eager to meet you," he says. "They've been bringing up tonight all week."

He's probably only saying it to make you feel better, but all it does is spike the anxiety brewing in your chest. Garcia's an information junkie; you don't even want to know the things she's already figured out about you. And Morgan is Spencer's best friend. If he doesn't like you, that's probably the beginning of the end for your relationship.

"It'll be great, love," he's firmer this time, melting some of the fire. Your favorite thing he calls you is 'love'. Something about the gentleness of that word, the feelings it implies, and the soft look Spencer gets on his face whenever he uses it makes you want to curl up against him for the rest of your life.

After another moment, the two of you head out the door and to the bar, hands clasped together.

"Y/N!!!!" Garcia practically forces you into a bear hug when you walk over to the BAU's table. "Oh, I am SO glad you could come tonight. I've been looking forward to this for ages! I cannot believe Spencer waited an eternity to bring you around us. You're all he talks about anymore, it's adorable."

You glance back at your boyfriend, who looks a tad horrified. Morgan laughs and slaps him on the back, forcing a cough out of him.

"Hey," JJ greets you, looking so much less intimidating than anyone at the table. You know it's a bit of a farce though. Spencer’s told you enough stories to know that JJ is a woman who can hold her own and hold it well, despite appearances. Idly, you note that she'd be great at undercover work. "I'm JJ. I'm assuming you know that you just got crushed by Garcia. And then there's Morgan, Rossi, Emily, and Hotch." As she said their names, she pointed at them. It was nice to get confirmation, even if you were pretty sure you knew which face belonged to which name.

Hotch nods at you. "It's nice to meet you."

"Is he smiling?" Emily hisses, leaning toward Rossi. "I think Hotch is smiling."

"It's great to finally meet all of you. Spencer’s always talking about you guys," you say, taking your seat. Spencer settles down next to you close enough that your thighs touch. The bar definitely isn't somewhere that he'd normally hang out, but he seems comfortable enough here that you assume it's a frequent spot for the BAU to visit.

A couple hours in, you're feeling tipsy and ridiculously happy. You're getting along particularly well with Emily and JJ, who are both amazing. If he isn't talking to you, Spencer’s usually talking to Morgan and Garcia, who obviously adore him. Hotch and Rossi seem lost in their own private conversations and you wonder if it's because they're the two highest ranking agents here.

"You should totally start joining us when we have girls night!" JJ says, clinking her beer against your glass. "I think you'd really enjoy them."

You nod, feeling flattered. "I'm down to come."

Emily grins, reaching over to knock Spencer’s shoulder. "Your girlfriend is so much cooler than you."

Before you can protest, he nods. "She is," he agrees, smiling at you.

"Awww," Garcia coos, joining the conversation. "Who knew that our baby Spencer was a secret romantic? I love it!"

"A wedding?" You ask, pressed up against Cal's side. It's always a bit uncomfortable, almost like your bodies know you don't fit together, that something is amiss. You just hope that your body isn't the thing that finally gets you killed. "That seems below you."

Cal looks down at you, an amused smirk twisting his face. He wants to eat you up, you think. He wants to devour you. "The groom is an old family friend," he explains. "It's courtesy that I attend. And I can hardly go without a ravishing date on my arm."

You rise up on your toes to kiss his cheek, rubbing a bit at the lipstick you leave with the pad of your thumb. "As long as I get to pick my own dress."

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't let you pick it yourself?" His grip on you tightens enough that you wonder if it'll leave a bruise on your hip. Tomorrow, you know you'll find a wad of cash in your purse. In exchange, he'll get to take it off of you after the wedding.

Mercifully, he lets you go a second later. You step back, walking by him. He's done with you for the day. Your relationship is to the point where he doesn't need to formally dismiss you anymore. You've picked him apart and put him back together. Whether he knows it or not, it feels like you've made him the very man that you hate with every fiber of your being. At least, you tell yourself that you hate him. When it gets too hard, when you find yourself falling under his spell, you picture the last boyfriend you had as yourself. A man full of shy smiles, sweet compliments, gentle kisses, and the most beautiful assortment of random knowledge. When he's in your mind, you don't get lost in the person you're pretending to be. It's the only time you feel like yourself.

Of course, being yourself too much would get you killed, so you limit yourself.

You go dress shopping the next day. Cal gave you an absurd budget, so you manage to pick out an extravagant dress and also a pair of shoes and earrings. This morning, Cal had mentioned that the wedding was going to be a black tie event, giving you an excuse to feel like a princess. Well. Maybe a trapped princess, like Cinderella or Rapunzel. You walk out of the store with a heavy bag on your arm. When you return to the house, it's blissfully empty. Cal isn't due back until late, but you still do a full walk around the house, double checking before you go out to the garden. The first few months you lived here, the garden was the responsibility of the landscapers that stopped by occasionally, but you batted your eyes and sucked on Cal's lip until he agreed to give it to you. Now, no one else was allowed to touch it per his orders. And he wasn't the kind of man his staff said no to.

Basically, it was a perfect hiding spot. You go over to the daisies, digging a little until you find the box that contained your current burner phone. You'd have to switch soon, probably within the next few weeks. It was close to dying and it was never a good idea to keep the same phone number for an extended period of time. You dial the number once, hang up immediately, dial again, let it ring three times, hang up, and then dial for a final time. Your handler answers quickly.

"What?" He asks, gruff.

"We're going to a wedding near Virginia."

You hear him suck in a breath. "Close to where you used to live."

"I know."

"If you get recognized-"

"I won't."

He pauses. "Stay safe."

You hang up the phone and pray you make it through this alive.

On your one year anniversary, Spencer brings you to a museum. He walks you through all the exhibits, rambling about anything he knows in regards to your surroundings. His hands keep waving through the air, his eyes bright and alive, a grin splitting his face. It's obvious that he's in his element.

You love him so badly that it hurts, sometimes.

By the time you reach the gift shop, your brain is full of knowledge you probably won't ever need again.

"Sorry," Spencer says suddenly, looking at you. "Did I just bore you? You know you're allowed to cut me off when I get going."

You shake your head, kissing his cheek. "It was cute. I loved it."

Once you're done there, the two of you head back to his apartment. Last month, the two of you had decided not to do gifts, electing just to spend the day together instead. You cuddle with him on the couch, your body tucked perfectly against his. In this moment, you feel safe. You're with a man you know loves you, and you love him back just as fiercely. Life is good.

You and Cal arrive in Virginia at the crack of dawn, early enough that it feels like you should still be rubbing the sleep out of your eyes even though you've been awake for hours. “Who even has weddings before noon? I didn’t even think that was a thing.”

Cal chuckles beside you, his arm snaking around you. In this moment, it’s hard not to shudder. You’ve never understood his need to always touch you, claim you for the world to see. As far as he knows, you’ve never belonged to anyone else. You were born and bred for this, a perfect lover. Just enough sass, just enough danger, just enough compliance, just enough meekness. He doesn’t know that this isn’t the real you, that you’re always on the verge of screaming your head off. One day, he’ll learn. It’ll end in one of your deaths.

Hopefully, it’ll end in his death.

"We'll stop at the hotel first, darling," Cal takes your hand as he talks, leading you along the side of the road. God, you remember this place. Of course you do. This is your home turf. A new name and a new look doesn't mean that this doesn't feel like home. "You can get changed and refreshed before we head to the venue."

You shrug. "Sounds good to me."

The walk is blissfully short, but the hotel is grand. It's definitely not somewhere you would have been able to afford. Honestly, you're almost disgusted by how the place practically bleeds money and how well Cal seems to blend into this new environment.

Once you're in the room, you toss your suitcase onto the bed, hissing when the action results in a broken nail. Cal laughs at you as you stick your finger in your mouth. He comes over after a beat, pulling at your hand to inspect your nail. For a second, it looks like he's going to lick your finger, but he just lets you go. "Get dressed," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "I want to see how stunning you're going to look."

"Something's off about you."

You whip around, coming face to face with Emily. She's wearing an expression you recognize, but not on her: perfect blankness. There's no trace of a personality, no trace of a name attached to the person that spoke. Something tightens in your chest and you crane your neck to look at Spencer, who's blissfully unaware of the words that were just spoken. Instead, he's fully engaged in a conversation with JJ and Will, hands flapping as they smile warmly at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say to Emily, crafting a neutral but surprised look to wear on your own face. "Not sure I appreciate the tone, though."

Emily scoffs. "Don't play dumb with me. Come on. I know you got the same feeling about me."

She's right, even though you don't admit it. It almost feels like when two predators acknowledge each other in the wild- they know they're evenly matched, and so they go their separate ways. Except that everyone in the room is a predator. You and Emily are a different breed, though.

She's done deep undercover work.

"Ladies!" Rossi interrupts, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulders. If he notes any tension, he doesn't comment on it. "Why are you being antisocial over here?" He points at you. "Your boyfriend has been talking the ears off of JJ and Will. I honestly couldn't even tell you what about."

You shrug. "They don't seem to mind."

"Am I not allowed to talk to her?" Emily asks, eyebrow quirked. "I need to make sure she's not a secret spy."

Rossi laughs. "Garcia would have already sniffed that out, don't worry. Y/N passed her background check with flying colors."

"Did you?" You ask Emily, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Of course."

By now, Rossi’s gotten a good taste of the strangers of this interaction. He glances between you, eyes narrowing as they settle on you. You don't change your face.

"Actually, I think I'll join Spencer," you say, sliding past the two of them.

Spencer welcomes you gladly, folding you seamlessly into the conversation. Throughout most of it, you wonder how everyone else can understand what Will's saying. For all you know, he could be telling you off.

When you turn your head, you notice that Emily’s still looking at you. When you nod at her, she nods back.

You hope that's the end of it.

An hour in, you figure out that you hate weddings.

It doesn't help that you've been ditched. Cal was stuck to you like glue just long enough for you two to walk in together before he mumbled something about "important business" and took off. Currently, you're sitting alone at a table toward the back of the venue. You don't know what the hell you got so dressed up for or why you chose such a risky dress. One wrong move meant that everyone here was going to see a lot more of you than you were comfortable with.

"Hey, pretty lady," a man greets you, plopping himself in one of the empty seats next to you. You blink at him. "All alone here?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend."

He sighs, putting his sweaty hands on the table. "Now, what kind of man would leave his lady all by her lonesome?"

"How about you leave before I kick your ass?"

Cal laughs behind you, alerting you to his presence. You turn around, smiling at him. He's got a warm look on his face, the one that's only reserved for you.

"Oh!" The stranger yelps, standing up so fast that he rattles the table. "I didn't realize you were Cal's-"

"Just go," you tell him, waving him off. He doesn't waste any time.

Cal takes the empty seat. "I don't know why I bothered having security. You're scarier than all of them."

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. Have fun chatting up all the old rich men here?"

He takes your hand. "I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long." Lifting your hand, he kisses it. You blush.

"I'm assuming you have to go back to that?"

He nods. "Will you be okay here?"

"I think I'm going to go smoke, actually."

He's the one that got you into cigarettes, so he doesn't protest this. "Go out the west wing exit," he says instead. "There's always too much traffic at the main doors."

The two of you part, heading in opposite directions. It takes you a bit to find the right exit, but you're blissful when the crisp air finally hits your face. The view isn't bad, either, but it does make your heart ache.

For some stupid reason, you hadn't realized that the venue was so close to the museum Spencer loved taking you to.

You take your sweet time outside, cigarette dangling loosely from your fingers. It's the most relaxed you've felt all day, away from the prying eyes that know you as someone else. This assignment has already gone on for longer than you'd expected, but Cal is a tough nut to crack. Every time you think you have his complete trust, that he'll tell you what you need to know, a door slams shut in your face, or he gets angry with you for the littlest action. You take a drag, watching the smoke dissipate in the air.

"Y/N?" A familiar voice asks.

Your heart stops.

Your blood freezes in your veins, seemingly distorting everything around you. "What?" You whisper into the phone.

"He'll be okay," JJ soothes. "He's getting checked out by an EMT as we speak, I promise. I'm staring at him right now."

"What happened?"

She pauses, which doesn't fill you with any kind of confidence. "He went in after the unsub without backup. They ended up getting into a bit of a fight before Morgan and I could get to him. The three of us took down the unsub together, Spence is just...bruised."

"Any cracked ribs?" You ask.

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out. I'll call back in a few, okay?"

Before you can reply, the line is disconnected.

For the next eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds, you don't move a muscle. This wasn't the first time Spencer had gotten hurt since you'd started dating- perks of being with someone that hunted serial killers for a living- but that did nothing to comfort you now. Your mind always went to the worst possible place, combing over your last interaction with Spencer, wondering if he died now, would he know how much you loved him? While you were at a desk job currently, most of your career had been spent never knowing if you'd make it to dawn. This had been ingrained in you by now. You've seen people die, you've seen people be killed in a heartbeat. You survived that.

You couldn't survive Spencer dying.

The second your phone rings, it's answered and at your ear. "How is he?"

"Y/N," Spencer says into the phone, and you feel your entire body relax.

Instead of answering him, you burst into tears.

"Hey, hey. I'm okay, love."

"Sorry!" You practically wail, covering your mouth with your hand. "Sorry. What did the EMT say? How are you feeling? When will you be home?"

He answers your questions in a steady tone, obviously still worried about your emotional level. "We're getting on the jet once JJ and Hotch finish wrapping up with the detectives here."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Y/N."

Twelve hours later, Spencer is wrapped in your arms. He has a cracked ribs and an assortment of bruises, but he's breathing and he's here.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you that causes such a dramatic reaction?" He asks, making you tense.

"Spence…"

He sighs. "I know."

This was the biggest rift in your relationship. He pours his heart out day by day, and you're a shell of a woman with none of that to offer him. You can’t talk about most of your career. Even now, at a boring desk job, you're handling other people's undercover identities. You requested a break from going undercover and gotten it, but there's a part of your brain that still knows not to trust that. They could try to send you away tomorrow.

Spencer. Spencer is here. Spencer is staring at you. Spencer just said your name.

You know what you have to do, even if it'll hurt both of you. You'd tear yourself open to keep him safe, set yourself on fire to keep him safe, but that doesn't mean it'll be any easier to break his heart to keep him safe.

"I'm sorry?" You ask, scrunching your face up in confusion. "I think you have the wrong person."

You don't look exactly like you did when you dated Spencer. Your hair is a different color and cut, and your face has started hollowing out from stress and hate. Honestly, there's been times where you haven't even recognized yourself in the mirror.

He repeats your name, taking a step toward you. Instinct has taught you well, so even though you want to run forward into his arms, you take a step back.

He looks different since the last time you saw him. Different, but good. He's filled out more, his hair is longer, and he's holding himself with more authority. This Spencer isn't constantly curled in on himself, you know. He isn't always trying to make himself lesser. He's maintained his kind eyes, though. They're staring straight through you, searching for things you can't give him. All you can remember is the love you shared with him, the love you smashed when you left. It makes you ache.

This is conformation of your deepest fear: he's better off without you.

"That isn't my name," you tell him, cocking your head to the side. The cigarette, you notice, has fallen to the ground. You wonder if he's noticed, but you step on it all the same. "My name is Reva."

"Reva." It sounds distinctly wrong coming from his lips, like it doesn't quite fit despite his efforts to force it. By this point, you're well used to being called the wrong name. Something about the way Spencer says it still makes you want to cringe.

Regardless, he can't know any of that. He still has some hope in his eyes, although it's being muddled by confusion. "Yes," you confirm. "Look, I'm sorry you can't find who you're looking for. I'm not her, though."

"I'm sorry, too."

"Reva!" You hear, and you turn to find Cal coming out the door. Whipping your head back at Spencer, you gesture for him to leave, feeling some of your panic leak out into the open. Cal doesn't get to look at Spencer. He doesn't get to talk to Spencer.

Out of desperation, you practically leap into Cal's arms, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He’s surprised, but since he never says no to this kind of thing, he pulls you closer and deepens it. “Can we get out of here?” You whine, lowering your hands to right below his ass.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

As he takes your hand to lead you back into the venue, you spare one last look at Spencer. He’s rooted to the spot, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you.

You have the sinking feeling that you didn’t trick him well enough.

When you go into the office on Monday, you know. Your supervisor is standing at your desk, a grim expression on his face.

“I don’t want to go,” you tell him automatically.

All the other times you’ve been under, there’s been no one on the other side to miss you. Now, though? You think of Penelope, who likes surprising you with different kinds of flowers, of Rossi, who taught you how to make your first authentic Italian dish, of Hotch, who you just managed to work a soft smile out of, of JJ, who automatically gravitates toward you whenever you’re in a room together, of Morgan, who lifted you up and spun you around when you admitted to him that you could see a forever with Spencer, and god- Spencer. You don’t want to leave Spencer. You could survive without him, but there’d forever be a light missing.

“Come on into my office,” your supervisor tells you. “We have a lot to talk about.”

For the first time in a long time, you cry yourself to sleep.

The next day, you make your way back into the garden. Cal’s out again, probably plotting something that will result in death and destruction. You’re frustrated that he’s been so difficult to get through to, you’re frustrated that you saw Spencer last night, and all you want to do is throw your head back and scream until your throat is raw and bleeding. That isn’t an option, so all you can do is dig up your phone and make the call.

When you tell him what happened, all you get is a sigh before he hangs up. Figures. “Asshole.”

“What do you want me from me, huh?” You scream, hands balled into fists at your side. Your breath is heavy, weighing the room down.

Spencer scoffs at you. “I’ve made it perfectly clear what I want, you just aren’t listening anymore.”

“I can’t give you that.”

He won’t look at you anymore. Tears have started gathering in his eyes, and while you want to wipe them away, you know you don’t have the right. You’re the one that put them there, you’re the one making him act like this.

“It feels like I barely know you sometimes,” he says, and you don’t even have a counter argument for that. You’ve been so many people. At this point, you’re a jigsaw puzzle of everyone you’ve ever been, but he’s missing too many pieces to solve you.

When you don’t respond, he sighs, running his hand through his hair. And then-

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You suck in a breath. “What?”

His voice firms. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Y/N. I don’t know if this is working. I don't think I want to keep trying."

