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haifengg · 3 years

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Pairing: NanamixGN!Reader

Note: I think I got this ask quite a while ago but due to my hiatus it got postponed a million times. Now that I am slowly coming back and am publishing the bits and pieces I wrote during being away this A-Z is finally leaving my drafts as well.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Given his S/O is a sorcerer as well I think he would limit PDA at work to a minimum. Even if they are officially together or even married. He just likes to separate work and home. Tho it doesn’t mean that he is not making small intimate gestures at work like randomly dropping in with coffee or - when they are on a mission - sending a text asking how they are doing.

At home he is pretty affectionate. Randomly pulling them in for a hug, giving small back rubs when they are doing the dishes after he cooked. This kind of thing.

B = Before (What were they like when they had a crush?) Distant. Nanami would probably be a person who maybe actually mistakes the feeling for some other emotion at first. Leaving him confused about why he thinks about them so much. The poor man would likely be irritated every time they are nice to him. Why the heck doesn’t his heart stop pounding? And why is he suddenly excited to go to work? Disappointed when he is not assigned the same mission as them? Or - if they aren’t a sorcerer - sad when a mission takes him away from wherever he met them for too long?

C = Confession (What was their confession like?) Well-planned and straight forward. Nanami was already observing them for a while before making a move. Although he doesn’t actually confess it is pretty obvious when he likes someone because it happens so rarely. Just imagine him asking someone out for dinner. That gives away so much - don’t you agree?

D = Date (What was the first official date they went on?) If we don’t count the dinner mentioned above … I guess it would be something like a gallery. Nanami would definitely want to test his s/o’s taste in art because it tells a lot about a person’s character. What kind of art they prefer (paintings, photography, sculptures, … ) and how they look at it as well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Professionally. He would state the fact on why they aren’t compatible anymore and what made him draw this conclusion. I don’t think either one of them would cheat on the other mainly because Nanami wouldn’t get into a relationship with someone capable of doing that in the first place (I hope). He would sit down with his (not) s/o and talk it through. There might be tears on the other side but not on his. He thought about it a lot and made peace with his feelings before starting this conversation.

F = Fights (What would fights look like? What are things that upset them?) Kento barely looses his temper. And if he does I wouldn’t say that it is necessarily a bad thing. Getting him so worked up about something does only mean he cares. Fights would mostly be on the calmer/diplomatic side. He might be upset about something but there is no need for him to yell or anything. If the problem can be resolved just by talking about it - great! Why waste his precious energy on negative things, when he can use them elsewhere?

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) We all know - and all those rough sm*t fan fictions can’t proof me wrong - that he probably is the most gentle character in entire JJK. He despises the violence of his job therefore he doesn’t want to inflict pain or anything on anyone on his good side. Especially his S/O. Nanami has the most gentle touch, fleeing kisses, he will hold them tight but never smother them.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) As mentioned above: Tight and secure. Or soft. His S/O almost automatically buries their face in the crook of his neck because - who wouldn’t. Is there anything else I have to say about hugs by Nanami Kento? Yes. Am I able to put it into words? No. It’s just a very overwhelming feeling - that’s all.

I = Intimacy (What is their favorite form of intimacy? Do they have problems with it?) For him I think it would be things where they take care of him. While he shows his love through cooking and providing (which he takes a lot of pride from), he loves being taken care of as well. Maybe in departments he doesn’t know so much about. Like skincare. If his S/O teases him about his wrinkles and stern look he would gladly accept any advice in skincare from them, let them do their magic with face massages and serums. He doesn’t even care if it has any effect on his skin - he just loves the attention he gets and thrives on the feeling how much his S/O cares about him (and his skin apparently).

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) This one I am really indecisive about. I can see him get more jealous that we would expect him too - which would be a nice surprise tbh. But also not jealous at all because he is confident. Kento knows what his S/O likes about him and he also knows what separates him from other men. What makes him special. I think the times he gets jealous are the days he doesn’t get to spent with his S/O because of work or a mission. Which rather results in being mad at Jujutsu Tech than jealous of someone else.

K = Kisses (Are they a good kisser? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Forehead. Kisses. It doesn’t matter what height there S/O is. It is one of the most protective gestures and he enjoys giving those as much as his S/O enjoys receiving them.

The back of the hand cheesy kisses. Because they are his everything, he wants to treat them like it. Nanami knows it’s cheesy but neither one of them thinks too much about it. When they sit across the table, fingers sloppily interlocked on the table top, he occasionally picks up their hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it. Almost absent-minded.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He is not very fond of them. Not saying that he won’t love and do everything for his own kids but other people’s kids are usually a nuisance for him. If they are loud or misbehaving he is really not having it. Though he would never lash out or raise his voice against them/their parents. ‘Children’ as in ‘his students’ … he always makes sure to treat them as children in a way he wants them safe/won’t put them in unnecessary danger.

M = Messages (How often do they text his S/O?) Kento strikes me as a kind of guy who doesn’t text often. Mostly because in his line of work sharing attention could easily be his downfall or worse. He will let his s/o know if he’s running late or occasionally ask if there is anything they need from the store or things like that but aside from practical messages he doesn’t text much.

Though if he is on a long mission and away from his s/o for quite a time span he usually rather calls them than text.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Nights as in ‘Nights Out’? Date nights? Well, he is a foodie so dinner is always a popular option. He takes the time to carefully research about the restaurant and the menu. If the rotate dishes, he will make sure they’re going at the exactly right season to get the best culinary experience possible.

Nanami is old fashioned. So he will hold the door for them, pull back the chair … helps them into their coat.

He also likes going to the movies. The intimacy of the dark theatre gives him the confidence to reach out for their hand or have his arm around their shoulder. Since he usually limits PDA in public this is exciting for him.

O = Opinion (Would they ask for their S/O’s opinion a lot? How important is it in terms of decisions?) Probably more than I would expect him too. Maybe not about the smaller things but decisions that involve the both of them he would definitely ask.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Due to the time he spends exposed to Gojo this man has the patience of a saint. Literally. He rarely snaps at his S/O.

Q = Quizzes (How does a bar trivia night teamed up with them look like?) Stressed. Yes, this man in very educated and cultured but imagine him sitting in a loud-ass bar, having to answer questions about the transformers or Megan Thee Stallion. Absolutely absurd. How old he must feel …

R = Remember (How much do they remember about their S/O or their relationship in general?) Not everything but a lot. He will remember little things they mentioned early on in the relationship and bring it up again later. He also uses this ability for presents and such. As well as in fights. If they think they can outtalk him with something you accusedly said or didn’t say some time ago - I suggest they surrender, because he will remember much better.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Very Protective. I mean yes, he knows that they can stand up for themselves but why should they have to do that if he is around? One of the big perks dating him is that he is who he is and that his presence confuses most people. So he might as well use it. Not so much in a physical way but rather in addressing the people bothering his S/O directly in the typical manner of his.

I think his understanding of being protected equals being taken care of which plays into the skincare thing I mentioned earlier. It is not so much physical procreation from danger but preserving a future together where one cares about the other deeply and only wants their best.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Medium effort. He prepares and researches but he rarely comes up with a new idea. He knows what he likes and his S/O probably does too. His work is so stressful and has close to no repetition so that he enjoys doing the same things on dates over and over. That does not mean it will get boring. Because Nanami sometimes thrives on going the extra mile. There is a restaurant across the country that he really wants to dine at? Buckle up - he is going on a vacation. Short trips or spa weekends are also things he appreciates.

Since he remembers dates and anniversaries well he is usually well prepared for those occasions. He puts a lot of thought into presents and barely ever gifts useless things. He does not like to have a lot of stuff laying around so what he gives to people usually serves a purpose.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a S/O?) Literally everything I mentioned above. Namai Kento is a unique mix of all his traits. A very balanced person.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Well … he wears the same freaking suit everyday so … but yes I think cares about his looks and hygiene in general. As far as clothing goes he probably has one brand he is loyal too, which automatically sets his fashion style in stone as well. He has the same haircut for quite a while and sees no point in changing it.

Overall just the classic hetero dude who ones figured out what works for him and stuck with it. lol.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their S/O? Yes. His S/O is the other side of him. Is what balances his inner peace. Without them he worries too much, stresses too much. He needs them to tell him it’s going to be okay.

X = X-Ray (How transparent are they?) Nanami doesn’t actually tells them everything but will disclose if they ask. He just doesn’t think they are interested in small details about him.

Y = Yuck (Everyone has flaws. What is theirs?) He. Doesn’t. Do. The. Dishes.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Kento never lets go of his S/O. Which can be annoying. And suffocating. Especially in summer. He is not clingy and they don’t fall asleep like this but in the morning he always spoons them or weirdly holds their hand. Sometimes toes interlocked lmao. Which makes them even more lonely when they are apart, because they got used to it way too quickly.

@kpopsnowball @soleilsuhh @jeonghanmoon @himitsu-luna

@sagedevans @shampoocifer @your-consulting-fangirl @gwynsapphire

MASTERLIST

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu nanami #Nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk Nanami kento

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Note

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing.

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin. It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

#tma #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #georgie barker #rosie zampano #tma rosie #tim stoker #meet cute #blind date au #this is my love letter to TMA #prompt answer #fanfic prompt

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fruityutas · 3 years

Text

requested ~ no

not proofread

wc: 2.3k

genre ~ fluff, highschool au

synopsis ~ badboy!jisung is smitten with you after catching a glance of you on the first day of school, so the dreamies help him to make you his by the end of the year

warnings ~ fighting, cursing, underage smoking (don’t smoke children!! Or adults just don’t smoke in general)

note ~ this is a continuation of something another blog wrote! i got full clearance from them to write this and i’m finally getting around to it! @itsarealshitshow thank u again for letting me do this!! here’s the original post :)

“so what’s the plan for today, sung?” haechan says a little too loud for jisung’s comfort. the younger looks about, bug-eyed, for people who could have heard. “dude, that sounded like we plan on killing someone.” haechan just shrugs and pops the gum in his mouth. jisung shoves the boy lightly, causing him to choke. sniggers erupt from the group of boys that sit in the farthest corner of the lunchroom. the dreamies are what they call themselves, though everyone finds it a bit funny. “what was that for, you brat?!” haechan’s friends erupt in laughter, causing the nearby table to look over. the table that just so happened to be where your friend group sat. jisung makes eye contact with you and smiles. you send a timid one back before your friends roll their eye at the group’s antics and begin to leave. yeri takes your arm and pulls you away from the table before you can say anything about it.

science drags on so you ask to use the restroom to see if you can find jisung in the halls. not the most educated choice but you have to at least speak to the boy. the hall pass in your hand is your ticket to getting out of trouble with any teacher, and the excuse of you being new. passing the rows of lockers proves no sight of the boy you seek until you get to the last ones near the back entrance of the school. There was jisung and his friends at the end, talking about some game while huddled around what you presumed to be a switch. you stop abruptly, which causes your sneakers to squeak. all six of the boys look up at you with eagle eyes. you’re a deer caught in headlights and not a word is uttered for a good minute. “you better not rat us out, goody two shoes.” haechans’ the first to speak. you shake your head and walk up to them. “i’m skipping class too so it really wouldn’t bring me any luck to do that.” they all look at you confused. “yeah yeah why would i skip class i get it. i’m looking for jisung, actually.” the boy in question turns red as a tomato and starts to stutter. the others snicker at his flustered state. you turn to jisung and smile sweetly. “i know my friends are always rude to you guys but i wanna get to know you. sorry for their behavior, also. they don’t know when to keep to themselves.” your face is now red as well, mostly because up close, jisung is absolutely breathtaking. “that’s for sure.” haechan’s mumble makes its way to your ears but is quickly muffled by jaemin smacking his arm.

in the next few weeks, you got a lot closer to jisung and his friends much to your friends’ dismay. “they’re all trouble, y/n. why do you hang around them?” you roll your eyes at her. “they’re just high school boys, they literally laughed at a fart noise the other day. they aren’t any harm to anyone.” she scoffs at you. “i thought you’d be at least a little smarter than this, but apparently not. i can’t be friends with someone who hangs out with unscholarly people.” you’re taken aback at her statement. “whatever yeri, if you don’t wanna be friends anymore then i don’t care, have fun being a bore.” you hurried away before she could say anything back to you. you were glad she didn’t want to speak with you anymore, all she ever talked about was school. you needed to find jisung.

you knew to find him in the back of the gym around this time of day. it was oddly quiet in there today, probably due to them not wanting to get caught for the third time this week. “jisung.” a small reply was heard along with the laughter of his friends. you walk over to where they were sitting and sit next to jisung. you lean against his shoulder and he reads you instantly. “what’s wrong?” you sigh and shuffle to get more comfortable. “yeri and i are no longer friends. all she does is be rude about the fact that i’m hanging out with you guys and i got tired of it. so she said she didn’t want to be friends with me and then she called me dumb! the audacity of her.” all six boys bust into giggles. the look on your face is unamused, and the boys only laugh more at it. “listen, y/n, she was probably right about us. we are trouble. i bet you didn’t know jisung beat up some kid yesterday because he was talking about you.” you snap your head to jisung, who is sheepishly looking down. “he was saying gross things! i can’t let someone speak of you like that, y/n.” you sigh and force him to look up at you. “jisung, you don’t have to protect me.” he pouts cutely, “but i do! i have to.” you blush at the thought of him protecting you. “but why?” now it’s jisung’s turn to blush. “i like you…” it comes out as a mumble and you almost don’t catch it. the boys whoop and holler while the two of you sit in each other’s flustered presence. you scoot closer to jisung and whisper in his ear, “i like you too, you know.”

the next days are filled with teasing from the group and sweet gestures from jisung. holding hands in the hallway, kissing at your locker (which more often than not turns into making out in the janitor’s closet), and him buying your lunch.

“y/n!” an unfamiliar voice rings in the hall and all of you turn to see a guy running up to you. you recognize him from your science class, but you’ve never really spoken with him, so you’re just as confused as they are. “this is for you.” he turns to look at the rest of the group with a look of disapproval before turning back to you. “uh, thanks i guess. what’s your name again?” his face flashes disappointment before returning to a happy one. “ilhoon, from science class?” you nod in agreement before he winks at you and walks down the hall. “what the fuck was that?” jisung’s deep voice grumbles in his chest, the vibrations reaching you due to his figure hugging yours. “i honestly don’t know, sungie. lemme read this note.” you open up the letter and begin to read out loud. “this is for your eyes only, cutie. i know we haven’t spoken much, but i want to get to know you so how about we go on a date?” jisung scoffs at that. “the way this kid thinks he’s getting a date with you. i’ll take care of it baby.” you point him a look. “park jisung, i can handle my own thank you. i’ll just tell him that i’m dating you and he’ll back off.” jisung stays silent but rolls his eyes in response.

jisung keeps seeing that kid in the hallway, and everytime they make eye contact, he receives a scowl from him. the gall this kid has, to think that you’d go on a date with him. finally managing to corner him, jisung asks what he thinks he’s doing. “i’m trying to ask y/n out, park. now get out of my way.” scoffing, jisung yanks the boy’s arm. “now listen here, she’s taken. by me. so don’t even think about it ilhoon.” “i’m not scared of you, ya’know! you think you’re tough but you’re not.”

“i think you should shut up if you know what’s good for you.” haechan’s quick response makes his presence known, along with the rest of the dreamies. ilhoon rolls his eyes. “this is between me and jisung, brat.” haechan tsks at the boy, “well, you asked for it kid.” ilhoon looks confused before a harsh punch is delivered to his cheek. his head whips around from the force and he doesn’t have time to recover before jisung is swinging his other arm at him. a sickening ‘crack!’ is heard by the group as the boy wails in pain. “definitely a broken nose. good job sung.” jaemin pats him on the back as they walk away. jisung looks over his shoulder and yells out, “don’t talk to y/n again, got it?” he doesn’t bother to acknowledge a response from ilhoon.

lunch is busy as always, though the table that your little group sits at is in the back corner of the lunchroom. it provides a nice space away from everyone else where you can all enjoy each other’s presence. “jisung why the fuck did you break this kid’s nose?” your harsh voice cuts the air as soon as you are close to the table. his face goes pale while the rest of the boys burst into laughter. “i, he was trying to get with you! i’m your boyfriend and he was talking shit about you being with me!” you sigh in guilt and scoot yourself close to him. “sungie, you’re my boyfriend ok? i don’t want to date anyone else. i just don’t want you getting in trouble.” he blushes at your words of affirmation and nuzzles his head into your neck. the rest of lunch goes by smoothly, and before you leave the boys go out to smoke (even though you always nag at them to stop). “how many times have i asked you guys to stop killing your lungs?” laughs all come from their mouths as they walk past you. jisung gives you a slightly guilty look before joining his friends in their endeavors. you sigh and stand with them until they finish, which doesn’t take longer than 10 minutes. jisung walks you to your class before heading to his, a sweet gesture he always did.

word got around that he broke a kid’s nose, and he does get into trouble for it. three days suspension and four days of detention after that. you know he will be skipping detention just as much as the principal so you fail to understand why he was even given detention.

the first day he’s out was boring to you, but you went to his house right after school with the other boys and got to hang out. the second and third days were boring as hell, but the day jisung returned was very… interesting. Jisung hadn’t entered the classroom yet this morning, so you sat alone next to his desk in the back. ilhoon enters the classroom and searched for someone, and when they aren’t there he heads straight for you. “hey y/n.” you give him a blank-faced look. “uh yeah?” he smirks a little, though it’s hard for him presumably because of the broken nose. “now that park is ya’know, facing the consequences for being an asshole, do you wanna go on a date?” you almost cackle in his face, but you keep it to yourself. what in the world is he thinking? “listen ilhoon, since apparently, you didn’t get the memo that jisung punched onto your face, i’m gonna have to spell it out for you. i do not want to go on a date with you, and i never will. you really could’ve avoided getting your nose fucked up if you had just realized that not every girl in this school wants to fuck you.” he scoffs at you and grabs your arm, squeezing rather hard. “listen here, brat. you’re not so bad as you think you are just because you’re dating jisung. so i’m gonna ask you again. are you gonna cooperate with me or do i have to train you to be a good girl?” he’s suddenly jerked back, and hard. the collar of his shirt chokes him and jisung slams him to the ground. while he’s gasping for air, jisung leans down close enough to breathe on his face. “listen here, brat. my girlfriend is not a dog to train, and more importantly, she isn’t yours and won’t be. ever. so stop trying, and if you ever so much as breath in her direction wrong i will do so much more than break your stupid fucking nose, got it?” ilhoon nods so fast you think his brain is knocking around in his head before he gets up and sits in his seat. jisung scoffs at the action and sits down, taking your arm in his hold gently, checking for injury. “are you ok baby? he didn’t hurt you did he?” you shake your head before kissing his nose for reassurance. “no, i’m fine, thank you.” he pecks your lips before turning to face the board, just in time for the teacher to walk in.

maybe jisung was a bad influence, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. and in the end, jisung did get you to be his way before the end of the year.

#neowritingsnet #nshitty frathouse #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream jisung #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream #nct dream fluff #park jisung #park jisung fluff #park jisung x reader

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plaidbooks · 3 years

Text

Nicknames and Slumps - “The Big Leagues” baseball AU

(moodboard by @witches-unruly-heart)

A/N: Here’s chapter 2 of the Baseball AU! I know I mentioned some chapters going towards the Summer Bingo--and they will--but I wanted to establish Sonny in this universe a little bit, first. This chapter takes place in the off season, and the beginning to Sonny’s second season of pitching for the Mets. Like before, feel free to DM me any questions you have about baseball/the AU!

Also, shoutout to @thatesqcrush and her husband for answering my arbitrary Mets questions!

P.S. Aquafresh is a brand of toothpaste

Tags: yelling, otherwise none

Words: 1803

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Sonny’s first year in the majors was almost flawless. Outside of his perfect game in his sixth start, he was dominate; he kept his ERA hovering around the low 1.00’s, and he was still undefeated. He did, however, have a few no decisions, only two of which were his fault. But besides that, he was the star everyone talked about. He even won the Rookie of the Year award; something almost unheard of with pitchers. The Cy Young award shocked no one, and the Mets were frantically offering him more money, trying to keep him. As if he’d go anywhere else.

Even with his spectacular pitching, the Mets didn’t make it to the post-season. But as the Mets watched the World Series from their homes, all anyone could talk about was the kid, Sonny Carisi.

He had gained notoriety among sportscasters and journalists for his outstanding performance on the field. But the fans adored him for his off days, and for how he conducted himself off the field. Not only did Sonny donate most of his time in the off season—not to mention his money—to multiple volunteer organizations, but he also offered to do signings at small, struggling mom and pop shops for free. He’d bring in huge crowds, spending hours at these events, taking pictures, signing autographs, talking to kids and adults alike.

While in the ballpark, on days he pitched, he would do his workouts in the trainer’s room, coming out of the dugout just to throw in the bullpen. He was focused, working on his mechanics. But on days he didn’t pitch, he was one of the first out on the field. Sonny had a penchant for hanging out right next to the dugout, signing autographs and taking pictures. He never declined—unless the umpire was yelling at him to get off the field so they could start the game—and he had a blast. And when he was in the outfield, shagging balls during batting practice, he’d toss them up to the crowd, or give them to kids with a huge smile.

Sonny’s trademark smile earned him his first nickname: Aquafresh. He threw his head back and laughed when he first heard it, loving it. He wasn’t as fond of his other nicknames that sprung up afterwards: Stringbean and Earthworm Jim being his least favorites. But there was one that apparently was going around that he didn’t hear from the crowd.

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

It was early morning, and he was watching the postgame wrap from the night before while he ate breakfast. Normally, Sonny didn’t watch the pre- or postgame commentary. But since he started dating you, he made it a point to watch if you were on. He smiled as he saw you wearing his jersey, thinking you were too damn cute, and wanting to cuddle with you on the couch.

The conversation slowly shifted from the game that happened to Sonny, as it normally did…not because you forced them to talk about him. In fact, you did your job as normal; it was your cohosts that would change the subject to him. And now that they knew—the world knew—that you two were dating, he almost wondered if it was on purpose, to see if you slip up on some personal info about him, or you two together.

“Speaking of Carisi, have you heard the new nickname? I heard the Staten Island Little Leaguers came up with it,” one of the guys said.

Sonny watched your face light up. “I have! They call him Peanut Butter Cup, right?” you asked, though he knew you didn’t need to; you never said anything that you couldn’t back up.

