#but almost equal chance of anything else as well given it is Year Of Our Lord 2005 when this takes place and uh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

I saw you mention this in one of your posts and this sounds like a swell idea! Something where JGY figures out that NHS is The Scary One before he touches a hair on NMJ’s head. :D

on ao3

When his father said that someone ought to get rid of Nie Mingjue, that he was in their way, that he would never stop, Jin Guangyao’s first thought was about the Song of Clarity that Lan Xichen was teaching him – and the Song of Turmoil, that he’d taught himself in one of his secret visits to the Lan sect library. He’d long ago noticed the similarities between the two tunes, one to help and the other to harm; it wasn’t similar enough to fool anyone skilled in music, of course, much less in musical cultivation, but Nie Mingjue rather infamously wasn’t.

His second thought was: let’s wait and see.

Perhaps it was only that it had been a very long day, and Jin Guangyao was tired, feeling unusually surly and dissatisfied. But it occurred to him that it wouldn’t do his father any harm to have to actually ask for something from him, rather than merely hint at it and have Jin Guangyao run to do it for him before he even finished the sentence – a rather unpleasant comparison had been made between Jin Guangyao and a poodle earlier that day, and he was still sore.

So yes.

Let’s wait and see.

Waiting was not, it seemed, paying off.

His father’s hinting had grown all the more intense, although he had not yet actually asked, and as for Nie Mingjue...

Nie Mingjue had promised to try to trust him again, Jin Guangyao thought to himself with a sigh, but most days it seemed that the only thing he trusted was that Jin Guangyao was up to something.

He scolded and he scowled and he questioned, always looking for loopholes and tricks hidden behind every word and gesture, never giving him the benefit of the doubt on a single thing. Jin Guangyao thought nostalgically back to the days when Nie Mingjue would simply present him with a problem that needed taking care of and tell him to deal with it as he saw fit, trusting not only in his competence in dealing with it but also in his judgment of how things ought to be resolved.

They said that trust was like a priceless porcelain vase: once shattered, it would never be whole again, even if it was repaired.

Jin Guangyao supposed that he deserved it for letting himself get caught like that. An amateur’s mistake, but you only needed one of those to ruin everything.

But if it couldn’t be fixed…

He was just contemplating the Song of Turmoil again as he walked through the halls of the Unclean Realm when Nie Huaisang unexpectedly tackled him around the waist, making him Jin Guangyao stagger back and nearly fall – poor cultivator or no, Nie Huaisang had some heft to him, and plenty of muscle from years of running from his brother’s attempts to make him train.

“You have to help me, san-ge!” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide and pathetic in such a patently unauthentic way that Jin Guangyao had an immediate stabbing feeling of empathy, an affliction he almost never suffered from. What a little scoundrel you are, he thought, not without fondness. “Da-ge’s on my case again. Scolding and scowling and trying to catch me in some sort of trick – and I would never play a trick on him, never - not in a million years -”

It occurred to Jin Guangyao that perhaps Nie Mingjue really did treat him as a younger brother, and it was only that he’d incorrectly assumed that he’d be treated as being somewhat more capable than the man’s actual younger brother.

Who was, he conceded, probably equally untrustworthy when it came to the likelihood of playing tricks on his too-earnest older brother, even if the tricks Nie Huaisang generally played were significantly lower in both quality and importance than his own…

“Huaisang! Where are you – ah, Meng Yao. What are you doing here?” Nie Mingjue asked, blinking at him. “Anything urgent?”

“Ah – no?” Jin Guangyao said. “I came to play for you, da-ge, you remember – er-ge said –”

“Right, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, in the tones of a man who had completely forgotten. “Could I borrow you for something else while you’re here? Perhaps Huaisang will learn better if it’s not just me.”

“Of course, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao said. It was always better to do someone a favor than the other way around, to better use it later, and Nie Mingjue almost never asked him for anything. “What are you trying to teach him?”

“How to run a sect,” Nie Mingjue said, lifting Nie Huaisang by the waist. “No, Huaisang,” he added when the younger man whined. “You do not get a choice.”

With that said, he lifted the younger man above his head – Nie Huaisang, as mentioned, was not light, but Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to notice – and walked back towards his office.

Jin Guangyao followed, torn between wondering if this was the reason that the ceilings in the Unclean Realm were all so high and being unable to keep himself from doing the math: Nie Huaisang weighed more than Jin Guangyao did, being both heavier and thicker around the middle, so if it was Jin Guangyao that Nie Mingjue was holding, it could be estimated that he could hold him up for at least an hour, and even longer if he was braced against something convenient such as a wall –

He shook his head to rid himself of the useless thoughts. He would need all his cunning about him if he was going to embark on the difficult mission of trying to get Nie Huaisang to actually learn something, especially something as boring as sect management.

Questions of assassination were, comparatively, much easier.

The problem, Jin Guangyao discovered, was not, as he’d suspected, in keeping Nie Huaisang’s attention.

It was in everything else.

“ – and the sect leader is now requesting assistance,” Nie Mingjue concluded his summary of the situation behind the letter that they had received, laying out both the actual content of the letter, the implications behind it, and the background necessary to make a decision so efficiently that Jin Guangyao lost his head for a moment and imagined what life would be like if he could hire Nie Mingjue as his deputy. His life would be so much easier. “How do you respond?”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “That’s obvious!”