Before he can say anything else, before you can make your case, before you can fight for him, your legs are already carrying you out the door.

You make a single phone call.

“I’m in. Tell me more about the assignment.”

On a Wednesday, it ends. It's months since you saw Spencer. Part of you had expected some big event to come from that, whether it be Cal stabbing you in the stomach or Spencer somehow tracking you down to save you. Life isn't a romance movie, though, so you just went back to being alone.

And finally, after a century of careful prodding and poking, you get the information you need to take Cal down.

As the sun shines and the birds chirp, the SWAT team bursts through the door, shouting to get down. You scream Cal's name, knowing that your performance isn't going to be over until he never gets to see daylight again.

Unfortunately, Cal never goes down without a fight. He comes out guns blazing, shooting one of the SWAT members before they even register that he's there. In a flash, you're pressed up against Cal's chest, the barrel of his gun pressed to your head.

"You motherfucker," you whisper.

"I'm sorry, baby," he says to you, raising his voice to talk to the SWAT team. "Back off or I'll shoot!"

This fantastic plan results in you bleeding from a bullet wound in your stomach, curled on the ground and Cal is hauled off by SWAT. One of them approaches you once everyone else is gone.

"Good work, Y/N."

You hate hospitals. You hate the lights, the sounds, the smells, and the general fear of death that spikes whenever you enter through the doors. You've already been debriefed, already destroyed Reva. As far as Cal knows, you bled to death on his living room floor.

As you start to drift off to sleep, you hear a sudden clanging from down the hall, muffled voices oozing in frustration. Footsteps start up again, and then-

Oh.

Spencer’s in your room.

"Y/N," he gapes, coming up to the side of the bed. He starts to reach for your hand before aborting the motion; in response, you grab his instead. You're too weak to deny him right now. "Oh, god. Y/N."

"How are you here?" You ask.

"Penelope. I knew it was you outside the venue, and once the shock wore off, I knew you were undercover. We've been trying to locate you ever since, but your name pinged on her alerts when you were admitted here. What happened?"

"SWAT guy shot me."

The two of you lock eyes, and you're horrified to discover that you're both on the verge of crying. "Spence-"

He hugs you, arms gentle as he settles onto the bed. As you sob into his arms, you feel more at home than you have in a very long time.

Two weeks later, you're curled in his bed.

Things aren't normal. You've been gone for over a year and you left things completely unfinished. Not to mention that you've screamed yourself awake every night, panic attacks and sobs wrecking you even as Spencer whispers comforts as he holds you. But you're safe.

Another day later, Spencer helps you sit up before announcing, "We need to talk."

"I know."

He starts fiddling with the sleeves of his cardigan. "You- you left."

"You told me to."

"No! I-" he sighs, pulling harder at his sleeves. "I know it sounded that way. But I love you, Y/N. Then and now. I was never done trying for you."

You laugh a little. It doesn't sound right. "You don't love me now. I'm not even...I don't know how much of myself is even left anymore."

"So let me find out," he pleads. "Let me learn to love all the new things about you, let me cherish what hasn't changed."

"I'm sorry for running."

"I'm sorry for not chasing after you."

Your first date after coming back to yourself is a walk through the park. Spencer figures you can handle that, figures you won't get too overwhelmed or pained from the experience. He still lets you lean against him the entire time.

Since the first initial conversation, you've had many more. You've detailed your thoughts, as well as your experiences with Cal. You fought and fought and fought with your supervisor to get the clearance to tell Spencer, reminding him that you refused to ever go under again and that Spencer was an agent. Eventually, he folded. Spencer still had to sign an absurd amount of paperwork. In turn, Spencer explained the things he'd been up to since you left, how he refused to lose you again once he spotted you.

Things aren't perfect. They are better, though.

"Hey," you say, pulling at his hand until he stops. "I love you."

A big smile spreads across his face, and he leans forward until your foreheads are touching. "I love you too."

When you kiss him, you vow to yourself to never leave again.

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x you #spencer x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds #dorothywrites #spencer reid x y/n

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zmayadw · 3 years

Text

Hello to all :)

So, before I run off for the weekend and from this unberable heat to my own little personal Duskwood (by which I mean a house in the woods :D ), I promised to someone I would post the epilogue to my story by friday, and I keep my promises :)

Anyway, I wish you all to have a great weekend! Take care :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 27 - EPILOGUE

And so a year passed. One year since Hanna was found, one year since I met my wonderful friends. And one year since the most beautiful blue eyes I ever saw stopped haunting my dreams and became my reality.

It's been almost six months since I decided to move in with Jake and make Duskwood my new home. It was the easiest decision I ever made. They all became the most important people in my life, and I couldn't even imagine a day passing without beeing close to them. We shared a bond stronger than anything. They became my family, and family definitely doesn't start or end with blood.

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

„You said five more minutes. Almost twenty passed!“ Jake announces from the doors. „I know, I know! I'm done!“ Turning in my chair, I just stare at him. „What? Do I look that bad?“ he asks worryingly after a moment. He was wearing black pants and a dark blue formal shirt, wich made his eyes color even more intense. That always amazed me, their color changing from greyish-blue to such an intense blue, I got lost in them so manny times. „Maya?“ His words snaped my attention back. Getting up I smile walking to him „Oh, the opposite, babe. You look very handsome.“ He smiles back. Wrapping my hands around his neck and kissing him softly first, then pulling him closer intensifying the kiss, hinting him more than clearly where I'm heading with this. He moves away raising his eyebrow „Oh, no, no, no.“ „What's a no?“ I ask, biting teasingly at my lover lip. Groaning he takes another step backwards from me „Argh, don't do this to me, angel!“ „I have no clue what you're talking about.“ I say taking a step towards him, playfully twirling a strand of hair arround my finger. „We don't have time for this!“ „Oh, well then.“ I say dissapointed and with a sigh start towards the bedrom. Passing him, I take my shirt off droping it on the floor at his feet „I suppose I'll go get ready then.“ I could feel his lustful stare following me. I barely stepped into the bedroom when his hand comes around me, pulling me to him, his other hand moving the hair from my neck. His soft lips on my skin sent tingles all over me. „You are driving me crazy.“ He whispers to my ear. „And you love it.“ I hum back. Turning me to face him he grins „But just so we're clear, you are going to explain to my sister why we were late to the wedding. And I'm dying to hear what excuse you will think of.“ Laughing I put my hands around his neck „Don't worry, babe, I can get quite creative when needed.“

„So, tell me you two, what was it that made you almost end up late for the wedding?“ Lilly was looking inquisitive at Jake and me. „Yes, Maya, please tell Lilly why we were almost late.“ Jake grins at me. Oh, he is so gonna get it for this! „There was...an emergency with my dress.“ She snorts „Right, I'm sure there was.“ Flashing her the most wonderful smile I could make „Oh, come on, Lilly, don't be like this. Hannah just got married, we should all be happy.“ „You two are impossible. I need a drink.“ She shakes her head before leaving us. „Emergency with the dress? That's the best you could think of?“ Jake raise his eyebrow at me. I grin „Shush it. It worked..kinda.“ „No it didn't.“ He laughs. „Fine, it didn't.“ I agree. „Then next time, you think of something better.“ He chuckles „Oh no, I'm not letting you make a habbit out of it.“ Turning to him with a wicked smile and going for a kiss, but stoping so close our lips barely touch „Whatever you say, babe.“ Without finishing the kiss, I slowly turn and head for the bar. „You are killing me!“ he yells after me. I turn my head and wink, just as Dan shows up next to him. „Troubles at paradise, man?“ he asks him. Jake grins, not taking his eyes off me „Quite the opposite, man, quite the opposite.“

The cool night breeze swirled arround me as I lean on the railings of the terrasse. Watching my friends looking so happy and laughing makes me smile myself. Seeing them like this, no one would ever thought that a year ago their lives turned into a nightmare. Even if the scars of the past events might not be visible to the eye, they are there, imprinted deep into each one of them. With time, they will fade more, and become just a distant memory.

The scars on my body are a different story. They will always be there, a reminder of bad days. But that's all right, I don't want to forget anyway. I want to remember, that no matter what shit life threw at me, I survived, I came out of it stronger. And no matter what might come my way next, I will be all right. They are also a reminder of all the good things that came along with them – new unbreakable friendships, and love, the purest and strongest love. Non of it would be able to exist without all the bad thats happened.

A raven perched on a tree cawed, calling for my attention. His beady black eyes curiously observed me. It's caw echoes around me again, it's sinister voice carried deep into the forest. That sound was frightening to me, sending shivers down my spine, bad memories resurfacing with it. But not this time. With a smirk I look at the bird straight in the eye „Don't waste your time with me, you don't scare me anymore.“ The raven continued to stare at me, moving it's head from one side to the other, as if searching to find just a hint of doubt in my words. Unsuccessfully. It's wings flapped, it's caws echoing as I watch it fly away, getting lost somewhere deep in the forest. „Everything all right, angel?“ Jake voice comes from the doors. With a smile I move from the railing and turn to him, call of the raven falling more silent behind me „Everything is perfect.“

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

„Finaly! I was beginning to worry.“ I almost yell in my phone. „Sorry, angel, I just stepped outside a minute ago.“ „Well that took forever. At least tell me you have good news?“ I ask impatiently. „Let me pick you up, then we'll talk.“ „Oh, no, no, no.“ I protest. „I've been waiting for hours, I can't wait anymore, I'm going crazy here!“ „All right, all right.“ He laughs. „Sooooo, what's the verdict? Is it over?“ I was so nervous to hear his answer. „It's over, angel.“ I screamed so loud from happines, scolding myself instantly for doing so in a place that I was at the moment. „Oh, babe, I'm soooo happy to hear this!“ I laugh „You haven't called back for so long, I was beginning to play the worst scenarios in my head. I know Dan said I can ask him for anything, but I doubt he would agree in helping me busting you out of jail. With a mention of it being a federal one, the chances are even slimmer. “ He chuckles „Yeah, I doubt that, too.“ „Tell me, did they agree to your demands? Is your record clean again?“ „Let me put it like this“ he says „They were more then extremely satisfied with the results they got from the informations I provided for them, that I could have asked for an island and they would say yes to it.“ I burst out laughing „Well, owning an island is a new trend these days.“ He laughs back. „Jake?“ I say serious. „What's up, angel?“ „Do you regret doing any of this? I mean, this was something you were forced to do, and honestly, I don't want you to end up hating me one day for any of this. I know I asked you that before, but still..“ „Listen to me, angel. I would do all of this the same way every time, without hesitation, through a thousand lifetimes, if in the end it would mean I get to have you.“ A tear escape my eye, more threathening to follow „Gosh, don't you get me in tears, silly! Now, come and get me, so we can go celebrate properly!“ He chuckles „All right, angel. And where are you?“ „You don't know?“ I ask surprised. „Don't tell me you stopped tracking my phone?“ „I will never do that.“ I laugh „Good, then you'll know where to pick me up. Love you.“ „Love you, too. See you soon, angel.“

I know why I decided to come to this place while nervously waiting for news from Jake. First time he brought me along, there was such calmness radiating from him, just sitting here, in the same spot I am sitting now. I never seen him being more at peace anywhere else but here. I guess I hoped coming here would do the same for me. And I was not wrong.

Collecting my stuff I stand up and look at the tombstone that I was sitting in front all this time.

Here lies Anna

A beloved daughter and mother

You will be missed forever

„Don't worry, Anna“ I smile at the tombstone throwing my backpack over my shoulder „Jake will be all right, I'll take good care of him. I promise.“

THE END

A/N: All right, so this is it, the end. I want to say a big 'thank you' to anyone who read it! :) I had fun writing it, and I hope you had fun reading it :) And honestly, I am a bit sad it ended, but we all know all things must come to an end eventually. Anyway, thak you again, much love to you all :)

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc

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the-badger-mole · 4 years

Text

Traditional

“You scared?”

Zuko’s mouth pulled down slightly at the corners, but after years of practicing diplomacy and his uncle’s lessons on holding his temper, that was the only show of Zuko’s displeasure.

“I have no reason to be afraid,” he said. He quirked his brow at Katara and met her gaze pointedly. “According to you.” Katara shrugged, though it was difficult to tell under her heavy, fur lined parka.

“Well, Dad and Sokka already like you,” she reminded him.”It’s just everyone else you have to convince.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, wishing that the Southern Water Tribe was like...well any place else in the world. Having the Chief and his heir on his side would have been enough in literally any other country in the world. But this wasn’t anywhere in the world. This was the Southern Water Tribe. Their numbers were still small after all this time, and they were fiercely loyal to each other. Families were intimately involved in each others’ lives. Beside him, Katara nudged him gently. He felt the comforting pressure of it through his own thick parka.

“You’re going to be fine,” she promised, flashing him a reassuring smile.

Her eyes were full of trust and confidence, and it bolstered Zuko’s own. But only just slightly. After all, he was about to ask her entire extended family for their blessing to marry her. It was...daunting.

“What if...what if they don’t like this?” Zuko asked. Katara shrugged with a bravado that Zuko knew she didn’t feel.

“I already said yes,” she said. “I’m old enough to make my own choices. Dad, Sokka and Gran Gran will understand. If anyone else has a problem with it...well, we just won’t invite them to the wedding.”

“I don’t want to cause problems with you and your family,” Zuko lowered his voice, as if anyone could hear him. He and Katara had climbed to the ship’s crows nest, both for the privacy and to catch the first glimpse of Katara’s home. Katara sighed and rested her head against Zuko’s shoulder. “You’re my family,” Katara said firmly. “I love you, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Besides, we’ve been dating for two years. There were only two ways for this to end.”

Zuko sighed and pressed his forehead against Katara’s hair. She was right, of course. As Fire Lord, openly courting a woman meant that she was being seriously considered as his wife. He and Katara had spoken at length about the expectations before they decided to start dating. Then they spent another eternity talking with Iroh, Hakoda and Sokka about the expectations before going public with their relationship. If anyone was taken by surprise by their engagement at this point, then it was really out of Katara and Zuko’s hands. They had followed protocol more strictly than any Fire Lord and potential Fire Lady had in at least the last two centuries.Still...

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going to happen here?” Zuko asked. Katara sat up and shrugged.

“I’ve told you what I could,” she said. “You have to speak to my father, Gran Gran and Sokka about your intention. Then you present me with your gifts, and then my closest male relatives take you hunting.”

That was the part that gave Zuko pause. He knew better than to think Hakoda or Sokka would harm him (permanently), but Katara said that Bato and Pakku would likely be there as well. Zuko had interacted with both men a handful of times since the end of the war, and they had been courteous, if a bit cold. They grew even more frigid after he started dating Katara. He wasn’t sure how either of them would treat him out on the tundra. Away from Katara. Away from witnesses in general. It would be all too easy to arrange an accident...

“Would you stop worrying?” Katara reached up and poked Zuko where his brow furrowed over his nose. “It’ll be fine. You’ve been hunting before.”

“Not on ice,” Zuko grumbled. “And never while trying to impress my fiancee’s family.”

“Don’t worry, they already like you!”

Zuko recalled the last time he had interacted with Katara’s step-grandfather and waterbending master. He had given the Water Tribe elder a deep, respectful bow-something unheard of for a Fire Lord to do. He rose to find Pakku eyeing him critically and prepared with a comment on how sloppy the bow was, and how in the Northern Tribe, young men were taught to show their elders the utmost respect.

“We’ll be there soon,” Zuko said, casting his narrowed gaze over the horizon. “Are you ready?” Katara leaned up and pressed a kiss to Zuko’s cheek.

“I’ve been ready for this for two years.”

****

Per the Southern Water Tribe’s custom, Katara disembarked the ship first, on a dinghy, so she could greet Zuko with her family. As the chief’s daughter, all of the Southern Tribe was considered family, and so had the right to be there when Zuko came to ask for a blessing on his and Katara’s upcoming marriage.

For two days Zuko was left on his ship while the village prepared for his official arrival. Any representatives from the surrounding villages who wanted to be present would arrive during this time, and the family members who would be joining the hunt would make sure that their supplies were ready. Ordinarily, the suitor would have his own preparations to make, but Zuko had done everything he was supposed to before he left Caldera. All he could do for two days was drive himself, his uncle and his crew insane with last minute worries.

“What if she doesn’t like what I got her?” Zuko asked his uncle.

“I’m sure she’ll love your gifts,” Iroh assured him.

“Has the guest room been prepared in case her grandmother wants to come back with us?” Zuko asked the ship’s captain. It was a possibility that Katara had prepared him for. Usually, the mother of the intended went with her daughter to her future home to help get her set up and meet her future in-laws. Kanna might not feel up to the cross ocean trek, but she might decide to go after all. Zuko wanted to make sure the voyage was as comfortable as possible.

Then Zuko had inventory taken on all the supplies he had brought for Katara’s village. In the eight years since the end of the war, the Southern Water Tribe had slowly, but surely begun to come into their own power. Still, Katara assured him that the extra fabric, metal, and spices would be welcomed. When he was done with all of that, there was nothing left for him to do but wait.

Finally, at around noon on the second day, it was finally time for the Fire Lord to arrive in the village. Stepping off of the boat felt eerily similar to the first time he had first set foot onto the icy land eight years earlier. Things had certainly changed. He was no longer a desperate 16 year-old boy on an impossible mission. He wore practical wool and furs instead of slightly too large battle armor. The piers had been rebuilt in the intervening time, and Zuko had seen them himself several times before without the odd knot in his stomach. But like that first time, he was met with rows of solemn faces staring at him, uncertainly. He was once again an unwelcome foreigner come to disturb their peace.

There were some friendly faces in the crowd, Zuko had to remind himself. There a few Tribesmen and women he had gotten the chance to know over the past few years of peace. Some he had begun nascent friendships with before he had even allowed himself to hope Katara liked him the way he liked her. Nukilik, the village armsmith flashed him a grin and what Zuko could only assume were two thumbs up. It was hard to tell through the thick mittens, but it made more sense than the man balling his hands into fists.

Hakoda and Sokka were there, too. Zuko noticed with relief that neither of them seemed upset to see him. Hakoda smiled the placid, slightly tired smile Zuko had learned to recognize over the years. Sokka’s grin was slightly more disturbing- more of a baring of teeth than a smile, paired with a mischievous gleam.