“Peanut Butter Cup? Where did they get that from?” another of your colleagues wondered out loud.

You smiled, and Sonny felt a swell of pride at your knowledge. “From his last name. They went from Carisi to Risi, then to Reese, then Reese’s and bam! Peanut Butter Cup,” you explained.

Sonny laughed, flushing with embarrassment, his heart warm. Children called him Peanut Butter Cup. Not for the first time, he felt an intense longing; Sonny wanted children, wanted a family. He was only 22, but he had known most of his life that he wanted to be a father. He made a mental note to bring up the prospect of children with you. It was still early in your relationship; you’ve been dating about five months, but with your jobs, you rarely saw each other. Hell, you saw each other more at work than off the field. Your relationship was mostly over text or phone calls, but he still felt deeply about you. He wasn’t sure if it was love yet, but he was hoping to get to know you more in person in the off season.

Once he finished breakfast, Sonny sent you a text: I saw your show from last night.

You responded almost instantly, unsurprising to him; your whole livelihood was on your phone. And? Did I do well?

He smiled, heart fluttering; he liked that you valued his opinion. Fantastic. Just one thing.

What??

I hate peanut butter.

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

Sonny Carisi was named the Opening Day starter for the Mets, shocking absolutely no one. He had just turned 23 and was already the best pitcher for the club, maybe even in baseball at the moment. Or so he, and everyone who watched him, thought. But that first game, the Cubs lit him up. Sonny gave up more runs in that game than he had in any other start combined. His manager took him out in the 4th, something that’s never happened to him before. When Sonny pitched, he was normally a shoo-in for at least 7 innings.

Frustrated, Sonny sat hard on the bench, not letting anyone outside the pitching coach talk to him.

“It happens to everyone eventually, Carisi. Just gotta let this roll off your back, come back strong your next outing.”

But that next outing, he did worse. He didn’t know what was happening to him. His command was perfect, his stuff great. It’s like everyone he faced suddenly could see right through him, knew every pitch he was going to throw before he threw it. It was infuriating. His ERA ballooned up to the 5.00’s, and he wondered dimly if the Mets would trade him.

Sonny eventually started shutting everyone out. He even stopped watching the pre- and postgame shows, whether you were on it or not. He stopped reading the articles you wrote, and he stopped reaching out. He even stopped being the first out of the dugout, stopped signing things by the dugout. On his days off, he spent it hiding in the locker room until game time. He didn’t want to field the questions about what was wrong with him; he didn’t have an answer, for them or himself.

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

“Sonny, please open the door,” you called, knocking on the front door to his loft. He’d been avoiding you, and you worried about him.

You heard the latch unlock and took a step back. Sonny opened the door, looking annoyed. “What do you want?”

“I want to make sure my boyfriend is okay. Can I come in, please?” you asked. You knew he was frustrated, and that this may be something you’d have to deal with while dating. And you planned to force yourself into his life, to help him as best you could, whether he wanted to shut you out or not.

Sonny scoffed, turning and walking into his home. But he left the door open, and you followed, closing it behind you. “Of course, I’m not okay! Haven’t you been watching?”

“You know I have been. So, you’re in a slump; it happens—”

“Not to me!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

You took a breath, staying calm. “It was bound to happen, babe.” You tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged you off.

“So, what? You’re going to side with those other analysts? Calling me a fluke and writing shitty articles about me?”

You flinched at the accusatory tone in his voice. “Of course, not—”

“Why not? Everyone else is doing it; I’m sure your bosses would eat it up.”

You sighed, trying to shove down your own defensiveness. “Would you please just listen to me for a moment?” He shot you a glare but didn’t speak up. “You know I analyze pitching for a living, right?”

“So? I’ve tried to make my fastball faster, tried to make my curve drop more, but I can’t—”

“Sonny,” you said softly, making him stop his rant. “Instead of trying to blow pitches passed batters, you should be working more on your mechanics and command. If batters are making contact, then make that work for you. Force grounders or popups, trust your defense to back you up; they’re there for a reason.”

His eyes scanned yours as he took in your words. “Th-that’s a great idea, actually….”

“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, smiling.

Sonny returned your grin. “I—I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he sighed heavily. “I just…I don’t know what’s changed between last season and now—”

“You’re not new anymore; teams can break down your pitching style. You won a Cy Young and Rookie of the Year; they’re all so threatened by you that they all probably studied the hell out of you.”

He nodded, feeling a little better with your praise. “Y-yeah….”

You reached up, cupping his face, making him look at you. “There’s nothing wrong with you or your pitching. The batters just stepped up their game. So now, you have to answer back, okay?”

He lifted a hand, placing it on top of yours, and turned his face in your hold, pressing his lips to your palm. “Thank you, doll. And again, I’m sorry for yelling—”

“It’s fine, Sonny. I understand that you’re frustrated,” you said, smiling.

He squeezed your hand. “It’s not fine; you’re just trying to help. I should listen to you more; you’re so smart, and not to mention beautiful. I promise to never snap at you again.”

Your smile grew, and you lifted to your tiptoes, giving him a tender kiss. He leaned down, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you flush against him, and you hummed into his mouth. Slowly, he pulled back, leaning his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose with yours.

“Just so you know, I’ve never, and will never, write a shitty article about you, or call you a fluke, Stringbean,” you muttered against his lips.

Sonny let out a chuckle. “You know, you’re the only person who can call me that to my face, and not have me get annoyed.”

You giggled, pressing your lips to his once more. And sure enough, his next start had him looking back to normal, except instead of striking out double digits, he forced grounders for eight scoreless innings.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #the big leagues au #baseball!au #baseball!sonny

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freaoscanlin · 3 years

Text

Put It On the List

3283 words, rated PG. Clint/Laura, Laura & Natasha, Natasha & Clint.

A few months before the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier, the spy life interrupts the Barton family on a normal errand. Perhaps bringing the scary ex-Russian spy was a mistake. She thinks so, at any rate.

A/N: I wrote this as something of a prelude to an Endgame fix-it fic in progress. It predates everything in that fic and it's cute, so I'm tossing it up here for now.

“Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

“Sorry we can’t provide more excitement than grocery shopping,” Laura said as she pulled out the stash of reusable bags from the trunk.

“It’s fine.”

Laura was of the opinion that a vacation should be taken somewhere exotic, or at least filled with bottomless alcoholic beverages, especially given as young and unfettered as Natasha was. But the woman who had recently become Captain America’s partner at SHIELD had apparently decided a week off merited a trip to Iowa and she had been absolutely content to tag along on family outings with no apparently sign of boredom at all.

“It’s okay,” Clint said, hopping out from the driver’s seat as Natasha unhooked Lila from her car seat. “Nat’s secretly boring at heart. It’s the best kept secret at SHIELD.”

Natasha gave him a puzzled look. “Now, that can’t be true if even you’ve figured it out.”

“Excellent burn,” Laura said, laughing. “You really should come stay more often.”

“Somebody needs to keep Cap in line, otherwise I would.” Nat easily swung Lila onto her hip, following the other three as Cooper grabbed onto his father’s hand.

Laura had already spent the entire dinner the night before peppering her with questions about working with Steve Rogers, the Captain America from the comments. Clint had mentioned him a few times after that kerfuffle in New York with the Chitauri (“Nice guy, wears khakis.”), but Natasha had the inside scoop. And more willingness to share if he was as attractive in person as he looked on TV in that ridiculous star-striped uniform (“If you like that square-jawed All-American sort of thing, sure.”). Laura had even pointed out that, hey, if he was single...

“Yes, the ex-Russian spy and the American war hero. It sounds too much like a bad eighties movie.” Natasha had helped herself to more creamed corn. “I think I’ll have to find him a girlfriend to avoid ever having to answer that question again.”

“Hey,” Laura had said, protesting.

“Fair,” Clint had agreed.

And now here was the ex-Russian spy herself tagging along at the grocery store, carrying Lila and looking like there wasn’t anyplace else she’d rather be than the big chain grocery store a few towns over because they had a better selection of gluten free snacks than the Shop A Lot back home. She trailed along as Clint took over the cart, Lila kicking her legs happily from the child’s seat atop.

“You’ve got the list?” Laura asked.

“I thought you had it?”

“Clint, I said you need to grab it off the fridge before we left. Weren’t you listening?”

“I always listen to you. But it wasn’t on the fridge, so I thought you had it.”

“That’s ridiculous, I put it there last night and—” Laura turned to see Natasha silently holding it out, eyebrows high. “Oh, that works. Thanks, Natasha.”

A half-shrug. “He would’ve forgotten it.”

“They’re impugning my honor,” Clint told Lila and Cooper, the former of whom giggled back at him. “What’s first? Edible or not edible?”

“Food first. Oh, hey, did you remember to put the popsicle sticks on here? Cooper’s day camp was asking people to donate supplies, and I put us down for those.”

“Yes, I absolutely did that. For no reason whatsoever, may I see the list?” Clint grabbed it away and underhandedly passed it to Natasha. Since Laura caught the move, she figured they weren’t actually trying to hide it.

When the list returned to her, “popsicle sticks” was written on the appropriate line in slightly loopy handwriting. “Cute,” Laura said. “Also, if there’s food you want that we don’t have at the house, make sure you put it in, Nat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Just keep it in mind.” Laura smirked. “Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile broke out when Laura laughed. Later, Laura noticed that a small bag of nectarines had been added to the cart.

Normally she did this errand without two spies in tow, which was a matter of getting the groceries as quickly as possible and especially speeding through the aisles with the brightly colored boxes that would make Cooper and now Lila whine. Clint’s paycheck was more than generous enough to cover their expenses, but she liked to keep the sugar down at least a little. Grocery trips could be a nightmare from that alone. But now she could send one of them down the danger aisles, while the other distracted the children.

She could get used to this.

Of course, she could have just sent Clint or even Natasha to do the shopping—or gone herself—and she imagined they’d have it done in less than a fifth of the time it took them to wander the aisles now. But Clint had been called on so many SHIELD missions lately that it was nice to just have some family time together.

She was about to suggest they hit up the putt putt course on the way home when Clint’s body language snapped into readiness. On the other side of the cart, Natasha turned away in what most people would deem a casual fashion, but Laura was surprised to see tension running across the line of her shoulders as well.

Instantly, she began to turn her head, to see what had set them both off.

“Don’t look,” Natasha said, Clint echoing her a split-second later.

Cold panic sprang up, but Laura froze in place. The air conditioning turned abruptly frigid. In the basket, Lila had conked out, wheezing a little, and Laura had never been so grateful for her daughter’s ability to fall asleep anywhere.

“This way,” Clint said in a murmur, scooping up Cooper. To strangers, it would never look out of the ordinary, but Laura knew her husband too well to be fooled. And his partner, too, apparently, for she could sense something amiss as Natasha fell in step behind her. At the end of the aisle, away from the registers and most of the store, Clint began shoving aside various things in the cart to deposit Cooper in there. He glanced at Laura. “It’ll be okay, honey. Nat, are they here for you or me?”

“Me.” The word was flat. “They’re scoping out women.”

“Who? Who’s here for what?”

She’d seen Clint and Natasha’s silent conversations before, usually at holiday dinners, but those were always warm and amused. Now, Laura was treated to the fact that they seemingly had their own entire language—and the ability to hold arguments with little more than a few nods and pointed looks.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Cooper asked. “Dad put the stuff back wrong.”

“I know. It’s okay, though. The store employees will know where to put it back properly.” Her pulse had begun to hammer, but Laura did her best to keep her hands steady as she petted Lila’s bent head.

“Fine, you win,” Natasha said, the first words she’d spoken aloud. “Where?”

“Northeast corner, break room.” Clint collected an oversized bucket of licorice, and as Laura and Cooper gawked at him, popped it open and dumped the individually wrapped candies into the cart.

Natasha dropped her phone into it and grabbed Laura’s purse.

“What? Hey, don’t—”

Natasha pulled out a few items, including Laura’s phone. This she dumped in the bucket. An unfamiliar black box, she tossed to Clint. Laura stared mournfully at the shimmery blue phone case bought off of Etsy only last week as the entire bucket was hidden on a shelf behind a case of gum. Clint tossed his hooded jacket to Natasha, gave Laura one brief, heart-stopping look, tousled Cooper’s hair, kissed Lila on the head, and strode off without looking back.

“We were followed,” Natasha said in an undertone, pulling the hood over her distinctive hair.

Followed could mean anything from evil assassins to space aliens at this point, and both of those options led to nauseating conclusions. But Natasha shot her a look, so Laura nodded and swallowed back any panic. And then she changed again, quicksilver just like Clint, so that she was bright and happy Auntie Natasha once more. She picked up Cooper out of the basket and held onto his hand, swinging it cheerfully. “Time to play a new fun game. It’s called ‘Let’s be invisible.’”

“How do you play?”

“Our job,” and Natasha actually hunkered down so that she was on eye level with Cooper, “is to get all the way there,” she pointed to the back of the store, “as fast as we can without running. Because if we run, we won’t be invisible anymore.”

“This is a silly game, Auntie Nat.”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it? Shh, come with me.” Natasha rose and made brief eye contact with Laura, then headed down the aisle in the opposite direction from Clint. She walked briskly, but not fast enough to draw attention, and Laura had to follow. “Clint’s scoping things out,” she said in a low voice as Laura caught up with the sleeping Lila. “He’ll be fine. I’m taking you and the kids to hide.”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

“You’ll be safe.”

So that was a no. Because she knew her friend well enough, she knew Natasha was tense and watchful, but not a single thing about her betrayed that fact. Natasha didn’t lead them straight to wherever they were going, either. They crossed the store through random aisles, first through the art department and then sporting goods, and Laura’s heart sank as she noticed they were approaching the toy department. They were never escaping without at least one meltdown.

But Natasha surprised her by leaning down and whispering something to Cooper that had him giggling. And right on through they went without a single problem.

“Shh,” Natasha said to Cooper as she pushed open the door to a break room. She peeked inside, then jerked her head for Laura to follow.

“What are we doing, Auntie Nat?” Cooper asked as Natasha immediately climbed onto a table and reached for the ceiling.

“New part of the game,” Natasha said.

Laura looked at the human-sized trap door she’d opened and thought Oh no.

“You get to go up there,” Natasha said. “And it’ll be like hide and seek.”

Cooper’s expression suddenly shouted that he found the prospect of invisibility much less enchanting now. “It looks scary.”

“I’ll be with you,” Laura said. “The whole time. We’ll be invisible together, okay?”

“You first, and I’ll hand them up,” Natasha said.

Laura clambered gingerly onto the table, wishing she’d worn better shoes for this. She put her foot into Natasha’s cupped hands and hauled herself into a very, very dusty vent. Darkness surrounded her and she thought Oh, no. Cooper needed a nightlight on the best of nights. Her son was far cleverer than most; even with Natasha’s easy cheer, he could clearly tell something was off. And if he began crying, Lila was bound to wake as well. Keeping them both quiet would be beyond impossible.

Natasha passed Lila up first, and the toddler barely even stirred. Before she could lift Cooper, she hopped off the table and down to his level. Laura couldn’t hear what she said, but she saw Cooper nod and hold his arms up, completely trusting.

When Natasha lifted him up into the vent, he had his chubby little fist wrapped around a little flashlight. Laura hadn’t even seen Natasha pull that from the shelf, though she recognized it as being from sporting goods. Cooper waved it about, wildly.

“I couldn’t grab much,” Natasha said, hauling herself up so that she hung half off the trap door. Laura would kill for that kind of core strength. She slid over two coloring books and crayons. “Sorry about that. Stay here until Clint or I come to get you. If somebody comes in, we’re invisible, right?”

“Invisible,” Cooper agreed, scrambling for the coloring books.

“Good man.” Natasha reached up to ruffle his hair like Clint had done. She glanced about the air vent in a distinctly sardonic way. “Cozy.”

“Stay safe.”

“Will do.” She raised an eyebrow at Laura, and disappeared down the hatch. A few seconds later, the trapdoor slid back into place, leaving Laura in a dark vent with her children and no cell phone to keep them company.

She had to remind herself that they were lucky something like this hadn’t happened before, though that felt like cold comfort when everything smelled like dust. She shifted the sleeping Lila in her arms. “Here, set it here,” she said, helping Cooper open the coloring book. “What shall we color first, huh?”

* * * *

Nearly eleven minutes later, Natasha knelt down next to the man she’d cornered in Home and Garden and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Coincidence.”

“Yup.” Clint sounded close to laughter, the traitor.

“The whole thing. Coincidence.”

“Looks that way.”

Natasha sat down hard on the bottom shelf, which held giant sacks of birdseed. Slamming his head into those rather than the concrete floor was probably the only reason the thug was even still breathing. She’d need to hide the body soon, and alert SHIELD, but she had a few minutes to recover. The cell phone she’d stolen out of his pocket after their fight didn’t show an image of her, as she’d expected, but a completely random woman who looked nothing like Natasha outside of being the same height.

It had definitely been a hit, but she hadn’t been the target.

At least they’d saved some random woman, so there was that.

“We should’ve known they weren’t here for you when there were only two of them,” Clint said over the earpiece. He’d teased her about stashing them in Laura’s purse before they left, the traitor. And look who’d been correct to do so. It had kept them in contact as he’d stalked his own target back to the clearance section in the back. “Mine’s taken care of. You?”

“One minute.” She hauled the man bodily onto the shelf and tossed sacks of birdseed over him.

“I’ll get the phones and swing by to steal the surveillance. You fetch Laura and the kids.”

Natasha winced. The last thing she wanted to do was face Laura after ruining this outing for everybody. “I think they’d rather see their daddy after being stuffed in a dark place out of nowhere.”

“Nah, Auntie Nat is just as good,” Clint said. “Face it, you’re part of the family now, god help you.”

“Yeah, part of the family that can’t even let us go grocery shopping without disaster striking.”

There was a warm laugh from the other side of the comms. “Disaster? This is nothing compared to getting two small children through the cereal aisle without a tantrum, Romanoff.”

Natasha, reaching up to fix the braids that had become disordered during the scuffle, wrinkled her nose. She debated whether or not to swing by the staff restrooms on the way and clean up the lucky hit the thug had landed, but decided it was more important to get la familia Barton out of the vents quickly. The less time the children spent in a dark, scary place, the better.

She resolutely did not think of the absolute darkness of thatshipping container, which unfortunately brought the thoughts closer to the surface than she liked.

But she also didn’t want to scare the children, so she grabbed a hand towel off an endcap as she passed, and dabbed at her face.

Mercifully, the break room remained empty when she stepped in. “All clear,” she said, moving the table back under the trap door. “Invisible game’s over.”

From inside, she heard thumping. “Auntie Nat!”

“Cooper, wait—” was the only warning she had before the trap door opened and Cooper launched himself at her.

She snatched him out of the air, and absolutely did not think about what could have happened if she’d been slower to react. “Whoa, okay. Excited to get out of there, huh?” Laura’s white face appeared over the edge, eyes wide. Natasha mouthed he’s fine back at her. “Here, climb down, let me help your mom and your sister out.”

“I stayed so-o-o-o quiet,” Cooper said. “We colored in a dinosaur for you, but we didn’t know your favorite color so I picked red like your hair. What is your favorite color? There’s another dinosaur on the page, so if it’s not red, I can use that color instead.”

“I do like red a lot.” Natasha thought about it. “Purple, too, maybe.”

“You can’t have purple, that’s Dad’s favorite color.”

“Coop, more than one person can have purple as their favorite color,” Laura said, transferring Lila down to Natasha. Mercifully the baby had slept through all of it. “I like purple, too, remember?”

Cooper wrinkled his nose at that. “Okay, fine. I’ll make it purple.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Natasha promised. Once the entire family had been retrieved, she pushed the trap door back into place. Of course Clint had scouted this spot months ago. His paranoia remained legendary. “Family’s secure, Barton.”

“Got it,” Clint said. “Heading to the front.”

“Meet you there,” Natasha said. To the others with her, she tilted her head toward the door. “Ready to get out of here?”

Laura looked more or less composed, which Natasha had to credit her for. Civilians rarely handled those kinds of curveballs well, but she’d been married to Clint for a decade. It stood to reason this might not even be the first time something like this had happened. Her grip on the sleeping Lila remained tight. “Coop, hold Auntie Nat’s hand, okay? Humor me.”

“All right, I guess.”

“Everything good?” Laura asked.

“False alarm,” Natasha said.

One eyebrow went up. “A false alarm gave you a split lip?”

Natasha worked at it with her tongue, scrunching her nose at the brief spark of pain. “Just another exciting day in our line of work. It all turned out okay, if you ignore that we were unsuccessful in our primary objective.”

Laura looked blank, so Natasha prompted: “Getting the groceries, Barton.”

“Pfft, whatever. We’ll get takeout. We’ll consider it an adventure, and it won’t even be the first one today. Hopefully there will be less dust this time.” Laura leaned over, conspiratorially. “I am getting my phone back, right? I really like the case, and it’ll take forever to get another one like it.”

Years of espionage training kept Natasha from staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head. Clint had told her years before that his wife was far more pragmatic than either of them, but she’d never had a chance to witness it in action before. She almost wanted to ask if this was some kind of backwoods Midwestern thing, but it seemed better not to do that.

So she settled into a helpless laugh. “Yes, we’ll get your phone back. The case is really cute.”

“Good. I knew you’d agree.” Laura squeezed her shoulder with her free hand, and it felt more like a thank you than Natasha had ever received after years and years on the job.

“One point,” Natasha said, feeling a tiny bit shy as as she pulled out a package she’d swiped on their trip through the store earlier. “We should probably pay for the coloring books. And these.”

Laura looked down at the bag of popsicle sticks and laughed. “You really are a hero.”

FIN

(the target was a leaked witsec hit. Bad timing all around)

#avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #hawkeye #clint barton #laura barton #cooper barton #lila barton #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #not simple to say verse

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lucy-sky · 4 years

Text

Thin Ice (The Mandalorian x Reader)

Oops, my hand slipped and I wrote The Mandalorian fic :’D

Summary: you accidentally fall through the ice on a lake and oh no, there was only one bed Mando has to warm you up.

Warnings: yes, it sounds weird, but NO WARNINGS, all is super innocent, it’s just pure self indulgent fluff and the only reason I wrote it is that I want cuddles, please don’t judge me :’D I mean... every strong independent woman deserves to lie in Din’s arms with her eyes closed and feel his breath on the back of her neck (it’s important!), right?..

Words: 2613; gif by me

Special thanks to @hdlynn for the encouragement :**

“Hey, wait! Can you like… Slow down a little?”