It was. The request was far more than this particular sect really deserved, given its past behavior (rather despicable) and the moderately high chance that they were simply trying to get the Nie sect to pay for benefits that would later go to themselves or, at best, the Jiang sect, but granting the request would not seriously damage the Nie sect’s coffers and would lay the groundwork for a better relationship in the future –

“We write a letter that heavily hints about what we know that the sect leader did in the past, expressing our concern and indicating that we received the information from the Jiang sect in a moment of indiscretion,” Nie Huaisang said happily. “He’ll be so distraught at the thought of potential blackmail from them that he’ll beg us for assistance, and we’ll be able to extract additional benefits before finally agreeing to –”

“No, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, even as Jin Guangyao boggled at the sheer wretched cleverness of the idea. It would work perfectly to isolate the other party through their own paranoia, leaving them feeling that they had no other way out but to throw themselves on the Nie sect’s mercy – there wasn’t a limit to what could be extracted that way. “If he’s so untrustworthy as all that, we don’t actually want him, do we? He’ll just betray us next time he can. No, we write to him the way we would anyone who wasn’t our dependent and lay out our terms, free and clear; if he wants better ones, he knows what to do.”

“People don’t have to be trustworthy to be useful, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang whined, and the infantile tone of his voice very nearly disguised the fact that he was saying something incredibly insightful. Not at all something Jin Guangyao would have expected to come out of the mouth of one of the Nie sect, much less Nie Huaisang, the most useless of them all. “They don’t even have to know they’re being used to be useful! I can think of at least three ways we could use –”

“The answer is no. Besides, I thought you liked Sect Leader Jiang?”

“Yes, but he’s far too direct to be dealing with someone like this – think of it as us ridding him of a pest! We could –”

“Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang sighed.

“ – but if you would only consider what we could achieve with just a little bit of bribery –”

“Huaisang.”

“But it’s such a small amount! I could do it with my own pocket money!”

“Huaisang.”

“Ugh, fine, have it your way, we’ll just ask, I guess…”

“Oh, wow, that’s a tough one. Uh…murder?”

“Huaisang!”

“What?! It was a reasonable guess!”

“It was not a reasonable guess!”

“We wouldn’t let anyone know that we were the ones that – I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Huaisang. You’re making it worse.”

“I’m guessing the answer isn’t going to be blackmail?”

“That’s correct.”

“And not it’s bribery, either.”

“No.”

“Definitely not beating him up…”

“Huaisang, are you trying to get the answer by process of elimination?”

“It’s a valid strategy to figure out the answers to test questions!”

“This isn’t a test question, it’s real life!”

“No, it’s a test, because if it was real life, I could use blackmail.”

“…you know what,” Nie Huaisang said after a couple of moments of serious contemplation. “I actually have no idea what I’d do in that situation. San-ge? Can I have an assist?”

Jin Guangyao had managed, over the past shichen or so, to get ahold of himself. He shrugged apologetically. “I must admit that I’m at a loss myself. It seems like an especially tricky situation.”

The situation in question involved the crimes of an extremely well-connected individual, with interests from all over the cultivation world deep in his pockets; he would be a difficult man to cross. Moreover, he was well known for his perfidy, rendering blackmail useless, and well-off enough to make bribes pointless; mere intimidation was also out, given his connections – he’d already gone through a “trial”, if it could be described as such, and he’d only used it to cleanse himself. In such a situation, Jin Guangyao would probably hang back out of caution, seeking further information and hoping that an appropriate situation would appear that he could take advantage, but Nie Mingjue had specified that there was a time limit involved…

Nie Mingjue groaned. “You’re both overthinking it: for once, murder is the right answer.”

“Wait, it is?” Jin Guangyao asked, staring at him blankly. “I mean - what exactly do you mean, murder?”

“The man slaughtered children in broad daylight! The evidence is unquestionable and undeniable; he should be executed immediately.”

“But – his connections –”

“That’s why there’s a time limit,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes on both of them. “If you do it quickly enough, it gets attributed to the hair-trigger Nie temper going out of control and everyone treats it like a casualty in the face of a force of nature – the same way you’d shrug off the death of someone who got in the way of a hurricane or tsunami.”

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang said. “I see.”

Jin Guangyao envied him: he most certainly did not see. Since when was outright murder a possible weapon in the Nie sect’s diplomatic arsenal?

“Speaking of which, I’ve already delayed long enough, trying to teach you something,” Nie Mingjue added. “Huaisang, can you host Meng Yao for dinner? I’ll be back later this evening.”

“Of course, da-ge! Count on me!”

Nie Mingjue nodded at them both and strode out without another word.

“…where is he going?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“Presumably to go murder someone,” Nie Huaisang said, as if it were obvious, and then laughed, presumably at Jin Guangyao’s expression. “He always makes me practice with real questions, you know, though he does save them up if he can.”

“That wasn’t what I was surprised about,” Jin Guangyao admitted, because he’d already figured out – possibly for the first time – that Nie Huaisang almost certainly already knew what he was like under the smile. “It’s just…murder? Really? Da-ge?”

“Da-ge’s righteous, not kind,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “Leave questions of mercy to the Lan sect! Here we believe that showing excess mercy to evildoers is itself committing a harm to their victims…ah, well, let’s not talk about it, shall we? If we do, I’ll just get another headache from trying to figure out the line between what I’m allowed to do and what I’m not allowed to do.”

“You know perfectly well what you’re allowed to do,” Jin Guangyao said, deliberately keeping his voice light rather than accusing. “You just want your brother to be a bit more open-minded.”

“He won’t be.” Nie Huaisang’s voice was fond. “He’s willing to pull those sorts of tricks when he has to – our exculpated murderer is an excellent example – but he’s never going to understand why anyone would pull a nasty trick if they had another choice…it’s just the way he is.”

He laughed, taking out his fan – a new one, Jin Guangyao observed – and lightly nudged Jin Guangyao in the side even as he hid his smile behind it.