“Welcome, Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda greeted him formally, but warmly grasping his forearm in the traditional Water Tribe greeting. “I heard your trip was smooth. I hope it was also pleasant.”

“It was,” Zuko said loud enough for the bystanders to hear.”We made better time than I’d hoped.”

“Of course you did,” Sokka declared, grabbing his friend’s arm the way Hakoda had. Then he pulled Zuko into a one armed hug, slapping the young Fire Lord hard on the back. “You had a master waterbender with you.”

“We should get going,” Hakoda said. “There are others who are anxious to see you’ve made it here safe.” Zuko blushed a deep red as a wave of laughter passed through the crowd. They knew exactly what Hakoda meant. And just like that, Zuko was accepted by them. The awkward suitor of a daughter of their tribe.

The crowd fell in line behind Zuko’s small entourage. He walked at the head with Hakoda and Sokka in an informal procession through the town. The buildings were nowhere near as ornate as those he had seen in the Northern Water Tribe, but Zuko recognized a bustling, prosperous town. The houses and shops were like the people of the Southern Tribe- practical, sturdy and possessing a unique grace all their own. In the middle of the village stood a long low hall that served as Hakoda’s seat of power, the village community center, and for today, a banquet hall.

Katara sat at a table on a raised platform with her Gran Gran and Master Pakku. She wore a parka lined with pristine white and grey fur. Her hair had been done in elaborate looping braids that had been fastened with bead and ivory combs.On her forehead had been painted a dark crescent moon. The mark of the brave she earned years earlier, she had once explained to Zuko. She was all Water Tribe today. To Zuko, she had never seemed more regal and queenly- not even in her Ambassador’s robes- and he wanted to stop and thank everyone present for giving rise to the most compassionate, strong, intelligent and beautiful Fire Lady the world would ever know. But he restrained himself. He hadn’t officially declared his intentions yet.

Hakoda and Sokka clapped Zuko on the back almost hard enough to knock him to his knees, but Zuko managed to stay standing. Then they left him at the foot of what he now recognized as a dias, and took their seats. Hakoda at the center with his children on either side of him.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda addressed him in a somber tone. “Why have you come?” It wasn’t exactly a friendly start to this conversation, but Katara had told Zuko to expect this.He glanced up at Katara and found her watching him. She gave him a small, supportive smile and nodded slightly. Spirits, she was gorgeous. Zuko tried to swallow and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and say the words Katara had told him to say.

“Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe,”he managed to say clearly.”Honored elders,” he bowed to Kanna and Pakku, “beloved family,” he turned to acknowledge the people gathered in the hall. “I have come to make it known that I intend to marry your daughter, Master Katara, and I humbly ask your blessings.” The room fell uncomfortably silent. After a moment, he risked a glance up. Hakoda was watching him with a stoney eyed stare. It wasn’t quite angry, but it wasn’t exactly encouraging, either.

“Here in the Southern Water Tribe a marriage is not to be entered into lightly,” he began after a long pause. “When a couple decides to join their lives together, they agree to protect each other. Each has their own duty to the home and family they will build together, and neither is more or less important. Can you promise to help her build a safe and sturdy home together?”

Safe and sturdy were so subjective. He could provide Katara a palace with loyal and well trained guards. Even with the Fire Nation’s funds diminished with the costs of rebuilding infrastructure, providing for the financially devastated poor and making reparations to the nations damaged by his family’s war, Zuko’s wife and children would want for nothing substantial. Still he knew that as beloved as Master Katara, the Water Tribe Ambassador had become, there would always be people opposed to a foreign Fire Lady, just as there would always be opposed to the Fire Lord who ended the war that made whole generations of Fire Nobility wealthy. But Katara had acknowledged those obstacles, and she had still chosen him- him!- in spite of the risks. Zuko wasn’t afraid for her or himself or their children. They had faced down worse odds together. Zuko met Katara’s eye once more, taking courage from the way they seemed to gleam in the lantern light.

“I promise,” Zuko swore. He knew what was coming next. He was neither surprised nor dismayed when Hakoda spoke again.

“Words are not enough. Words alone are empty and can be spent lightly.” Hakoda’s stone-faced expression broke slightly, and Zuko thought he saw the beginning of a smile. “You will have a chance to prove your ability to provide. Tomorrow you will join me and my son, Sokka on a hunt. If your kill is acceptable to my daughter, it will serve as your betrothal feast.”

With that, Hakoda stood and left the assembly with Sokka and Katara following behind him. Kanna and Pakku feel in behind them, followed by the village elders. Finally, Zuko and his entourage were guided to where they would stay for the duration of the trip. Iroh, who had been uncharacteristically silent for the ceremony, nudged his nephew in the ribs. He grinned up at Zuko excitedly.

“You did so well, Fire Lord Zuko!” he stage whispered. “I’m very proud of you. And so, may I add, was Master Katara.” Zuko didn’t feel that he had done much at all. He’d barely spoken- had barely had the chance to speak- and he would have to trek the icy tundra the next day and hope he didn’t embarrass himself too badly in front of his future in-laws. But then he remembered how Katara’s proud look when he’d caught her eye, and Zuko knew he’d go anywhere and accomplish any task if it meant he got to be with her for the rest of his life.

*.*.*.*.*

“I know Dad has to look strong and dignified in front of everyone,” Katara said. “But he could have at least cracked a smile up there.”

There hadn’t been an official banquet that evening. Hakoda had predicted that his guests would be tired after their journey, so Zuko’s crew had gone to dinner at the inn where they would be staying for this trip, and Zuko and Iroh, along with a couple of guards, were staying with Hakoda and his family. After dinner, everyone adjourned to their rooms for the evening, leaving Zuko and Katara the common room. They were curled up together on a pile of cushions and rugs in front of the fire, discussing the day, just like they had done almost every night for the past two years.

“I’m sure this isn’t easy on him,” Zuko pointed out in reply to Katara’s complaint. “You’re his only daughter, and you’re not only getting married, you’ll be moving across the world from him.”

“I’ve been the Water Tribe Ambassador for three years!” Katara reminded him. “It’s not like my living situation is going to change. Well,” Katara looked up and winked at Zuko, “not much.”

“It’s going to be a bigger change than you think,” Zuko said thoughtfully. “The Ambassador thing was always going to be temporary. Eventually, you would have decided to move on to something else, or get married and start a family-” Zuko allowed a small smile to cross his face as he pulled Katara a bit closer. “He probably assumed you would be a little closer to home when that happened. He’s going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss him, too,” Katara admitted. “And Sokka and Gran Gran and Suki and Pakku. But I’ll visit as often as I can. Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been Daddy’s Lil’ Princess.”

“Katara, your dad is the Chief of the entire Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko chuckled. “You’re everyone’s princess.”

“I told you, that’s not how it works down here,” Katara huffed. “I’m not-”

“Officially a princess,” Zuko completed, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know. But you are still really important here. Whether you want to admit it or not, you pretty much are a princess.”

“I am not!” Zuko noticed with no small amount of amusement that Katara was blushing. He grinned mischievously.

“I think I should talk with your dad about getting you a crown,” he teased. Katara jabbed his ribs with her elbow.

“Don’t you start giving people ideas,” she chided. “If dad gives me a crown, Sokka’s going to insist on having one, and his head is swollen enough without adding the weight.”

“You’re going to have a crown soon anyway,” Zuko pointed out. “Maybe you should have one just to get used to it.” Katara hummed thoughtfully and nestled into Zuko’s side.

“Do I have to wear a crown?” she asked. “What if I just got some really fancy beads?”

Zuko reached up and brushed his fingers against Katara’s braids. The truth was he couldn’t care less about what she wore when she was Fire Lady. He’d made it clear to his advisors that she would be welcome to integrate elements of her own culture in their day to day life at the palace. Still..

“You should probably have one for formal occasions, at least,” he said thoughtfully. “But aside from that, you can do whatever you like with your hair. And your clothes.” Zuko’s fingers wandered away from her hair to the thick fur lining her hood. “I wouldn’t recommend fur, though.”

“I don’t know,” Katara shrugged. “I think showing up to a council meeting in a full fur parka would be a serious power move.”

“Most of them are already afraid of you. But whatever you want, my love, is fine with me.”

“Aw!” Katara twisted around and planted a kiss on the edge of Zuko’s jaw. “You’re so good to me.” Despite two years and many kisses, Katara still managed to make Zuko blush.

“Ick!” The pair turned to find Sokka cringing in the doorway. “You two are so gross.”

“Oh, please!” Katara snorted. “You and Suki are just as bad.” At the mention of his wife, Sokka’s face crumpled miserably.

“Suki!” he wailed. “Why’d you have to bring her up? I’d almost forgotten to miss her today.”

“She’ll be home in two weeks.” Katara rolled her eyes, unsympathetically. Suki was back in Kyoshi to visit her aunt. It was the first time she’d been back since her and Sokka’s wedding almost a year earlier, and Sokka had been supportive of the trip, but he hadn’t counted on missing her so much.

“It feels different being apart when you’re married,” Sokka lamented. “You’ll find out.” Then with a menacing smirk he added, “You know, assuming you come back from the hunting trip.” Katara felt Zuko tense up and she glared at her brother.

“Stop teasing him,” she scolded. She brushed her fingers across Zuko’s cheek. “He’s going to be fine.” Zuko turned his head and kissed the palm of Katara’s hand. Sokka shuddered.

‘Have you ever actually been hunting?” Sokka asked Zuko. “This is a pretty big deal. The entire village is invited to this party. It’s a bad look if you don’t bring enough food for everyone.”

“Sokka!” Katara sat up and fixed her brother with a warning glare. Sokka threw his hands up in surrender.

“Whatever,” he said. “But you really should go to bed soon. We’re leaving early tomorrow. Anyway, I’m turning in. Go back to being gross.” When he was gone, Zuko glanced down at Katara nervously.

“I have hunted before,” he said softly as if spilling some deep dark secret. “But it was just small animals. It was right before...before Ba Sing Se. Never anything like...” Zuko motioned around the room at the trophies from other hunts. There were large ivory tusks hanging from the walls and thick, furs trapping the precious heat. Everything came from animals at least as big as he was.

“Are you worried you can’t do it?” Katara asked. Zuko felt a rush of heat to his face.

“Well...what if I can’t?” he asked. “If this is how I propose, will we not be allowed to marry if I can’t bring in a...a...” Once again, Zuko gestured around the room. Katara sat up, pulling away from Zuko’s embrace so she could face him.

“First of all,” she held up a finger under his nose, “I’ve already agreed to marry you. All we’re doing here is telling people and giving you a chance to bond with my family. Second,” another finger joined the first, “Dad and Sokka are expert hunters. You’ll come back with something, I guarantee it. Third, I love you, and there’s nothing that can change that, so stop freaking out about this. It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Fun,” Zuko snorted, but he did feel better.

“Promise you’ll at least try to have fun?” Katara rolled her eye, feigning exasperation. Zuko kissed her forehead and nodded.

“I’ll try,” he promised.

“Great!” Katara resettled into her previous spot, curled up with Zuko with a happy sigh.

“I have to go to bed,” Zuko protested weakly.

“Fire more minutes,” Katara said. “I won’t see you for a few days, so I want my cuddle time now.”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

#zutara #atla #atla fanfic #soft katara #soft zuko #traditional

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vecnawrites · 4 years

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A Sister’s Temptation, Chapter 1

Knight Jaune Arc is in desperate need of solace, so goes to the local church for confession. Sister Pyrrha of the Sisters of Beacon has always felt for the blonde knight, can she resist temptation?

(Posted on AO3 (same name as here) with art from Owl_pie!

Knight Jaune Arc made his way into the church, heart heavy with worry and anxiety. Even though all of his training made him one of the most skilled knights in the village of Ansel, he still worried about the Grimm. They never made things easy. Fortunately there had been no losses in several weeks.

But the last...had been saddening. An elderly woman, one in her seventies. While everyone said he should feel no guilt, having been helping the neighboring town when the attack happened, he still felt like it was his fault for not being there, like he could have done something…

That’s why he was going to the church. He knew confessing and getting advice from the priest or the sisters would help. It always did.

Inside the church, Sister Pyrrha Nikos’ eyes brightened as she saw her favorite blonde enter the church. She had always held a flame for him since they had been children, but unfortunately, never had the courage to confess before she had been asked to join the sisterhood. But the feelings remained, and indeed, only became even stronger as the years passed and he grew into the strong knight she knew he could be.

Oh, she knew it was wrong to lust, so wrong, and pleaded to God for forgiveness nightly as she committed the sin of masturbation, her fingers running through her folds as she instead imagined her strong knight’s fingers, tongue and even cock exploring her sacred garden, spreading her slick wetness around, moaning into a pillow as she brought herself to shameful completion, imagining herself wrapped in his arms as she drifted off to sleep.

“Careful, sister,” she heard a voice distantly chastise her, and turned to see Sisters Sustrai and Politan looking at her in amusement. “Get any thirstier and we’ll have to pour holy water on you.” Pyrrha flushed, but knew that the two wouldn’t inform Mother Superior Goodwitch and get her into trouble. After all, both Emerald and Neo had been taken in from the streets, both having been stealing and selling their own bodies in order to survive. “But it looks like your man wants to confess...you’d better hurry, otherwise Schnee or Rose will get him!”

Leaving her giggling sisters behind (curse their traitorous mindsets), Pyrrha hurried up, concern filling her breast as she saw the tired, almost haunted look on the face of the man she loved. But she smiled sweetly at him, hoping to ease his heart a bit. “Hello, Knight Arc,” her heart twisted in bitter sourness at being forced to address the one she loved in such a manner, but there were too many people around.

Despite the heaviness of his heart, Jaune couldn’t help but smile as Sister Nikos, one of his oldest friends, come up to him, although he would admit it did sting to hear his formal title come out of her mouth. “Hello, Sister Nikos...is Father Ozpin or Mother Superior Goodwitch in?” his heart sank as she shook her head.

“No, I’m sorry, but they’re on pilgrimage to the neighboring towns, performing weddings and last rites...perhaps there is something I can help you with?” Pyrrha asked, hoping that her love would allow her to sooth his worries.

“I...I wished to confess to one of them, but I don’t wish to bother you with my troubles…” Jaune began, only to blink several times as Pyrrha grabbed his right hand in both of hers, looking at him intensely, her emerald eyes staring into his cerulean.

“There’s no need for that line of thought, Knight Arc! Please, follow me. I will gladly take your confession and ease your burdens.” Pyrrha began to gently lead her oldest friend along the path to the confessional, trying desperately to ignore the rapid fluttering in her breast.

Jaune himself, was fighting the heat that wanted to rise within his cheeks. He knew that it was wrong to lust, especially after a sister of all things, but he couldn’t help himself. He had known most of these sisters since they were all small children, but Pyrrha...Pyrrha was special. She was his first real crush, and he had hoped to court her...but she and most of his and her female friends in their age group had been chosen to join the “Sisters Of Beacon”.

Unbidden, his eyes drifted down, pants tightening as the nun’s robe Pyrrha wore was rather...flattering, to say the least, clinging tightly to her full backside, the round swells of her rear jiggling lightly as she walked.

His pants began to strain as he watched, making him tear his eyes away in a panic, his blue eyes darting back and forth, praying that no one caught that. He could not be seen lusting after a sister! He groaned mentally. That was another sin to confess, and to the woman he was showing lust to, to boot!

Coming up to the confessional booth, Pyrrha turned and smiled sweetly at Jaune. “Here we are, Knight Arc. Please enter.” she tilted her head as she saw the flush on his face, wondering what that was from, before entering and closing the door behind her.

The small stall surrounded her, the must of pine and incense filling her nose, the only two fixtures a small latticed ‘window’ (more for aesthetic than anything) and a circular hole to allow the confessor and the priest or sister to communicate easier. Hearing the shuffling and muffled clanks of Jaune’s armor as he sat down, Pyrrha placed her hand on her breast and tried to calm her rapidly pounding heart. “Speak, and tell me of your sorrows.” she said, placing her hand on the wall and imagining what the man she loved looked like on the other side, his downcast eyes, his pinched brow, the twitching muscle next to his mouth. Her heart ached at the thought.

Jaune swallowed, lacing his hands together as he imagined Pyrrha sitting down on the bench, looking so much more beautiful than any nun should, the robe she wore tight around her body, stretching around her bust and her bottom, those full lips...he shook his head forcefully to get those images out of his head, but to his dismay, he was fully hard, his erect shaft pressing against the inside of his pants, tenting them outwards. He would have to stay in here until it softened.

Hearing Pyrrha’s words, he jerked in place, fumbling through his thoughts. “I...forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned.” he began with the traditional confessional greeting. And god, had he just sinned not moments ago. But he would start with the problem he had initially come for help with: dealing with the guilt.

“I...I feel guilt over the last Grimm attack. I know people say I shouldn’t-” he heard a soft sigh from next to him. “And they are right...you shouldn’t.”

Pyrrha placed her hand on the wall again, desperately wishing that it was her love’s face, but she would make do with her words for now. “Miss Calavera lived a very long, very happy life. It is true what happened was tragic, but I was there to give her last rites. She told me that she had lived a very long life, and wasn’t afraid. She was happy that it was her, rather than one of the children, and that she would get to see her own family once more. Please, June, do not feel guilt over not being here...Maria wouldn’t want you to.” Pyrrha desperately wished to reach out and hold Jaune's hand, but the blasted wood prevented her.

Jaune sighed softly, feeling his spirit lift as he heard of Maria Calavera's final words. His lips tweaked upwards. "T-thank you, Sister Nikos...I...I guess that's all I needed to truly hear."

But that relief was ruined by the second part of the confession he would have to make...that he had lusted after her. He hoped that she wouldn't think him a filthy deviant and never want to speak to him again.

Pyrrha smiled, happy that she had eased her loved one's heart. "I'm so glad I was able to help you...is there anything else you need to confess?"

Jaune grit his teeth. This was it. "I am dealing with problems concerning...lust." he hated the fact that he practically growled the last word, but god, his cock ached! "Particularly when I am desiring someone I truly shouldn't."