You were always impressed at how The Child managed to move so fast with his tiny legs - apparently all children’s superpower. The little one fell down into a huge pile of snow, but it didn’t upset him, only made him coo with excitement as he continued exploring this new and interesting place.

You didn’t quite share his excitement. It was cold, and as much as you found the snow really beautiful, you didn’t feel comfortable about it. It seemed like your lungs weren’t even used to this chilly, frosty air, so different from the warmth of your home planet.

“Well, y/n… you wanted to see the world, didn’t you?..”

You sighed and kept walking. You were responsible for the kid after all. Although you had to admit - you grew really fond of this little green bean, and you’d care for him even if you weren’t paid for that. You knew on the one hand it was mostly just an excuse - The Mandalorian would probably have managed to take care of The Child without your help, but… You needed a job, and he had a kind heart, that was it.

For ages you’ve been working in a cantina on a distant planet. You’ve never left this place before, but you didn’t complain. What you earned was enough to survive and take care of your old parents. It wasn’t always easy to work in a place full of drunken smugglers but you learnt to protect yourself. Steady customers knew and respected you. Mando was among them. He wasn’t one of the drunken smugglers, but he used to drop into the cantina from time to time. He was one of your favorite customers ever, always nice and respectful, you didn’t know his real name and haven’t seen his face but somehow you just knew you could trust him. You had really good conversations. Unlike most of the people you had to deal with every day, when he asked how the things were going, it felt like he really cared, not just said it for the sake of polite small talk. You knew he would help if you needed it… And one day you really needed his help.

You didn’t work on that night and didn’t know exactly what happened, only the stories from your colleagues… Ex-colleagues now… There was a huge drunken fight that led to a fire accident and an explosion. The cantina was destroyed and for now there was no money to fix it. You needed a new job, but couldn’t find it in a small place you lived. When Mando arrived on your planet again, he only found the ruins on the place of the cantina. But thanks to the stars you managed to meet him. You didn’t know who else to ask, and you didn’t even know what exactly to ask for… Maybe he could take you somewhere… anywhere… To some place where finding the job wouldn’t be that hard. You were smart and handy, could cook and clean, you were a fast learner… Mando had to take a moment to think it all over. He couldn’t just simply live you in such a desperate situation. From all he knew, you weren’t a kind of person who often asks for favors. He suggested sharing his bounty with you, but you didn’t agree to that.

“It’s a generous offer, Mando, but I can’t take it just like that. I’m not used to such gifts. I only get paid for the work I do.”

Mando was silent for a while. As you couldn’t see his face, you could only guess what he was thinking about.

“How about working for me than?” He finally said.

And this is how you got here, on this cold snowy planet, looking for the little green kid.

You agreed it was just a temporary job. You’d send a part of your salary to your parents and save the rest; once you collect enough money to start something on your own - you’d go back to your place. Not that Mando had something against you, absolutely not. He just didn’t want you to risk your life travelling with him.

“A bounty hunter’s job isn’t really the best one for a young woman like you,” he told you. “I know you’re brave, smart and can stand up for yourself, but… It’s not always enough.” You weren’t offended by these words as you knew exactly what he meant by them. You’ve never been helpless or timid, but still you used to lead a quiet and peaceful life that was far from a bounty hunters’ lifestyle. So you promised him not to take risks on purpose and just be his helper.

Your main responsibility was, of course, The Child. One of the reasons Mando decided on giving you this job was that you immediately liked each other. The Child was often suspicious of the people he didn’t know, but not with you - you gained his trust with surprising ease.

So far, you actually really enjoyed what you were doing and your new company. For sure you were curious about what Mando was up to when he was away. Maybe you were missing some great adventures? But you kept reminding yourself you weren’t here for this. You were here to help him out, not to be a burden or someone he had to worry about. You already owed him big time.

Yes, so far everything was fine...

...Sometimes though, you felt some strange vibes between you and him. Sometimes the silence between the two of you was becoming awkward. Sometimes you felt the urge to touch him, maybe like… Lay your head on his shoulder as you were sitting beside him… Show your affection somehow. Sometimes you thought this desire was mutual. As the days passed, you inevitably were becoming closer, and you wished you could just see his eyes, his expression when he spoke to you. You tried to chase away these thoughts because Mando clearly wasn’t looking for romance. Neither did you, initially… But sometimes you just couldn’t help it.

Anyway, right now Mando was away, and the kid for some reason was desperate to go for an evening walk, so you followed him wrapping yourself up in a parka. The cold wind and frosty air didn’t bring you much joy at all. The Child didn’t seem to care, all he wanted to do was exploring.

“Hey, kiddo! I said wait for me!”

Suddenly you felt something cracking underneath your foot. A gasp escaped your lips as you realized you were standing on ice that covered a surface of some lake or pond. And the ice didn’t seem thick enough to actually walk on it…

“Sweetheart…” you breathed out. The Child sensed the anxious notes in your voice and turned to you, tilting his head in confusion.

“Okay… now come here… carefully…” The kid obeyed and you felt relieved as you extended your hands to grab him. When you shifted a little, moving towards him, the thin ice cracked again, and…

Everything happened way too fast: you grabbed the little one and made a step back, when the icy surface broke underneath you. Instinctively, you pushed The Child away and he fell in a snow pile on the lake shore. You tried to grip onto something, but there was nothing except the cracking ice, and the lake was suddenly deep. One second and you got under water almost completely, you came to the surface flouncing and gasping for air, trying hard to get out, but the ice just kept breaking under your hands.

The Child looked scared, he was about to rush to you, but you stopped him.

“NO! STAY AWAY FROM THE ICE!!!”

The last thing you needed right now was the kid getting into the water with you. You needed to hold onto something, but you couldn’t find a thing. Panic started to overwhelm you. Suddenly The Child stretched his little hand out in your direction. For a second nothing happened, and then you felt like something was holding you, tugging you out of the water. Apparently the little one possessed some kind of a superpower… Maybe it was The Force, which you heard about from some visitors of your cantina?.. You weren’t sure he’d manage to lift you up from the water completely but he definitely was helping.

“Y/n!”

That’s when you heard the sound of a familiar voice.

“Mando! Careful!”

For a moment you got scared he might step on the ice as well, but he stopped right at the brim.

“Y/n, give me your hand! Come on!”

Clenching your teeth with a desperate grunt you jerked up from the water and managed to grab his hand. His grip was firm and tight as he pulled you out of the water into his arms.

“M-mando, I… Th-thank you…” you practically sobbed into his chest, your body trembling violently as he held you.

“I’m here, y/n, I’m here. All is fine now,” his voice sounded so soothing through the modulator, but as the adrenaline rush was fading, you realized how cold you were. Freezing, terribly cold. You’ve never been that cold in your entire life.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.”

──────── • ✤ • ────────

Thankfully, you hadn’t gone too far from the ship. The Child passed out in Mando’s arms on the way, and he had to put the little one in his crib before getting back to you.

“You need to take this off.”

Chattering your teeth with cold you fumbled with the zipper with no success - you could hardly feel your fingers, and you were still shaking. But The Mandalorian was here for you. He quickly unzipped and tugged off your wet and heavy parka; your sweater, undershirt, pants and boots followed.

“There you go,” he murmured, undressing you. It felt weird being around him exposed like that only wearing your damp underwear, but it certainly wasn’t the time to get shy. Your nakedness soon was covered with a warm blanket, as he wrapped it around your frame, rubbing your shoulders to warm you up. He took off his gloves and grabbed your hands in his, gently chafing your skin until you finally managed to move your fingers.

The realization hit you all of a sudden - it was the first time ever you touched Mando’s bare skin. You’ve been travelling with him for a while already, so you happened to see him without armor. The only thing he was always wearing in your presence was the helmet; other parts of the armor weren’t that important, as far as you knew. But you’ve never had a skin to skin contact of any kind… Until now. And that’s why this simple, innocent gesture felt suddenly intimate. Mando probably realized that too as he slightly drew away from you.

“I’ll… Get you something warm to drink.”

──────── • ✤ • ────────

Still wrapped in the blanket you curled up on your cot. It was slowly getting better. When Mando came back in a couple of minutes with some herbal tea from your thermos, you even managed to get into a sitting position. Your hands were still shaky though, so he had to bring the drink to your lips.

“Better?” he asked as you made a couple of sips.

“Yeah,” you nodded, curling underneath the blanket again. “I-I’ll be fine, really. There’s no need to worry.”

He tilted his head to the side, observing you. Somehow you could feel concern even without seeing his expression.

“You’re still trembling,” he stated, before stepping out of your sight. He didn’t leave the room though. You heard the metal clatter of beskar - he was taking the armor off, you guessed, and the memory of his big hand on yours flashed in your brain.

"M-Mando, you don't have to..."

"It's okay," The Mandalorian said quietly, as he reached the blanket. You shifted a little, allowing him to lie beside you, spooning you from behind. Wrapping his arms around you carefully, he pulled you a bit closer against his chest, and you flinched, wincing as you felt the cold steel of his helmet against the back of your neck. It seemed like the beskar has taken in the frost from outside - it was almost as cold as ice. Mando realized that too. You could hear him sighing through the modulator.

"Y/n..."

"Yes?.."

"I'm gonna take it off, but you must promise me not to open your eyes and not to turn your head in my direction. Will you do that?"

"I will," you breathed out. "I… know how it's important for you. You know you can trust me, Mando."

"I do.”

You wanted to tell him how grateful you were and how you actually cherished his trust and your… Friendship? Relationship? Whatever kind of bond you shared, but you couldn’t even put it into words. His closeness made you suddenly emotional, especially when you felt warm breath instead of cold metal against your skin. Your eyes were shut tightly and at that moment you were afraid not only to move but to breathe. Somehow you were scared to ruin the fragile intimacy of this moment as Mando enclosed you in his arms again.

“Try to relax, okay?”

His voice sounded foreign without the modulator; familiar, but still different, bare and exposed. You weren’t sure if it’s possible to use such words to describe a voice, but that’s how you felt. You loved the sound of it. Letting out a deep trembling sigh, you relaxed against his frame, finally feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his undershirt. All stress caused by the lake accident was slowly ebbing away in the comfort of his embrace, but there was something else that kept bothering you.

“Mando…” you whispered quietly, “I’m sorry…”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I failed you. My job is to look after The Child, and I failed and got in trouble. I… should’ve been more careful, I know…”

“Hey,” he cut you off, “Things like that happen sometimes, y/n. No one can be perfect. Even if you try hard, sometimes… Sometimes you just lose your footing on the thin ice.”

You heard him chuckling softly at his own metaphor; warm breath tickled the back of your neck.

“I was supposed to help, but only caused more problems instead,” you murmured bitterly.

“Y/n, stop that. You’re helping. A lot. And I…” he paused for a second as if pondering the words, “I’m really glad to have you around.”

This simple confession made your heart skip a beat. There still was a lot you wanted to tell him, to let him know, but you were lost for words. Although... maybe you didn’t have to say it, because he already knew.

“Thank you,” you just mumbled, “For everything, really.”

He didn’t answer, probably being lost for words as well. But you felt him nuzzling into your hair for a moment, a soft gesture full of unspoken tenderness, and it was enough.

“Sleep now,” he hushed, shifting behind you to find more comfortable position. You hummed in reply, already feeling drowsy as the warmth spread over you, calm and safe, cradled against The Mandalorian’s firm chest.

You wished this night to last longer, because you knew you wouldn’t find him beside you as you wake up. You’d find him already wide awake and fully dressed, with the helmet back on, ready for another adventure. But for now he was right here, closer than ever. Real, warm, human. And maybe it meant nothing at all. But it might as well be the beginning of something.

──────── • ✤ • ────────

Thanks for reading!

Hugs, Lucy

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal #fluff #lucy tries to write

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feminaexlux · 4 years

Text

Branded

It’s the @lukanette-exchange fic! After a long while it’s here!! @kingsglaivian I hope you enjoy! Also thanks to LBSC and @quickspinner in particular for finding the cool soulmark prompt lol

I am super, super excited to share this with you!

Original prompts: “childhood friends AU, soulmate AU, and an AU of the exchangee's choice.”

∴

It’d been just a few minutes after they first met when she first wrote her name on him.

She had come closer and stared over his shoulder when she saw he’d been drawing something. Was it a drawing? It looked like he had been drawing circles on a bunch of lines. Oh, Maman had showed her how music was written, it was music! “Hi! Are you drawing music?” She had asked cheerfully.

The boy had startled, apparently not having seen Marinette earlier. His pencil had marked across the entire page. “Aah!”

“Oh no!” Marinette whined. “You messed up!”

“Y-you made me do that,” he frowned. “You scared me.”

“Are you drawing music?” Marinette continued asking.

“Oh, yeah, yeah I am,” he said, turning the pencil around and erasing the errant mark. “I think about music all the time.”

“So what does that mean?” she asked, poking at his paper.

“That’s uh… that's…” he thought a bit. “I think that’s D and the next one is F and another D but this one’s higher. It’s a song from a video game.”

“You play video games?! Papa and I play games too!”

They talked back and forth about a bunch of different little things and he completely forgot what he’d been doing. Then it got to the point where Marinette had pulled out one of her markers and started writing her name on his arm. “– and if stays tomorrow it means you found your true love!” Marinette smiled up at the boy she’d been talking to. He looked like he was a few years older. Maybe he was even 10? Maybe he was younger, he looked really kinda small to be 10.

She was at the playground next to her family’s bakery. She’d been running around and playing with a few other kids there, but she saw this one boy sitting by a tree in the shade. He looked like he was alone and Marinette wondered if he’d been bullied. She knew what that was like, even at the tender age of 5. But it was easy to talk to this boy, he was much less Crazy Mean Boy than Kim was. He was more like Nino! And Nino was nice.

“Is that your name?” the boy asked, staring at her neatly written letters. “Marinette?”

“Yeah!”

“So if it stays tomorrow you’re my true love?” He asked, confused. “Mom told me that writing names on other people is bad… But why?”

“Maman and Papa have their names on each other’s arms,” Marinette said. “It’s not bad! Oh but you have to draw over it ‘cause it’s important that you do it,” Marinette added.

“Why?”

“It’s important,” she clarified. It looked like he was going to keep asking why until his mom called out.

“Ay laddie, it’s time to go,” a lady with a long braid said in their general direction. She had a girl on her hip and was walking over to the boy. “Why hello there lass, are ye makin’ friends with me boy?”

“I’m Marinette,” she said up to the lady. She wasn’t Lass, she wanted to say.

Marinette saw the boy quickly pull down his sleeves from his hoodie to hide her name. “Itwasnicetomeetyoubye,” he said quickly, before Marinette could whine about him hiding her name. He ran away to hold onto his mom’s hand. “Let’s go mom,” he continued, pulling his mom away in a slightly embarrassed fashion.

“Don’t ye want to say farewell? We won’t be ashore fer a while son.” Well, she didn’t know at the time he had wanted to run away and hide so the nice new girl wouldn’t be weirded out by his mom like most people were.

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette yelled after him.

She didn’t.

∴

It’d been just a few days after they first met.

Luka scrubbed and scrubbed at the M on his wrist but it wasn’t coming out. He’d scrubbed himself raw at the sink, his flesh feeling tender and his skin close to bleeding. He’d written over the girl’s marker with a pen a few days ago, idly curious if the mark would stay. At least he’d written over just the M, thinking about the nice girl who’d been curious about him.

“Luka?” He heard his mom call out. No, no, no. It wasn’t coming out and his mom would see it and she’d freak out and he’d have to make an excuse or find some of her makeup or something. He’d been told to take off his hoodie by… that man and so he ran back to the bathroom to try to do something about the M on his wrist.

Anarka opened the door. “Luka, my boy what are ye–” Oh no oh no she saw the mark. He put his hands back in the sink and kept scrubbing, starting to cry. “Luka what…” His mom started, initially alarmed and then… and then she came over to hug him.

“Mom what do I do?” He cried. “It’s not coming out!”

“Who'd… no, it doesn’t matter. Luka stop doing that, it’s not going to come out. It doesn’t, lad.” His mom took his hands from the sink and started to dry them. “It stays no matter how hard ye try to get rid o’ it.” She spoke to him with the rare moment of solemnity. “Ye'e been Branded, and there’s nothin we can do about it.”

“I don’t wanna be Branded!” he wailed.

In a quiet, heated hiss Anarka whispered “This is why I told ye to never write names on yerself!” She looked at her son crying and sighed, shaking her head. Luka would realize later she’d been more disappointed in herself that she’d let him get Branded like he did. She thought she warned him, but how could she blame him for something no one ever thought would happen at 7 years old?

Who finds their soulmate at 7?

But it’d be a shackle for the rest of his life. Luka would grow up wondering if this M would ever be part of his life again, whether M would even want to be his partner. If he did find someone else to be his partner, they’d wonder if they’d ever be loved like whoever this M was. “Here,” Anarka sighed. “Ye can’t get rid of that Luka. But ye can cover it. Forget about it now, lad,” she said gently, taking off the wide leather cuff she had on that had covered her own Brand. “This 'ere’s yers now. I’ll get ye all freshened up. Granpa’s waitin for us,” Anarka said, pasting on a fake smile.

Luka hated that man. He was angry and hateful and mean, but Anarka had wanted to see her own Ma again, to have her Ma help guide Anarka in the raising of two children Anarka never originally planned to have. Granma was nice. But Granpa? No. Luka swore to himself he’d never be like Granpa.

His mom put the cuff around Luka’s Brand, looping twice to fit the small wrist better. “All covered up now. Is that fitting, Luka?” He nodded, staring at the “S” on his mom’s wrist.

“Was… that dad?” Luka asked, pointing at the Brand.

Anarka laughed. “It stands for Scotland,” she said lightly. “It stands for the Sea. It’s not yer da, no,” Anarka lied.

∴

It’d been a few weeks since Marinette met Adrien Agreste.

She’d been convinced Adrien was her True Love, and was continually disappointed every morning when his name disappeared off of her arm. “Tikki, it disappeared again,” Marinette sighed.

Tikki shrugged. “Maybe he’s not ready?” The Kwami had seen this before. The Brands were a form of magic that humans had that linked two souls together, signaling that they’d found their soul’s mate. A person would have to write another’s True Name on themselves somewhere, and it would disappear at sunrise if it wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes, though, it depended on if the other person was even capable of loving back. A Brand that had disappeared earlier might “take” later, when the soulmate was ready.

Tikki wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for Marinette that Adrien wasn’t capable of loving Marinette back yet. Maybe Adrien had a different name? The kwami wasn’t going to put forth the suggestion that it might not be Adrien at all. Marinette seemed convinced, and Tikki knew better than to doubt her bearers.

Marinette’s parents proudly wore the names they had on their arms, a very simple “Tom” on Sabine’s wrist and a beautifully formed script of “Sabine” scrawled across Tom’s massive forearm. Of course it simply encouraged Marinette into writing several names on her own arms throughout the years, even if most people found writing names on themselves taboo.

Recently, though, it’d just been Adrien’s.

None of the attempts ever stuck.

“It’ll happen one day!” Tikki said cheerfully. “I believe that you’ll find your soulmate one day. But right now you should get ready for school!”

∴

It’d been a few months after Juleka showed him that the picture curse was broken that he met the girl that’d been able to break it.

“I’m Ma-ma-ma-Marinette!”

He’d laughed a little and it hurt her feelings. Good job, Luka, that was a great first impression. Luckily he was able to apologize and smooth it over.

It tickled him, just a little bit, that he’d met another “M” in his life that he actually ended up liking. He ended up liking her a whole lot, which… ultimately kinda sucked because she’d been interested in someone else. Well, that was alright. He’d been used to the idea that he’d never find “the one” since he technically already had and lost them so many years ago.

But this one? This “M”? She was pretty cool and he found himself more interested than he’d ever been in anyone before.

There’d been one other “M” in his life a couple of years ago before his mom decided to move them all back to France, and Paris in particular. Her name had been Meryl and she was a pretty awesome girl, but she’d been several years older and already in University. She’d still given Luka some attention though, apparently finding it cute that she had a boy doting on her like he did. She was nice and she said he’d look good with some blue in his hair, and it’d been the last thing she said to him before she found herself her own soulmate. It hadn’t been Luka, of course.

He’d gotten into a fight with Granpa over his hair after Luka had dyed it. Juleka joined him by dying her hair purple. Anarka had finally had enough of her and her kids being put down and said she was going to go back “home”. It’d been a hard conversation with Granpa, but after Granma had passed Anarka and her kids had little reason to stick around in their Scottish family house. Anarka’s little wildlings were less little, and Juleka and Luka were both in their tweens to teens, largely old enough to handle themselves now.

Anarka had found some nearly-derelict fishing barge and spent a few weeks with her kids fixing up the ship, making it their new house, and they left Scotland as soon as they could. She sailed the newly christened Liberty back into Parisian waters, claiming the Seine as her new home. She gave a little wink to Luka, a nod to the new “S” in Anarka’s life that her Brand now represented.

It’d been good to see his mom coming back into her old self, the wild, chaotic, free spirit that she’d always been. He was no longer embarrassed of her like he’d been so many years ago. And he had to be honest to himself, the boat wasn’t the first choice he’d make in having a place to come home to, but something about Paris just felt right.

Juleka had been feeling better too. The younger Couffaines had been under their Granpa’s oppressive shadow for too long. And now they were slowly discovering more of themselves over time.

Rose was one of the first friends Juleka had made after coming back to Paris a few years ago, and they were “best friends” since. Today, Juleka showed him a neatly written “Rose” in a flourishing script on the back of her right hand. Juleka apparently hadn’t minded getting the Brand at all. “Marinette did this too,” Juleka smiled. “She’s been drawing names for people who ask. It’s so cool,” Juleka mumbled.

“She’s amazing,” Luka said out loud. Jules gave him a look and even he couldn’t figure out what it meant. “What?”

“She’s got eyes on Adrien, you know.”

“I’ve heard your schemes, I know.”

“I’m on team Adrienette.”

“Alright.”

“She deserves to be happy.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’d be weird if you two dated, anyway.”

“But we’re not dating. She doesn’t seem to notice me.”

Jules frowned at that and grumbled something that sounded to Luka like “she notices and it’s weird.”

He thought to himself, Not where it matters.

∴

It’d been a year since Adrien lost his mother, and Marinette finally said the words “I love you” to him.