“It’s fine, though,” he said. “Isn’t that why he has people like us?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said, following Nie Huaisang to the dinner table, thoughts running through his mind. The Song of Turmoil – it would still work, more than likely, because Nie Mingjue would let him play it for him and him alone, and even Nie Huaisang needed clay to build bricks. But if he did it, and Nie Huaisang ever found out…

He thought that he might not like being Nie Huaisang’s opponent.

He wasn’t sure which one of them would win and which would lose, of course, and he rather thought he’d bet on himself, but in all honesty he wouldn’t like to try.

“In fact,” he said casually, “Huaisang, if you don’t mind, I have another situation that I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on.”

“Not another one,” Nie Huaisang whined, but his eyes narrowed in blatant curiosity. “But all right, all right, just one more. Only for you, san-ge, and only because I like you so much.”

Jin Guangyao smiled. “I appreciate it. Now, for the situation: assume there are two sect leaders, and one of them wishes to eliminate the other through underhanded means…”

“Murder, I think,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “No – most definitely murder. There is no other path forward. The only question is, I suppose: how much do you want your father to suffer during the process?”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

It was so nice to work with people that understood.

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #under the smile #this one was fun #Anonymous

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Little Witch - Part 10

The Darkling x Reader

*I’ve changed this part like 5 times so if there’s any inconsistencies I do apologize 😝

In a perfect world, you and Aleksander would have spent the day in his luxurious bed surrounded by his soft silk sheets. You felt an overwhelming feeling to open up to him, to tell him everything that happened to you since you saw him last, nearly a century ago, but life has a way to ruin perfect opportunities.

Wars didn't take breaks or vacations, they got more deadly as time went on and each side got more nervous as more people gave their lives to the cause. A solution was necessary and from your understanding, Aleksander still had the same plan as he did all those years ago he just had a different way to go about them. No doubt Alina was at the center of them.

You had business to attend to too. The first on the list was a meeting with the council. The King and his advisors were to be there to 'greet' you with open arms, but you were sure you'd have to put on a quick performance of your abilities to satisfy their curious minds.

Maybe that's why he gave me the shadows, to ensure my position. You quickly brushed off the thought. It didn't really matter to you why he did what he did. You had your shadows back. He claimed protection, but you knew there was a different reason behind it as well. It seemed too quick and too easy in your opinion but who were you to judge what kind of trust he truly had in you. You felt comfort that you always had piece of him wherever you went.

On a lighter note, you could finally wear a black kefta. The thought itself had you quickly leaping out of his bed and skipping to your chambers in a mere robe through the secret passages of the Palace. You didn't want anybody to see you leaving his quarters, not in the state you were in. You needed to grab a Healer and get rid of those very visible marks on your neck that Aleksander took his time creating. He intended to mark you as his own but jokes on him, you never wanted to belong to anybody but yourself.

Time passed and servents scurried in and out of your chambers, carrying information from here there and everywhere. You were already overwhelmed with tasks and your position wasn't even announced to the Palace yet. You were still the mysterious Grisha that served with the Darkling, not for.

Your vanity was covered in papers and reports in handwriting you had trouble reading and your bed had maps strung across it. Aleksander truly meant it when he said he would get you started right away and share his responsibilities as soon as he got the chance.

When the time finally came, you were escorted to the Grand Palace with Aleksander walking right next to you. The conversation was devoted to work and nothing else, Fjerdan intel, rumors of West Ravka and Zlatan, and upcoming skiff journeys but you didn't mind. You were damn good at your job, having started out in the First Army and then joining the Second Army had given you experience not even the General had, it's what made you the first pick when dealing with plans involving otkazat'sya soldiers, they respected you. I wonder if they will now.

You had spent 3 years in the First Army once upon a time. You came from a wealthy merchant family, a family full of drunks and abusers and cowards. You gave up the feeling of a full stomach and duck-feathered beds for the rations of the army once your mother admitted to you being a bastard and not worthy of the family name. What a shame. Look at me now.

You never knew what you could do, but a slip-up with a Tidemaker had you served to the Darkling on a silver platter. He was meaner then, more unforgiving. Your years spent with him after that had changed him, made him better in your eyes. You fell for him, hard, even though there was so much death and destruction in his wake. When you love somebody, it’s easy to see past all of the nasty stuff and focus on whatever is left of the good and Aleksander still had an abundance of if.

You could still remember his cold stare as he asked you what the hell you were. After pleading with him that you didn't know and his Heartrenderer confirming it, he whisked you away to the Little Palace where soon enough you had become his equal, if not his superior.

'I actually wanted to ask you something about one of the Grisha in the Palace. I seen her with Alina, red-hair, big blue eyes... she wore a white kefta?' You said as you wlaked down a mirrored hallway in the Royal building.

'Oh, that's Genya Saffin. She works for the King and Queen.' He said with an underlying tone of irritation.

'What does she do? She wears a white kefta so I'm just curious'

'She's a tailor. Member of the Corporalki. She should be wearing red, I know. But trust me the time will come' He ushered us both into a guarded room of glitering gold and pearly white walls. So tacky. I could make out the king slumped in an overdone throne-like chair.

'Moi tsar' you and Aleksander bowed much to your distastes. You hoped nobody had seen the brief look of disgust wash over your face as the Lanstov King rose and gave his advisors a raised eyebrow, signalling to you. A man wearing a navy uniform looked at you like a piece of meat ready to be devoured. I'm gonna throw up.

'Deputy General Y/L/N is it?' He took your hand in his own sweaty one gave it a wet kiss. 'You Grisha are always easy on the eyes aren't you?'