Pyrrha gasped, bringing her hand up to her mouth. Jaune was listing after someone? Who? The shock retreated to reveal a nasty pang of pain and the burn of jealousy, but she tempered it and forced it down. Jaune needed her. "When did you first notice these feelings?" her voice was soft, as though making sure she didn't scare a frightened animal. Her tone also served to cover her own feelings.

"I...I think these feelings have always been there...but I only noticed them very recently...and only acknowledged them today."

Jaune squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. This was it. "I have been lusting after you, Pyrrha." there. He said it.

Pyrrha's eyes were wide, her mouth open in a silent 'o'...her thighs rubbing together from the sudden influx of heat between her thighs from this knowledge. She roughly swallowed. This might be the chance to actually get what she fantasized about...

Before she could speak, Jaune continued, his voice becoming more panicked. "I know it's wrong, so wrong, you're a Sister, and I shouldn't dare-"

"Jaune." Pyrrha spoke firmly, knowing that she had to take control of the situation, before it got too out of hand.

The knight cringed at the firm tone, but stopped speaking, knowing she deserved to say her piece. "You are correct, this lust is a problem…" he winced more, "So we are going to take steps to mitigate it." he blinked. What did Pyrrha mean?

Taking a deep breath as she rubbed her core through her thick robe and panties, Pyrrha licked her lips and said, "I want you to open your pants, and show me the effects the lust I have stirred within you caused."

Jaune's eyes bulged as he heard Pyrrha's words. "B-but Sis-sister!" he stuttered. He shivered as he heard a firm noise.

"I have caused lust within you and forced you to sin, Jaune. It is therefore my duty to fix it. Open your pants."

Swallowing, Jaune rose to his feet and turned, unbuckling his belt and loosening his trousers. Lowering them a bit, his erect shaft sprung out, and despite himself and the situation, he groaned in relief. His cock was angry, his balls heavy and hanging beneath.

"I heard that, Jaune! It's getting worse, place yourself through the hole so I can help cleanse you of your pent up lust!"

Jaune swallowed, and taking a deep breath, moved towards the hole and slowly slipped his cock through it.

Pyrrha watched with bated breath as Jaune’s shaft entered her side of the confessional, her heart pounding hard and her breathing getting fast and shallow as it moved further and further in, the thick pillar of flesh arching slightly upwards, the veins prominent, the head an angry dark red. It was bigger than she had imagined in her head, and she slipped off of the bench, kneeling before it, her nose twitching as she smelled his powerful, enticing scent, a rich musk that filled the small area. Placing her left hand on the wall next to the hole, Pyrrha gently reached out and grasped the thick flesh.

Both gasped in unison.

Jaune fought not to buck his hips against the wall and alert anyone outside, biting her lip and grunting as Sister-as Pyrrha’s ever-so-soft hand cupped his erection, her slim fingers curling around his swollen flesh, his fingers rolling and curling against his palms, making fists against the thin wood. “Sister, please forgive me…” he gasped, eyes rolling back in his head.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, could feel herself soaking her undergarments as she gently held the hot, almost burning, flesh in her palm. She felt a rapid beat against her hand, his heartbeat, she realized, slowly beginning to stroke it. A soft, but throaty groan met her, making her smile.

“Don’t worry, young knight...you just need to trust me...I’ll get all of that pent up lust out of you, I promise.” Pyrrha smiled softly, her cheeks flushed and eyes hooded. She began to stroke gently in earnest, watching in amazement as clear fluid began to bead at the tip and weep, her palm catching it and making the glide of her hand smoother.

She knew what it was. Precum, Jaune was aroused by her actions and responding. How did she know this? The resident reformed thieves/prostitutes, of course. They had given her far more information than she had ever wanted to know, but in this moment, she found herself grateful for the knowledge.

She stroked him further, with more energy, her own breathing and the heat between her thighs growing as Jaune’s moans grew louder and longer in intensity. “Pyrrha...oh, God, Pyrrha…” she squirmed as Jaune’s voice, the voice of the man she loved, said her name with such passion.

“That’s it, Jaune…” she gently encouraged as she rubbed his flesh, “Let it all out...cleanse yourself of your lust.” she murmured. ‘Not for me, though, never for me…’ she never wanted Jaune to stop desiring her, even if she was a Sister. Recalling more of Emerald and Neo’s talks, she knew that Jaune would cum, and it would be messy, especially depending on how long it had been since he had ‘gotten off’, and it would have to go somewhere.

Blushing brightly, Pyrrha took her free hand off of the wall and reached to her waist, brining her top up slowly, exposing the smooth expanse of her belly and with a forceful tug, her large breasts, her nipples already stiff as she bared her upper half to the small room. She liked to imagine Jaune could see them, his eyes looking at her body in lust and awe.

As she placed her hand back on the wood, she continued to stoke Jaune, she recalled one final tidbit of ‘advice’ from Emerald and Neo: that men loved it when lips and tongue were involved, but that it usually tasted horrible. She looked down, nervously licking her lips, before leaning her head down…

Jaune rested his forehead against the confessional wall, taking deep breaths to keep himself from breaking too early. On some level, even though he knew that this was only meant to be of help for his lust, he couldn’t keep himself from trying to impress Pyrrha with his stamina, even though, like her, he had never done anything like this before.

He closed his eyes and imagined Pyrrha kneeling before him, gently holding his cock, looking up at him with those beautiful green eyes-his balls churned, wanting to release everything they had backed up within them, but he couldn’t do that. That would cover Pyrrha in his cum, and she would be ruined when the other sisters either recognized what it was on her, or got too inquisitive and asked-his eyes snapped open and nearly popped out of their sockets as something warm and wet touched the head of his cock.

Pyrrha smiled as her tongue moved away from the head of his shaft. 'That wasn't bad at all!' she realized. It didn't taste bitter, or any of the other unpleasant things that Emerald and Neo had described. In fact it was rather...sweet?

She licked his head again, getting that same taste, as well as that same intense gasp from Jaune. God, she squirmed in place, this was so sinful, but she couldn't stop!

She began to kiss and lick the leaking tip as she pumped the pale flesh, the moans and whimpers she received music to her ears.

Jaune wanted to hold out, he truly did, but this felt too good! He scrambled, he needed to at least warn Pyrrha. "Pyrrha, I'm...oh, God...cumming!" he gasped, his world going blank as pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. “A-AAHHH~!”

Hearing Jaune's desperate warning, Pyrrha straightened and began to stroke Jaune's shaft fiercely, aiming the tip for her bare breasts.

She shivered as the flesh within her palm throbbed mightily, before spitting out stream after stream of hot, thick, sticky fluid onto the swells of her bosom. Even then, some hit her face, coating her cheeks and dripping down her chin as well.

Her core throbbed with want beneath her skirt, the air around her legs hot and humid, the perfume of her own desire becoming noticeable in her booth. “Aahh…” she could hear Jaune’s relieved gasping through the thin wood, making her smile. “All sins are forgiven…” she murmured.

Finally as the spurts of fluid lessened and became mere trickles, Pyrrha leaned forwards again, gently licking away the excess, kissing the head as the shaft of flesh began to soften.

She smiled. "The first stage of treatment is complete." she said happily, carefully pulling down her top and shivering slightly as the 'cum' (as Emerald and Neo called it) smeared across her breasts. She then used her fingers to wipe her cheeks and chin off and after a moments thought, licked them clean, smiling at the fact that he did taste sweet, far better than she envisioned.

Feeling his cock finally softening, Jaune's mouth dropped, not only as he fully registered what just happened, but Pyrrha's words. "F-First stage?" he whispered, slowly pulling his cock back and tucking it into his pants.

Pyrrha smiled. "Of course! With lust as powerful as yours, you can't expect one treatment to cure it! From now on, whenever you feel lust, I want you to think of me, and at your soonest convenience, come and find me for another confession. I will happily do my duty as a Sister to help cleanse you of your sins."

Jaune and Pyrrha walked to the front of the Church in comfortable silence, Jaune taking furtive glances at his oldest friend, the girl he had come to love.

Smiling at her love as he stood at the door, Pyrrha waved lightly as he smiled at her before leaving through the door with a lighter heart.

Pyrrha smiled softly, glad that she had helped the man she loved...but for now she turned, feeling her soaking wet undergarments shift against her core. For now, she needed to go and help herself.

"Ahh!" Pyrrha moaned into her pillow as she lay naked, chest first onto it, her rear in the air as her fingers rubbed and delved into her wet, sticky core, her viscous essence coating her slim digits as she brought herself to the height of pleasure. "Yes! Jaune, please! EEK!" Pyrrha trembled as she reached the crescendo of pleasure, her naked body going limp on her bed, hand still cupping her core.

As she relaxed, a wicked thought entered her mind. She was helping Jaune relieve his lust, shouldn't he be kind enough to do the same for her? It wouldn't do for a sister to fall to temptation, after all…

A sultry smile formed on her lips and her hand began to twitch against her core again. That was a wonderful idea...one she would bring up when Jaune came for his next 'treatment'...

#Jaune Arc #Pyrrha Nikos #Arkos #Emerald Sustrai #Neopolitan #Glynda Goodwitch #Ozpin #Nun!Pyrrha #Knight!Jaune #cross posted on AO3

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harrowharkboygf · 4 years

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i want to see you, dressed all in white

a short catradora oneshot, set at the time of adora's future vision. requested by @nozomijoestar. read on ao3.

Catra could not believe she was wearing shoes for this. It was such a strange experience, hearing the click clack of heels coming from her feet as she walked, but alas! Such was the life of an ambassador of Brightmoon.

And, she thought privately, the life of the wife of She-Ra. Hopefully. If everything went well tonight. She subtly traced the outline of the ring in her pants pocket. The box itself would have been too big and clunky to fix in her pocket, so Glimmer had helped her out and given her a tiny leather pouch to hold it in.

“If she finds the pouch, just say it contains important ambassador information like…IDs!” Glimmer had suggested.

Catra had raised an eyebrow. “We need IDs for Princess Prom?”

“Well no, but…” It was Glimmer’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “You and Adora did miss half the planning meeting, so how would either of you know?”

Catra had smirked. “We were…busy.”

She gave her a decidedly unqueenly shove. “Of course you were, Horde Scum.” Then Glimmer pulled her into a hug. “I’m so happy for you both. Adora’s gonna say yes immediately.” Catra wasn’t worried about her saying no; she knew that Adora loved her more than anything, and they’d been talking about marriage for a while now. No, she was worried that somehow something would go wrong and it wouldn’t be perfect. Adora was as amazing as the moons and the stars—she deserved perfect.

“Catra? Catra!”

She snapped back to the present. Adora was waving her hand in front of her face, grinning. Even at age twenty-seven, she still hadn’t lost the adorable, dorky look on her face.

“Sorry, zoned out for a sec,” she said, taking Adora’s hand and jumping gracefully down from the skiff. She took a minute to admire how beautiful her girlfriend looked tonight—she looked like a queen in her own right, the tiara sparkling off her golden hair and the white dress making it all too easy for Catra to imagine her walking down a wedding aisle. Her stomach fluttered.

“Are you nervous for your second Princess Prom?” asked Adora; her tone was joking but her eyes softened in a way that made Catra feel instantly safe.

“Not with you by my side,” said Catra, pushing down her nerves and leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “Are you nervous?”

“Not with you by my side,” Adora mimicked, smiling against her lips.

If anyone was definitely nervous, it was Bow and Glimmer. This was the first formal event where they would be introduced as a married couple, and they had spent the whole skiff ride fiddling nervously with their clothes and asking to go over the schedule so often that Catra had asked Bow if he’d switched bodies with Adora.

“You two look amazing,” Adora told them for the seventh time this hour.

“Are you sure the capes don’t look stupid?” asked Glimmer. “I don’t wanna look childish.”

“What if I trip and fall on it?” Bow worried, toying with the edge of his cape.

“If you do, I will laugh and then kick all the asses of anyone else who laughed,” Catra assured him.

“And I’ll help!” said Adora gleefully, holding up her hand to be high-fived. Catra obliged her.

Glimmer and Bow both took a deep breath in sync. “Thanks, guys,” she said, a real smile spreading across her face.

Bow stuck out his hand. “Best Friend Squad!”

Everyone put their hands in the middle. “Best Friend Squad!” they cheered.

——

The former-Fright-Zone-now-renamed-the-Light-Zone looked absolutely stunning. Scorpia had really outdone herself. Unlike at Frosta’s prom, which had been decorated with gleaming ice sculptures, the ballroom was decorated with smooth, sleek black crystals reminiscent of the Black Garnet, giving the whole room a very sophisticated aura.

“Presenting Queen Glimmer and King Bow of Brightmoon!”

Bow and Glimmer did not, to their credit, trip over their capes or do anything else notably embarrassing. In fact, they were the textbook example of dignified, waving proudly to the crowd as they walked up to the dais, and then bowing low to Scorpia, who immediately jumped down from her throne to greet them.

And then it was their turn.

“Presenting Adora, Princess of Power, and Catra of Brightmoon!”

Catra offered her girlfriend her arm. It was partially an affectionate gesture and partially an effort to make sure she herself didn’t trip—she still wasn’t used to these shoes.

“Your Highness,” Catra said to Scorpia as she bowed.

“Oh, none of that ‘Highness’ crap!” Scorpia chortled, practically bouncing off her throne to envelop the two of them in a tight hug.

“All this stuff is so formal,” she whispered. “I’m so out of my depth.”

“You’re doing amazing,” Adora promised her.

The next hour or so was filled with so many boring conversations and introductions. It seemed like every diplomat and ambassador in Etheria wanted to talk to her and Adora. It was really cute when little kids came up asking for She-Ra autographs, but if Catra had to hear about the rising fish prices in Salineas one more time, she was going to be homicidal.

Despite coming as each other’s dates, Catra and Adora had to split up in order to divide and conquer all of their social obligations, a strategy that Bow and Glimmer had also adopted. That didn’t stop Catra from throwing as many longing looks at Adora from across the ballroom as physically possible.

She tried to seek shelter with Double Trouble, who would definitely not force her to ruminate on the state of “today’s youth”—a conversation that withered old advisers seemed to love—but their need to be the center of attention kept also drawing attention to Catra. This made it particularly hard to accomplish her goal of “only talking to people she wanted to talk to”. Glimmer, surrounded by a group of Mystacor sorcerers, gave her an arm squeeze in solidarity as she passed by.

Eventually she managed to escape yet another drab discussion of the pros and cons of a trade alliance between the Crimson Waste and the Kingdom of Snows under the premise of greeting Frosta. She was able to enjoy the beginning of a nice banter/advice session concerning Frosta’s love life before the princess was preoccupied with an adviser asking her opinion on intra-kingdom matters.

“I’m surprised you haven’t taken those off yet,” Adora said behind her, making her jump. She gestured down at the cursed shoes.

“I wish,” Catra grimaced, taking the cup of punch her girlfriend offered. “I was afraid someone would throw a fit.”

Adora wrapped an arm around her shoulders, which Catra leaned into gratefully. “Is it that advisor over there?” she whispered in her ear, subtly turning Catra’s head so she can see who she meant. “The one with an angry look on his face? Are you afraid of him?”

She snickered. “What, did you have to hear his monologue about decorum too?”

“He even made a comment about ‘last time’,” Adora told her, laughing under her breath. “A very pointed remark about breaking tradition.”

“Ooh, insulting She-Ra, is he? I’ll kick his ass.”

“My hero.”

Catra turned to face her fully, placing one hand on Adora’s hip. “You know it,” she murmured, leaning forward to press their lips together.

“Adora!”

Catra pulled back, groaning under her breath, as they both turned to see Perfuma waving at them. The flower princess held up her own cup and gestured at a group of stern-looking Plumerians. Adora pecked her cheek before hurrying off again.

At this point, Catra was beginning to get worried that she wouldn’t ever get the chance to be alone with Adora. She once again traced the outline of the ring pouch in her pocket, biting her lip.

Then, to her immense relief, music started playing. She grinned. It was time for the real party to start.

Adora easily found her on the dance floor. Catra leaned eagerly into her warm touch, let herself be rooted in her relaxed blue eyes. “Will you be my dance partner?” asked Adora teasingly.

Catra pretended to think it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Are you any good at it?”

Adora winked. “Nope.”

Catra blew her a kiss, and then the dance started, everyone moving in sync. Adora kept her eyes fixed on her girlfriend, her steps steady and confident despite her previously stated lack of talent. “I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too,” she murmured back. “Always have, always will.”

The movements of the dance pulled them closer, the tempo slowing down. Adora used this opportunity to cup her face and kiss her firmly—finally—before the pace of the music picked back up again and everyone switched partners.

The carefully-choreographed switch in the dance pushed her and Glimmer together, a move that made the both of them grin easily. Things really had changed since the last Princess Prom, Catra thought to herself.

“Do you have a specific plan?” asked Glimmer, nodding almost imperceptibly at her pocket.

Catra nodded. “I just need a way to get a moment alone with Adora.”

Glimmer winked at her. “I can do that.”

Then she was passed off to Mermista, who she hadn’t seen yet that evening. “Heard you knocked up,” said Catra in lieu of a greeting.

Mermista twirled her, a lazy smirk sliding across her face. “Yeah, just a little baby barnacle growing, nothing to see here.”

“Congrats,” Catra told her genuinely. Mermista would never be her best friend—that was reserved for Adora, and Glimmer and Bow—but she had the deepest respect for her, and they got along wonderfully.

A slight blush drifted over her cheeks. The queen had never been good at accepting compliments—one of the many things they had in common. “Bow told me,” she said, “so like, congrats to you too.”

Catra rolled her eyes, but there was no malice behind it. “What, does the entire Princess Alliance know?”

“Probably,” drawled Mermista, and then Catra spun her one last time before they parted ways.

“Catra!” Scorpia greeted her with just as much enthusiasm as before. “I heard the news! How can I help?”

As they began the waltz, Catra mulled it over. “Actually,” she said, her eyes lighting up, “I do have a request.”

——

“Greetings, Princess Prom guests!” Perfuma said in a trill, speaking into the microphone. “I hope you all enjoyed your first dance of the night! Now we will have a live performance by our beloved host, Princess Scorpia!”