Yes, it was a video recording and yes, Felix had apparently gone through and deleted it before Adrien ever got to see it, but she’d done it! She’d done the thing! She could do it again! It had to be easier the second time, right? The second… time.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. It’d been nearly a full year of her attempting Adrien’s name on her arm, and nothing changed. She’d stayed up and watched it fade out when the sunlight hit it during a few fitful mornings. She wrote his name so often it stopped looking like a word and more like a familiar pattern. Just shapes and no meaning.

Marinette had tried out a few different names over the year as well, just so she’d be certain… in a slightly unsettling way. She kept it discreet, writing on her ankle or in another place easy to cover up in case it was… taking. She’d written “Nathaniel”, once. It disappeared. She’d written “Chat Noir” and nearly sighed in relief (and maybe deep down in slight surprise) when it disappeared. Not that it was his real name anyway.

She’d secretly tried “Nino” once, even though he and Alya had gotten together. It hadn’t stuck. Nino and Alya hadn’t asked for Marinette to write each other’s names down, and maybe… maybe that was actually healthy? Like they didn’t need any external validation in order to really enjoy time spent with each other.

There might have been a lesson in that.

She tried “Kim” and “Wayhem” and “Theo”, even though the last one kinda creeped her out a bit. She tried “Kagami.” Nothing stuck.

There was still one name she hadn’t tried but… but she’d been absolutely terrified of it. Luka had more or less admitted to the world at large that he loved her after he’d gotten akumatized. There’d been genuine affection that was unfiltered, unbiased, uninfluenced by whatever the magic was that made names stay on people. He didn’t seem to mind that she was so, so into Adrien. Even if she wasn’t his soulmate, he’d love her.

S-So she’d be able to do that for Adrien! Yes, that made sense. Yes, that soulmate stuff was all kid fantasy anyway. Even if it was demonstratively real.

But if Adrien found his soulmate and it wasn’t Marinette… what was she supposed to do? Just step out of the way?

∴

It’d been a decade since Marinette and Luka first met except neither remembered that first time when they were young children, even if they’d been in the same place: the park nearby the bakery.

He’d held onto her as she broke down crying about the heartbreak and how tired she was. Luka told her he’d listen and be there and hadn’t lied about any of it. It was why she chose to sit next to him after letting her infatuation go and stepping out of the way for Kagami, watching Adrien and Kagami have their Sweetheart’s ice cream together like it was always meant to be Adrien and Kagami instead of Adrien and Marinette.

Marinette chose to sit next to Luka instead of going home.

She went to bed that night deciding that the whole names and soulmates and True Love thing was just a big huge distraction from what she really needed to focus on, which was getting through school, defeating Hawkmoth, and getting her name out there as an up and coming Fashion Designer!

It lasted all of 3 days until she finally gave into her curiosity and wrote an L in the crook of her left arm before going to bed. She really had meant to write out the rest of his name, but then her phone buzzed and there’d been an akuma alert. She sighed and rolled into action.

Her Lucky Charm gave her a guitar pick. That was a little too on-the-nose, Tikki? Ladybug zipped over to the Liberty, somehow not surprised that Luka was still up and leaning against the Liberty to overlook the Seine, looking cool and thoughtful. Actually, scratch that. He looked a little haggard and worried, and he’d been expecting to see Ladybug. Well, at least it meant she didn’t have to go in and wake him up.

“… you must return the Miraculous after…” Ladybug trailed off, noticing as Luka reached out to take the bracelet that he hadn’t been wearing any of the normal… accessories he chose to wear most of the time, most notably the leather cuff he usually had on. Something bothered her and she caught his hand before he touched the bracelet. She turned his right hand over and looked at the pen mark on his wrist. “Is that an M or an E?”

Luka pulled back his hand immediately, embarrassed. “An… M,” he said reluctantly.

Then Ladybug remembered it’d been incredibly rude of her to ask. “Oh, I’m so sorry I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It's… been 10 years since I got that, I don’t even remember much about it,” he shrugged.

Ladybug smiled, biting back a sudden urge to scream, and offered Luka the snake Miraculous again. “If you agree… I’d like your help, Luka.”

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Viperion were able to save the night and have everyone able to go to bed on time. She picked the Miraculous back up from Viperion, who seemed to be confused the akuma victim wasn’t who he’d expected it to be. “Anything wrong, Luka?”

“No… no, I’m glad I was able to help. I’m okay,” he said, clearly still a bit frazzled. Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows at him and he eventually sighed. “I guess I’m worried about a… friend. She’d been going through a lot so I’d been… I’d been waiting to see if she’d either call me or… or God, I don’t know,” he laughed, a little bit in disbelief. “I almost thought she’d been akumatized tonight. I’m so glad it wasn’t her. But it kinda makes me feel like crap for even thinking that.”

“It’s kind to be worried about your friend. W-Which friend by the way?” Ladybug asked. “I could pay her a visit if you’d like?”

“I don’t know if she’d appreciate that, actually,” he sighed. “She can kill me later if she wants, but yeah it’d be great if you’d check up on her. It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Instead of being worried that Luka was worried over her, she asked “Is she your M?” Ladybug got blindsided by her own question, but she only felt the impact and implication after she asked it. “Oh no, no, I’m so sorry I’ve been so rude.”

He blew out a breath. “I wish,” he mumbled. “I don’t know,” he said, his tiredness making him slightly more obvious about being miserable. “I guess I could know for sure by writing out her name.” That was said like he had been convinced it’d disappear…

“I’m pretty good at writing out names. If you want I could write… the rest of her name out on your arm?” Ladybug offered impulsively.

“… Sure,” he agreed. He watched her as she grabbed a nearby marker and wrote out Marinette on his arm. “Wow, that… looks pretty dead on to her signature.”

“Pfft,” Ladybug laughed. “That’d be the worst identity reveal ever. Marinette’s signed a few things for me too, I’ll have you know.”

“You might have a future in crime with your forging skills if you ever decide to stop being a hero,” Luka chuckled.

“I’ll stick to saving Paris, don’t worry,” Ladybug giggled. “You do have to write over it yourself if you want it to stay. I mean… if she is… you know…”

Luka nodded. “I know. Probably a long shot. Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll check up on her. Thank you for caring, Luka,” Ladybug smiled. “And you know, I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” she said quietly, biting her lip while tapping his arm. “I’ll be off. Have a good night, 'Bug out!”

Ladybug landed in her bed and detransformed. Tikki floated back to her little nesting spot while the kwami watched Marinette pull out her phone.

hey luka just got a visit from LB! thanks for thinking of me

Marinette looked down into the crook of her arm, grabbing a marker and filling out the rest of Luka’s name. She’d recognized that M on his arm.

Had it really been 10 years when she first met him? It was kind of funny that she didn’t remember until now. He hadn’t given his name back then but she remembered the disappointment the next day when her new friend didn’t show.

Had it really been a whole year of writing… the wrong name on herself?

It’d been months since Luka told her she’d been the melody in his head. Months.

And she had spent a week in heartbreak over the wrong boy.

It’d just been a few days since she decided she was going to let Adrien go. And she found her soulmate after that? How lucky was she? Marinette looked up at the sleeping Tikki and squinted suspiciously. Maybe she was Lucky™, except that she had apparently met Luka when she was 5.

Marinette stared at her phone, watching the minutes go by. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

The sun rose after an agonizingly boring time of rolling back and forth in her bed, too excited to go to sleep but too tired to do anything productive. She kept checking the name on her arm and it’d still been there all throughout the night, but now at first light… she was… scared. She closed her eyes and covered her head with her pillow, half dreading what she’d see if she looked down at her left arm where she wrote his name.

“It’ll be there,” she said to herself, feeling more certain of that than anything. The warmth of sunlight hit her left arm. She lifted the pillow off of her face but kept her eyes closed. Slowly she opened one eye.

His name was still there. “It’s you,” she whispered, feeling the tears fall from her eyes.

She launched herself out of bed, turning into a little hurricane of activity. She threw her jacket on and ran downstairs, kissing her Maman and Papa on the cheek and telling them she’d be out for a while. They’d been too surprised to see her up at the crack of dawn to complain much, just insisting that she take her phone with her and that she wear proper shoes.

She ran down to the subway entrance and guessed the nearest station where Liberty would be moored, taking the subway train there. She emerged from an entrance about 10 minutes later, ignoring the confused looks the other commuters shot her since she’d been a mess of pigtails and pajamas. She ran toward the Liberty, climbed up and leapt over the railing onto the ship when she saw that the gangplank wasn’t extended.

“Marinette!” she heard Luka’s alarmed shout. She knew he’d be up. She knew it! He ran over to her. “What the heck–” He’d been wearing a different hoodie, a long sleeved one that covered up both his arms. She frowned at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“S-So are you! And you’re-you’re here? What’s wrong?” His voice had dropped from a high pitched panic to his deeper, concerned tone in the span of two words.

She took off her jacket and extended her left arm. She saw him flush but start pulling up his hoodie from the hem, taking it off and tossing it aside. He turned his right palm up to show her the name written across his forearm.

Their names had stayed. He breathed out. “Did Ladyb–” She cut him off, her hands on either side of his face to pull him down, planting a kiss on his lips. They pulled back a second after, looking at one another in surprise.

“It’s you,” she said, resting her forehead against his shoulder. To be honest she’d been embarrassed that she’d just kissed him in the disheveled state she was in, having left to see him as soon as she got out of bed, but she felt giddy and… right.

He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tight. “And… it’s you.”

#marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette endgame #soulmarks #fxl fic #lukanette exchange 2020 #lukanette #endgame lukanette

71 notes · View notes

acciocrzychickfics · 3 years

Text

Happy

Author’s Note: I wrote this a while ago actually and I have been struggling if I should make this public or not. I guess its now or never. The setting is post-war. I don’t know why but I have this feeling that the Order was never really disbanded, it was kind of like a watchdog type organization after the war.

Adjusting his eyes to the dark was never a hard thing for Remus to get the hang of. However, adjusting his ears to the crying of his son took him awhile. He was always the first to wake up to little Teddy’s cries. He chalked this up to his keen sense of hearing. Rolling over in bed, he saw Dora sleeping soundly. She had been through the wringer at work these past few weeks. She needed her sleep and he knew it. He kissed her forehead and went to the small room he had magicked when she was pregnant to let her know that while he was still unsure about if his lycanthropy would be hereditary or not, they would get through this together.

“Are you hungry, little cub?” he asks, picking up the small blue-haired baby who was now smiling up at him as he walks into the kitchen.

At first, he had struggled with these midnight feedings especially if Dora had to do a night shift for the Order or had to an all-nighter at the Ministry. Not understanding how such a small child could eat so much. He finally broke down and apparated to Andy’s in the middle of the night with a wailing Teddy. He had done everything to try and get him to calm down but once he put Teddy in his grandmother’s arms he quieted now.

“You know, you are going to be a charmer when you get into school. Don’t tell your Mum but I charmed a girl or two in my time.” Remus exclaims trying to calm his two-month-old son down while using a warming spell to heat the bottle, chuckling then adding “She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.”

Teddy gurgles as the bottle is placed on his lips and latches on unsure how he likes this “I know it’s not the same as when Mum does it.”

Sitting down in the rocking chair in the living room, Remus begins to read to his son that his mother would read to him as a small child. “Where we were, little cub? Ah yes, Chapter 3. They did not sing or tell stories that day, even though the weather improved. They began to feel the danger was far away on d either side.”

Until four or five pages later did he notice, that Teddy had fallen back to sleep and the bottle had been drained.

“I never expected to fall in love. I never expected to marry, let alone your mother. I never expected to have children. Never in my life did I ever expect to have an amazing son like you. Teddy Lupin, I. Love. You. One day, I will have to be honest with you about why I left. I regret that immensely and am unsure I ever will forgive myself for that. However, know I missed your mother and you the entire time I was gone. I thought that you both were better off without me in case you did inherit my furry little problem. Just know, no matter what I love you with all my heart and will do my best to provide for you no matter what. I can not guarantee your life will be easy with having a werewolf as a father.”

“I have a feeling Teddy will be very defensive if anyone talks bad about his father” he hears from behind him. Standing up, he sees Dora standing in the doorway of the lounge smiling. “I will also keep anyone in line who talks ill about my mate.”

“You should be in bed” Remus answers concern lacing his face as he holds Teddy in his arms letting the bottle fall from Teddy’s lips.

“You should have woken me up, I would have fed him,” Tonks exclaims in frustration, now holding her breasts. “My boobs hurt.”

“I am sorry” Remus answers quietly going slightly scarlet “I should have realized.”

“ It is only natural and it is nutrients for our son. No need to be embarrassed, Rem” Tonks answers back motioning to her breasts “There is a spell I can use to get the milk out of these. Mind if I hold him?”

Remus transfers Teddy to her arms as he squirms in her arms “It is alright, little cub. Mummy is here.” It was as if hearing her voice calmed him down as he snuggled into her arms.

Kissing Tonk’s head, then Teddy’s whispering “I love you both”, he pulls out his wand to whisper “scourgify” to clean up the mess he made in their kitchen.

“I would have just left it in the morning.” Tonks yawns walking back into their bedroom to put Teddy down in his crib as he changes his hair color to bubblegum pink “Have you noticed he changes his hair color depending on who is holding him?”

Lupin smirks, not realizing that he did indeed change his color to brown when his father was holding him. “Now that you say that when Any was over, he changed his hair color to dark brown.”

“I think that is his way of letting us know that he knows the difference between us,” Tonks replies yawning again.

“Dora, you need to go back to bed.” Lupin reiterates “You are going to be exhausted come tomorrow.”

She sighs trying to come up with an excuse trying to hold her son as much as she can “I just want to hold him. I just want to hold him in my arms and not let him go. I feel like a bad mother because I am working all the time.”

“Dora, come here.” Remus motions towards the bed, picking up his son and placing him in his bassinet next to the bed, “Teddy will be fine for a couple minutes in his crib.”

Glancing at Teddy once and then looking back to his wife, “Darling, you are in no way a bad mother because you work. You are creating a better world for our son. A better future for him to grow up in. A better world for both of us to raise our son in.”

“I just am afraid I will miss him growing up.” Tonks begins to say before Remus puts a finger to her lips.

“He is only two months old, Dora.” Remus responds “Maybe you can talk to Kingsley about creating a hybrid work schedule so that you can be home but also in a time of need, you can be in the office? I am sure both of you will be able to come up with something that will be applicable.”

Tonks bit her lip “I guess, I think I’ll sleep on it”

“I also think you need to sleep. Your hair is turning its natural color again” Remus reiterates calmly putting a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

Tonks walks out of the fireplace as her mother is feeding Teddy and Remus is cooking lunch.

“Nymphadora, why are you here? It is only one” Andromeda asks as she puts Teddy down in his swing.

“I am home for the rest of the day” Tonks answers smiling the biggest smile she has had in weeks.

“Did you talk to Kingsley?” Lupin asks grabbing some bowls from the cabinet. Walking up to him, she gives him a peck on the cheek.

“I did,” Tonks replies pulling herself up on the kitchen counter swinging her legs. “We agreed that I would be on something called hybrid maternity leave. Since my full maternity leave was up about a month ago, I will be going to work every other day. On the days I am not on the job, he will or another Auror will be updating me.”

Remus hands her a bowl of soup smiling, “That is wonderful, Dora.”

“I have other news about you, my dear” addressing Remus looking back at him. “I heard a rumor, that you will be asked to take back your post at Hogwarts.”

“What? Me?” Remus questions trying not to make his disbelief show on his face.

“Yep, Kingsley was talking to Harry and Minerva when I walked into his office. I can not help that I have learned some skills from a certain werewolf” Tonks answers him as he hugs her forgetting about the soup in her hands.

“I am guessing they do not believe that I know,” Remus asks realizing that she had the soup in her hands

“Oh, I have a feeling that they will notify sooner rather than later” Tonks smiles glancing out the window as an owl flies towards them.

#remadora #acciocrazychickfics #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #dora lupin #teddy lupin #andromeda tonks #post war fic #hp fanfiction #remadora fanfiction

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charbax · 4 years

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In The Woods Somewhere

The aftermath of a hunt, and a bond forged in the dark. A Striktor mythical au inspired by Speck’s posts here and here.

A/N: I wrote this two years ago, forgot about it, then dusted it off and decided to finish it just in time for halloween!! Gosh I miss writing these two.

Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

AO3 link here!

The thirst was the first thing Strix was aware of - it ached in his throat and stomach, carving out something hollow. His tongue darted out and licked dry lips, and he swallowed, trying to wet his mouth.

The next thing he was aware of was the barn ceiling above him. Strange. He usually didn't rest in buildings so close to people- The thought sent a bolt of fear through his heart. He sat up suddenly, then regretted the action immediately afterwards when his head spun. A hand gripped his shoulder, steadying him. "Hey, easy there." A familiar voice said. Instantly, Strix's guard lowered, if only by a minuscule amount. Something pressed against his lips. "It's not blood." Viktor explained. "Just water, drink it slowly." Strix accepted it nonetheless, placing a hand over Viktor's to control the slow trickle of liquid. It wasn't enough to fully alleviate his thirst, but at least the ache subsided to something manageable, something he could think past. Once he was done, he asked, "Where?" "The barn just outside of town. You passed out after we drove the knife into the monster. I carried you here. Well, I wanted to bring you to a real bed but," Viktor frowned. "Apparently killing a monster and saving their children wasn't enough for a decent room. The economy is in shambles." He emphasised the last part with a weak grin. Strix snorted in amusement. Viktor continued. "How're you holding up?" Strix's whole body ached, and had him wishing he was asleep again, but he soldiered on. "Tired, mostly." "Want some alone time so you can sleep?" "...not really." Strix admitted. He leaned back, holding the cup in his lap. "I want to know what happened when I was asleep." And so Viktor told him - after he had passed out, Viktor carried him all way out of the winding caves and back to town, where they had been greeted warmly by the townspeople, who were holding torches, and pitchforks ("I'm being sarcastic," Viktor clarified with an exaggerated whisper). According to the them, they recognised a vampire when they saw an unconscious one, and had prepared if Viktor was underneath its thrall. Luckily, the head of the monster was proof enough to convince that they were harmless, but even so, the townfolk were suspicious of the vampire, the one responsible for the disappearances of the children. "After that, I headed back to your home, where the children were." Viktor raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry. It was the only way to convince people not to burn you while they had a chance. After all, kidnapping's still kidnapping, even if it was to keep them safe." Strix winced as he looked at his lap, but didn't deny it. A hand covered his own. "Hey." Viktor continued. "Once they saw their children safe, they warmed up pretty fast. The village leader just wants to talk to you." "...alright." Strix said. "Right. Be right back." Viktor got up and ducked outside. Strix spent the next few minutes sipping his water and thinking about slipping out of the window while he had the chance. But Viktor's face flashed in his mind. So he only nervously tapped his fingers against the cup and waited. A while later, Viktor returned with the elder in tow. Straightened up, trying to keep his face blank and non-threatening, as if he was just another person and not a creature of the night. "Hello." The elder greeted. At least he wasn't carrying a pitchfork, small blessings. "I believe you were the one who stole the babes from their cribs." For the second time in a short period, Strix avoided the gazes in the room. He looked into his cup and tried not to let shame rise hot to his cheeks. "But you kept them safe from the true monster, so I suppose that explains it." The elder continued. "I wasn't going to keep them forever." Strix began. "Until it moved on. My strength is nothing against the monster's own." "That answered my next question. Was that why you did not go after it yourself?" "My presence cloaked the kids. If I died trying to kill it, then it would come after them." The elder stared at him, impassively, his face giving nothing away. Strix tried not to squirm underneath the slightly narrowed eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor cross his arms and subtly inch closer to Strix. How relieving it was, to have someone like Viktor on his side, Strix supposed. Finally, the village head nodded, seemingly placated. "I understand. You may rest here for a three days as thanks, then take your leave. The others were already fearful of the monster. Do not make them fearful of the child-taker as well.” Strix nodded mutely. The elder gave one more stern look, then took his leave. Viktor turned to him with a grin. "See? Nothing to be worried about." He said. Strix grunted, agreement or disagreement, discretion to the listener. He leaned back onto his makeshift bed - a cloth over some hay, now that he could feel it scratch underneath him - and closed his eyes. "You have plans after this?" He asks, chest lighter now that the main threat was gone. "No idea. Probably head east, to the coast. Then who knows?" Strix hummed thoughtfully. Of course. Viktor seemed the type to be a roamer, no home, no past to weigh him down, a lone wolf borne of man. After all, that's how they met – on a job. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what Strix was trying to himself since they’ve entered that cave. Seemingly having nothing else to add, Viktor leaned back into his chair and gazed out the window. And since Strix had seemingly nothing else to reply, he let comfortable silence fall over them. Strix continued watching Strix, and wondered what jobs would await Viktor. It didn’t occur to him to think about what he himself was going to do next, save for the immediate need to leave the village as soon as possible. - After all that, Viktor got paid the tidy sum he was contracted for, no more, no less, and that’s how he liked it. He also gets the admiration of the local teens who dream of escaping their little village. That part he’s less pleased with. This isn’t the type of job he’d recommend as a future career – the pay wasn’t constant, the transit depends if he has a horse or not, and not to mention the life-threatening danger of the work is enough to deter mostly anyone with common sense. There’s a reason why there’s not many monster hunters in the first place. Still, he hung around. No reason not too. The money is more than enough to fund his next job, and it’s rare he has some downtime to just enjoy the place, even if it’s just a small town in the middle of nowhere. It gives him more time to actually hang out with one of the less annoying - but just as persistent – village youths. Said youth was leaning back on the tree contently, twirling a small knife as she watched Viktor. “So you really ain’t gonna take me?” Kinessa said with a touch of forlornness. “Told you already kid. This kind of work ain’t for nice young’uns like you-” “Oh yeah? Can a kid do this?” With that, she twirled her knife around one last time then threw it at the opposite tree trunk. It landed with a solid thunk! She grinned at him as he shook his head. “Don’t remember teaching you that one.” “Yeah, got it from-” Kinessa stopped suddenly, her eyes darting fervently. Viktor too glanced around, but the only things listening were the trees and the gentle wind of autumn. They relaxed. “Got it from Strix. It’s one of the few things he taught me while we were staying at his place. Y’know, it wasn’t that bad being looked after him, apart from the cabin fever. He certainly made sure everyone was fed.” Viktor didn’t really know much about what Strix did when he was hiding the children. He only remembered seeing those wide eyes staring at him in fear. He could still recall seeing the openly scared kids huddling behind the sniper’s outstretched arm like a brood to a mother bird. It was only when Viktor lowered the rifle to the floor and raise his hands did Strix take his finger off the trigger. He was shaken from his memories when Kinessa spoke again. “Wonder what’s he doing right now.”’ Yes, Viktor was thinking the same thing – he hadn’t heard hide nor feather from Strix even since then. He was like a ghost of the village, where everyone did their best not to acknowledge that the so-called ‘terror of the night’ was, in fact, a very nice cryptid who just wanted to live in peace. Which the villagers granted him a lot, yes, but only in the physical sense. Reputation wise, it hadn’t changed that much from before, as Kinessa had been telling him. They just also added kidnapper to his extensive repertoire. Which, in Viktor’ opinion, was less than what Strix truly deserved. Viktor’s gaze fell on the woods, and he wondered. – It’s much easier to navigate the deer paths now, in the daylight, rather than the middle of the dark on a morbid mission. The twisting paths are no match for years of hunting experience, so it takes an almost laughably short time to reach Strix’s cottage. Two visits in two weeks, someone’s becoming popular. Bet he’s gonna shock Strix out of...whatever Strixes do with free time and no children to guard. When he knocked on the front door, he had to wait until the door inched open, revealing a pair of amber eyes that were narrowed in suspicion before they widened. “Viktor?” “The one and only. Can I come in?” Strix wordlessly opened the door and let Viktor step into the hideout. He’s still staring at him. Viktor grinned. “Shocking right? I’m capable of knocking on the front door instead of smashing it in during the middle of the night.” The right side of Strix’s mouth twitched. A smile? “What are you doing here?” “You invited me in?” “I mean,” Strix’s smile deepened. “I thought you would have left the village by now.” “Well that was the plan. I can tell you all about it if you want.”