You took a step back and cleared your throat. 'Yes, Moi Tsar, it is an honour to make your acquantance' You tried so hard to keep your fists at your sides.

'And what can you bring to the war table, apart from the newest fashion' He let out an obnoxious laugh and his advisors followed. They all looked smug and spoiled. None of them had any idea what the real world looked like and yet had the audacity to sit this council. I'll show them what it means to be powerful.

Aleksander stepped away to the side and gave you a nod. You slowly unravlled your fist and plunged the room into darkness while simultanseoly blowing a strong wind throughout the space, letting papers fly in all directions and the fire go out. You relit it, and every candle in the room. The man in the navy unifrom got the runt of your powers, as you slowly medled with his heart until he breathed a worried laugh 'Stop it Girl'.

But you didn't stop, you carefully stared at the chair the man sat in and pushed it just enough for him to let out a yell. You accidently let out a chuckle that was meant to be in your head. You felt Aleksander move toward you 'All right, that should be enough' He said visibly amused too. You let it all drop.

'It's Deputy General to you' You looked at his fearful face that tried to cover by fixing his jacket and whiping away invisible dust off of his shoulder.

'I must say I am impressed. With the Sun-Summoner and... you, we will have West Ravka and the surroundings begging for our alliances.' He sat down on his chair once again and pointed to an empty one across from him and to the right of Aleksander, who unbeknownst to you had already seated himself.

'Please, Deputy General, do take a seat, we have business to tend to'

****

A painful 2 hours later you and Aleksander walked out of the Grand Palace. You had a headache and your hands hurt from clentching them so hard.

'I'm assuming you sitting the King's meetings for me is off the table now?' Aleksander mused and all you could do was give him a side-eye.

'I think I want to kill him'

'In due time'

You weren't even surprised. If he didn't do it himself you definitely would have taken one for the team. That man is unbearable; like a child in a grown man's body.

As you wallked into your home, Aleksander gently took hold of your wrist and pulled you in the direction of his quarters.

'Come'

Your head was pounding too much to say no so you obliged. The hallways were bare of people, not a Grisha in sight.

You reached his war room doors and walked in after him. He pulled out a map and laid it down.

'I've sent out a First-Army search for the Stag.'

You paused. The headache suddenly gone. Morozova’s Stag. He had tried once before and failed. The weeks following his failure sent him into a frenzy, he questioned Morazovas journals and almost burned them all, but you had gotten to him last-minute. You never doubted the stag to be real. You just never believed he would use it. He's powerful on his own unless- it's for Alina.

You audibly sighed and leaned your back against the table. Alina.

'Does she want it?'

'Does that matter?'

‘Of course it matters!’ You scorned but he stayed silent.

You turned to look at him and whispered 'What are you planning this time?' He had been dropping hints here and there, but so far there was no plan you knew of. 'I can't help you if I don't know the plan'

'No. You're better of not knowing anything. I can't lose you again' you turned you head and looked at his side profile.

'But you need me. I'm powerful, I can lead an army'

'If anything happens you can take over for me then, Deputy.' He cocked a sad smile and left a lingering kiss on your forhead before he left you standing in the war room alone and confused.

Part 11

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal

#shadow and bone #grisha #imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #alexander #alexander morozova #alina starkov #ben barnes #fanfic #black general #general kirigan x reader #shadow summoner #keftas

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt: Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately. There was something in the atmosphere, almost. It felt… lighter, maybe?

He didn’t like it.

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion. The tendency had saved his life multiple times. Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost. Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with. Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him. Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often. Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha. He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one. Skipped school and everything. The whole high school experience. Ha.

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.

He sighed, heavily. Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding). Stock up on supplies. Get ready to weather a storm. Literal or metaphorical.

But hiding out in the cave was so boring. There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah. Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah. Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts. It was pretty empty around here.

Just like Flynn’s heart.

Ha.

Yeah. That was a good one.

Eh. Life wasn’t so bad. He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time. Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof. Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity. And not having a concussion. Or losing any more teeth.

But, back to his original topic.

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe. Was it directly Flynn’s problem? No. The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.

Flynn recognized that. Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom. But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger. Who knew what could come out of a portal? At least according to the ghosts he talked to. Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.

This was going to suck so much.

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary. Which he had read. Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck. He could take one ghost. Three? Yeah. Not a chance.

Maybe they’d leave? They couldn’t know for sure he was here. With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again. He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either. No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait. They weren’t. Flynn would know. He’d made many unbelievable jokes. They’d never attracted anything but groans.

Ha.

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost. “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.

“We don’t have any choice about her, though. Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out. Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn. Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him. The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago. At least a decade.

But he did scream. Loudly. Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all. He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages. “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.” He examined his fingernails. “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate. Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.” He eyed the eyeballs.

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork. “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn. He adjusted his grip on his staff. “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face. “No. Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby. Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork. He raised an eyebrow. “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip. Hard. Okay. He wasn’t dreaming. And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway? Flynn was nothing. He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands. “Then let us away to the castle.”

Well. That was certainly a castle. Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house. Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.

Or even hole, when compared to all this. Dear god, this place was fancy.

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin. You are not underdressed.

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings. “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost. “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one. I will collect you for dinner in three hours. Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.

… There would be curtains, right? This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.

He opened the door.

Lots of curtains. Lovely.

No, really. It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains. He might be crying.

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft. He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy. Filthy. Covered in years’ worth of grime. He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath. He was craving a human-safe bath. With clean water and soap.

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Unrestrained luxury.

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter. The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.

There was a sink.

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water. Because he made it so, so dirty. He sank into the water, up to his chin.