The crowd cheered wildly. Scorpia stepped onto the stage, looking radiant and sure of herself under the spotlights. She tapped the microphone once to test it, before she began to hum the opening notes of a ballad.

Scorpia’s song wafted through the ballroom, filling the air. Perfuma sat behind her, strumming a huge string instrument made of wood and occasionally providing backup vocals.

Catra and Adora swayed together on the dance floor, saying nothing, just enjoying each other’s presence. Catra spun her around slowly as Scorpia crooned, occasionally pressing a light kiss to her skin as she drew her closer. Adora, in turn, just watched her, a soft look on her face.

After Scorpia finished her first song of the night, everyone cheered, clapping their hands and whistling in approval. The princess flushed a deep crimson, exchanging a delighted look with Perfuma over her shoulder. A shout of “Encore! Encore!” started up.

Catra took Adora’s hand. “Let’s sneak out for a bit,” she whispered. “Everyone’s entranced by Scorpia’s singing, so we won’t be missed.”

The gleam in Adora’s eyes was ever so familiar, a look that she hadn’t lost even as she grew older. “Lead the way,” she whispered back.

They snuck out through one of the many hallways branching out from the ballroom. The hallways were well lit and decorated similarly to the ballroom; it looked so different from the hallways they’d once scampered through as kids.

But they raced just the same, hand in hand, giggling as they chased each other. Catra mussed up Adora’s hair, cackling as her girlfriend playfully pulled her into a headlock. Their outfits were thoroughly disheveled by the time they reached the ladder, but Catra didn’t care.

“Do you recognize where we are?” she asked.

Adora touched the rail of the ladder. “Of course,” she said, returning Catra’s grin. “I’d recognize this place in my sleep, no matter how many times the walls are repainted.”

Catra kicked off her shoes, sighing with relief when the pads of her feet touched ground again. “Follow me, then.” She hoisted herself up onto the first rung of the ladder, and began to climb.

“Not fair!” shouted Adora below her. “I’m wearing a dress and you’re not!” But she heard her feet touch the ladder rungs anyway.

Catra offered Adora her hand on the top rung, which she took gratefully. The two of them stood together on the platform, in the exact spot where they’d spent so many hours as children. Catra inhaled, breathing in Adora’s sweet, familiar scent.

Adora stared out over the former Fright Zone, still wrapped around Catra. “The Light Zone is a good name,” she said finally.

Catra purred softly as she ran a hand through her hair. “It’s so much nicer now,” she marveled. “Scorpia did so well.”

Adora turned to look at her. “So did we,” she said, cupping her cheek. “We’ve rebuilt so much since the war ended seven years ago.”

Catra picked up on the double meaning of her words. “We have,” she said, pressing their foreheads together and smiling against her lips. Her heart pounded in her throat. This was the perfect moment.

Catra pulled back, just far enough to give her space to kneel. Quickly, she rehearsed her speech in her mind, She reached into her pocket and pulled the ring free from the leather pouch.

She began, “Hey, Adora—”

“Will you marry me?” blurted out Adora.

Catra’s jaw dropped. For a minute, she said nothing.

“I mean, you—you can say no,” Adora said hurriedly, clearly taking her silence as a bad sign. “I didn’t plan out an elaborate proposal or anything, I don’t even have a ring, but—”

“I have a ring!” said Catra, still shocked.

It was Adora’s turn to gape at her. “You—What?”

A grin split Catra ear to ear. “Yes, you idiot!” she exclaimed. “I was going to propose to you tonight—right now, actually! Glimmer and I have been planning this for months!”

Adora almost fell over laughing, clutching her stomach. “Wow,” she said, breathless, “we make quite a pair.”

“We do,” said Catra, throwing her arms around her neck and kissing her passionately.

“I love you,” Adora told her, her words slightly muffled against her lips.

Catra got down on one knee and held out the ring in her palm for real. “Adora,” she said, ignoring the happy tears that pricked the corner of her eyes, “will you marry me?”

Adora knelt down so they were level. “Yes,” she breathed out. “A million times, yes.”

#she ra #spop #catradora #catra #adora #glimmer #bow #perfuma #scorpia #mermista #she ra season 5 #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra fanfic #soph.txt

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dirt-cup-draco · 4 years

Text

Edmund x Reader- New Start (2/2)

Can you please do a part two of the “It’s our mutual friend’s wedding and they keep shoving us into each other because we’re the only ones at the ceremony who are single” AU. from the au post with edmund pevensie please? I love where the story is going also you have lovely writing it really feels like a book to get lost in.

Part 1 Here! ---> Ta Da

Previously:

“Lady Y/N,” Edmund smiled, extending his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Lady. He called you Lady! Your mind screamed as you took his hand. It was oddly comforting to have your hand encased in his.

“It’d be foolish of me to say no, your highness,” You added, and he nearly scolded you yet stopped when he saw the teasing smile on your lips. His heart pounded uncomfortably at the sight. You were quite pretty, weren’t you?

You could leave your status behind for at least one dance.

Peter and Rose were truly a match made in heaven. Peter was Rose’s rock and Rose was Peter’s peace. They had found love within royal status. A young king and a gorgeous princess, they had the universe wrapped around their finger. You envied them.

“Any reason for this silence that has been plaguing you for weeks now, my friend?” Rose asked as you tightened her corset, her voice getting caught off as her breath was stolen from the restricting article of clothing.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, your highness,”

“Now I know something is wrong,” She scolded as you used a formal title. Rose was very intent on breaking you of the habit, feeling as if servants should still be treated as friends, if not equals. You were lucky, others were lucky enough to get even a shred of respect.

“You know I don’t want to talk about it,” You sighed, growing more glum as she pressed for information. It was no secret to Rose you were suffering from a broken heart.

“You could-” Rose started but you had the gall to interrupt her.

“I can’t!” You cried out, pulling particularly hard on the laces as her spine straightened. Your Queen let out an impertinent huff as you tried to make the corset more comfortable, to no avail. “I’m sorry, lets just drop it,”

“If he knew how you suffered he wouldn’t be marrying someone else...” Rose chattered on.

“Rose.” You said, voice hard but eyes misty from the tears that you refused to let fall. You would not cry over Edmund Pevensie. “Leave it.”

“I just want you happy,” She said earnestly, spinning in your grip to rest her hands on your shoulders. “He loves you as you love him,”

“Being anything more than a temporary companion to Edmund is nothing more than a dream, my sweet Rose,” You said with a watery smile. “You’ve always had quite the imagination, seeing change where change cannot be,” You let your hand travel the length of her silky hair before pulling away from her as you went to fetch her evening gown. It was nearly dinner.

“You’ve always denied the obvious,smothering any sign of hope there might be,” She mumbled but said no more as she followed your lead, letting you dress her before you escorted her to the dining room.

You knew Rose was right. The night you and Edmund had danced as equals a seed of hope had been planted in your chest, growing strong with every meeting after. Even months after you were yearning for Edmund to be your equal, to be yours, permanently.

You were a maid with many duties but Rose gave you the freedom to wander as you pleased, to familiarize yourself with Cair Paravel and the peninsula you resided on. By chance you had decided to explore the library, despite only having the most basic education in reading and writing. Edmund was reclining in a window sill, eyes raking over the page but going straight to you as his happy place was intruded upon.

“Y/N, odd seeing you here,” He commented as he went back to his book.

“Apologies for interrupting you, your highness. I will come back later,” You announced but Edmund’s voice glued you to the spot.

“You know I hate it when you call me that. Now don’t be stubborn, come sit down,”

You nodded and your legs carried you towards him. You prayed he couldn’t see how they shook. “Yes, your high- Sorry. Edmund,” You tried again.

“Pretend I’ve known you as long as Rose has, we are friends,” He instructed.

“But you know not a single thing about me,” You let your lips twitch up into a smug grin as you took your spot across from him, his legs shifting to make room for you. You looked to him and found the sun spilling in through the window lit up his eyes marvelously.

“Then teach me,” Edmund shrugged, but he mimicked your smile, a corner of is blush pink lips tugged up in amusement.

“What is it you wish to know?”

With a wicked grin Edmund simply said, “Everything.”

Those had been simpler times. Yet, you could only keep your head in the clouds for so long before a cold north wind blew the fantasy away, bringing you back to your stark reality. Unfortunately, you were clear minded. Rose, however, had a vice-like grip on her fantasies. Fantasies you still shared but couldn’t indulge.

You stood behind her in silence as the royalty ate their meal, discussing airy, unimportant things. It was an era of peace, after all. Yet it seemed that peace needed maintenance and Edmund was the pawn in this tricky game. Peter had gotten so lucky, loving the woman he had been convinced to marry. He was blinded by that love, not realizing that it was far from likely his brother would have the same experience.

Edmund’s eyes were glued to yours as his fiancee, Cassiopeia, chattered on about nonsense, batting her eyelashes even as it went unnoticed. He raised an eyebrow. Are you alright? He seemed to ask.

You rolled your eyes. Doing as well as you are. You tried to express back to him. Edmund smiled a little at your sassy non-reply and you smiled simply because he looked beautiful.

“I seem to be feeling under the weather, if you’d excuse me,” He suddenly said, sparing a short glance to Cassiopeia, who looked as if she had been told he was had a week to live, and then to Peter who had a far more severe expression. The older king turned his gaze on you. You were ruining this evening.

Silently Rose gripped her husband’s hand, fixing him with her own withering gaze as they had a silent conversation. Susan distracted the visiting princess as Lucy looked to you, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

“Would you go check on him?” She asked sweetly, as if she wasn’t playing at something. No wonder and her and Rose got along so swimmingly. Menaces those Pevensies were. You wouldn’t have them any other way. With a barely concealed smile you excused yourself.

The second you were out of the dining room, two strong arms were encircling you as a familiar scent took over your senses. “You could have tried to look less miserable,” You teased softly as you tangled your fingers in the Just King’s hair.

“I could say the same for you,” He whispered against the junction of your neck and shoulder. “If looks could kill, she’d be long dead,”

You tensed up. You knew she was a kind girl, or she meant well at least, but you couldn’t bring yourself to like her. She was the thing that stood between you and Edmund. “I-I’m sorry,”

Edmund sighed, pulling away so he could grip your chin lightly in between his thumb and index finger. “You don’t need to apologize, especially not to me, okay?” You relented, grabbing his wrist so you could press your lips against his fingertips.

“It’s not fair,” Edmund growled, frustration clear on his face as you held his fingers against your lips. “And don’t say we could have avoided this,” He seethed as you opened your mouth.

Edmund was holding your hand, face set in a grim expression as he tried to find the words but nothing sounded right. None of this was right!

“We can’t be together anymore, can we? That’s what you're here to say... That we are over,” You had tried to sound unbothered but your voice caught as your stomach churned.

“You have the uncanny ability of reading my mind,” Edmund mused, sighing deeply as he squeezed your hand. “I wish I could say you were wrong,” Even now, with the truth dangling in the air between you, he couldn’t look you in the eyes.

“A-are you- I mean to say-” You stumbled over your words, not being sure you wanted an answer to the question that was racing around in your mind.

Edmund nodded. “Princess Cassiopeia, from Anvard,” His voice was thick with emotion as he finally turned to you. “I don’t want her Y/N, you must know that,”

You bit your lip, focusing on the way that hurt instead of the way it hurt as Edmund chewed your heart up and spit it out. “It’s okay,” You reassured even if nothing about this felt okay. “I always knew this would happen, we both had our head in the clouds. It’s time we come back down to earth,”

“Y/N-” Edmund began as your voice turned chilled. You were freezing out any feelings you might be having to save face but Edmund wanted you to be vulnerable with him, hurt with him. He wanted to know you were having just a hard time letting go as he was.

You stood abruptly, brushing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you around, your highness,”

“I’d be lying to you then,” You laughed humorlessly as Edmund took hold of your hand, pulling you with him as the servants started to leave the dining room. Soon his siblings and fiancee would be leaving and they couldn’t find you like this. Only Rose knew you two had decided to stay together, despite Edmund’s impending marriage. The both of you had hardly lasted a full seven days before crawling back to one another.

“You can’t avoid love, Y/N,” Edmund commented icily as he opened his bedchambers, tugging you with him as he secured the door behind him.

“I-I know,” You sighed, rubbing at your temples. “And I don’t want to. I would rather love you and lose you than still be pining away never having known what it was like to be cared for in such an overwhelming way by such a perfect man,”

“You aren’t losing me,” Edmund promised as you both sat heavily on his bed, your head falling to his shoulder. The playfulness from earlier had vanished, the weight of your future crushing the both of you.

“Don’t pretend that you could ever betray your future wife.” You spat out, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. “You’re a man of your word Edmund, and once those vows are spoken, there is no power in the universe, even love, that could cause you to be disloyal,”

“I’d do it, for you,” He declared.

“I would only ever be known as the shame of the kingdom, the Just King’s mistress,” You whimpered as tears prickled at your eyes. “I can’t tarnish our names in such a way,”

“Then what are we going to do?” Edmund cried out, desperate for everything to be simple as it was before with stolen kisses in the library and flirting subtly as Rose asked you to take a meal to him while he worked alongside his sisters and brother.

“Make a new start, a new future” You said, trying to force anything that resembled conviction into your voice, “without each other,”

“I don’t want that,” Edmund argued. “I love you,”

“I’m just a maid,”

“You’re far more than that, always have been since the day you knocked me off my feet,” Edmund pressed his lips to yours desperately as the steel walls started to erect themselves around your heart, casting a shadow over your normally expressive eyes. You were frozen for only a second before you melted into his familiar touch. With a shaky breath, Edmund parted from you, his forehead pressed to yours tenderly.

“If you can look me in the eye and say you don’t love me, I will let you go,”

You immediately shook your head, the ultimatum weighing heavily on your heart. “Please, Edmund-”

“No, Y/N.” Edmund said, pleading with you to understand. “The day you don’t love me anymore is the only day I am willing to let you go,”

“You’re to be married!” You said, as if this had never occurred to him before.

“One day, yes, but not to Cassiopeia.” Edmund had you frozen to the spot, his warm eyes hiding a storm. “You will be my wife, the only future that I will have,”

“You can’t promise me that,” You croaked, eyes burning as your defenses crumbled, tears spilling over the dam of your eyelids and streaming down your cheeks.

“I can, marry me,” Edmund not so much asked as he demanded and you would have laughed at the absurdity of it all if it didnt hurt so much.

“You are-”

“Just say yes,” Edmund begged, pulling you onto his lap as his hands found your cheeks, cupping them so he could direct your gaze to his.

“I can’t,”

“You can,” Edmund insisted. “We’ll leave tonight, find a chapel in one of the towns nearby. I can’t marry Cassiopeia if I am promised to another,”

“Peter will be furious,” Your arguments were weakening.

“He doesn’t know what it’s like to be told you can’t be with the person he loves most. Imagine the lengths he’d go to to be with Rose if someone told him it wasn’t possible to have her,” Edmund made a point. “Peter will get over it. Rose is our number one fan, Susan and Lucy adore you,”

“You are an absolute mad man Edmund Pevensie,”

“Then be my mad woman, be my Y/N Pevensie,”

Your defenses had been completely demolished, reduced to nothing but ash as the swelling of your heart blasted the last of your fears away. You surged forward, kissing Edmund with a bruising force.

“How could I ever say no to you?” You gushed.

“You do it quite a lot actuall-”

“Edmund,” You scolded lightly.

His gorgeous laughter resonated through the air. “You are going to make a perfect wife,”

“And you a perfect husband, now get me to that chapel,” You encouraged, wanting to make the right decision before your fear won out.

“You won’t regret this,” Edmund grinned, his sunshine breaking through your gray clouds.

“I could never,” You reassured as you intertwined your fingers with his.

No matter what the future brought, you would have Edmund beside you from now until the end of your days, as your husband and as your equal.

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #au #au prompt #anon #anon ask #request #ask #this took AGES I am so sorry anon

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 50 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don’t post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so…yeah.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

The roar of the Bifrost resounded across Jotunheim, declaring to the realm that the Allfather had arrived. Loki and Ella stood in the aforementioned agreed place of landing for the Aesir royal family with a few others with them. On seeing her parents, Ella smiled brightly, though her nervousness at revealing to them that she was carrying a child still played slightly on her. She had decided to inform them of their impending grandchild later in the palace, but for now, she hid it under a heavy cloak. When her parents and brother emerged from the startling light, some of their guards and even two of the Warrior’s Three with them, Loki and Ella stepped forward.

Both Odin and Frigga seemed to immediately look at their daughter more than anything else, Frigga more so than her husband. Though the pair had been conversing through their seidr, it was the first time mother and daughter had been physically in one another’s company since the wedding and especially since she had been ill. Loki and Ella bowed as was expected to the Allfather and Allmother, who in turn both lowered their heads slightly in recognition of the gesture. Thor, who had stood back slightly came forward to deal with the formalities of the situation, though part of him thought it to be entirely unnecessary. Technically speaking, those arriving for the coronation were not doing so yet, so their being there was not on an official basis, more so on being there to assist their daughter and her husband, should they be required to assist so the bowing and such, the stoic interactions were something he wished did not occur. He had fought alongside the Jotnar, bled and lost brethren with them, that made the pageantry unnecessary in his eyes. He wanted to speak with the allies he had made again.

“Allfather,” Loki bowed to Odin before turning to Frigga and doing the same. “Allmother, thank you for joining us for this momentous occasion.”

“It is a great day for Jotunheim.” Odin declared though he looked warily at his daughter to see if she had been better treated since his last seeing her. Frigga had informed him that Ella looked healthy and happy when they spoke together but he did not fully believe it. She had put on a facade in the time up to her health scare, she could very easily do so again. But seeing her smile brightly, if not slightly apprehensively at them, there was no denying that she was indeed healthy again. If anything, he noted she seemed a little weightier than before, though he would never state such aloud, he always maintained she could do with a little more weight, especially after she got sick as a child. He wanted to be less formal, to speak with her but this was not the time. “It seems like life is developing well since the Casket’s return, a great success.”