Strix blinked, then nodded. Viktor sank down onto one of the chairs. Strix still hovered by the door. “Do you want to take a seat?"

"That's my line, but I supposed you already answered." Strix said, shaking his head ever so slightly, but he sat down on the other free seat.

Viktor looked around the room, taking note of the cleanliness now there was an absence of missing children. He did, however, note the various wilted flowercrowns and small toys lining the mantle of the fireplace. Something was bubbling away in it, smelling absolutely delicious. "Gifts from the kids?" Viktor asked, nodding to the fireplace.

"Not really. I would go to return them but," Strix paused. "I feel I'm not welcomed at the village. They need time to recover."

Really, in Viktor's humble opinion, the villagers should be showering Strix in gratitude and gold for slaying the beast, but that's him. Strix's voice broke his silent grumblings.

"I doubt that you're here to check on my well-being. What brings you?"

Viktor scratched the back of his head. "Actually, that's exactly what I was doing." Strix blinked at him. Viktor fidgeted self-consciously. "What, never had someone check up on you?"

Strix shook his head, wide-eyed, like an owl.

"Huh." Viktor said intelligently. He leaned back, one arm hung over the back of the seat. "Thought you and that kid, Kinessa..."

"It's for the best she doesn't." Came the terse reply.

Viktor didn't respond to that. Strix continued staring at a spot on the patched wall. "She still thinks of you." Viktor continued.

"I'd rather not talk about this now."

Viktor relented, willing to let it go for now, then grinned as he recalled an earlier misadventure. "Want to hear about how I managed to sneak my way into something called the Thousand Hand guild and stole the leader's sword?"

The troubled look cleared away with a smile, like sunlight parting through stormy clouds.

"...and then that was when I realised, the knight was rescuing the dragon, not the damsel!"

Mirth lit the planes of Strix's planes, warm as the glow from the firelight as it cast dancing shadows over the both of them. Viktor didn't even realise it was nightfall until he was studying the planes of Strix's face in the semi-darkness, how it sharpened and softened it all at once. Supper was a long gone memory, and the mulled wine was sitting heavy and pleasant in his gut. He hadn't had enough to be truly drunk, no, but it was sharing a secret every time he sipped and caught Strix's eye.

Strix had loosened up, as loose as a creature of the night can truly be while looking over their shoulder - he was noticeably more slouched, trying his best to melt into the furs, or into Viktor's side of the bench. Sometime in the evening, Viktor had moved from sitting opposite of Strix to next to him, a warm presence in the dark of the room. "I mean," Strix smirked. "He was wearing a helmet. Maybe he didn't see."

"Nah, he definitely saw. If he didn't, he would've definitely felt when he hefted the scaly son of a bastard onto his shoulder and took off!"

Strix wasn't being silent all the time though. He occasionally spoke up, to put in a wry comment or a interesting fact about some of the monsters Viktor faced, and Viktor found himself nodding along the more Strix spoke. Or maybe he was nodding off because of the warmth from the fire, or the sudden shock of heat to his gut when Strix's eyes flicked to his own.

"Hey, Strix." Viktor said. "Doesn't it get lonely out here?"

Strix's eyes glowed amber in the firelight as he answered, "Sometimes."

Viktor's throat clicked as he swallowed, and he summoned all the courage he had, even more than facing the child-eating monster, to lay a hand on Strix's knee. Warmth shot up his arm and pooled in his stomach. "You don't have to be. Not tonight." He leaned closer to Strix, closer to the intoxicating scent of forest and the night and just him. Still, he hovered just over Strix’s lips, with enough distance for Strix to pull away, in case Viktor had read all the signs wrong.

He didn't. Strix closed the distance with a surge.

Then Viktor didn’t have to worry afterwards.

"They still want me dead, y'know." Strix murmured from his position on Viktor's chest.

Viktor made a rumbling noise of question, eyes closed, too blissed out to properly answer. He felt Strix stroke his jaw with careful fingers. "And you, by association."

Viktor peeked open one eye open at Strix. "Didn't we just save the livelihood of their village?"

"Yes. Also risked your neck for the town's 'ghost monster'." Strix continued, even when Viktor opened both his eyes to frown at him. "Their willful ignorance won't last long. Sooner or later they'll try to run you out for standing up for me. They still blame me for attracting the beast to them."

Viktor propped himself up on one elbow, carefully maneuvering Strix to look at him in the eyes. "Bullshit. You saved their children. They still believe you're still bad?"

"They're fearful of what they don't know."

Strix's face looked forlorn that Viktor reached down to kiss it off and smooth out the frown. Strix definitely looked a lot more calmer once Viktor pulled away, but there was still a concerned wrinkle in his brow. "You should leave this place while you still can."

"Or what, they'll re-fetch the pitchforks and run me out of town?"

Strix gave him a blank look, and Viktor realised that yes, Strix really did mean that.

"Huh."

Maybe Strix had a point. It was high time he moved on anyway, places to visit, people to see, monsters to hunt. "What about you, though? Will you be alright?"

"I had the moniker 'Ghost Feather' for a reason. I know how to disappear when I need to."

'But you shouldn't have to hide,' Viktor thought, 'You shouldn't have to fear for your life, when you take place in this world too.'

He kept his mouth though, and wondered again.

"This is goodbye, isn't it." Strix said.

Viktor hummed in agreement. They stood in front of Strix's cottage, next to the sprawling wildflowers and untamed grass. Even the sun was shining, ignorant of the ache in Strix's chest as he looked over his home.

"Didn't think I would make good memories here. You proved me wrong." Strix came closer to Viktor and clasped his hand with appreciation. "I'll surely remember this. Even when this house rots to the earth."

Viktor smiled at that. "m'glad then." He grasped the back of Strix’s neck and pulled down, tipping his head so he could touch his forehead with Strix’s own, trying to postpone the inevitable. Strix opened his mouth.

"Viktor, I-"

There was the sound of a door being slammed open. "Would you two lovebirds hurry up?" Kinessa called as she hurried up the dirt path, rucksack secure on her shoulder. "Daylight's burning and I want to see the citadel before sunset."

Strix sighed, a warm breath of affection and annoyance. Viktor said, "Hey, you wanted to being the kid along, that makes her your protégé."

The side of Strix's mouth ticked upwards. "And you?"

"...that makes me yours too. Whatever of me you’ll want, it's yours.”

They both steadfastly ignored the retching noises Kinessa was making behind their backs. Viktor took Strix's hand and grinned at him. "Ready?"

Strix smiled back, brighter than any gold. "Yes."

And together, they stepped out into the sunlight.

#striktor #strix ( paladins )#viktor ( paladins )#Paladins: Champions of the Realm #paladins champions of the realm #pcotr #charwriting #charedit

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midnight-aether · 3 years

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Why Vox by Christina Dalcher is not a good novel: Review & Analysis

The premise of this novel is incredibly interesting, don’t get me wrong: Vox (2018) is about a dystopian future, in which US American women are only allowed to speak 100 words per day and must wear a bracelet that shocks them if they go over that limit. Women also aren’t allowed to write, read or use sign language. The main character is a genius linguist called Jean who hates every man in her life, including her husband Patrick and her own sons.

The first sentence already tells us three things about this novel: (1) it’s told from a first-person perspective, which means the reader will be aware of the protagonist’s every thought, (2) the oppressive regime in the novel goes by the name of Pure Movement, so it’s probably going to have something to do with religion, and (3) the action takes place in the span of a week, which I feel like it’s a huge spoiler for the fact that I won’t care for any of the characters at the end of the book, since there’s only so much character development that can happen in that time.

If anyone told me I could bring down the President, and the Pure Movement, and that incompetent little shit Morgan LeBron in a week’s time, I wouldn’t believe them.

There will be spoilers from this point on.

The Setting and the Protagonist

The main character in Vox, Dr. Jean McClellan, is a specialist researcher in the field of aphasia, that is, according to Wikipedia, “an inability to comprehend or formulate language because of damage to specific brain regions”. At some point in the novel we are made aware that a colleague of Jean’s, with her help, has discovered a cure for aphasia, even though they are both linguists and neither a chemist nor a medical researcher. However, she was unable to publish this discovery, due to the conveniently timed sexist apocalypse that stripped her of all her academic titles, as the reader is often reminded.

Jean is married to her husband Patrick and has four children with him: three boys and a girl. Jean evidently resents every man in her family, especially Patrick and their 17-year-old son, Steven. Apparently they’ve all been very quickly indoctrinated to believe women shouldn’t be allowed to speak, so they treat Jean and Sonia, the daughter, accordingly.

There is a whole subplot about Steven, but it’s so plain and uninteresting that there isn’t much to say about it. Basically, he is all for the Pure Movement and their ideals of purity for women, but then still sleeps with his high school girlfriend and proceeds to tattle on her. When she is taken away to a camp, he realizes his mistake a leaves to save her. At some point he is captured by the Movement and ridiculed on TV. Jean doesn’t really care that he’s gone, but is pleasantly surprised when he reappears at the end safe and sound.

At this point, the Pure Movement has only been in power for less than a year and a half. This movement is very overtly described as a Christian uprising that originated within the bible belt and had spread to the entirety of the USA. The followers of the Movement also adopt overly conservative views on gender roles, marriage and sex, leaving very little doubt about the roots of the oppressive regime in Vox.

The Plot

The main intrigue in Vox begins when the brother of the US president starts suffering from aphasia after a “skiing accident” and the government comes to Jean for help, despite her being a woman in a society that literally won’t let women speak. Why do they come to her instead of going to any other male scientist? Because apparently Jean is the best linguist in the whole country... even though, as far as the government (and the reader) knows, she’s only been researching aphasia for a couple of years and hasn’t found a cure yet. Well, the author herself has a doctorate in linguistics (not in the field of aphasia), which brings me to my first problem with this novel: the blatant and, quite frankly conceited, self-insert.

You may have noticed that I wrote “skiing accident” in quotation marks on the last paragraph. That’s because it’s hinted a couple of times throughout the novel that the president’s brother was actually injured on purpose by the government, but this turns out to be false. Later it seems like he was never even injured in the first place, but this is never clearly resolved, as the character himself never appears “onscreen”; however, it’s not a cliffhanger that perpetually haunts the reader.

Back to the story: Jean agrees to help because, by taking the job, she and her daughter get to remove the shock bracelets for the duration of the research. The government then proceeds to give Jean one week (remember the novel’s first sentence) to produce a cure that, to the best of their knowledge, hasn’t even been found yet. If that sounds like a stretch, they even let her work with her old research team of three people, which is supposed to fully convince the reader that a week is a completely plausible time frame to discover, produce, test and approve a cure for an illness.

The Side Characters

This team is composed of Jean, her former colleagues Lin and Lorenzo, and their supervisor Morgan, who you might remember from the novel’s opening sentence. Morgan is apparently an idiot linguist who is very unfit for his position, which is supposed to show how twisted the society in Vox is, as they put the dumb people in charge just because they’re men, and silence the smart women. What it actually does is show that this version of the USA apparently only has a handful of linguists and no other skilled scientists.

This is the novel’s description of Lin:

Lin Kwan is a small woman. I often told Patrick she could fit in one of my pant legs – and I’m only five and a half feet and 120 soaking wet, thanks to the stress diet I’ve been on for the past several months. Everything about her is small: her voice, her almond eyes, the sleek bob that barely reaches below her ears. Lin’s breasts and ass make me look like a Peter Paul Rubens model. But her brain – her brain is a leviathan of gray matter. It would have to be; MIT doesn’t hand out dual PhDs for nothing.

Here we learn that Lin is small, not conventionally attractive (read: small boobs and ass), and finally that she is incredibly intelligent. For some reason, Jean finds it important to describe Lin’s curves, as well as her own, before mentioning Lin’s intelligence. No, this novel was not written by Michael Bay. Also, for representation’s sake, Lin is Asian and a lesbian, yet every other major character in this novel is a white straight person.

Well, there is another lesbian in this story, actually. Jean’s old college roommate, Jackie Juarez, who Jean hasn’t seen since before the machocalypse. We get to know Jackie through flashbacks: the novel tries to portray her as this loud, over-the-top feminist who often tries to make Jean join the rallies and protests against the growing Pure Movement. Alas, Jean chooses to focus on school instead of going to protests and forever regrets this, thinking that if only she had fought, she might have changed history.

I don’t know how to feel about this novel’s depiction of Jackie. She is made out to be a stereotypical feminist lesbian, who actively protests against the uprising of the Pure Movement, and yet whose efforts are in vain. Here is an excerpt that characterizes how Jean sees Jackie, and therefore how the reader is supposed to see her:

“You have to vote, Jean,” [Jackie] said, throwing down the stack of campaign leaflets she’d been running around campus with while I was prepping for what I knew would be a monster of an oral exam. “You have to.”

“The only things I have to do are pay taxes and die,” I said, not holding back the sneer in my voice. That semester was the beginning of the end for Jackie an me. I’d started dating Patrick and preferred our nightly discussions about cognitive processes to Jackie’s rants about whatever new thing she had found to protest.

Here you can see that Jean clearly dismisses Jackie and “whatever new thing she had found to protest”, and instead muses about what an intellectual she is. I understand that this is a flashback, and it’s supposed to show that Jean was wrong not to care about protesting the Pure Movement, but this is told from present Jean’s perspective, so it’s clear she still rolls her eyes at Jackie’s activism in general. It feels like Vox is trying to say that actively expressing your ideas and concerns is useless, since Jean eventually overthrows the government with science and not through activism – and it even takes her no longer than a week to do it, as we learn at the beginning of this novel. There is a lot to unpack here, but I still wouldn’t recommend thinking too hard about the ideas in this book.

Jackie only becomes relevant to the plot towards the end. At some point she is held hostage by the government, so that Jean is forced to finish her work. Why the government chose to kidnap Jean’s old college roommate who she hasn’t seen or spoken about in years instead of, say, her daughter, we will never know. In the end, Jackie is only there so that Jean can save her and “redeem” herself for not having been there for Jackie in the past.

Lorenzo, the last member of the team, is Jean’s love affair since way before the Pure Movement effectively took over. The novel likes to remind the reader that Jean is with the Italian hunk Lorenzo because she despises her husband Patrick, so that makes cheating okay. Eventually we learn that Jean is pregnant with Lorenzo’s child, so he offers to let her escape with him to Italy as his wife. Yet Jean can’t allow herself to leave without her daughter Sonia – she’s fine with never seeing any of her sons again, though. She considers this for a while as she works on the cure for aphasia.

The Ending

At some point during the week, Lin disappears (we later learn she was imprisoned due to big gay activity). Jean and Lorenzo announce that they’ve discovered the cure and even test the serum on a random neighbour of Jean’s who happens to have aphasia as well. Also, Jean’s mother had an aneurysm earlier that week and also started suffering from aphasia. The government is pleased with the results and take the serum away.

Later, Morgan, the supervisor, takes Jean and Lorenzo to a strange lab underground to have them further develop the cure. There they walk through a hallway full of chimpanzees in cages, and there is a bizarre scene in which Jean gets too close to a cage and is attacked by a chimpanzee. There is no purpose to this scene other than to shock the reader, honestly. Here, the novel briefly, yet disrespectfully brings up a very real woman who was mauled by a chimpanzee in 2009 and managed to survive (Wikipedia link, no pictures), by having Jean think something along the lines of “oh no, I don’t want to end up like her!” during the attack.

Jean is fine, obviously. We’re over 200 pages in and nearing the end of the novel when the first interesting development happens in the form of a plot twist: the government has been using their cure in order to create an anti-serum that gives people aphasia. Their plan is to create a more effective means to silence women, of course, since they wouldn’t be able to comprehend or formulate language any more. When Jean discovers this, she wants to quit, but is forced to stay when they reveal they’ve been keeping Jackie, Lin and Lin’s girlfriend hostage in the same building for this very occasion. And maybe also Steven back at that camp, but we don’t even care about him at this point.

The climax of the story arrives, and everything happens so quickly the reader doesn’t have time to digest it. I had to reread what actually happened at the end, because I couldn’t remeber it anymore. I’ll try to recreate the pacing of the ending in the following paragraph, so you can understand what I mean:

Jean and Lorenzo save the lesbians (who are the only likeable characters, so that made me happy), Morgan dies, I think, and they escape with the anti-serum. Patrick appears and decides to help, so they send him to the White House with an anti-serum bomb that suceeds, giving the president and all evil politicians aphasia. Patrick is killed during this, freeing Jean from their marriage and allowing her to escape with Lorenzo and all of her children, whom she suddenly stopped resenting. The Pure Movement collapses and all is well, thanks to... well, thanks to Patrick and Lorenzo.

Conclusion

Vox is a mess of a novel. The characters are unlikeable, the plot is badly paced and the ending is too sudden. I really didn’t care about what happened to any character at any point, which is incredibly disappointing. Additionally, there are many things wrong with the political message in Vox, namely the idea that all religious people are inherently evil and that men generally wish to control and silence women. The premise was good, the writing was fine, but the performance was terrible, unfortunately. Vox feels like it was rushed to come out in time for the dystopian fiction craze of 2017-18 caused by the release of The Handmaid’s Tale TV series. Hopefully we’ll see better work from the author in the future.

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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

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Enough

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Trope: Unexpected Pregnancy Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, nosy friends

M A S T E R L I S T

“He has enough problems, I don’t want this to be something on top of that.” “Maybe it helps him heal.” “That works with cats and dogs. This is a CHILD, Natasha!” “It helped me to go to the children's hospital when I was down in my early Shield days.” “...well, those weren’t children you needed to care for, for the rest of your life.” “He’ll have no problem with it. I bet all my gear on it. And you know I love my gear.” “Fine.” you grumbled.

"B-Bucky?" you enter his part of the compound with silent footsteps. "Y/N? What's wrong?" he asked concerned, hearing the shaky voice and fast heartbeat. "You need to sit down for this." you gestured him to sit down. "So...um, turns out certain things don't work as well when you're a supersoldier." you fidgeted with your fingers. "What do you mean?" his head dipped to the side, something you loved about his mannerisms. You took the test to where he could see it and his eyes widened. "You don't need to ta-" you got interrupted by him jumping up and enveloping you into a hug. "It's okay. Not planned. But okay. Wow. Woah. A mini version of you." his hand absentmindedly went through your hair and you looked up. "Is it really okay? I know it was more of a one time thing and...well, that's at least 18 years of responsibility." "Was only a one time thing if you wanted it to be." he grinned down. "What do you mean?" your right brow went up. "Am I so bad at showing how insane I go for your every move?" he blushed. "Apparently." a giggle. "Well, I'm having quite the crush. That baby ain't helping with that." he said in more of a Brooklyn accent. Something he did when he was comfortable and happy. "I have a thing for you too, maybe." a cheeky grin went up at him. He chuckled before leaning down for a gentle kiss, hand wandering to your lower belly. "I'm gonna be a dad." it finally sinks in. "I was so worried because of PTSD and the job and…" you gave doe eyes. "I can handle that. Especially with you being the badass mom,” he said with his hand going through your hair again, "Do you have morning sickness? Anything that makes you feel unwell? Wanna be there for ya, darling." "Nausea, little bit of dizziness. It's a super soldier baby, I hope that brings more good than bad." "Did you let Dr. Cho test that?" he had a big grin. "No, but I definitely will." "Damn, it's still hitting me in pieces. You're going to be a mom. A mom, Y/N." he's still in awe. "I wish I could go back in time to see your mom's reaction." thoughts went straight to lips. "She would go crazy. She'd love you. Promise." he assured you with a big, warm and excited smile. "We're not telling anyone till end of next month. Nat knows. That's it." "All the making out and baby lovin’ in secret? You can be damn happy I'm a spy." he grabbed you close with a proud smile.

The team didn't know about both of you being together and much less about you being pregnant with his child. You were glad your feelings were mutual since a one night stand baby really wasn't something you planned for in life. But you also needed to get more used to each other in a shorter time frame. You were close-ish before but letting down guards and throwing away potential embarrassment about random things and situations made for some fun and some very vulnerable situations. "I wonder if I'll ever know you as well as Steve." you mumbled in a little spoon position. "He knows old me pretty well, you're on the perfect way to know new me better. I mean...we're gonna raise a child. God, that still sounds absurd." his arm left you so he could brush through his hair. A cute nervous tick he had. He told you that his PTSD symptoms got way better since he had this beautiful thing to look forward to. "I still can't imagine you with a tiny little baby in your giant arms." you giggled. "We have a charity event at the children's hospital soon. You just need to come with me for once." he lightly pinched you in the waist. "Fine. But just for the cuteness." you said grabbing his arm closer.