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause. Because it was always a lost cause. Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available. He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one. Were there ghost dentists? There had to be ghost dentists. They had a lot of teeth. A lot of teeth. Sharp, scary, teeth.

Ugh. His baby cousin was a ghost. He’d probably have teeth like a shark. When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all. Because. Baby. Little, tiny, baby.

Who Flynn barely knew.

Why did he even want Flynn? Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?

Ghosts were weird. Anything could be possible.

He flopped face-first onto the bed. His bed? His temporary and maybe permanent bed. If he was allowed to stay here.

Oh, gosh. Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals. Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.

(Dad? Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed. But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now. He was living in the scariest place out of the world.

Ha.

Yeah.

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe. Oh, boy. Many clothes. He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store. Incredible.

They were so fancy, too. He didn’t know how to choose.

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed. Some of them looked cool. And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet. Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear. Wow. It had been a while.

Okay. The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice. Like, no nap nice.

He wanted to take a nap.

But no nap was occurring.

The bed was too soft. Ugh. This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.

He groaned. He hadn’t thought that was real. He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama. Or something.

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.

Maybe he could sleep here.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover. What cover? Oh. Bed. That was the bed. He was in the room. In the castle. The ghost king’s castle.

His baby cousin’s castle.

He was going to cry. This was so weird.

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand. Which. Might not have been the best of ideas. But, hey, he was dressed now.

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle. Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there. One of his eyebrows went up. “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down. Orange and green went fine together. What was he talking about?

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.

“Come, now. Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back. At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.

He decided not to do that. Running away wasn’t his style.

(Who was he kidding? That was definitely his style. He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing. Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled. “Only the future.” He swung the large, gilded door open.

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates. There were a small group of children beyond it. One of them waved at him. Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #flynn walker #clockwork

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jj-babebank · 3 years

Text

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 4

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 4 -

“What do you mean close down the camp and call the police?” said Pricilla, almost sounding shocked, “And risk getting closed for business? Are you crazy?”

“Don’t you find it even slightly suspicious that in the same night the bonfire area gets trashed twice, a dead animal gets found in a counselor’s bag and a counselor goes missing?” said Caroline, obviously unnerved.

Pricilla, however, seemed more unnerved by the group’s presence.

“Listen, kid,” she said, “That Hague girl was no good anyway, always prancing around like she owned the place,”

“You got that right,” muttered Sarah.

“She probably snuck out to meet her boyfriend and saw a rat on the way and that’s why she screamed,” Pricilla shrugged.

“Then what about her still missing?” Caroline questioned.

“Boyfriend probably took her home.” Pricilla said nonchalantly.

“Then what about the bonfire area and the message?” Caroline asked again.

“Boyfriend was probably a tool and thought it’d be funny to pull a stunt on all of us,” the old lady mumbled, “How am I supposed to know? You ask way too many questions too, kid, you sure you’re not Maybank in a wig?”

JJ snorted at the comment while Caroline simply shook her head, “We’re supposed to be expecting children tomorrow, doesn’t any of this sound even a little sketchy to you?”

“Yes, we are,” Pricilla nodded, pulling a cigarette and lighter out of her padded bra and lighting it directly inside the Wildcat Lodge, “And none of you kids will be getting in the way of that.”

“But the bonfire area is totally ruined,” John B joined in on the conversation.

“Well then I’d be heading off to bed if I were you,” Pricilla simply said, taking a long drag of her cigarette, “Wouldn’t want to wake up not in time to sort it out again tomorrow, would you?”

The four teens sighed and left the Wildcat Lodge. Somehow they had been the last group to return to the main area and all of their other fellow counselors had given up on looking for Madison a while ago, all believing the story of how she bailed on camp with her boyfriend.

“Somehow I’m not buying any of this,” said Caroline when they reached the girls’ cabin.

“As much as I’m going to enjoy not having Hague around, I’m gonna have to agree with Carrie on this one,” Sarah said.

JJ and John B agreed too, “None of this makes sense. How is nobody phased by Madison just disappearing?” JJ said.

“It’s because it’s Madison,” muttered Sarah, “she’s a witch,”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “It’s because Pricilla’s too afraid of going out of business and she’s willing to sell and believe any story just so she can keep this place running,”

John B nodded, “Yeah, if anyone’s a witch around here, it’s her,”

“As much as I used to love this place as a kid, ever since Pricilla’s daughter bailed on her she’s become totally bananas and she’s let this place slip majorly,” said JJ.

Everyone agreed once again.

“However, I don’t believe that Madison’s imaginary psycho boyfriend did all of this, regardless how much Pricilla tries to sell that to us,” JJ continued, “And with kids coming in tomorrow and the rest of us still basically being kids ourselves, this could be dangerous, and I say if nobody else wants to take this seriously, we take it in our own hands. Who’s with me?” JJ said, placing his hand in the middle of the circle they had subconsciously formed, expecting the others’ hands to land on it.

Caroline nearly tripped on her still drunken feet after hearing JJ speak so bravely. Her hand immediately shot into the circle and on top of his, almost on command, and if she wasn’t still under the influence of the quarter bottle of whiskey she had downed not too long ago, she’d have been extremely embarrassed at how fast she agreed with the boy. He looked down at their hands then up at her and winked. If she was questioning whether she was still crushing on JJ earlier, now she was sure.

John B’s hand was the one that followed almost equally as fast. Whatever JJ did – so did John B and vice versa, it was a little unspoken rule they’d set back in the day when they were still kids. The only person who still seemed adamant was Sarah, who stood there, arms crossed against her chest, an annoyed frown littering her forehead.