Loki, Ella and many others gathered on the Jotnar side gritted their teeth with regards his comments on the Casket, all thinking the same with regards to him taking it in the first place.” “Jotunheim has never seen prosperity like it. The food is plenty, the many are healthy and the population is about to see an explosion like never before,” Ella beamed. “And with Loki’s rule, it will be even better.” The confident look she gave him and his smile in return startled the Aesir royals to the point of silence. In her talks with her mother, Ella rarely spoke on Loki in any manner, much less one to suggest to her mother that she thought so well of Loki.

Odin was the first to find his voice again and cleared his throat which in turn, broke the peculiar feeling in the group gathered. “Good, the realm deserves a fresh start.”

With the formalities completed, everyone headed to the palace. The Jotnar they met on route glanced at the Aesir party with intrigue yet not overly concerned. The Aesir mate to their soon-to-be king had caused many who had been wary before to trust the Aesir slightly more and with Loki’s coronation, they knew this was a necessary evil to host the Allfather once more.

When they made it to the palace, Ella led them to their rooms with Loki by her side. As soon as all but her brother, his friends and her parents were gone, she walked over to her father and placed her hand beneath his own on Gungnir. “If I may be so bold, I need to borrow this for five minutes.”

Odin frowned at his daughter. He had not even spoken directly to her since their arrival and she had not explained why she would require one of the most powerful weapons in all of the realms but the pleading yet confident look on her face told him that she felt whatever she planned required it greatly enough to ask. With a slight nod, he relinquished his grip on it and watched as she rushed off, Loki looking at her with confusion on his face as she left. When the young Jotnar noticed the Aesir royals looking at him in bewilderment, all he could do was try to express that he too was oblivious to what his mate was doing.

Three minutes later, Býleistr walked past them looking terrified. A moment later Helbindi and Greta walked into the hall, both seeing the confused royals gathered in the hallway, both looking equal parts in awe and somewhat scared.

“What did she do?” Loki half winced, not sure what they were going to say.

Helbindi grinned. “Did you ask her about the space issue?” Loki nodded. “Well, it is dealt with.”

“What?” Loki cocked his head.

“She’s after dealing with our space issue,” Helbindi repeated.

“How?” “No idea. She used some golden stick and her seidr to do it.”

“That’s not a stick, that is Gungnir,” Odin growled, displeased that anyone would disrespect his powerful weapon in such a manner.

“Gung...I thought only the Allfather could use that?” Helbindi looked to Loki in confusion.

“Why do you seem surprised?” Loki chuckled. “Ella does as she sees fit, even powerful magical weapons know better than to argue with her.” He threw his eyes up playfully as he said so.

Barely a moment later, Ella walked through the hall once more, looking proud of herself, Gungnir in her hand. When she got to her father, she smirked and handed him back the staff. “Thank you.”

“That suits you far too well,” Odin commented to his daughter as he took back Gungnir. He used his seidr to read the magic that the staff had recently worked with to see what she had done. When he sensed it, he studied his daughter’s face, startled by the smirk on it. “How?” “You limit your abilities too much, Father, by your choice not to expand them.” She walked over to Loki who looked curiously at her. “The space issue is rectified.” “So ‘Bind said but how?”

“I may have tripled the palace.” “I’m sorry, you what?” Loki could not comprehend what she was saying.

“I used Gungnir to magnify my seidr and simply made the palace bigger. We needed more rooms, I made it that the living areas of the palace are now copied a few extra times so we can house all those who wish to be here. I also used it to make the areas habitable to those arriving. The last thing we need is frozen Light Elves.”

Loki could not think of an answer worthy of the statement. When he mentioned his concerns to Ella, she smiled and promised to rectify it. When he asked her how she planned to do so, she merely smiled and repeated that she would do so and not worry about it any more. Seeing her do so in less than the time it took to get to the throne room, he found himself wondering how he could ever have thought her to be dim-witted when he first met her. “Always finding solutions.” He smiled kindly at her.

“What would you do without me?” She smiled before looking over at her parents and brother who clearly were uncertain as to what to say with regards to their daughter’s clearly altered situation. Thor knew that Loki had developed from the arrogant being that he had seen for the wedding, even speaking to him when he came for their assistance but seeing now that it seemed to even have grown more intrigued him slightly, especially because Ella seemed different. She seemed a lot more open, something he had not been used to on Asgard. To him, she was always an annoying prankster at worst or disinterested in him and his friends at best. She never seemed to do anything but stand and listen to court or speak almost stoically with friends. Now, she seemed so much more outgoing and confident.

“I think we best get settled.” Frigga turned to Odin, who clearly was weary, though no one would admit to such out loud, especially Odin himself.

“Yes, when you do so, Loki and I must speak more with you,” Ella stated. Her parents stared at her worriedly. “Yes, we are nulling the marriage and I am taking the veil.” Each word dripped with adequate sarcasm befitting her deadpan tone and facial expression. “Surprise.”

“I thought you had matured, I was getting worried.” Thor scoffed.

“And be boring? Perish the thought.” Ella shuddered. “Go get settled. We will ensure everything is as it needs to be here and then we will speak more.” She bowed slightly. “Until then, I am getting something to eat.” With that, she walked off.

Helbindi scoffed slightly before encouraging Greta to back to their rooms to rest. Her heat had settled and she was currently waiting to see if she had become pregnant anxiously while also assisting with the coronation with the other female mates. Helbindi was forced to deal with other matters meaning he only say her for small parts of the day but was adamant that she rest adequately.

Loki looked after his mate for a moment before looking at her bemused parents. “I best alert my father than all are here.” “Where is Laufey?” Odin asked.

“Resting, I fear. His health continues to waiver so he must rest more often, hence this unprecedented event.” He bowed slightly. “Until later, please, make yourselves comfortable.” With that, he left to follow do as he said and inform his father.

“Do we even want to know?” Odin asked his wife. “What did she say to you?” “Nothing worthy of speaking with us like she is implying she needs to, perhaps it is to do with the coronation, she seems slightly concerned with regards to that,” Frigga shrugged. “Nonetheless, it would be wise for us to attempt to prepare the rooms, those ice-beds do nothing for your back.”

“You hardly doubt it took Ella that long to merely duplicate a few rooms? She has readied ours to our liking also.” Odin informed her. “She said she did it in the other wings but she did it for us also.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Do you think you are the only one she can communicate silently with? Why do you think we both held Gungnir for a moment?” His chest puffed out proudly. “It was from us both that she became one of the most powerful seidr wielder in the realms, not simply one.” He looked at the staff in his grasp. “Had she have been a son, she would have been terrifying.” Thor was about to say something when he saw his father inhaled deeply in a manner that always meant he was about to say more. “A warrior for an heir and a seidr-wielding assassin as his highest general, it would have been terrifying.” “The Norns knew it would have been too much,” Frigga commented. “She seemed to have little issue with Gungnir.”

Odin looked at his staff, something he could never remember fighting without since the day his father Bor died and it was placed in his hands as his successor. “Yes, so it would seem.” His voice was distant as he did so, telling Frigga that he was thinking of something in his own head.

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #Pride and Prejudice #Chapter 50 #wolfpawn

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stylishanachronism · 4 years

Note

*Wakes up from my endless slumber of like two hours* 👀

"Dearheart! There you are, what on earth have you been up to down here, of all places?"

The elven woman who's just taken his elbow is very pretty, all dark hair and bright eyes and the sort of smile that makes him want to crawl into a hole and die before Iselmyr can do anything terrible, her tone fond and close, like he's her very best friend in all the world, but he's never seen her before in his life. She drops some coin on the counter, enough to pay for the drink he hasn't finished, turns that smile on the barman, who seems a little shocked at her presence, she clearly knows who this is, and drags him off his stool before he can get so much as a syllable out.

"Nevermind, you'll never believe what Engferth's been up to, he's more trouble than you are sometimes, I swear to Woedica I don't know what I'm going to do with the pair of you."

She's got a very firm grip, Iselmyr laughing too hard in the back of his head to be of any help for once, as she whisks him out the door without so much as a by your leave.

"I mean, you keep getting yourself into wild straights, and then forgetting to write, honestly half the family's been sick with worry, and he, well, he went and proposed to Miss Elafa again, then told her it was Ma's idea, which it was, don't get me wrong, but she's made her conditions clear, and all he's going to do is annoy her into refusing him entirely, and I like her just fine but Grandmother'd have all our heads if I made a match like that, and you!"

They're headed up the hill, to the nicer part of town, outside what he can afford at the moment, and he'd really like to know what's going on but she hasn't let him get a word in edgewise and he doesn't think he could get away from her if he tried, and he desperately doesn't want to make more of a scene than he's part of already.

"Well, you've done much better, no matter what Ma thinks, and anyways I'm pretty sure she'd strangle you in half a minute, I could strangle you in half a minute, please stop gallivanting off in all directions, or at least let us know you're alright, the things we heard about your trip south, oh, I nearly had kittens, you didn’t really say yes, did you? Papa thinks you did, and you’d think he’d know, but you’re the sensible one, and he’s horrid, really, you hated him in school, I really don’t understand how he’d even think to ask!”

She shoots him a sidelong glance, even as she turns them into the sort of eccentrically ramshackle villa that means old money, the gate guard giving them a smile but otherwise staying focused on the road, like they’re allowed to be here without an invitation, so she must be part of the family, and drags him in through an elegant archway into the main compound like it’s nothing.

“I mean really, you’re the favorite, even if you did knock your head or something and agree, there’s no way anyone else would, you didn’t knock your head, did you? I was told you’d fallen straight through the floor, but you weren’t hurt, but Ma heard differently, and someone told Wolle that you’d straight shattered you leg, which obviously isn’t true, you really need to write and tell us you’re fine, darling, gods only know what made it back to everyone else.”

She doesn’t give him time to answer, just as she hasn’t since she dragged him out of the inn, rapping at the first solid door they’ve passed and letting them in without so much as a pause.

"You’ll never guess where I found him."

The woman sitting behind the desk lifts an eyebrow, but merely shakes her head.

"Go fetch your father, Aelere."

It’s oddly formal, given the woman who’d dragged him here clearly doesn’t feel the need to stand on ceremony with a complete stranger, much less her- employer? matriarch?, but she pushes him into a seat and takes herself off with a cheerful "Yes, Grandmother!"

Matriarch, then, whoever this family is.

She’s considering him as the door closes, something familiar about her posture, very straight and still, though she must be nearing 300 if she’s a day.

"What am I going to do with you, my dear?"

That’s a question he’d like answers to as well, he has no idea what’s going on. Given her own informality, he’s of the firm suspicion they’ve mistaken him for someone else.

"Well." She gathers the papers off the far corner of her desk, tapping them together and laying them out facing him. His name’s on all of them, more or less, though some of them appear to be addressed to or regarding Alys instead, and some of them merely refer to 'your grandson' in the abstract, and one of them is actually addressed to his mother for some reason, though how this woman got her hands on it is as much of a mystery as anything else. "You've caused quite the stir."

"I'm sorry?"

She waves his apology away, though he doesn't know what he's apologizing for either, and half turns to reach for something off behind her.

"I had understood it from your sister that you had no desire to be married?"

The only person who's been mistaken for his sister ever is Alys, and there's clearly something there, given what he's looking at, but how that particular misunderstanding made it here, across an actual ocean, and how this woman knows about it, he has no idea.

"Ah- Well. No, not really."

"Then what were you doing with Lord Beltin's boy?"

"I- The position was as a research assistant?"

"Mm. Well, that's one way of putting it, I suppose. The same with the Maitwyr girl?"

He doesn't remember any of the daughters of the house being involved with that particular trip, but he did sign up with them, it's not like he could afford to spend three months in the Living Lands on his own, and he got paid for it, so he nods.

"You really need to learn to read a contract, my dear. Your father will see to it, but in the meantime..." She turns back around, holding more paperwork, some of it awfully official looking, though he's utterly distracted with dread by the fact she knows his father, and well enough to refer to him so informally, too.

"Here. My condolences, but you've theoretically been widowed. Twice."

This is from the middle of ‘Memory is Fallible’, which is more of a collection of scenes than a proper thing (I’ve been working on it for at least three years, if that’s any measure of what it looks like), centered around the idea that A. Aloth was a lot more popular than he thought he was (which was confirmed canon in Deadfire, much to my delight), B. Telephone is a hell of a game to get away from once a group gets the wrong idea, and C. repurposing my own family lore gets really weird, really fast. It’s also built off a couple of things from my own first playthrough, in which I accidentally built a sprite that looked enough like Aloth’s I couldn’t tell them apart, and eventually resorted to putting one of them in Kana’s hat, except I also then couldn’t remember which one was wearing it, so it didn’t even help.

There’s a little more to this particular bit, bookending it, so context is that Aloth is back in Aedyr proper, on the wrong coast to see his mother, gearing up to go find another weird cult and end it as best he possibly can, and a bunch of people who knew Alys, because she lived in the area for a couple of years not that long ago, recognize him and go tell her family, who are local to this coast, that she’s rolled up and is hiding in a shitty inn for some reason, not realizing they’ve got the wrong kid. Her family, who took Alys’ joke that they were twins now and said ‘hey you know what’s a really good idea?’ and stole him from his dad via trickery and intimidation, puts two and two together, and having no idea he doesn’t know he’s been adopted, send Aelere, one of the cousins, and technically actually his oldest sister now, who again, has no idea he hasn’t gotten any of her letters, to go fetch him, because why should he waste money when the house is Right There, and also there’s the whole thing about how he got married and didn’t tell anyone and now he’s been widowed, whoops. So he thinks he’s been kidnapped and they think he’s being shifty about the weddings, and it really is all about to blow up.

send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

#thank you for memeing me!!#my writing #I had something feat. Waidwen for you but I couldn't find it so you get this instead #I wish I knew what I did with it because I feel like I was on to something there #but anyways mistaken relationships are my bread and butter #I have enough personal experience on both ends and in any permutation you like #to build them out of literally anything #if you think this is farfetched I am sorry to inform you this is almost word for word something that happened to my aunt #and I personally got an extra sibling in a similar manner #though of course she's not accidentally married to anybody (or at all. yet)#yanara126

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 53

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - Ella spends time catching up with old friends which goes well, until Loki hears something he doesn't want to hear.

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NOTES - I have this written since Friday but I was so ill yesterday, I never got to post it. I cannot put into words how grateful I am that people are commenting on this, it has meant that I have flown through writing more for it. The amount of comments I have received this week have really fed my inspiration to get my ass in gear and write. Thank you for them. The more I get, the more I love to write.

Loki felt himself fill with guilt. He could see now what Odin had meant when he demanded to see who Ella spoke with through her days when she had gotten ill. He had never seen her so animated with anyone as she was currently with the group of women he knew from the momentary displays she gave him in his mind to be her old ladies-in-waiting from Asgard. She laughed and smiled through every sentence said. Her attention was always on who was speaking though it seemed that she was the centre of the grouping throughout. Beside her, a slightly unsure looking Greta sat, though it was clear that her being introduced to the grouping by Ella meant that she was to be included in every manner and though there was clear uncertainty at first, she was indeed being accepted. Seeing Ella in this manner, he could see how darkness and loneliness consumed her when he, the only person she did interact with for those first few months because she had not known the formalities of introduction in Jotunheim, ignored her entirely bar the few moments in her company in which he tried to get her pregnant. He swallowed at that thought, grateful no child ever became of it. The idea that they could have created a child in such a manner shook him to his core. Looking at her now, fondly placing her hand to her stomach as she spoke, he knew this child would be healthy and happy, loved fully by both of his parents, created willingly which he now realised made it all the more special.

As Ella and the other women laughed joyfully, he wondered and partly feared what they were speaking about.

“So, they aren’t all too different?” Mya asked.

“No, entirely the same in most manners,” Ella informed her. “Eat, fight and brag for the most part. Those traits are not realm specific, are they, Greta?”

“Apparently not. Though, Helbindi is more eat than fight,” The Jotnar responded.

“Be grateful, Volstagg is both. He would eat for the realms and fights too,” Lena scoffed.

“Can you both even fit in the bed these days? Who even takes up more room?” Mya scoffed playfully, referring to Lena’s stomach which was protruding almost as much as Ella’s.

“Do not start,” Lena rubbed her forehead. “He does but I am getting worried as he does not seem to recall I am carrying his child and it is growing continuously.”

“For the record,” Ella leant towards Greta before indicating to Volstagg. “That is her mate.”

Greta eyed Volstagg for a moment before looking back at Lena. “I have to ask….how?”

The other women erupted in laughter. “It’s easy to see how Ella and you became friends,” Tiana, another laughed. “We all thought the same but none said it.” Greta looked worriedly at Ella, silently asking her if she had done something wrong. Ella simply smiled back. “We don’t get insulted, trust me. There’s nothing you could say here that we would be offended by.”

“Really?” Greta did not think that possible.

“Remember the day Kristoff tried to hurt my feelings?” Ella reminded her.

“You tore him apart,” Greta argued.

“He insulted my mate and our son, of course, I did. But his words never once bothered me in reference to me.” Ella smirked.

“And with regards to ‘how’,” Lena smiled. “I am just thankful he prefers me on top.”

“I don’t think that’s a preference as much as it is a necessity, you literally are half Light Elf, any other option would kill you.” Ella pointed out which led to more laughter. “I should also mention that this is not an attack on Volstagg’s weight, but the very important fact that Light Elves are far less dense than Aesir mass wise, so to us, Volstagg is a normal weight, something we could endure, to Lena, he is the equivalent of something almost as heavy as an Ice Beast,” Ella explained to Greta.

“‘Bind told me of the density situation, that is why I needed to ask how she came to be with child.” Greta eyed Volstagg for a moment. “It is odd to see such burly beings though.”

“Aesir are far differently shaped to Jotnar, it’s true,” Tiana commented. “But all men are the same when they are lying down.” She leant forward. “Though I am curious, those ridges of body markings, are they present on all areas or just some?”

“All.” Ella and Greta replied at the same time, knowing exactly what Tiana was asking.

“You usually need to pay extra for such features on toys.” Mya sighed. “Lucky you. No wonder you both smile so much.”