After a few weeks of getting way more used to each other and him laying on your belly every evening for an hour, he could finally hear a little heartbeat Seeing this giant of a man happy cry in your embrace was worth every second of nausea. "Oh, the tests from Helen came back. It has super soldier DNA strands. And I do too because of that wonder inside of me but they are low and would need to get activated more by gamma rays or something like that. At least for me. Still can kick you harder than bef-" you were interrupted by a passionate kiss. "I love you. Both of you." Your mouth fell open for a second before you could form words again, "I love you too, Bucky. We both do." "I can't wait to hold that little miracle in my arms." "My ovaries won't be ready for that." you joked.

Steve notices first a bit over two weeks later. The first time he heard two heartbeats while walking past you he just thought it was a mixup. But when you were the only one on the couch in the common room and were eating a bag of chips he was sure there was a second and small heart beat. "Y/N?" "Huh?" you answered with a mouth full of chips. "You have a little secret to tell me?" he sat down with a face like it's christmas. "It definitely is little. Can you hear it?" you put the chips bag aside and he gave an intense excited nod. "How far?" he grinned. "A bit over three months. I'll tell the rest of the team soon." you went over the little dent on your lower belly. "Who's the-" he stopped at steps approaching. Bucky came in with his empty coffee mug and a big smile at you. "This idiot over there." you said with big heart eyes. "Oh. My. God." his jaw was on the floor. "You can touch it if you want." you smiled and sat down differently. A soft big hand was going over the little bulge. "Damn. I wasn't prepared for that." he mumbled. "We neither." Bucky deadpanned and you giggled. Light feet came closer and Steve moved back while Bucky didn't care. Nat came into the room a few seconds later. "Hey guys." a big smile. "Nat, Steve?" you got their attention and gestured them to sit down. "I'd really like you to be godmother and godfather." you smiled and Steve's look was going to Nat confused. "She knew before I even told Bucky. It's okay Steve." you giggled. "Of course I'm gonna take on that role." she said excited and Steve nodded heavily. "The rest of the team will find out next week, don't you dare say a word." a serious face and nods.

In the coming week you wrote letters for everyone in the compound. "You'll be an aunt/uncle/brother/godfather/godmother" and a little bit of a sweet message below. Coincidentally Bucky, Steve, Sam & Nat were on a mission the day you slipped the letters under everyone's door in the compound. You heard the early morning commotion shortly after and Clint asking "What does yours say? Mine says uncle." and Wanda answering "Big sister." "We should make her breakfast." came from Bruce and you smiled at his usual softness. After the voices were further away in the kitchen you got out of bed, put on something showing off your mini belly and made your way towards the kitchen. "CONGRATS!" came in unison from the entire team. "Thank you." you were glowing and staring at the breakfast they were currently making. "Do you already know if it's a boy or a girl?" Wanda asked. "I don't plan on finding out till the end of the second trimester. It's not super important anyway." you shrugged. The breakfast was long and full of baby related questions and stories from Clint's kids.

After you excused yourself because you were tired they immediately came together on the couch. "Who is the father? Can only be one of the guys on the mission. She doesn't leave this compound much." came from Tony. "What speaks for each of them?" came from Vision. "My bet is on Sam. They're flirting a lot between the lines." Clint threw in. “I bet it's Steve. Doesn't let anyone in on things like that. Would also make sense why we don't know about them being together." Wanda pointed out. "Guys, what if it's Bucky?" Bruce added. Everyone looked at him, shook their head and started placing bets between Steve and Sam. Only Bruce was betting on Bucky. He had a feeling.

The little team came back from the mission and the rest just stared at them with Sam being super confused. Then he opened his door and saw a letter saying "You're gonna be an uncle, Sam. I'm 3 months in and you better treat me right. -Y/N" He went to your room and knocked under the glances of the others. His grin was gigantic when you opened the door, "Really?" "Yes. I'm so fucking happy." you squealed before he picked you up and turned you around. "I'm gonna be an uncle? Oh my god! That kid's gonna be spoiled so much." Everyone betting on Sam exhaled defeated. It was down to the super soldiers.

After a shower and a change into sweatpants and a shirt Steve came to check on you. "Everything alright? Ate enough? Anything you need help with?" he was so soft with you since he knew. "Nah, just very tired...well, you could technically help me get something out of my storage but that can wait." you smiled up at him and the group silently inhaled. Bucky came around the corner in his usual demeanor and at the sight of his girlfriend and best friend his face lit up. "I heard you've been telling everyone who didn't know?" a smirk at her. The groups breathing hitched when you nodded. "Is little bean making any problems today?" he asked with attentive eyes on you. "Tired, little bit of the dizziness. It's fine." you smiled up at him. "Gotta make sure my two beans are okay." he planted a kiss on your forehead and the group collectively looked at Bruce doing a tiny happy dance for winning. "It's BARNES' BABY?" Tony finally bursted out confused. "Am I really that bad at showing how in love I've been with this little woman full of energy?" he chuckled. "How. Long?" Wanda needed to know. "Since we know about it." you looked down on yourself. Nat finally left her room too and came to you and hugged you, "How's my godbaby doing?" "Godbaby?" Steve laughed. "I mean it's genderless, what else am I supposed to call the baby?" she smirked at him. "Well... you're right. Our godbaby is doing good today." he grinned at her. "We were the only ones not in on this, huh?" Clint added from the couch. "Jup." Bucky gave a cheeky grin before picking you up and finally carrying you to his room. No secrets anymore.

"God, he's gonna protect her and that baby to death." someone mumbled. "Awww." Wanda was totally up for all the parent cuteness. "I hope it finally makes him feel like he's enough." Steve added when he crashed onto the sofa. “Have you seen his eyes when he called them his beans? He definitely feels enough already.” Sam smiled with pure happiness for his friend. “Bean Barnes is gonna grow up around a bunch of idiots.” Nat pointed out shaking her head with a grin.

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alistonjdrake · 3 years

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Part Two: The Silent Partner

Sebastian an’Johannes Harver Born: Year 1729 after the fall of the Saints Parents: Royal Governor and Governess of Tadrus. Johannes an’Arturo Harver and Helena ana’Dídac Cabrel Wife: Princess Sandra ana’Juliano Rios

There is a midwife in Tadrus who made a killing in the immediate years after the creation of the Escana Empire when she claimed she was the first to ever touch the emperor. She was also there when Lady Helena gave birth to Prince Sebastian. She said, “If I did not pull that babe from her with my own two hands I would never believe that they are mother and son.”

Some have theorized that Prince Sebastian was likely a mistake or a very surprising child. There are numerous reasons. Lady Helena and Royal Governor Johannes did not have a close or affectionate marriage by any means. While they married by their own choice (and also much to the shock of their families) they never appeared or claimed to be in love. In fact, after Frederick, it was said the couple did not see each other for two years with Johannes living in a smaller house on the Pala Haviso property where he spent time working on a poetry collection he would never finish.

So it was a wonder to many that Sebastian was born at all. No one was likely as surprised as Lady Helena who is often praised for her astute planning and foresight and her management of Frederick’s care and education, but she had no such plans for her younger son.

Sebastian had a quiet childhood. He stayed in Tadrus. He had tutors, none more extravagant than the cousin of a Navanese duke, and he was by no means uneducated. Sebastian was a well learned child. He was something of a musical prodigy. Even Lady Helena delighted in his singing. He spoke well, he had friendly manners, and was a pleasant child if not a boring one.

He spent a lot of time with his father and when Johannes’ health started to decline, he fashioned himself as one of his caretakers. Some would go on to say that even after some twenty years of marriage, Johannes still spent more time with Sebastian than he ever had with Lady Helena.

They were both relatively quiet and meek in appearance and manners. They got on well. In 1742, Sebastian was only thirteen when his father died and he was absolutely crushed.

As an adult and in the early years of the Harver reign, it’s easy to remember Prince Sebastian as King Frederick’s shadow, but when his older brother arrived from Oskya he was stunned by his strangeness. Sebastian would go on to write about his brother’s mustache, his odd companion, his funny accent, as well as his obsession with what he deemed “impractical” clothing. People always point out Frederick as the “Tadrune” one but that label is clearly more fitting for Sebastian.

Sebastian was Tadrune through and through. Even during his life in Graza he would be a firm believer in the Tadrune dialect and preferred it over Graza’s formal Escan. He preferred traditional Escana and Tadrune attire over new court fashions his brother adopted, something he would wear occasionally throughout his adult life. Sebastian also preferred quieter hobbies as a contrast to his brother. He was briefly famous for his collection of books and would go on to be the blame for his nephew Prince Leonides’ obsession with reading illegal books.

But, in the beginning, it can be said King Frederick did not make many attempts to bond with him. They had been apart for too long, they hardly wrote to one another previously, and the Pala Haviso was large enough where they truly did not need to meet if they didn’t want to. As brothers they did not cultivate any such closeness until after King Juliano’s death in 1745 and Sebastian, now sixteen, was encouraged both by his mother and grandfather to join King Frederick’s campaign.

Lacking all of his older brother’s knowledge of the military and knowing even less of Oskyan customs, Sebastian mainly kept to himself. Although, he did find some time to bond with Vadik, of all people. They would come to form their own small alliance that would hold together for future dealings when they would later corner King Frederick to make decisions.

King Frederick married Queen Isolde in 1748 and became King of Escan. That same day, there was another, often forgotten, wedding. Briefly in his childhood, there are rumors that Sebastian had been engaged before. Or that at least there was some conversations about him and potential matches (one of which its rumored was between him and the eventual Queen Trella).

But Sebastian was truly married at the age of nineteen to Princess Sandra ana’Juliano Rios, the often forgotten second daughter of King Juliano. As unhappy as the marriage between the older siblings were, this one was worse. Neither was thrilled. Princess Sandra had been hiding in an ally’s country house during the Siege of Graza and went missing on the road three times before she finally arrived in Graza for her wedding. Lady Helena had to sit Sebastian down and outline the importance of combining both families to him.

Perhaps one of the reasons Sebastian so easily jumped into life at court and took up a spot in helping King Frederick was as a way to avoid Princess Sandra, who spent their honeymoon alone in a Grazan townhouse while Sebastian helped with renovations of the palace and began research for what would become the groundwork of the propaganda that would strengthen King Frederick’s claim.

Another difference between the two brothers, is that Sebastian was very comforted by his work. Ever the avid reader, it actually delighted him to pour over bills and old Escana law. Besides that, and the one most people find interesting, is that Sebastian all but cut Princess Sandra loose. By the time Queen Isolde’s first pregnancy was announced, he urged his mother to loosen the watch on his wife. Princess Sandra would be gone from Graza by the next day.

As a couple, they barely saw each other and Sebastian was never known to take on a lover. King Frederick would become famous for having countless ones, and while there would be times where Sebastian would be criticized for coming too close to his one of his sisters-in-law, no one has ever produced solid proof that he was an unfaithful husband (or an awful brother).

In all things, Sebastian more or less tried to keep the peace. He would do his best to calm Lady Helena’s tempers, courtiers would tell jokes about how much time he spent cleaning up scandals and plucking nasty rumors by their roots, he was also dubbed the “handler”. Through him, his brother would often select his paramours. It would be Sebastian who would go to the lucky person’s residence and tell them they caught the king’s eye, or be the one to send a letter or gift, or be the one who had to have the paramour removed from the palace. Sebastian also took on the job of handling a lot of King Frederick’s personal accounts and affairs, a job he would eventually give to Prince Leonides (along with other tasks).

The family truly played up the differences between them. As capable of an adviser as Sebastian proved to be, it was important that he was also pointed out as the weaker brother just as much as they spread sentiment that Princess Sandra was frivolous and uncaring, a stranger in Graza. She was still the surviving Rios and to quell any whispers that that she took King Frederick’s place as King Juliano’s heir, they were set up as an entirely unfit royal couple.

Sebastian was the one who arranged the funeral for Lady Helena when she died in 1756 despite the fact that they were never close. But he was often charged with arranging all the funerals in the family up until that point (he’d even helped plan Johannes’ funeral back in 1742 as Arturo could not immediately leave Graza at the time and Lady Helena simply did not want to.) His responsibility of funeral handling does extend to his brother’s queens as well.

In place of having children of his own, Sebastian did try to be a good uncle. He was close to Prince Leonides because of how closely they worked together, but he did attempt to have relationships with all of his nephews (and his single niece). As Prince Leonides got older and his talent for politics became apparent, Sebastian began to take more and more steps back. Eventually, he would take an early retirement and do the thing King Frederick got to do that he never did.

Sebastian traveled. As a boy raised in Tadrus and then as someone who spent much of his adulthood in Graza, he was fascinated by the sea. He purchased his own ship and would spent many months out of the year sailing warm waters and relaxing on neighboring islands, returning to Graza with gifts for the family.

Much like himself, in 1759, he and Princess Sandra had a shocking child. After eleven years of marriage, much of it spent apart, Princess Sandra gave birth to their only child.

The timing is not extremely strange as in 1759, Sebastian and Princess Sandra had both a funeral and a wedding to attend (the death of Queen Filipa and the subsequent marriage to Queen Brandye. It was customary for them to appear before the court as a couple for special occasions. Sebastian was quoted to having saying he didn’t ask for much but Princess Sandra must not embarrass him by not attending.) and they did share apartments in Graza Palace. And perhaps eleven years had truly passed, people very rarely mentioned Queen Isolde or the bad blood that had existed between Harver and Rios in those days.

Although, once Princess Damaris was born, the couple was again separated. Princess Sandra went back to her country homes and lesser noble friends, and Sebastian traveled less frequently but that’s not to say he didn’t continue to leave.

While it can be said that neither were very attentive parents, Sebastian did try to make up for what he lacked. He found it much easier to be an uncle, as he had no reason to see his nephews before they were old enough to leave the royal nursery, but Princess Damaris’ care and education was all up to him once Princess Sandra was gone. On his own side, Sebastian did feel close to his daughter although he was very open about how little they understood one another or had anything in common. He was his daughter’s loudest supporter on her path to knighthood and when he was in Graza, they did spend plenty of time alone together almost as if they were outcasts in the Escana court.

Despite his retirement, Sebastian still handled much of King Frederick’s personal business. He was blamed for covering up Queen Luca’s assaults on paramours who were related to important figures, as well as accused for hiding Queen Luca when she was still a mistress during her pregnancy. When some people were brought to trial for Queen Luca’s assassination, Sebastian was also questioned (not under suspicion of involvement but for what he knew about potential suspects). Sebastian has also come under fire for not being wholly truthful about the personal Harver accounts and their assets, some believe he’s hidden several properties King Frederick purchased either to hide paramours or to have his family escape to in the case of a rebellion. He’s been accused of keeping a list of illegitimate children who are scattered across the continent for his brother, brushing illegal dealings under the rug, and even letting enemies of the state cross their borders.

For as faithful of a partner as he was to King Frederick, he very rarely confided in anyone himself. In Sebastian’s adult life, he found no friend as close to him as he’d been to his father as a child and was very secretive.

While traveling, he contracted a disease and died in 1779. After his funeral, Princess Sandra announced she would not be coming back to Graza and has not been seen in court since.

#My characters #my writing #tss trilogy #character intro #world building #another long one shhhhh #I'm proud of this one especially when we compare it to the last Sebastian post #it was like...nothing #tbh Sebastian isn't as wild as Frederick but he still did things y'know #and we appreciate him because he introduced Leonides to Valera #and honestly he probably hid several bodies during his career so #I just like writing about characters who are dead before ORG starts because surprise surprise I actually don't like writing backstory #I know that must be shocking #but this doesn't count because if Sebastian is already dead and is only mentioned as their dead uncle in ORG then it's not backstory they #never talk about any of this #I think Damaris comes close because she mentions that her childhood was rocky but like to one person because everyone else already knows #also this is sadly the first time after all my years of writing org that I'm realizing Damaris Leonides and Cidro are double cousins

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96harmony96 · 3 years

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Chapter 12

Lauren found me in the shower the next morning. she strode into the master bath gloriously nude, moving with that sleek confident grace I’d admired from the beginning. Her hair framed her face and shoulders in a sexy disheveled mane, a look that screamed a woman had clenched the rough black silk in greedy hands. Watching the flexing of her muscles as she moved, I didn’t even pretend not to stare at the magnificent package between her legs.

Despite the heat of the water, my nipples beaded tight and goose bumps raced across my skin.

Her knowing smile as she joined me told me she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on me. I retaliated by running soapy hands all over her godlike body; then sitting on the bench and sucking her off with such enthusiasm she had to support herself with both palms pressed flat against the tile.

Her raw, raspy instructions echoed in my mind the entire time I dressed for work, which I did quickly—before she had a chance to finish her shower and fuck the hell out of me as she’d threatened to just before spurting fiercely down my throat.

she’d had no nightmares during the night. Sex as a sedative seemed to be working, and I was extremely grateful for that.

“I hope you don’t think you’ve gotten away,” she said when she prowled after me into the kitchen. Immaculately dressed in a black pinstripe suit, she accepted the cup of coffee I handed her and gave me a look that promised all sorts of wicked things. I saw her in her supremely civilized attire and thought of the insatiable female who’d slipped into my bed during the night. My blood quickened. I was sore, my muscles thrumming with remembered pleasure, and I was still thinking about more.

“Keep looking at me like that,” she warned, leaning casually into the counter and sipping her coffee. “See what happens.”

“I’m going to lose my job over you.”

“I’d give you another one.”

I snorted. “As what? Your sex slave?”

“What a provocative suggestion. Let’s discuss.”

“Fiend,” I muttered, rinsing out my mug in the sink and putting it in the dishwasher. “Ready? For work?”

She finished her coffee and I held out my hand for her mug, but she bypassed me and rinsed it out herself. Another mortal task that made her seem accessible, less of a fantasy I’d never have a chance of holding on to.

she faced me. “I want to take you out to dinner tonight, and then take you home to my bed.”

“I don’t want you to burn out on me,Lauren.” she was a woman used to being alone, a woman who hadn’t had a meaningful physical relationship in a long time, if ever. How long before her flight instincts kicked in? Besides, we really needed to stay out of the public eye as a couple…

“Don’t make excuses.” Her features hardened. “You don’t get to decide I can’t do this.”

I kicked myself for offending her. she was trying and I needed to make sure she got credit for that, not discouragement. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want to crowd you. Plus we still need to—”

“Camila.” she sighed, the hard tension leaving her with that frustrated exhalation. “You have to trust me. I’m trusting you. I’ve had to or we wouldn’t be here now.”

Okay. I nodded, swallowing hard. “Dinner and your place it is, then. I honestly can’t wait.”

Lauren’s words about trust lingered in my mind all morning, which was a good thing when the Google alert digest hit my inbox.

There was more than one photo this time around. Each article and blog post had several shots of me and Cary hugging good-bye outside the restaurant where we’d had lunch the day before. The captions speculated on the nature of our relationship and some noted that we lived together. Others suggested I was reeling in “billionaire playboy Jauregui” while keeping my up-and-coming model boyfriend on the side.

The reason for the publicity became apparent when I saw the picture of Lauren mingled with the ones of me and Cary. It had been taken last night, while I was watching movies with Cary and Trey—and while Lauren was supposedly at a business dinner. In the photo, Lauren and Magdalene Perez smiled intimately at each other, her hand on her forearm as they stood outside a restaurant. The captions ranged between kudos for Lauren’s “bevy of beautiful socialites” to speculation that she was hiding a broken heart over my infidelity by dating other women.

You have to trust me.

I closed my inbox, my breathing too quick and my heartbeat too fast. Jealous confusion twisted my gut. I knew she couldn’t possibly have been physically intimate with another woman and I knew she cared for me. But I hated Magdalene with a passion—certainly she’d given me good reason to during our bathroom chat—and I couldn’t stand seeing her with Lauren. Couldn’t stand seeing her smiling so fondly at her, especially after the way she’d treated me.

But I put it away. I shoved it into a box in my mind and I focused on my job. Mark was meeting with Lauren tomorrow to go over the RFP for the Kingsman campaign and I was organizing the information flowing between Mark and the contributing departments.

“Hey, Camila.” Mark poked his head out of his office. “Steve and I are meeting at Bryant Park Grill for lunch. He asked if you’d come. He’d like to see you again.”

“I’d love to.” My whole afternoon brightened at the thought of enjoying lunch at one of my favorite restaurants with two really charming guys. They’d distract me from thinking about the conversation I was hours away from having with Lauren about my past.

My privacy was clearly gone. I would have to grow a set of balls and talk to Lauren before we went out to dinner. Before she was seen in public with me any further. she needed to know the risk she was taking by being associated with me.

When I received an interoffice envelope a short while later, I assumed it was a small mock-up of one of the Kingsman ads, but found a note card from Lauren instead.

Noon. My office.

“Really?” I muttered, irritated by the lack of salutation and closing. Not to mention the lack of a request. And who could forget the fact that Lauren hadn’t even mentioned running into Magdalene at dinner?

Had she invited her as her date in my stead? That’s what she was there for, after all. To be one of the women she socialized with outside of her hotel room.

I flipped Lauren’s card over and wrote the same number of words with no signature:

Sorry. Have plans.

A bratty reply, but she deserved it. When a quarter to noon rolled around, Mark and I headed down to the ground floor. When I was stopped by security and the guard called up to Lauren to tell her I was in the lobby, my irritation kicked into a temper.

“Let’s go,” I said to Mark, striding toward the revolving door and ignoring the pleas of the security guard to wait a moment. I felt bad putting him in the middle.

I saw Angus and the Bentley at the curb at the same moment I heard Lauren snap out my name like a whip crack behind me. I faced her as she joined us on the sidewalk with her face impassive and her gaze icy.

“I’m going to lunch with my boss,” I told her, my chin lifting.

“Where are you headed, Garrity?” Lauren asked without taking her eyes off me.

“Bryant Park Grill.”

“I’ll see that she gets there.” With that, she took my arm and steered me firmly toward the Bentley and the rear door that Angus held open for me. Lauren crowded in behind me, forcing me to scramble across the seat. The door shut and we were off.

I yanked the skirt of my sheath dress back into place. “What are you doing? Besides embarrassing me in front of my boss!”

she draped one arm over the back of the seat and leaned toward me. “Is Cary in love with you?”

“What? No!”

“Have you fucked him?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Mortified, I shot a glance at Angus and found him acting like he was deaf. “Screw you, billionaire playboy with your bevy of beautiful socialites.”

“So you did see the photos.”

I was so mad I was panting. The nerve. I turned my head away, dismissing her and her idiotic accusations. “Cary’s like a brother to me. You know that.”

“Ah, but what are you to him? The photos were amazingly clear, Camila. I know love when I see it.”