“What?” she snapped when they all turned to look at her, “You want me to take care of a bunch of kids with John B and look for my arch nemesis? Y’all must be tripping.”

“Come on, Sarah, it’s not about Madison,” pleaded Caroline, “Imagine if it were to happen to you, wouldn’t you want someone to come looking for you?”

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek, processing what Caroline was saying to her. She finally rolled her eyes and gave in, slapping her hand on top of the others’, “Ugh, fine, I’ll be part of whatever this is.”

“Yes!” said JJ excitedly, “This means that we can now be sort of like the Scooby gang.”

“I call dibs on Scooby!” said John B, making everyone snort at his comment, “What?” he said defensively, “There wouldn’t be a Scooby gang without a Scooby,”

Caroline shook her head, still smirking at the odd pair of boys her and Sarah had somehow had the chance to be paired up with, “Well the Scooby and the Scooby gang wouldn’t be able to do anything without at least trying to get some rest, so I suggest we head to bed. I doubt that whoever did this will try doing something again tonight. Besides, you heard Pricilla, we’ve gotta set the bonfire area early tomorrow, again.”

Sarah groaned loudly, “Ugh, don’t remind me, let’s go,” she said, stomping up to the door of their cabin and entering the triangular wooden building.

John B also turned to walk towards the boys’ cabin, leaving JJ and Caroline behind.

“So uh,” JJ said, smiling at the girl, “Thanks for agreeing to this, C,”

“Of course,” Caroline said, again too quickly for her liking, “It would suck if something bad did happen to Madison and no one did anything about it,”

“Nah, I was talking about you being partners with me,” JJ said, “Madison might’ve actually ditched for all we know,”

Caroline’s cheeks were on fire again and she was hoping that the yellow lights guiding the pathways towards all the camp’s buildings weren’t allowing JJ to see that.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” JJ said when Caroline took too long to say anything.

She quickly nodded, “Yeah, I’m looking forward,”

“Yeah, me too,” JJ winked at her and walked away towards his cabin, her entering hers with literal hearts in her eyes.