Greta did not know what the other woman was referencing and looked to Ella for some form of explanation. Rather than try and explain it to her, Ella used her seidr to give Greta a vision of what Mya was referencing. On seeing what it was the other woman had been speaking about, Greta’s eyes widened. “But that...we don’t have that.” “Mores the pity for you. Though you all have the ability to wield ice, don’t you?” Greta nodded. “Do you ever make instruments with those?”

Greta could not gather what Lena was asking for a moment before she realised and her face fell. “I never even thought of such a thing.”

“By the way, that book Helbindi has been all but begging you to harass me about?” Ella leant in close to Greta as she spoke. “Lena retrieved it for me. I will give it to you this evening. Read through it, any questions you have, one of us can answer. I am not as well versed as some women on most.”

“That’s because you decided to be a good girl and wait for a husband, sorry, mate.” Tiana corrected herself.

“We all know what you mean.” Ella dismissed, not bothered that her Vanir and Aesir friends were not using the Jotnar terms. She knew it was not out of malice.

“You were….” Greta looked somewhat startled, not certain of how to broach the subject with Ella.

“A maiden? Yes, I was.” Ella looked down at her stomach. “It’s safe to say that that is long gone.”

“Last to lose her virginity, first to get pregnant.” Lena joked.

“I am nothing if not proficient.” Ella laughed back.

“But you assisted in explaining certain things to me?”

“I know the theory for many a thing, I simply am not versed in the practical method.” Ella shrugged.

“Really?” Tiana looked over at Loki who was speaking with Arden and Býleistr on a matter across the room. “He doesn’t seem like he would be boring. He looks like he’d actually be up for some fun.”

“It’s not like he hasn’t learnt a few things over the years,” Greta commented before she realised she had spoken aloud. “Before you, obviously.” She clarified to Ella.

The other women looked between themselves awkwardly at those comments.

“Loki had a few experiences before me, this is not something I was unaware of,” Ella explained.

“It sounds like more than a few.” Mya pointed out.

“Fine, he was incredibly promiscuous but he has not been disloyal to the agreement we made not to take another so I don’t think about what came before me. As I stated to one previous female partner, I am grateful to them, they trained him up. I have yet to be left wanting, so I see the positives in it.” Ella smirked as she took a drink. “So he doesn’t kiss, considering he knows everything else a woman could want, I see it as a win for me.”

“Wait, no kissing?” Tiana looked appalled. “Really, you’re not lying, Ella, he doesn’t kiss, why?” “They don’t do it here,” Ella explained.

The other women looked at Greta who nodded. “We don’t. Well, ‘Bind and I do because we like it but others don’t.”

“Norns, that sounds so boring. I’d hate it. I won’t even lie. No, thank you.” Tiana shuddered. “I wouldn’t mind, but I had it on good authority you were good at that.”

“Really? How is Liuilf, Ti?” Mya shook her head. “Whatever happened to not taking your friend’s ex-lovers?”

“I didn’t even touch him, I swear but firstly, he was not Ella’s lover, she didn’t let him touch her, and secondly…” Tiana noticed someone else coming to join the conversation and silenced immediately.

Ella could tell from the manner her friend ceased speaking who was standing close by. Smiling, she turned to face her mate. “Is everything alright?” Loki stood close-by, his face as politely neutral as he could muster it to be. He had a suspicion that the females would speak in a manner that would be like as Ella had shown them to speak in the past. They were indeed the same females as she had shown him in her old memories but hearing one of them speak of Ella doing the act of kissing with the soldier hurt him in his gut and sent a searing heat through it that he loathed entirely. He knew the woman had said that Ella did not allow the soldier to touch her but it still felt odd to think of her do something like that with him. “I am incredibly sorry to intrude and I know I have yet to be properly introduced to you all, something I wish to rectify very soon but I fear I must ask to speak to my mate in private for a moment.”

“Of course, excuse me, Ladies. Do not scare Greta too much in my absence,” She warned playfully as she rose to her feet, stretching slightly as she did. She followed Loki out of the room and down a hallway she knew was rarely used. When he opened a door to a room that was all but barren of any form of furnishing, she wondered what needed to be so urgent. “I take it that this has nothing to do with the coronation?” Loki’s nostrils flared slightly. “I don’t think you even wanted me for something, did you?” His eyes darted to the side. “You simply reacted to the words you heard?” No response. “I have had to listen to you ridicule my virtue as well as multiple accounts of you as a sexual partner but one reference to me kissing someone causes you to react like this?”

Loki inhaled a shaky breath. He walked over to her and stood looking down at her apprehensively before leaning in. At first, Ella thought it was going to gently place his face against hers but then she noticed the way his lips moved and pulled back. “What are you doing?”

“Apparently you are somewhat proficient at it.”

“Do you want to kiss me because you genuinely wish to, or some other reason?” She studied his face. “You never wanted to do this before, why now? We literally were in bed together last night, having sex and you did not think to do it then, why now? Is it because of what Tiana said or is it because you genuinely wish to do it with me because if it is the former, no, I will not kiss you and please don’t lie to me, please.”

Loki could not lie to her so he pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” “I just came over to say hello but I reacted on hearing her say those things.” He admitted.

“At least you are honest.” Ella conceded. “I am not going to kiss you for that reason. It means more to me.”

Loki frowned. “But you never tried.” “With you? No. You made it clear on Vanaheim that it is repulsive to you. Since we did nothing we personally liked before that but instead merely took part in sex for solely procreational purposes, of course I would not attempt that.”

“But you did with him?” “I cared for ‘him’ at that time. That was a long time ago. As Tiana pointed out, I never allowed it further.”

Loki felt the other meaning behind those words, she had been honourable and never taken another, something he had not been. She also had been forced more than once to hear of his actions but she never showed any sign of being overly bothered by such. Part of him thought that were she to care for him, she would be more bothered by it as he was hearing about her actions in the past but she did not seem to be in any manner upset by it. “But I did.” “And I never say anything other than it was before me so I have no right to say anything.” “But if you were to say something?” “You do not wish to know.” Her face turned slightly angry at that. “Now, was there a particular reason you came over to us to begin with?” “I came to introduce myself. Those are your friends from Asgard so I thought it polite to say hello.”

For a moment, Ella thought him to be lying, but seeing his features to be honest, she smiled. “Thank you, for making that effort. They were my ladies, as I tried to explain at the beginning, it was never about them being my servants, just confidentes. I have missed them so much. Part of me wishes they did not come because it reminds me of how much I miss them.”

Loki swallowed. He had been forced to change some aspects of his life for the agreement, and the only aspects he did have to change had turned into something better than he could ever ask for. Ella, on the other hand, was left to create an entirely new life on Jotunheim, no friends, nothing and a mate that had neglected her, yet she still tried. He walked over to her again and looked at her, noting the apprehension in her face, he gave her an empathetic look. “I am so sorry you feel so and for my behaviour just now.” He leant down, only this time he did not try to force a kiss but placed their foreheads together as he tended to do. “I know you miss your friends but I hope you are happy here.”

“I am.” Her voice was quiet.

Loki sighed contently at her answer and the swiftness in which she answered.

#Pride and Prejudice #chapter 53 #loki fic #wolfpawn

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dahvangogh · 4 years

Text

and empty word are evil| Jason Todd

[ prologue | one | two | three | four ]

[ao3 link] [masterlist]

note: hello, there! I KNOW, I KNOW. I'm a day early but I finally got two new comments on this story: one on AO3 and another here in Tumblr, so I got excited and decided to upload it a bit earlier.This chapter sets in motion many things for this story. Also, despite perhaps not being as exciting or long as the others, it is key to the development of the whole thing. As usual, I apologize if there are any grammatical mistakes. I corrected it myself but I'm no English native.Please, could you leave a comment or kudos? It really helps a lot!

Much love xx

CHAPTER THREE

There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”

― Laurell K. Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss

“She hasn’t called me yet… why hasn’t she called me yet? This never happens to me!”

Lisa throws her hands to her head and messes the blonde tresses even more than they are, pacing back and forth in Grace’s open concept kitchen and living room, her posture completely straight.

“Oi, chill!” the raven-haired tries not to laugh, biting her bottom lip “People have jobs and lives, so it’s most likely she is busy!”

The blond turns to look at Grace, who is sitting comfortably on her big comfy sofa doodling in one of her many sketchpads, and crosses her arms under her chest.

“I also have a life, you dumbass. But not even a text? C'mon!”

Grace rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s been a week… perhaps you are getting sloppy in the flirting department?” She tries not to laugh at Lisa’s indignant face and quickly picks up a pillow seconds before the blonde starts hitting her. “Kidding! Just kidding!”

Her friend keeps hitting her, not as if to hurt her but in a playful manner.

“I will have you know that I’m the fucking best at flirting… and other things.”

Grace looks over the rim of her pillow and makes a face as if throwing up.

“Dis-gus-ting” the raven-haired accentuates each syllable, then raises a hand to stop her best friend from starting hitting her again. “No, but for real. Who cares? It’s her loss… you are amazing and the day you date someone, that idiot will be a lucky girl.”

Lisa moves her head to the side and her shoulders drop as if exhausted. Then, she bites her bottom lip while tapping her foot for a few seconds.

At last, she nods and sits next to her on the sofa. The blonde leans her head on her best friend’s shoulder. Grace smiles softly and leans her head on her friend’s crown.

“After hooking up, she told me to wait until her shift was over… then we went to eat tacos.” Lisa’s voice sounds soft and dreamy, not loud and humorous as usual; after a long week, finally telling the ink-haired girl what had happened that night. “We were there for three hours, talking and laughing, and we even closed the fucking place… And it wasn’t a simple hook-up on a nightclub, there was a connection there. I swear.”

The raven-haired smiles while imagining the scene.

“If she saw you eating tacos and didn’t leave your ass there immediately, she is clearly interested.”

Lisa raises her head a bit and looks up at her while Grace looks down, a mocking smile on her plump lips. They hold each other stares for a bit, now the raven-haired is biting her lower lip while the blonde presses her lips together.

Three…

Two…

One

They both burst out laughing, even both keep giggling after a few minutes pass and their laughter has died out.

“Shit, that's true.”

She nods, giggling about how a messy-eater her friend is and pictures it in her mind.

Grace picks the discarded sketchpad and pencil from beside her on the sofa, not the side where Lisa is sitting, and turns a page over.

She quickly draws Lisa’s face, starting with her high cheekbones tinted with hundred freckles and then her petite cute nose, following with her soft-looking jawline. In the drawing, her best friend's big blue eyes are filled with wonder, staring at something they –the viewer of said drawing or the drawer– can’t see, while her thin lips are curled in a lovely smile. Her blonde head, framed with soft long waves, is resting on her hands on the table and Grace adds a napkin holder near.

“Should I draw guacamole smeared all over your chin?” Lisa giggles at that, so the raven-haired quickly draws it. “Perhaps a bottle of Tears of Llorona No. 3 Extra Añejo Tequila besides you?”

“Nah… that thing is 233 bucks.”

Grace huffs, then asks out loud: “Who pays 233 bucks for a bottle of Tequila?”

Dad does, I saw him drink a glass of that thing many times while watching tv or reading.

“Your dad.”

Both laugh while Grace also shakes her head, her father’s expensive tastes never ceasing to amaze her.

“But not me, girl.” Her friend answers back, which makes both of them laugh again. “Desperados is more on my budget… Though sometimes I spend a bit more on a Jose Cuervo one if I feel like treating myself.”

Grace smiles sadly.

Two months after her kidnapping and before she went to Berlin, they both had graduated from their prestigious and expensive private high school. The blonde had decided it was time to come out to her parents and Grace had completely supported her, thinking that Adam and Mary would be open and accept her daughter.

She had been mistaken.

The Addington’s had completely lost it and kicked Lisa out of their home. Thankfully, Lisa’s aunt Marissa had welcomed her in her own home and called Grace to tell her what had gone down.

Three days later, Lisa had been notified that she had been written out of her parents’ will and she wouldn’t be able to get a single penny from the family’s fortune. Plus, to add salt to the wound, she should never call her parents or even step a foot on her old home.

The raven-haired remembers how heartbroken her best friend had been, crying loudly on one of the beds of her aunt’s many guest rooms, while Marissa explained what the family lawyer had informed her.

She hadn’t been sad about the money but her parents’ hatred and lack of love for her.

Despite all of that, Marissa had sat down at the rim of the bed and had helped Lisa sit down. When she had calmed down –Grace remembers running to the kitchen for a glass of water and some chocolate–, her aunt had announced that she wasn’t going anywhere. Marissa unofficially had adopted Lisa, using her own wealth to help and support her niece.

Yet Lisa didn’t like asking for much, too independent and still licking her own wounds.

“Next week, I will buy a few bottles of the expensive ones and we will drink them all while watching RuPaul Drag Race: All-Stars, how does that sound?”

The raven-haired hears her friend harsh breath as if holding her cries.

“Fucking amazing, Gracie.”

She smiles, understanding what her friend is truly saying underneath coarse language, and pats her on the hand.

Thanks.

[ – – – ]

It has been a few hours and they both have just finished eating Chinese Takeaway, sitting in the same position as before but with a big and fluffy warm blanket wrapped around them. Grace is drawing again while they both watch the new season of Peaky Blinders on the big living room TV.

Grace is drawing from memory one of her favorite paintings of Empress Sisi, with her beautiful half-braided hairstyle decorated with silver flowers, and lovely white wedding gown. Don’t mistake her, she prefers others over this painting of Sisi, but someway somehow she had memorized only this one.

So beautiful, poor heartbroken Sisi.

“I’m a proud lesbian, okay?” her friend says, her blonde head moving on Grace’s shoulder as if she speaks with her whole self and not only with her mouth. Grace stops her pencil moving. “But I totally understand why so many people want to be dicked down by Tommy Shelby.”

She laughs at that.

“Yeah, he is hot…”

Suddenly, Lisa raises her head from her friend’s shoulder and mimics her friend’s posture, sitting cross-legged and reclining her back against the sofa. Then, the blonde starts arranging the blanket better around her.

“But?” she asks, still busy arranging the big blanket.

“I don’t know... ” Grace sighs loudly and looks at her friend, shrugging her shoulders. “He is handsome, in an i-would-draw-him-time-and-time-again way, but I never thought, and excuse my vocabulary, oh I would totally such his dick.”

Lisa now leans her head back, now looking at her best friend with a sad smile, the TV series completely forgotten or unimportant to them.

“How long has it been since you dated someone?” her voice sounds rueful, though the blonde knows the answer already. “Or kissed someone?”

Grace shakes her head, almost embarrassed about what she is about to confess, and even feels herself blush.

Here we go.

“Since I was eighteen.” the raven-haired sighs, then rubs her hands together, forgetting her drawing for the moment. “I can’t still stand someone touching me that way… It’s hard for me to trust any men. I mean, when you start a relationship you expect to have sex or at least close skin to skin proximity… ”

The last words make Lisa laugh loudly.

“Why do you say it so… formal and weird?”

“Because it’s true!” Grace feels her smile completely gone, her feelings and worries pouring out of her mouth without a stop.“People expect to be able to touch, hug, kiss or do sexual things when in a relationship with someone. But I can’t… I couldn’t possibly stand it. I want to, but I can’t!”

Lisa instantly hugs her tightly, caressing the arm her hand rests on.

“Well, that’s okay. Your mental health is above any fucking relationship.” her friend’s voice is soft and kind, still hugging her tightly. “One day, you might meet someone who will understand and maybe you might try.”

Grace sighs, though weirdly enough something in her stomach starts moving.

I hope it's a stomachache... better to have diarrhea than a relationship.

“Or maybe, you might meet an amazing hot dude with a big dick and only want to kiss him until you die of lack of oxygen… ”

That last sentence makes her laugh loudly, Lisa quickly joining her.

“Doubt it, but hey… if it happens, it’s not a bad way of dying.”

Both laugh again.

“Now, seriously. Have you talked to anyone about it?” her friend looks at her, worry all over her freckled face. “I mean a psychologist. Or perhaps participated in a PTSD group therapy or rape survivors group therapy? It might help, you know... ”

She can’t help but whimper when hearing that word.

“No.” Grace closes her eyes and leans back against her sofa. Despite being best friends, she didn’t like talking about what had happened those three days, though she did explain a bit so her friends, family and police would understand. “My dad made me see a psychiatrist for a few years in Berlin, it was one of his many conditions so I could stay there. To give him peace of mind, you know?”

The raven-haired snuggles into her best friend’s side, searching for warmth and acceptance, then continues explaining.

“I still get in touch with her once or twice every few months.”

Dr. Louise Bell had been like an angel sent from Heaven. She had been kind and patient with her, explaining how the impact of that incident goes far beyond any physical injuries, supporting her and never judging her. Also, the psychologist had been right.

Grace had spent a month in the hospital because of her physical injuries but to this day, she was still recovering from the internal ones.

The world will never feel like a completely safe place ever again.

Nor will she trust others as much as she did before.

Neither does she stop self-degrading herself or questioning her judgment from time to time.

She still has nightmares, a few flashbacks and unpleasant memories coming back to her from time to time. Nevertheless, time helps to heal.

“You are not dirty, Grace. Neither are you damaged goods or unworthy of love.” she always replays Louise’s words in her mind when she is feeling bad about herself or in one of her depressive episodes.

She has improved a lot in many aspects. Grace doesn’t shower three times a day anymore, nor does she start shaking when seeing a man and she has been able to go to a park again.

Not Central Park, though. Not yet.

The raven-haired has gained much confidence and self-love through her friends, Louise’s help and her powers –the last thing helping a lot.

But relationships and intimacy are yet impossible for her.

She had tried but it had gone wrong so soon.

“I did try… I went on a couple of dates with this guy in Berlin and…” She sighs, the memories fuzzy in her mind because of how scared and anxious she had been back then. “All was going well until we kissed but… he touched my waist and I flipped out.”

He had gone flying, but Lisa didn't need to know about that.

Lisa, always kind to her, hugs her closer to herself; letting Grace confide and vent if she needs to.

“Dr. Bell told me to talk about it, to challenge myself from time to time, to reconnect with my body and feelings while not avoiding or numbing them,” Grace explains, thinking back about all she learned in her sessions with Louise. “You know I also took some self-defense lessons, learned yoga and even did massage therapy to not be so uncomfortable with being touched.”