Angus slowed for a herd of pedestrians crossing the street. I shoved the door open and looked at Lauren over my shoulder, letting her take a good look at my face. “Obviously, you don’t.”

I slammed the door shut and set off briskly, righteous in my anger. I’d fought back my own questions and jealousy with herculean effort, and what did I get for it? An irrationally pissed-off Lauren.

“Camila. Stop right there.”

I flipped her the bird over my shoulder and raced up the short steps into Bryant Park, a lushly green and tranquil oasis in the midst of the city. Just crossing up and over from the sidewalk was like being transported to a completely different realm. Dwarfed by the towering skyscrapers surrounding it, Bryant Park was a garden land behind a beautiful old library. A place where time slowed, children laughed over the innocent joy of a carousel ride, and books were treasured companions.

Unfortunately for me, the gorgeous ogre from one world chased me into the other. Lauren caught me by the waist.

“Don’t run,” she hissed in my ear.

“You’re acting like a nut job.”

“Maybe because you drive me fucking crazy.” Her arms tightened into steel bands. “You’re mine. Tell me Cary knows that.”

“Right. Like Magdalene knows you’re mine.” I wished she had something near my mouth that I could bite. “You’re causing a scene.”

“We could’ve done this in my office, if you weren’t so damned stubborn.”

“I had plans, asshat. And you’re fucking them up for me.” My voice broke, tears welling as I felt the number of eyes on us. I was going to get fired for being an embarrassing spectacle. “You’re fucking up everything.”

Lauren instantly released me, turning me to face her. Her grip on my shoulders ensured I still couldn’t get away.

“Christ.” she crushed me against her, her lips in my hair. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

I beat my fist against her chest, which was as effective as hitting a rock wall. “What’s wrong with you? You can go out with a catty bitch who calls me a whore and thinks she’s going to marry you, but I can’t have lunch with a dear friend who’s been pulling for you from the beginning?”

“Camila.” she cupped the back of my head with one hand and pressed her cheek to my temple. “Maggie just happened to be at the same restaurant where I had dinner with my business associates.”

“I don’t care. You want to talk about a look on someone’s face. The look on yours…How could you look at her like that after what she said to me?”

“Angel…” Her lips moved ardently over my face. “That look was for you. Maggie caught me outside and I told her I was heading home to you. I can’t help how I look when I’m thinking about us being alone together.”

“And you expect me to believe she smiled about that?”

“she told me to tell you hello, but I figured that wouldn’t go over well, and there was no way I was ruining our night over her.”

My arms slid around her waist beneath her jacket. “We need to talk. Tonight,Lauren. There are things I have to tell you. If a reporter looks in the right place and gets lucky…We have to keep our relationship private or end it. Either would be better for you.”

Lauren cupped my face and pressed her forehead to mine. “Neither is an option. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

I pushed up onto my toes and pressed my mouth to her. Our tongues stroked and dipped, the kiss wildly passionate. I was vaguely aware of the multitude of people milling around us, the buzz of numerous conversations, and the steady rumble of the ceaseless midtown traffic, but none of it mattered while I was sheltered by Lauren. Cherished by her. she was both tormentor and pleasure, a woman whose mood swings and volatile passions rivaled my own.

“There,” she whispered, running his fingertips down my cheek. “Let that go viral.”

“You’re not listening to me, you crazy stubborn man. I have to go.”

“We’ll ride home together after work.” she backed away, holding my hand until distance pulled our fingers apart.

When I turned toward the ivy-draped restaurant, I saw Mark and Steven waiting for me by the entrance. They made such a pair with Mark in his suit and tie, and Steven in his worn jeans and boots.

Steven stood with his hands in his pockets and a big grin on his attractive face. “I feel like I should applaud. That was better than watching a chick flick.”

My face heated and I shifted on my feet.

Mark opened the door and waved me inside. “I think you can ignore my previous words of wisdom about Jauregui's womanizing.”

“Thanks for not firing me,” I replied wryly as we waited for the hostess to check our reservation and table. “Or at least feeding me first.”

Steven patted my shoulder. “Mark can’t afford to lose you.”

Pulling out a chair for me, Mark smiled. “How else will I give Steven regular updates on your love life? He’s a soap opera addict, you know. He loves romantic dramas.”

I snorted. “You’re kidding.”

Steven ran a hand over his chin and smiled. “I’ll never admit it one way or the other. A man’s got to have his secrets.”

My mouth curved, but I was painfully aware of my own hidden truths. And how quickly time was passing before I’d have to reveal them.

____

Five o’clock found me steeling myself to divulge my secrets. I was tense and somber when Lauren and I slid into the Bentley, and my disquiet only worsened when I felt her studying the side of my averted face. When she took my hand and lifted it to her lips, I felt like crying. I was still trying to adjust after our argument in the park, and that was the least of what we had to deal with.

We didn’t speak until we arrived at her apartment.

When we entered her home, she led me straight through her beautiful, expansive living room and down the hall to her bedroom. There, laid out on the bed, was a fabulous cocktail dress the color of Lauren’s eyes and a floor-length black silk robe.

“I had a little time to shop before dinner yesterday,” she explained.

My apprehension lifted slightly, softened by pleasure at her thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

She set my bag on a chair by the dresser. “I’d like you to get comfortable. You can wear the robe or something of mine. I’ll open a bottle of wine and we’ll just settle in. When you’re ready, we’ll talk.”

“I’d like to take a quick shower.” I wished we could separate what happened in the park from what I had to tell her so that each issue was dealt with on its own merits, but I didn’t have a choice. Every day was another opportunity for someone else to tell Lauren what whe needed to hear from me.

“Whatever you want, angel. Make yourself at home.”

As I kicked off my heels and moved into the bathroom, I felt the weight of her concern, but my revelations would have to hold until I could compose myself better. In an effort to gain that control, I took my time in the shower. Unfortunately, it made me remember the one we’d taken together just that morning. Had that been both our first and last as a couple?

When I was ready, I found Lauren standing by the couch in the living room. she’d changed into black silk pajama bottoms that hung low around her hips. Nothing else. A small blaze flickered in the fireplace and a bottle of wine sat in an ice-filled bucket on the coffee table. A grouping of ivory candles had been clustered as a centerpiece, their golden glow the only illumination besides the fire.

“Excuse me,” I said from the threshold of the room. “I’m looking for Lauren Jauregui, the woman who doesn’t have romance in their repertoire.”

she grinned sheepishly, a boyish smile so at odds with the mature sexuality of her bared body. “I don’t think about it that way. I just try to guess what might please you, and then I give it a shot and hope for the best.”

“You please me.” I crossed to her, the black robe swaying around my legs. I loved that she’d put on something that matched what she had given me.

“I want to,” she said soberly. “I’m working on it.”

Stopping in front of her, I drank in the beauty of her face and the sexy way the ends of her hair caressed the top of her shoulders. I ran my palms down her biceps, squeezing the hard muscle gently before stepping into her and pressing my face into her chest.

“Hey,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around me. “Is this about me being an ass at lunch? Or whatever it is you need to say to me? Talk to me, Camila, so I can tell you it’ll be okay.”

I nuzzled my nose between her breast, breathing in the reassuring, familiar scent of her skin. “You should sit down. I have to tell you things about me. Ugly things.”

Lauren reluctantly let me go when I pulled away from her. I curled up on her couch with my legs tucked underneath me and she poured us both glasses of golden wine before taking a seat. Leaning toward me, she draped one arm over the back of the sofa and held her glass with the other hand, giving me every bit of her attention.

“Okay. Here goes.” I took a deep breath before starting, feeling dizzy from the elevated rate of my pulse. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so nervous or sick to my stomach.

“My mother and father never married. I really don’t know too much about how they met, because neither of them talks about it. I know my mom came from money. Not as much as she married into, but more than most people have. she was a debutante. Had the whole white dress and presentation thing. Getting pregnant with me was a mistake that got her disowned, but she kept me.”

I looked down into my glass. “I really admire her for that. There was a lot of pressure for her to make the baby—make me—go away, but she went through with the pregnancy anyway. Obviously.”

Her fingers sifted through my shower-damp hair. “Lucky me.”

I caught her fingers and kissed her knuckles, then held her hand in my lap. “Even with a kid in tow, she was able to land herself a millionaire. He was a widower with a son just two years older than me, so I think they both thought they’d found the perfect arrangement. He traveled a lot and was rarely home, and my mom spent his money and took over raising his son.”

“I understand the need for money, Camila,” she murmured. “I have to have it, too. I need the power of it. The security.”

Our eyes met. Something passed between us with that small admission. It made it easier for me to say what came next.

“I was ten the first time my step brother raped me—”

The stem of her glass snapped in her hand. she moved so swiftly she was a blur, catching the bowl of her goblet against her thigh before it spilled its contents.

I scrambled to my feet when she rose to her. “Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she bit out. she went into the kitchen and threw the broken glass away, shattering it further. I set my own glass down carefully, my hands shaking. I heard cupboards opening and closing. A few minutes later Lauren returned with a tumbler of something darker in his hand.

“Sit down, Camila.”

I stared at her. Her frame was rigid, her eyes icy cold. she scrubbed a hand over her face and said more gently, “Sit down…please.”

My weakened knees gave out and I sat on the edge of the sofa, pulling the robe tighter around me.

Lauren remained standing, taking a large swallow of whatever was in her hand. “You said the first time. How many times were there?”

I took conscious breaths, trying to calm myself. “I don’t know. I lost count.”

“Did you tell anyone? Did you tell your mother?”

“No. My God, if she’d known, she would’ve gotten me out of there. But Nathan made sure I was too afraid to tell her.” I tried to swallow past a tight, dry throat and winced at the painful sandpapery burn. When my voice came again, it was barely a whisper. “There was a time when it got so bad I almost told her anyway, but he knew. Nathan could tell I was close. So he broke my cat’s neck and left her on my bed.”

“Jesus Christ.” Her chest was heaving. “He wasn’t just fucked up, he was insane. And he was touching you…Camila.”

“The servants had to know,” I went on numbly, staring at my twisted hands. I just wanted to get it over with, to get it all out so I could put it back into the box in my mind where I forgot about it in my day-to-day life. “The fact that they didn’t say anything either told me they were scared, too. They were grownups and they didn’t say a word. I was a child. What could I do if they wouldn’t do anything?”

“How did you get out?” she asked hoarsely. “When did it end?”

“When I was fourteen. I thought I was having my period, but there was too much blood. My mother panicked and took me to the emergency room. I’d had a miscarriage. In the course of the exam they found evidence of…other trauma. Vaginal and anal scarring—”

Lauren set her glass down on the end table with a harsh thud.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling like I might be sick. “I’d spare you the details, but you need to know what someone might dig up. The hospital reported the abuse to child services. It’s all a matter of public record, which has been sealed, but there are people who know the story. When my mom married Stanton, he went back and tightened those seals, paid out in return for nondisclosure agreements…stuff like that. But you have a right to know that this could come out and embarrass you.”

“Embarrass me?” she snapped, vibrating with rage. “Embarrassment isn’t on the list of what I’d feel.”

“Lauren—”

“I would destroy the career of any reporter who wrote about this, and then I’d dismantle the publication that ran the piece.” she was so cold with fury, she was icy. “I’m going to find the monster who hurt you, Camila, wherever he is, and I’m going to make him wish he was dead.”

A shiver moved through me, because I believed her. It was in her face. Her voice. In the energy she exuded and her sharply honed focus. she wasn’t just dark and dangerous in her looks. Lauren was a woman who got what she wanted, whatever it took.

I pushed to my feet. “He’s not worth the effort. Not worth your time.”

“You are. You’re worth it. Damn it. Goddamn it to hell.”

I moved closer to the fireplace, needing the warmth. “There’s also a money trail. Cops and reporters always follow the money. Someone may wonder why my mother left her first marriage with two million dollars, but her daughter from a previous relationship left with five.”

Without looking, I felt her sudden stillness. “Of course,” I went on, “that blood money’s probably grown to considerably more than that now. I won’t touch it, but Stanton manages the brokerage account I dumped it in and everyone knows he has the Midas touch. If you ever had any concern that I wanted your money—”

“Stop talking.”

I turned to face her. I saw her face, her eyes. Saw the pity and horror. But it was what I didn’t see that hurt the most.

It was my greatest nightmare realized. I’d feared that my past might negatively impact her attraction to me. I’d told Cary that Lauren might stay with me for all the wrong reasons. That she might stay by my side, but that I’d still—for all intents and purposes—lose her anyway.

And it seemed I had.

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breakingsomething · 4 years

Text

the fall part seven - the one where everyone hates marvin

basic summary: marvin struggles with morals and knowing when to stop.

trigger warnings: suicidal ideation, injury, talk of medication

tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow

the more marvin got to know anti, the less he felt he understood about him.

marvin just didn't get him. anti was a snarky asshole, sure, and he did occasionally threaten marvin with murder, and he did refuse to call him by his name, instead using the sign for "cat" when referring to him… but he also seemed so painfully human sometimes. on marvin's second visit, marvin had cracked an innocent joke at henrik's expense that made anti laugh, a real laugh that wasn't forced or mocking. and while anti immediately pretended it hadn't happened, it was still so unlike him that it completely threw marvin. not only that, but it started to make him question everything he thought he knew about anti.

he wondered about what naomi had said, about how none of them had ever been close enough to anti to understand him. none of them but jamie. of course, it had never really been an option for them to be friends - anti had made sure of that - but marvin couldn't help but wonder.

speaking of jamie, anti had actually been the first one to mention him at all, about five days after marvin's first visit. "have you seen him?" was the first thing he said.

"i - none of us have, anti. not since you drove him the fuck away," marvin said, crossing his arms. he was surprised anti was still bothering to ask. anti scowled and turned away from marvin, glaring out the window.

"i didn't drive him away," he signed grumpily. "well, i did the first time, i will admit that. but the second time was definitely on you bastards."

marvin scoffed. "oh, how? how us? you were the reason he had fucking nightmares and was afraid to cry in case we slapped him. you were the goddamn problem."

"and that's why he ran away from me," anti said. "me. the first time. i wasn't there the second time. i haven't seen dapper in like a year, kitten. did you never wonder why he left you guys?"

marvin went silent. he realized his leg that wasn't crossed over the other was bouncing rapidly, and pressed his fist down to stop it. "i… have, but i assumed it was just… memories of you." he tilted his head, just looking at anti for a moment. his hair had gotten long enough to hold back in a small bun, and he was wearing the same black t-shirt as the last few times; or what looked the same, anyway. marvin frowned. if anti cut his hair slightly shorter, changed his eye colour to grey and grew a beard and mustache, he could be jamie's identical twin.

"do you miss him?" marvin asked before he could stop himself. anti whipped round, eyes narrowed and glowing bright orange, before turning back to face the window.

"he was just my time traveler," anti signed. "my weapon. i miss him like i miss my fucking kitchen knife."

marvin figured this wasn't true, but didn't press the issue.

a couple visits later, he asked something that had been bothering him. "who is jay, by the way?"

anti visibly flinched at the question.

"who told you that name?" he signed forcefully, his hands slicing through the air sharply. marvin held back a smile.

"you did," he said, trying not to laugh as anti's eyebrows shot into his fringe. "when i came round here the first time. you were, like, hallucinating with your fever or something. you kept calling me jay."

anti stared at marvin for a second, mouth hanging open slightly. marvin giggled at the sight.

"what else did i say?" anti demanded. the tips of his ears had gone red. "tell me!"

marvin smirked, casually leaning back in his chair. "oh, loads of things. so many secrets. you told me all about your secret love for country music, and how you once had a crush on danny devito, and how you've always wanted to play the banjo -"

anti punched marvin's arm, hard enough to leave a bruise, before sinking back into his pillow, exhausted. "fuck you," he signed, very slowly. "now i know you're talking shit." he hesitated, and looked like he was going to say something else before simply signing "bitch."

marvin laughed, before a cold feeling trickled down his back. why was he laughing with this guy? this man who'd hurt his brothers so badly? most importantly, why was anti someone who could even make him laugh? why did he seem so normal?

he still didn't know why he was visiting anti every day.

he hadn't mentioned it to his brothers. not that he'd been talking to them anyway. he had tried with chase several times, but he always brushed him off. marvin was worried for him, and henrik too. really, he wished they'd just talk to him. he wished he had the courage to open up to them himself. he wished jackie hadn't left.

every time he looked at anti's broken nose and arm and many cuts and bruises that still hadn't healed, all he could think about was his brother.

everything was far too confusing these days. marvin thought that if someone had told him a year ago that he would one day be on better terms with anti than jackie, he would have just laughed.

now he didn't know what was going on anymore.

it was two weeks of dumb conversation before anti brought up what they had been avoiding.

"your brothers don't know you're visiting me," anti said. "the feeling of deja vu i'm getting is unreal right now."

marvin had scoffed, sitting back in his chair despite the sudden anxiety coursing through him. "this is different though. obviously. i'm not tor- i'm not - we're just talking."

"you shouldn't be talking with me though, should you?" anti smirked at the look on marvin's face. "your brothers would freak out. doctor especially. and jinx. i mean, to be fair, i can see why they wouldn't exactly be fond of me."

"does your hand get tired signing so much bullshit?" marvin snapped. anti's smile grew, and so did marvin's hatred for the man. "there's nothing wrong with what i'm doing. the situation is - different now."

"is it?" anti signed with raised eyebrows. "then bring your brothers round here. i'm sure they'd love to visit me, and i'm sure they'd love to see how well acquainted the two of us have been getting. jinx could tell us stories about his children, hm?" he laughed, sounding hoarse and strangled. "doctor could tell us about what he did during that two month leave he took back in 2017 when he was about to start his first real job in this same hospital. or - or, speaking of this hospital, which seems to have seen some shit, by the way, we could talk about our old friend jack -"

"shut the fuck up." marvin didn't phrase it as a request. it was a demand, and his eyes were blazing. anti dropped his hand and clasped it with his mostly plastered other one in his lap, smiling still. marvin wanted to fucking strangle him. "my brother is fucking - he's - i -" he shook his head wildly, trying to clear his head. "i don't have to explain myself to you."

anti shrugged, wincing at the pain in his arm. "fine by me. i don't care."

marvin huffed loudly, face burning with anger. "you are such a bastard!"

"why?" anti asked innocently.

marvin stood up suddenly, head rushing from the sudden movement. "fuck you. i'll see you - sometime, maybe."

he walked briskly towards the door, not stopping or looking back to see if anti was saying anything. he continued out of the hospital and caught a bus home, fuming.

he had thought about maybe even visiting jack. but he had never met the man while he was awake, despite apparently being his creation, and he'd only ever visited him with chase before. they were talking of moving him anyway; he wasn't safe so close to anti, but they'd originally had no choice but to keep him there. fuck, it was a lot to think about.

once he got home, he realized he'd forgotten his keys, so he was forced to knock. henrik answered, face souring when he saw who it was. "fuck, you again," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he walked back inside, not waiting to see if marvin would follow him in.

"love you too, henny," marvin said sarcastically, before realizing that if he was going to talk to his brothers about something this important, he shouldn't be an asshole, at least for the moment. "where's chase?"

"in his room," henrik sighed. he was crouching in front of the fridge, rummaging around looking for something. "i don't know what he's doing, maybe... filming, i think. marvin, where is my leftover kung pao chicken? i specifically wrote my name on it and everything."

ah. marvin knew where that was. too late to tell him, though. "no idea, man," he said, making a face behind henrik's back. "listen, i need to talk to you two. about - i'm gonna go get chase, actually, then we'll talk."

"fantastic," henrik grunted, knocking over a carton of eggs and struggling to hold it in his arms while also holding onto the shelf to keep everything else from falling. "can't wait."

marvin left him to his own devices, bounding up the stairs two at a time and knocking on chase's door. "hey, little bro? i have to talk to you and henrik, if that's ok. can you meet us down in the kitchen asap?"

chase didn't reply. marvin frowned and knocked again. "chaser? mi hermano, mon frère, mein bruder, min bror… i can say it in more languages. don't make me do it. come on, bastard, open up."

it was too quiet. marvin's heart was suddenly palpitating with fear, hands trembling slightly. "chase? are you ok?"

and then all he could think about was what chase had told him, the reason he'd had the gun, what he'd been planning to do. how none of them had even noticed. marvin's breath hitched, and he pounded the door even harder.

we took the gun. and henrik's here. he can't have done anything, he can't. nevertheless, marvin yelled in once more, breathing heavily with panic. "chase!" he cried. "chase, come on, open the door or i will break it down with magic, i swear i will -"

"what the fuck are you doing?" came a voice. it was henrik, holding a mug in his hands. marvin struggled to regulate his breathing, staring at him.

luckily, he didn't have to answer. chase's door clicked open, and there he was, bedhead and eye bags and all. chase ran his fingers through his blonde hair, blinking. "the hell?"

"shit!" marvin sobbed, and he threw his arms around his little brother, burying his face in his neck. chase hesitated before hugging him back, and marvin could hear him yawning into his chest.

"what's going on?" henrik demanded. "chase, are you alright?"

"just sleeping," chase mumbled. "sorry i scared you."

"scared - scared us?" henrik moved into marvin's field of vision, arms spread wide in confusion. "what is happening, why would we have been - chase, you were just napping, yes? marvin, what is wrong?"

chase pulled away and looked up and marvin, eyes silently pleading. he'd asked marvin not to tell henrik the truth about the gun, and so far he hadn't, although he felt he definitely should. marvin turned back to henrik, taking a shaking breath. "it's nothing, i'm just paranoid."

henrik shook his head. "don't you lie to me. what's going on?"

marvin could not deal with this right now. "henrik, i -"

chase stepped back, hands in the air in front of him. "listen, it was - it was all - i just -"

"i've been visiting anti in hospital!" marvin blurted out, unable to take the tension.

that seemed to work. the two brothers turned to him, identical expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces.

"you've… you've what?" henrik said softly. chase didn't say anything, just blinked rapidly, wringing his hands in front of him.

marvin winced. "guys, i… i didn't mean for it to turn into what it is. i just wanted to - to understand why -"

"have you forgotten what he's done?" henrik said. his quiet, flat tone was making marvin's heart race faster, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. "have you - he's - marvin, he is literally in the same hospital as jack. jack, our friend, mine and chase's best friend - jack who anti put in hospital, jack who anti put in a coma. have you forgotten? do you need reminded of - how, how, can you stand to -"

"i just want answers," marvin interrupted. "i don't know what else to do."