And became a night vigilante of some sort.

“I can stand people touching me but... ” she rubs her hands together, taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly. “A relationship means trusting someone and having intimacy… I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

“And that’s okay, Grace.”

“Yeah, I know. Dr. Bell always reminds me that everyone deals with trauma in their own way. So even if it has been six years, I can take all the time I need.”

Lisa pats the arm her arm is draped on.

“Please, don’t think I’m pressuring you into going around hooking up or dating random people… I just worry about you sometimes.”

Grace looks up at her friend and gives her a soft smile, nodding. Then, she rests her head on her shoulder, looking at the TV.

“He really looks hot while smoking though.”

She is talking about Tommy Shelby, who is currently smoking a cigarette in front of a nun, looking like a dark prince.

“Fuck, he really does.”

[ – – – ]

Grace is an early bird, she had always been one and probably will always be. The raven-haired likes sitting on her balcony, the views of her skyscraper apartment always being better than any morning News program, with a cup of coffee or even a smoothie.

The building, all constructed with glass and sustainable materials, has forty floors and her apartment is in the thirty-nine. Each floor is divided into two apartments, her thirty-nine neighbor is a nice woman recently divorced who works in an expensive and reputed law firm.

The raven-haired doesn’t usually interact much with her neighbors, though she knows that the five low floors are used for work purposes and that her neighbor from the forty bought his whole floor to make his apartment bigger because he is an eccentric millionaire who doesn’t like sharing that much.

Also, he sometimes likes to use the stairs instead of the elevator.

Imagine using the stairs in a skyscraper of forty floors and with your apartment being in the last? Can’t relate at all.

She looks around her balcony, which is quite bigger than a standard one, and smiles proudly at her good taste in furniture. The raven-haired selected white and black furniture for this place, plus added many plants. A low garden glass table is in the center, a big white sofa placed against her big glass windows and looking directly towards the table and subsequent views, a big white armchair on the left of the table looking at the low table and all big beautiful pot plants through the floor of the whole railing, surrounding it.

“Grace, do you prefer having breakfast here or we go and hit Pauli’s Diner for a quick meal?”

Her blonde friend asks from the kitchen. The big balcony is connected to the living room, which is open-concept with the kitchen, so her voice sounds quite close to her. Grace stands up, places her coffee on the glass table, and folds her fluffy grey blanket on the white armchair.

She picks her cup and walks inside, seeing Lisa in the kitchen preparing more coffee, her stereo on in the WXYZ Radio channel.

“Good morning, Gothamites! It’s me, Alan Scott and currently, it is seven AM of this fine Saturday morning. If you have been paying attention to social media or the News, you probably already know that last night things went crazy in our dear city. But to those who don’t know, last night Poison Ivy was being personally delivered to Arkham Asylum by GCPD until things went BOOM!”

Both Lisa and her look at the stereo with interest, confusion across the blonde’s pale face while the raven-haired waits for confirmation of Harley’s plan succeeding.

“Fuck, what happened now?” her friend mutters.

“I don’t know” she says a white lie, after all she truly doesn’t know what really happened.

“Literally, things went BOOM. The crazy bird Harley Quinn blew up many of GCPD car patrols and the SWAT van where Ivy was being transported allowing the eco-terrorist to escape. Five policemen died on the spot and other seven are in critical condition. Unfortunately, two passed away on their way to Gotham City General Hospital. Despite Batman and Robin trying to help, as of now Harley and Ivy are missing. Commissioner Gordon and Mayor Sebastian Hady’s joint press appearance is scheduled at 10 am today and we will get further information. Now, Molly. What do you think about this horrible incident?”

“God, the Hospital and the clinic are probably bustling.” Lisa’s hands go to her head as if going insane just thinking about it. Then, she turns towards her best friend. “Yesterday and today are my free days, should I call my boss and offer my help?”

Grace is completely in shock.

She had specifically asked Harley to not kill any policeman. The raven-haired had done so when they first talked about the plan in the nightclub VIP room, then twice at their “sleepover” and another time after delivering the explosives.

Harley had promised her she wouldn’t.

That damned harlequin...

“Grace?” her friend calls her, looking up with concern towards the kitchen ceiling where the lights are flashing on and off nonstop. “Grace?!”

I’m going to fucking kill that lying harlequin and make myself a carpet with her hyenas.

The lightbulbs in the ceiling explode, Lisa lets out a very high scream and protects her head with her hands while bending over a bit.

You are a dead man walking, Harley Quinn.

#Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x oc #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #my writing #aewae ff

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aquariusrunes · 5 years

Text

The Superfriends AU (part 2)

Marinette slowly zipped the black bag, smiling at the garment inside as it disappeared. That was the last of them. Fifteen. She had created fifteen new looks, some were recycled pieces or materials, but all the outfits were brand new. She’d only be with Edna for eleven days, but she knew outfit changes were going to be a must, she also had to factor in the formal events she’d be taken too.

She placed the garment bag on the silver rack that was against her wall. Now that her outfits were done, it was time to finish packing the rest of her luggage. She’d already filled the small pink trunk which housed her shoes, accessories, and makeup. Now she just needed toiletries and electronics. She began mentally checking things off her list as she filled her backpack.

It had been awhile since she last saw Edna in person.

Last time was when Edna unexpectedly dropped by the bakery about two summers ago, her first summer as Ladybug. She remembered nervously squirming as her everyday school outfit was criticized for not being powerful enough for Marinette.

She also remembered nearly having a heart attack when Edna shooed her parents out of the room and sat down, crossing her fingers in the way she does, then saying very calmly in a low and threatening voice, “now darling, let’s talk about that suit.”

She still wasn’t sure why she ever thought she could keep her secret from her family, considering about a month later she was rushed to Gotham for an impromptu Cousin Hang Sesh and promptly pressured into giving up the goat. At least her family had a good concept of keeping a hero’s identity secret. The Wayne’s practically taught Marinette the hero code, as well as trained her in a lot of skills she was finding more and more useful as Ladybug. Still waiting for the day where she lucky charms a gun though, then it’ll be Jason’s time to shine.

She hadn’t seen them since that summer either, at least not in person. But it was pretty normal for her to go long stretches of time without seeing her extended family. Especially those on her father’s side, they were all rich and constantly busy. Which is why she was so excited when Edna asked her to come to Steel City and help her with her latest collection. Of course Marinette initially turned her down, explaining that she couldn’t just leave Paris for a week and a half. But Edna pushed her to discuss it with the Guardian and Marinette was quite surprised when he pushed her to go.

Fu had said that it was important not to let her superhero life destroy her civilian one, and that this sounded like an excellent opportunity for her future. He then assured her that Chat Noir, and perhaps if needed, another hero, could handle things without her for a little while. Even Chat seemed excited for her.

Marinette paused in her packing to look at the Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls sitting side by side on her desk. She and her partner had come a long way from when Ivan was first akumatized. There wasn’t a person in the world she was more in sync with, and she doubted there ever would be. They had a deal now, once Hawkmoth was gone and they return their miraculouses, they would reveal themselves. It had been her idea, and he had been over the moon when she suggested it. She just hated the idea of losing him forever, he was after all, her best friend.

She quickly picked up the blonde doll and placed him in her backpack before zipping it up and slinging it over her shoulders. She did one last sweep of her room, making sure she didn’t forget anything before finally moving to the cork board above her desk. Her pictures of Adrien long since gone, her wall space was needed for other things now.

The cork board had three lines drawn down it, Marinette’s name written on the right side and Lila’s on the left. The middle of the board was labeled Neutral. Push pins with her classmates’ faces on them were stuck all over the board. A lot had changed in her class since the Liar first showed up. Now it was a full on war.

Everyone knew you were either on Marinette’s side or Lila’s. Chloé and Adrien were the only ones in the neutral zone, as Adrien refused to get involved and Chloé simple could care less. Marinette still had trouble disproving whatever Lila said, but now and again she’d catch her, and some of her classmates had just wisened up, like Max.

Max was under Marinette’s name, as was Alix and Kim. Nathaniel was there too, and with him of course came his boyfriend Marc, even if the boy wasn’t in their class. Kagami and Luka were also on her side even though they weren’t in Ms Bustier’s class either. Ivan was also on Marinette’s side, despite Mylène being on Lila’s. The two girls were the only thing the couple fought over or could never agree on. But she was very happy when Ivan apologized to her and told her that he believed in her.

Rose, Jukela, Sabrina, and Alya were also on Lila’s side. Though she thought Jukela was close to converting. It used to bother her that Alya always took Lila’s side, but over the past few months Marinette had become desensitized to it. Though it did take her forever to stop thinking of her as her best friend, demoting her to friend, and then just an acquaintance. Every now and again a spark of hope would fill her chest when the glasses wearing girl showed concern for her, but it was typically smothered as quickly as it appeared.

With a sigh Marinette plucked Nino from her side of the board and pinned him back on Lila’s. Nino and she had been friends for a very long time, and it hurt like hell when he chose Lila over her, it hurt more than some Akuma attacks did. But then one night he showed up at the bakery and asked her if they could talk. And Nino explained.

He told her that it took him awhile, but eventually, after doing some fact checking he realized Lila was lying, about a lot. He’d tried explaining to Alya but she just got upset with him for ragging on her friend, so he dropped it. He didn’t like the way Lila hung all over Adrien, or how she badmouthed a lot of people, not just Marinette. But he loved Alya, a lot. And he was quite sure that eventually he could get her to come to her senses, though he wasn’t sure if Marinette would still want to be her friend then, and when the day came, he wouldn’t push it. And furthermore, Lila told Alya a lot, and Alya usually repeated it to him. He knew things that Marinette didn’t, sometimes he even knew about rumors or frame jobs before they happened. Nino asked her if she would forgive him, and in exchange, he’d stay on Lila’s side. He’d be Marinette’s mole.

She hated seeing Nino on Lila’s side of the board, she hated not being able to hang out with him like she used to. But his information was always good, and her side was making a lot of progress when it came to getting people outside of the class to turn on Lila. So she let it continue.

“Marinette! The car is here!” her mother’s voice came from downstairs.

She quickly doubled checked that she had all her legal documents in her red folder before clutching it to her chest and turning to face Tikki. “Ready for America?” She asked.

The small kawami giggled. “Yes! I can’t wait to see how it’s changed.” It was still odd for her to think about the small god being anywhere besides Paris, but Tikki had assured her that she’d had wielders all over the world. Marinette waited for the creature to settle herself into her backpack before she went downstairs to greet one of Edna’s men.

…

By the time Marinette boarded Edna’s private jet her lugadged was already a board and secure. She eyed the black bags and trunk carefully as she went to sit in one of the white leather seats. It wasn’t her first time on a jet, she’d be on a handful throughout her life, but she always got a little nervous when it came to flying.

She checked her watch quickly, it was almost 8:30pm, meaning by the time they got to America and she got through customs, it would probably be close to midnight. Her aunt had suggested Marinette come later in the evening, that way she would have a full night to adjust to the time difference. She’d thought it would have been a better idea for her to take an earlier flight and just sleep in the air, but she wasn’t about to argue with her aunt, after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s jet.

She was introduced to the pilots and the two attendants that would be on the flight by Desmond, a large and imposing man her aunt had sent to collect her. After introductions the staff gave her a run through of basic plane safety. Both attendants, one male and one female, were very talkative and their safety monologue had a lot of jokes and quips in it. After they were finished they kept chatting with her, asking her questions about herself and how she was related to Edna. The man kept asking about her outfits, which were towards the back.

By the time the conversation died down and Marinette looked out the window, they were in the air. She hadn’t even noticed the take off, either that or she’d just blocked it out. In any case she set to work making herself comfortable, she was hoping to sleep for most of the flight.

As she spread the blanket she had been given over her lap she stealthily examined the man who Edna had sent for her, he was sitting on the opposite side of the cabin in a similar chair to her own. Desmond was large in stature, reminding her of Adrien’s bodyguard. His head was square shaped and he had a grey buzzcut. His chin was large and protruding with a dimple in the center of it. His eyes were a dark hazel and covered by square reading glasses that he had not been wearing when he picked her up. He wore a well tailored suit and was holding what looked like a romance novel in his hands. That’s when Marinette noticed the wedding band.

When Edna had come to visit Marinette a few years back, she ended up stealing Marinette away for an impromptu American weekend. That was the last time she had been to Steel City, which was Edna’s home base. They spent two whole days in Edna’s costume shop attempting to come up with a work around for the magic suit. Marinette left with no new suit, but Edna did promise her she would come up with something.

She had ridden alone on Edna’s jet back to Paris, save for a bodyguard of her aunt’s. “Were you the man who escorted me home the last time I visited Edna?” Marinette asked, her voice low and calm.

The man looked up from his book and smiled. “Yes ma’am.” His voice was deep and gruff with some sort of accident Marinette didn’t recognize.

“I remember that flight.” She whispered. “Weren’t you, I mean, hadn’t your wife just give birth?” The conversation was still fuzzy in her head, but she remembered the man being very nervous about fatherhood.

His smile grew as he sat his book down.

“Yes ma’am. Zoe was only about a week old. I volunteered for the day trip to escort you back. Needed to clear my head for a little bit.”

“How is your daughter?” More of their previous discussion coming back to her. “She was in the NICU, wasn’t she?”

“Ten days, yes. They needed to run some tests but the doctors and her mom and I were fairly confident that she was healthy by the time I agreed to take you home.” She could tell he was surprised she remembered so much.

“Do you like fatherhood?”

“Very much ma’am. Little Zoe’s babbling and toddling all about now. And she’s got a brother on the way, he’ll be here in a few months.” Marinette beamed at the man.

“That’s wonderful! Do you have any names picked out yet?”

“We’re thinking either Brandon or Lewis.”

“Oh, I love the name Lewis!” Marinette chimed. “It’s one of my top two boy names. The other is Hugo, but I suppose you don’t hear that one as often in America.”

“No ma’am, you don’t.”

“Sorry that you had to fly to Paris and then all the way back for me. I bet you would much rather be with your family right now.” She looked down sheepishly. “If I had children I don’t know how on earth I could leave them for even a second.”

“I don’t mind ma’am. And besides, it’s not like I left my little Zoe all by her lonesome, she’s got her mom. And her grandparents are in town. Plus, Edna’s always much more generous with paternity leave if you’ve put in a few long hour jobs.”

“Oh. Well I’m glad to hear that.” Marinette breathed. “Can I ask, it’ll be pretty late when we get there, do you think it’s worth me sleeping now? Or should I try and wait it out?”

“Honestly, with all the commotion, Edna will probably want you up bright and early. I’d say once we get you all settled in it’ll probably be around one in the morning, and someone will come round to wake you about five o’clock.”

“So I should sleep now?”

“That would be my suggestion ma’am.”

She nodded happily. “Alright then, that’s the plan. Could you wake me up about an hour before we land so I can make sure I look a little presentable?”

“Of course ma’am.”

“Thank you Desmond.” She relaxed into the chair and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep. But sleep did not come to Marinette easily nowadays. In fact, it was getting hard to remember a time when sleep came easily to her at all.

Her mind immediately went to Chat. He knew she was leaving that night, usually they would be patrolling together about now but she’d explained to him she would be leaving before they got the chance to meet up again. Hawkmoth had been unusually quiet the week leading up to her trip so she hadn’t seen Chat in about five or six days. She missed him.

Usually on nights where one or both of them weren’t patrolling, Chat would drop by her balcony and the two would have a nice talk over hot chocolate and baked goods. But he hadn’t been in awhile. He’d explained that his schedule was getting more and more hectic as they moved into spring, or at least he explained it to Ladybug. She later used that information to rationalize to herself why he hadn’t been around in a while.

She was a little surprised he hadn’t made this point known to her civilian self, but then he was leaving certain details out of conversation between her two alter egos. She’d noticed it a few months ago. He’d tell the same story twice but a handful of details would be added to one and would be missing from the other. When he told Marinette about his friend getting his head stuck in the railing of his stairs, he’d mentioned that this was the same friend who constantly challenged people to arm wrestling competitions. But when he told the story to Ladybug he completely left out the part where his other friend had tried to use butter to get him unstuck, thoroughly coating his head in the condiment.

It felt almost like he was testing her. The dynamic between them had been weird like that for awhile. It was almost like he knew, or he was close to figuring it out, and was just trying to piece together the last few dots. If this had been a year ago, or even half a year ago, she would have lost it. But now, the idea of Chat knowing, didn’t bother her as much. She actually found herself playing along, dropping hints.

He’d drop hints too. She wondered if he’d figured out that she had a guess for who he was as well. If he’d noticed her testing questions or not. He probably did, her kitty was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for.

They’d agreed on waiting till after Hawkmoth’s defeat to reveal themselves, but she was pretty sure that by the end of the year they’d both have a solid grasp on who the other was. She wasn’t as afraid of it anymore, not after she came to terms with what her mind and heart was telling her. And the idea of him knowing got less and less scary the more he looked deeper into Marinette, the more he analyzed her when he thought she wasn’t looking. He almost seemed rather pleased at the idea of it being her, or at least at the idea of him having figured her out.

Of course, everything could very easily fall apart if Marinette’s own guess was wrong. Hence why she was a tad more cautious with her own digging. After all, Chat knew that she had a very very large crush on Adrian at one point. The last thing she needed to do was upset him by assuming that the two boys were one in the same, or worse insult him. Though the evidence to support her theory was mounting quite high, she still felt a little unsure.

At this point she was about sixty-eight percent sure Adrien and Chat Noir were one and the same. She felt like Chat’s percentage of where she and ladybug stood was much higher, but she no longer cared if he figured her out first.

As she drifted off to sleep she made a mental note to make sure and get him something, a souvenir of some kind from her trip. She wondered if she should get both boys something, or just Chat and see if Adrian showed up with it on his person. That was a good idea, she’d have to remember that.

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1) (part 2) - Here (part 2.5) (part 3) - soon

Planning on making a part 2.5 which will hopefully be up within the next few days depending on my spare time. And if you want to be tagged, let me know!

@graduatedmelon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @bamagirl513

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