"marvin, the second he is out of hospital, he will go right back to trying to kill us!" henrik shouted without warning. his eyes were wild behind his glasses. "i don't - i don't even know what they will do once he is better, given that he's a fucking murderer, given that he's kidnapped children and put people in comas - what kind of answers do you want from him?"

"i don't know!" marvin cried. his nails dug into his palm, and to his horror, tears filled up his eyes. he tried to blink them away, taking shaky breaths. "i guess i just needed something that you couldn't give me, considering we've all completely glossed over everything that happened! it's been, what, two months since we lost jackie? and yet, not one of us is talking about what happened -"

henrik makes a noise of frustration. "you talk like he's dead -"

"he might as well be!" marvin inhales sharply, his whole chest shaking. "he might as well be dead! that's something we're not talking about either!"

"so you found solace in anti," henrik said, voice suddenly flat again. "instead of your own brothers, your brothers who love you. well done."

"'brothers who love me' - that's rich, henrik, coming from you," marvin spat. "you've never had anything but contempt for me, you hated me from the moment we met."

"like the feeling wasn't mutual," henrik shots back. he had his arms crossed in an x shape on his chest, like he was holding himself up. "like you didn't despise me too. you aren't a fucking victim here, marvin. in fact, you're - you're the only one here who's not a victim!" he barked out a harsh laugh. "i was kidnapped by that man, held in a basement scared out of my mind for almost two months, getting b-beaten whenever i tried to shout - chase's kids were stolen, he spent three weeks in prison - what about you, marvin? what has anti taken from you?"

marvin was silent, his stomach rolling. he kept eye contact with henrik, refusing to look away, and his brother gives him a cold smile. "exactly. exactly. it's enough that you rescued him when you could have just left him, it's enough that -"

"couldn't leave him to die," marvin choked out, voice suddenly hoarse. "not at jackie's hand. not at my brother's hand, my big brother who i thought would never hurt a soul - not him. i couldn't."

"tell me," henrik said. "did you enjoy seeing him hurt? would you have saved him if it had been anyone other than jackie on the other end of the knife?"

there it was. that question he had been asking himself, the question he said he didn't know the answer to. the question he did know the answer to.

"yes," marvin said quietly. "and no."

he stared at the floor, unable to watch his brother's face contort in disgust and anger. marvin's tears fell to the carpet beneath his feet.

"that's what i thought," henrik said quietly. "and that just - oh, that just makes what you're doing so much worse."

marvin shook his head, glancing back up. "i just want to understand…"

he trailed off. henrik waited, and when marvin didn't continue, he snorted. "continue whenever you feel like it."

"i want to figure out why jackie did what he did," marvin said loudly, face flushing with rage and shame. "i want to understand him, i want to understand anti, i want to -"

"there is nothing to fucking understand about anti," henrik interrupted, taking a step forward to get closer to marvin. "he's a monster. he hurts people. me and chase saw him, saw what he was like - you tell him, chase!"

they turned to look at chase for the first time since they'd started fighting, and were both surprised to see he had slumped halfway down the wall, hands covering his face. his whole body was shaking, falling forwards and backwards with the force of his breathing.

"chase?" henrik asked uncertainly. "are you -"

"shut the fuck up," chase whispered. "just shut the fuck up."

he turned and raced into his room, his hands leaving his face to open the door just long enough for them to see he was crying.

marvin and henrik were silent.

"fuck," henrik murmured. he ran a hand over his head round the back of his neck. "fuck."

he whipped round to face marvin. "this is your fault," he hissed. even through his glasses, marvin could see the wetness of his eyes. without another word, henrik turned on heel and marched down the stairs, a door slamming somewhere out of marvin's view. he stared at the space where he'd been standing, fingers numb.

his asshole marvin list just kept getting longer.

the next day, he decided to call naomi.

he'd made many mistakes in the past two months, but this was something he could fix. marvin sat down on his room's windowsill, curling up into himself as he clicked her name in his contacts. if he couldn't fix things with his brothers, he was at least going to try with naomi.

she didn't answer the first two times. on the third attempt, she picked up right as the dial was about to end. "pye?" she mumbled. "hey, haven't heard from you in like, two weeks."

marvin smacked his head off his knees. "i'm sorry," he said softly. "in case you can't tell, i'm kind of a coward. and, uh, i'm bad at fixing my mistakes and… being a good person in general."

"no you're not," naomi said. "i was being a dick too. i didn't realize - i shouldn't have pushed you when i know what anti is like."

marvin shifted on the spot uncomfortably. "well, i shouldn't have started yelling, and i especially shouldn't have said the word -"

"insane?" naomi finished. "it's ok. i get it, i - i would have been pissed off too if i were you."

"no, but - but anger doesn't give me the right to be a bitch," marvin protested. "i can understand where you were coming from, too, and i understand you don't know everything about anti."

there was a pause, and marvin listened to naomi breathe and the kids playing outside in the late summer sun.

"maybe we're both assholes," naomi said eventually, and she laughed quietly. "i - marvin, i'm sorry. i've not been myself."

he hesitated, tapping his foot on the floor and knocking his other knee against the window in time. "are you alright?"

she sniffed, and something clattered on the other end of the line. "at this exact moment in time? i suppose."

"what about in general?"

"i… don't know. i - fuck. i am not - i think i might be forgetting english." she giggles awkwardly.

marvin smiled, though she couldn't see it. "no, it's ok. i speak some swedish. languages man here, hello. tell me what you wanna say."

she took a breath. "allt är fel," she mumbled. "jag vet inte."

marvin took a moment to figure out what she was saying. "um… why do you think everything is wrong?"

naomi sniffed again, louder. "i don't know how to explain. i mean… it may have something to do with how i haven't taken my medication in weeks."

"you - fuck, why?" marvin cried before lowering his voice again. "naomi, it's important to keep taking them consistently so that -"

"i know," she snapped. "or… i thought i knew. then i… i started feeling worse again, and i thought it wasn't working, that i didn't need them anyway and could get better without them. i know how dumb that is, but when i'm in that kind of state…" she trailed off.

"it's ok, i get it," marvin reassured. "have you been going to -"

a loud beep resounded in his ears. he pulled his phone away from his face, wincing, only to see he was getting another call from a number he was getting used to seeing. he bit his lip and returned his phone to his ear. "nai, i'm, uh, getting a call from the hospital. i'm so sorry, can i call you back? i know how important this is, but -"

"no, it's cool," naomi interrupted hurriedly. "take it, that could be more important. i'll call you tonight." she paused. "love you, pye."

a ridiculous smile spread across his face, and he briefly clapped his hand over his mouth. "i… love you too, nai."

he could hear her giggling as she hung up and marvin answered the call from the hospital. his smile immediately disappeared, however, when he heard dr reid's distressed tone on the other end.

"marvin?" she said. "is anti with you? he - he's left, somehow. i don't understand how, he shouldn't be able to leave without - is he with you? tell me he's with you. marvin? marvin, are you there?"

two months prior

jackie only knew of one place to go. one person he could trust.

what was his address, again? jackie was hurt badly and barely conscious; normally, in this state, he would have gone to his friend curro for help, but marvin knew where he lived and could potentially find him there. and marvin was a traitor. traitor, traitor, cared more for anti than his own brothers. fucking pig. jackie had to stop him. had to stop him before his brothers got hurt.

his necklace was pulsing underneath his hoodie, heating up against his skin. baboom, baboom, it went. like a heartbeat. in fact, if jackie stopped moving… it was in time with his own heartbeat. what a strange coincidence. what a very strange coincidence.

street names flashed in front of him. buildings, streetlamps, lit up signs and cars and people. very dark. jackie usually hated the dark - it negatively affected his photokinesis. tonight, he loved it. revelled in the pitch black shadows that warmed his body like they never used to.

then he was knocking at a door. he was glad his new magic had teleported him so close - actually, fuck, when had he learned he could do that? how had he done that? the cold surface of the door felt nice against his face. calmed his thoughts. fuck, fuck, his head was spinning.

then the door was being pulled open and he whined at the loss of contact, clinging to the doorframe so he wouldn't fall. "jackson?" came a familiar voice. "what are you… what are you doing here?"

jackie opened his eyes, staring up at the confused blonde man standing in the doorway. without a word of explanation, he leaned forwards and pulled the man into a clumsy kiss, letting go of the frame to grab hold of his coat.

for a moment, the other man kissed him back, then pushed him off just as quickly. "dude, what - you're bleeding, you're fucking bleeding, come inside quickly. what - what happened, can you talk?"

jackie's breathing was heavy and irregular, and only wheezing gasps came out when he opened his mouth. "fuck," the other man said. "do you have your inhaler with you?"

jackie shook his head rapidly, which was a bad idea considering how dizzy he was. he took one step forward into the flat and promptly fainted, the floor rushing ever closer.

when he woke, he was no longer in the floor. jackie was laying on a bed; a familiar bed. ok, so he knew where he was. how had he gotten here? he didn't remember.

"you're awake, thank the stars," said the man, walking into the room with a bundle in hand. jackie noted hazily that his own hoodie had been stripped, leaving just his bloodstained shirt. "can you tell me what happened?"

"mm," jackie vocalized, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. everything ached, and when he rolled his sleeves up, he could already see bruises forming. he didn't dare to look at his chest, where it was definitely worse. "brothers… kicked me out, magic's going crazy, i didn't mean to hurt - didn't mean to hurt anyone, aaron, i swear -"

"shh, calm down, calm down," aaron soothed, sitting on the bed and pressing his legs against jackie's. he placed a hand on his boyfriend's face, gently running his fingers down his skin to his lips. "you're hurt. who did this? and what do you mean, your brothers kicked you out? did they find out about… about the whole black magic thing?"

jackie tried to nod, but his head hurt too much. "yeah," he managed instead. "i… aaron, i didn't know where else to… you're the only other one who knows about this."

"you're lucky i know how to treat wounds," aaron told him, dropping the bundle of clothes next to the bed. "and that i care about you enough to use my rarer magics that i save for necessary occasions."

"don't understand why you care about me so much," jackie mumbled as aaron helped him lay back down. "you've only known me, like… four months."

"ten, actually," aaron said. he pressed his lips gently to jackie's forehead, drawing a small breath out of him. "stay still, i'm gonna take a look at your chest."

"can i stay here?" jackie blurted. he blinked rapidly, trying to stop his vision from blurring. "p-please? i - i don't have anywhere else to go… i know i'm not supposed to speak with you, i know you c-could get in tr-trouble from the organization, but i can't - aaron -"

"relax," aaron murmured. "of course you can stay. i'm risking a lot by dating you anyway. if the organization found out, they'd have my head. possibly literally, depending on how they're feeling."

jackie was silent, letting aaron play with his hair. his eyes fluttered closed and he let out a contented sigh despite his current state of injury. then, "'m sorry. love you, aar… aaron, i…"

he passed out again before he could finish.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #jackieboy man #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #naomi gudmundson #aaron mckenzie #the fall

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kaleidescope-writes · 4 years

Text

Heart of Audrilluria- Chapter XIX; The Verdict

Modern Fairytale AU

Prince King!Tom Hiddleston x Thief! Reader

Song: Hidden Feelings

Please read the Author’s Note

The sun shone through the open cracks of the wood boarded window. The sun was out, it had to be around six in the morning. That meant Vie still wasn’t awake. Y/N stood up in her small bed, looking around the room at the partially lit room at the decaying walls. Turning to her left, she looked over to Amelie’s sleeping form. “Hey,” she whispered, “We have to go.” Amelie stirred in her sleep, “Five more minutes.” Y/N got up from her bed, taking a step towards her and shaking her awake. “For a morning person, you’re kind of lazy,” Y/N teased, pulling the covers off her. “For a brokenhearted person, you’re not mopey and sad,” Amelie groaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I’m not mopey and sad because I’ve come to terms with never seeing him again,” Y/N replies, turning away to get her things ready, “Yes it hurts, but I have to get over it some day. I hurt him. I’m not surprised if he never wants to see me again.” Amelie sighs, giving her a sympathetic look.

“I know it hurts,” Amelie comforted, “I hear you crying at night. I’m so sorry for how this turned out.” Y/N looks back at her, shaking her head, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have gotten too close.” Amelie gave her one last soft expression before standing up and getting ready for the day.

“So, where are we headed?” Amelie asked, walking out into the hall to the door. “We are going to the handler to get the pay for the necklace,” Y/N responded, walking through the door frame and leaving the house. “I don’t suppose we’re taking the car,” Amelie muttered as they walked toward the street, beginning their trip to the person that would give them the money they needed for the stolen relic. “Nope,” Y/N replied smugly, “It’s not that far a walk. Besides, we need to burn off all the pastries we ate in paradise.” Amelie sighed longingly, catching up with her sister, “They tasted like heaven.” Y/N chuckled as they continued walking down the street.

The handler was waiting for them in a restaurant five blocks away from the hell house they grew up in. They should arrive fifteen minutes after they’d left the house. “He said he’ll be waiting for us at the furthest table from the door. He’s wearing a sky blue button up. We can’t miss him,” Y/N explained, keeping a relatively fast pace as they made their way to the restaurant, holding a secure bag containing the necklace. “Ok, perfect,” Amelie nodded, “While we walk, how about we have a conversation.” Y/N turned to look at her in confusion, “About what?”

“About him,” Amelie proposed, still looking out in front of her towards the busy street. Y/N slowed her steps at her words. Here we go. “I know you don’t want to get into specifics, but you can talk to me about it,” Amelie tried, slowing down with her. Y/N let out a sigh, “What do you want me to say? I practically told you everything earlier.” Amelie shrugged, “Maybe you can tell me how it felt? Before having to end things. How did it feel to be in love for the first time?” Y/N looked away, trying to find the right words to use. “It was,” she began, stopping herself to think for a moment, “It was wonderful. The way we danced on both occasions was something I can’t even begin to explain. It just felt.. Magical. I never thought I could lose sight of a job’s objective, but when I was with him, I lost track of everything and just delved into those sweet moments,” she explained in a yearning tone, “When I was with him, I felt as if I was more than just a thief. I felt that for once in my life, I could be truly and unconditionally happy. It was something I had never felt before.” Y/N looked down at her feet, the realization settling in, “And it’s something I know I’ll probably never feel again.” Amelie gave her another sad smile, “It sounds nice.”

“It was nice,” Y/N whispered, “It was nice and so much more.” Amelie put her left hand on Y/N’s right shoulder, “At least one of us was able to experience it.”

They continued their trip in a comfortable silence. Upon arriving at their destination, they were approached by a police officer before they could get close to the door. “Excuse me ladies,” he began, stopping them from going any further, “Are you by any chance the L/N sisters?” Amelie and Y/N looked at each other in confusion, not wanting to respond to his question in fear something had gone wrong. “I think you have us confused with someone else,” Y/N replied dismissively, trying to get out of that situation as quickly as possible. The officer’s partner approached them, taking out a paper and showing it to them, revealing their pictures with their names. “Lying to an officer is not a good idea,” he warned, “Would you like to try again?” Both sisters had a matching face of shock. What was this about?

“We’re going to need you to come with us,” the first officer began, “Someone has been looking for the two of you.” Amelie straightened her posture, “And if we choose not to come peacefully?” The second officer gave her a look and brought out his cuffs, “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to arrest the two of you.” The sisters shared a look, thinking about their next course of action carefully.

~~~~~~~~~~

After about five minutes of driving, they arrived at the police station and parked in front of the entrance. Both girls were led out by one of the officers and taken inside. They walked down the hall where they were met by another two officers, one with a pair of handcuffs and the other asking for the bag Y/N was carrying. The handcuffs were placed on their wrists and they were led to the door of the interrogation room. Once the door was opened, Y/N’s heart dropped to her knees and she almost collapsed.

Standing next to a detective was the very man she never expected to see again. The man she’d fallen in love with in Audrilluria. The man whose heart she broke. “Have a seat, ladies,” the detective instructed. Both girls took their respective seats, Y/N unable to take her eyes off of Thomas. She felt that if she looked away for even half a second, he would disappear. “I’m sure both of you know why you are here,” the detective began, “And I’m sure both of you know who this is.” He motioned to Thomas, who’s expression was of anger and determination. His eyes went back and forth between both sisters, not daring to look into Y/N’s eyes for too long.

“You might be wondering how you were found,” the detective continued, “Apparently, one of your moles by the name of Edmundo wasn’t able to make it off Blythenon before her was apprehended.” Amelie looked up at the detective, placing her cuffed hands on the table in front of her. “So you know we have it,” she stated, deciding not to play dumb. “Of course we do,” he shrugged, “What his highness wants to know is why.”

“If his highness wants to know so badly, he should ask us himself,” Amelie snapped, turning to look Thomas in the eye. Thomas merely shifted his weight, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned into the wall behind him. “How many more people did you have working for you in the castle?” Thomas asked in a deep, darkened tone. “We don’t know,” Amelie replied simply, “They worked for Edmundo, not for us.” Thomas turned to Y/N, who never looked away from him for a second.

“What were your true intentions?” He asked, maintaining the same tone as before. “I think our intentions were pretty obvious,” Amelie snarked. “I wasn’t asking you,” Thomas raised his voice, “I was asking your currently mute sister.” Y/N flinched at his slight change. He turned to her again, giving her an expectant look. Y/N’s eyes began to form small tears. “Thomas, I--,” she choked out, “My intentions were never to hurt you.” Thomas straightened his posture, his expression changing briefly before going back to one of anger before Y/N could decipher what it was. “Take Ms. Amelie to another room,” He instructed the detective without taking his eyes off of Y/N, “I need a moment alone with her.”

The detective followed his order wordlessly and exited the room with Amelie, leaving them alone in a tense silence. The way Thomas was looking at her made her feel weak in the worst way possible. She couldn’t take knowing that the man she’d known to be cheerful and positive most of the time was enraged by something she did. Everything he was feeling was because of her.

“Please just say something,” Y/N pleaded, trying desperately to get any reaction from him. Thomas merely leaned his hands on the table, lowering his head slightly. “Like what?” he asked in a harsher tone than before, “Should I confess to you only to have you break my heart again, or should I save myself the trouble?” Y/N let out a desperate sigh, “I didn’t mean to hurt you! I didn’t want to do this to you but I didn’t have a choice!”

“There’s always a choice, Y/N!” he yelled, “Just spare me the trouble and tell me the truth!” “You want the truth?” Y/N asked, a few tears falling from her eyes, “Fine. I was an orphan all my life. My parents died when Amelie and I were children. We were left alone on the streets because no one wanted to take us in. This woman took us to what we thought was going to be our new home. She raised us to be thieves and when we were old enough to fight back, she threatened to hurt other children she took in to make us pay!” The room fell into silence as Y/N spoke the last word. “If I didn’t steal the heart, Vie would have left seven children out in the streets to suffer,” she cried.

Thomas stood from his position, looking away briefly as Y/N tried to regain herself. Another long moment of silence passed as Thomas thought of what to say next. “Did you mean it?” he asked, still not looking at her, “Did you mean anything you said to me?” Y/N gave him a pained smile, “Of course I did. I meant every word I said to you. I meant what I wrote to you on the night of the coronation. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to stay.” Thomas turned back to her in mild surprise, tears of his own forming in his eyes. “I wanted nothing more than to be with you for the rest of my life. I still want that,” Y/N confessed, tears running down her cheeks, “I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.”

Thomas took a breath, looking away as a single tear stained his now solemn face. He stayed looking towards the door for a long moment. Y/N was prepared for his rejection. She knew he was hurt and frankly she didn’t blame him if he decided to walk out and never look back. But having him make any decision and make it known to her was better than dealing with the crippling, uncertain silence that fell upon them again.

“Y/N L/N, “Thomas began, “You have stolen from my kingdom and used some of my people against me.” Y/N closed her eyes, letting her head drop to her shoulders. “You have betrayed Audrilluria and impersonated a member of Audrilluria’s council of allies. For that, I sentence you and your sister to life in Audrilluria for your multiple crimes against my kingdom.” He took a step closer to her, catching her attention and making her look up. “Your sister will be sentenced to serving the people of Audrilluria in any way I see fit. As for you, I sentence you to spend the rest of your life by my side.”

Y/N looked at him in a mixture of confusion and hope. “You and your sister will return with me to Blythenon where you will begin your sentence immediately after you set foot on Audrillurian soil. For the rest of your life, you’re mine.” Y/N lost her breath, unable to completely process what he was saying. She stood from her seat, cheeks still stained with the continuous flow of tears. She gave him a wide smile before he approached her with a softer look in his eyes. “For the rest of your life,” he whispered, holding her chin up with his index finger and thumb, “You will stay by my side and be my queen. Only then will you be pardoned for your crimes.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle, but needy kiss to her soft lips. The lips he craved for so long. The lips that were finally his to claim forever. Y/N melted into the kiss, bringing her cuffed hands up to his face as he wrapped his free arm around her waist. A surge of passion enveloped them as the kiss lasted longer than the ones they shared previously.

When the need for air became too much to ignore, they pulled away, keeping each other within reach. “You and I will leave for Audrilluria this afternoon, along with Amelie and the children you have protected.” Thomas whispered as he stared deep into her eyes. Y/N pulled away further, “What about Vie?”

“That woman will be locked up for everything she has done. As king, I have enough influence to make that happen quicker,” Thomas reassured, still holding onto his love. Y/N smiled lovingly, “So what now?” Thomas pulls away, taking out a key and unlocking her handcuffs to free her, “Now, we pack your things, Amelie’s things, the replica, and prepare the children to leave for Audrilluria and never come back to this life.” Y/N rubbed her wrists before wrapping her arms around his neck. “I like that plan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: SURPRISE!!! I have waited to post this chapter since I first started writing this series. I’m so glad I finally get to post it. What did you think? Let me know in the comments as I am curious to how this made you feel. Also, I want to give a quick shout out to @accio-boys for the Designated Song as well as the fic covers for both Tumblr and Wattpad. She does really amazing graphics for fics or whatever you may need. Her work is extremely good and looks absolutely professional. I just want to spread the word of how talented she is because she honestly deserves it! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed today’s chapter. There are only two more chapters left in the series, but stay tuned for a special announcement in the Author’s Note of the last chapter. Also, Tomorrow before I post Chapter 20, I will post a 100 follower Q&A special where you guys can ask my about absolutely anything regarding the fic, future works, myself, or just anything you want to know. Stay tuned for that. I love you guys so much, thank you tremendously for all the support you’ve given me throughout the series. I seriously can’t put into words how thankful I am for each and every one of you. Stay safe and please take care!! 💖💖💖

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