Missing or not, Madison’s disappearance and the rollercoaster that was their first day had somehow ensured that this summer was in fact going to be one to look forward to.

~~~~~~~

A/N: This was a short chapter and I wanted to get it out of the way because it was also the last chapter before the camp actually begins hehe

Let me know what you think so far, I'm updating this daily so that I can get to the substance of the story and set up its universe and characters x

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l

Part 5 here

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09kags · 4 years

Photo

Happy Haikyuu Day!

Sorry for the bad quality first off T^T I keep having to resize these so that they’re smaller for Tumblr and it ruins the quality. But more importantly, happy Haikyuu day! (at least it is Japan already!) This edit embodies some of my favorite moments within the series and below, I’ve written some of the thoughts that went into this piece/my feelings on these moments! Manga spoilers ahead (I'm pretty sure I’ve kept them to a minimum but just to be sure, please proceed with caution!), and I hope you enjoy this edit! (Overlays: accio-glow, aulia-chan on dA; PSDs: hurtears, hallyumi, yangyanggg on dA) 1. “Today might finally be the day we get the chance to let our talents bloom… it could be tomorrow. Or maybe next year. Or maybe it’ll finally come when we’re 30. I’m not sure if physique has anything to do with it but I do know for sure that if you don’t believe that day will come, it never will.” This quote is a testament to Oikawa’s growth and is a symbolic representation of Oikawa freeing himself from the shackles of “geniuses” and “prodigies.” So what if your opponent is a genius? So what if they possess more innate talent? As his mentor and inspiration Jose Blanco states, “Are you saying you know what the limits of your abilities are already? Even though you aren’t yet finished growing physically or mentally? Even though you haven’t mastered all the skills you can master? If you’re going to complain that someone with more talent than you will always be better than you… no matter how hard you work, how many tricks you learn and how many great teammates you have… do that only after you’ve given everything the very best effort you have.” There will always be someone better in the world. But to claim that you cannot hope to compare to the likes of them is to resign yourself to a predetermined defeat as well as dismiss both your own efforts and theirs. There’s no guarantee when your efforts will pay off. As Oikawa declares, it may be today, tomorrow, or even when we’re 30. But if you don’t believe in yourself first, if you don’t believe that you will bloom in your own time, “that day will never come.” The flower in the background is the iris. It is known to represent trust, faith, and hope amongst many other ideals. I chose this particular flower because of the manga cap used in this panel. I cannot emphasize how much I love the bond between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, especially this particular moment when Oikawa points at Iwaizumi with such authority and determination as if saying, “This ball, this moment, is meant for you.” Not to mention the pairing with the iconic “Talent is something you make bloom, instinct is something you hone” quote. An absolutely masterful sequence of scenes that always gets my blood rushing.

2. “Don’t look down! Volleyball is a sport where you’re always looking up!” This moment gives me chills every time. It’s something so fundamental and simple and yet, when Ukai yells this, it instills that feeling of “You can do it.” It makes my heart flutter and I feel so excited because it’s such a beautiful way of saying “Don’t give up, it’s not over yet.” And even if the ball has dropped for the last time or you have lost this match, there’s always tomorrow. There’s always the next match where you’ll have to look up. This quote gives me the same feeling as when Takeda-sensei says, “For the rest of your lives, you can do anything you set your mind to!” You only truly lose when you stop trying or you give up. 3. “It hurts. I’m tired. This is painful. I don’t want this to ever end.” / “The ball hasn’t dropped yet!” Whenever Haikyuu characters say “Just one more!” or “The ball hasn’t dropped yet!”, the tension and desperation is almost palpable. It’s so incredibly moving to see them strive to save that ball just one more time, to focus purely on what is in front of them. Even if they don’t all pursue volleyball as a professional career, the passion they all have for the sport is real. That sort of passion is beautiful to watch and admire, and I wish I could have that kind of passion for something in my life. 4. “The underhand only uses two hands. The overhand uses 10 fingers. That’s all the more to support your spikers with, which is what it means to be a setter.” / “To cut through the wall that looms before your spikers, that is the purpose of a setter.” This particular panel depicts the two ideologies of Atsumu and Kageyama respectively, two of my favorite setters and characters in general. Atsumu “may be pretty cocky at times, and overwhelm his teammates with his thirst for victory, but he treats his spikers with more sincerity and selflessness than anyone else.” He may be overbearing and an asshole at times, but his love for the sport and the art of being a setter is second to none. On the other hand, there’s Kageyama who’s so damn cool with his one-liners. Kageyama’s passion and drive to win may blind him to his surroundings and teammates but he truly believes that the setter is the one who clears the path for their spikers. When their spikers feel cornered and the walls are closing in, it is the setter who “cuts through the wall that looms” ahead. The old Kageyama who was a prisoner to speed is no longer, and his growth as a player brings me to tears every time. 5. “Someone once asked me, ‘Do you ever feel bitter over the fact that you’re not a regular on the team, and amongst your juniors there’s a genius to boot?’ I never understood the exact definition of what it was to be a genius to begin with, but upon hearing the question, I understood the general gist of what they were getting at. Every so often there will be someone who thinks that ‘people like Atsumu’ were ‘good’ from the get-go. But the thing is, if I practiced something from 1-10 every day, then people like Atsumu would have done it from 1-20. Or, they would have done the same 10 but in a more efficient or concentrated manner. They might also ask ‘Instead of doing it 1-10, how about I tried it from A-Z, what would happen then? Now doesn’t that sound interesting?’ They’re the kind of people who think about stuff like that. Even if they fail, even if they are hated and get ostracised by others, no matter whether they’re right or they’re wrong, even if they subvert something the rest of us hold in high regard, they’re the kind of people who can’t sit still without giving it a go. Even if they start coughing up blood from their lungs, they’re the kind of people who want to keep on running, no matter what. There’s going to be a lot of people in this world who make you go ‘Wow, I’ll never be able to defeat them,’ and it’s only natural that you think they’re amazing people. I think that to be able to keep charging ahead is a talent in and of itself. You can call people like them whatever you like, the term ‘genius’ isn’t exactly an insult. That said, to think they were ‘good from the get go’ is to condemn yourself to a predetermined defeat without even playing a match against them, and I also think it’s very rude.” This quote, hands down, is one of my favorite quotes of all time. It is not genius or natural talent that makes individuals truly great, but it is grit. Without a doubt, people are not born equal. There will always be someone with more innate talent or latent capabilities. We all begin at different starting lines. But those who truly stand out are those who go the extra mile, like those dubbed to be the Monster Generation (Kageyama, Atsumu, Hinata, Bokuto, Ushijima, Oikawa, etc.). To others they may seem like natural prodigies but behind their flawless technique and precise ball control lies countless hours of training. They trained harder than anyone else, sacrificed in order to hone their abilities, and ran farther than the rest of the pack. They’re the type to fixate on what lies before them without much regard to anything else.They eat, sleep, breathe, and live volleyball with every waking second. They’re always trying new things (Atsumu pulling off the freak duo quick in the middle of the Inarizaki match) and continually looking for ways to improve (“But the thing is, if I practiced something from 1-10 every day, then people like Atsumu would have done it from 1-20. Or, they would have done the same 10 but in a more efficient or concentrated manner. They might also ask ‘Instead of doing it 1-10, how about I tried it from A-Z, what would happen then? Now doesn’t that sound interesting?’ They’re the kind of people who think about stuff like that”; Kageyama keeping a volleyball journal). It is not what they were born with that makes them great; it is their overwhelming desire to win. 6. “‘Yesterday’ has already disappeared behind us. Many, many yesterdays have become a part of our muscles. What shall we do, today?” This quote, chills. There’s no point ruminating about the past or what has already passed; you can’t change it. (In retrospect, I wish I included another quote from Inarizaki in this panel: “One time is enough. We rise to the challenges of today.”) You learn from the mistakes of yesterday and use them as stepping stones for tomorrow. I wish I could eloquently phrase how much I love this quote or my interpretation of it but alas, my writing is fancy Garbage. 7. “But if… just if… that moment comes for you, that will be the moment you really get hooked on volleyball.” If you didn’t get chills when Tsukishima blocks Ushijima, I have no words for you. Tsukishima-it’s-just-a-club Kei, Tsukishima-I’m-the-normal-guy Kei — Tsukishima Kei, who always underestimates his own capabilities and relies on what he can see in front of him, blocking the Ushijima Wakatoshi, one of the top three high school aces nationally. The character development from someone who did the bare minimum (as noted by other players/coaches at one of the training camps) to someone who finally had their moment to get hooked on volleyball is one of my favorite progressions of all time. Seeing him fall in love with volleyball gradually and then all at once is truly heartwarming and beautiful to witness. 8. “No matter what other people may say, we are the protagonists of the world.” This quote is incredibly empowering to me. Even if your days consist of mundane activities, you are the protagonist of your own story every day. You may not be the main character in a shounen manga or an adolescent seeking to usurp the government in a dystopian novel, but this is your story. No one can tell it like you do and no one can replicate your story. It is yours and yours only. And that concludes my Haikyuu word vomit! I really do wish I could have properly conveyed my pure adoration and love for this series better. I truly do love Haikyuu so very, very much. It will always have a special place in my heart and I will never forget the memories and lessons it has taught me! Thank you, Furudate-sensei, for such a beautiful story. And thank you Haikyuu, for everything. For all the losses and victories we shared. For all the smiles and laughter, and for all the tears we shed. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

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erensproudsimp · 3 years

Text

Rivalry

Jean kirstein x Eren Jeager x reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary: Threesome with Eren and Jean in the middle of a party? Hell yeah.

Word count: 2.4k

"So, how do I look?" coming from the bathroom you asked your roommate about your outfit.

"YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING Y/N!This little black dress really brings out your curves, " Hitch squealed.

"Aww Thank you bestie! When are you getting dressed?" you questioned looking for your black heels.

"I was just about to, I bet this party is going to be the best ever organized this year," Hitch excitedly said.

"Right? Heard that almost all students are going, I feel like it's going to be crazy and moreover it's organized by Jean,"you added while wearing your jewelries.

Hitch came out in a sexy red sleeveless dress which suited her perfectly.

" Oh. my. god. Marry me right now, what did I do to deserve such a pretty best friend, "you flattered her wiping fake tears from your eye.

" Says the girl who's going to take all the boys' breaths and by boys I specifically mean Eren and Jean, "she replied eyeing you from head to toe.

"Sheesh Hitch, you know that I'm not interested in them right?" you said arms crossed.

"I don't know y/n, that little blush is saying something else. So who are you going to choose among them?" Hitch teased.

"I'm pretty both of them asked me out due to their rivalry with each other but I have no interest in helping either win," you said with a sigh.

"I mean you may never know that they actually do have feelings for you, I remember seeing Jean stare at you during class," she explained wearing her makeup. Smacking her lips to spread the lipstick, she turned to look at you, "At least give one of them a chance? Like two of the hottest guys on the campus asked you out, think about it y/n," she suggested.

"They were already my best friends but maybe until tonight I'll try to make a decision but for now let's go enjoy okay?" you beamed.

"Let's go impress some bitches, have some liquor, spit on our haters and have the best night of our life," flicking your hair back you left the dorm with Hitch agreeing with you.

Parking your car, you got out to admire the grandiose building belonging to Jean in sight. Muffled music could be heard through the walls.

"Maybe I should give Jean the chance," you said.

"Haha yes girl get that bag," Hitch giggled dragging you inside.

Laughter, people making out on the dancefloor, a background scent of sweat mixed with booze, you finally saw your friends near the bar counter. Conversations stopped the second everyone noticed me and Hitch's entry.

" All eyes on me in the centre of the ring just like a circus," you sang in her ear as she smirked.

Walking proudly to radiate your confidence, both of you went to the bar, the crowd going back to their initial interaction.

"Hey guys!" you shouted throwing yourself on Sasha.

"Welo," Connie replied with a drink in his hand.

"Where are the others?" Hitch asked them.

"Mikasa, Armin and Eren haven't arrived yet and Jean is ensuring everything is in control," Ymir answered hugging Historia close to her.

Ordering a glass of wine from the bartender, you sipped said drink while chatting with your friends. Right at that moment the trio entered through the door.

" Look they came,"Historia pointed at them.

" Hello everyone, where's Jean? "Armin asked.

You looked at Eren taking in how he was looking so attractive in an all black outfit. However, he did not once glance in your direction making you assume it was because you haven't yet given him an answer.

" There he is,"Mikasa said as the man in question neared the group.

" Is everyone having fun? "Jean enquired leaning on the counter.

His stance screamed dominance but in such a subtle way it was sensual. You tried to meet his eye but he didn't acknowledge your presence too. Well, it was what you were supposing to be as in in contrary both of them were enraptured with your appearance they couldn't bring themselves to look at you.

"I'm going to the dancefloor," you announced frustrated by the lack of attention you got from the two men after finishing your third drink.

Pushing your way in, moving to the music you tried to take off your mind off having to choose someone between them. A stranger came up to you to ask if they could dance with you. With no hesitation noticing how handsome he was, you let him hold you in his arms as a distraction.

"Not gonna lie, I'm gonna be shocked if she doesn't hook up with someone tonight, like look at her man," Hitch commented hoping to push either Eren or Jean to approach you.

"Right? She honestly looks so hot," Sasha added understanding what she was trying to do.

Like they hoped, the tactic worked as both men stood up together. They looked in each other's eye as though communicating telepathically passing one message and it was to not let anyone come near to you.

Heading into the crowd to find you, Hitch and Sasha high fived leaving everyone else in the unknown.

Searching all round, they at last found you dancing with a random guy, your body all over him. There was a cold fury in their eyes and Eren pursued his lips in anger. He went up to the guy and gave him a death stare. The stranger felt his blood drain from his face into his gut as he abruptly left you.

At first you were puzzled at why the guy just disappeared until you saw Jean and Eren and understood the situation.

"Mind if I dance with you?" Eren asked holding his hand out.

"May I too?" Jean rushed in not to let Eren take the sole lead.

Taking both hands smilingly you replied, "Yes, you both may."

Jean twisted you in his arms pressing your ass against his hips as Eren held your waist in his hands your chest against his, both guys grinding on you.

Eren leaned in and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access to the area as he licked his tongue over your so sensitive skin.

Jean feeling a bit left out took a glass of wine from a passing waiter grabbed your soft flocks in his hand and pulled it slowly to not hurt you. Your head was placed on his shoulder as Eren continued to nibble on your neck.

"Open your mouth," Jean ordered you his lips brushing your ear and you obeyed without arguing.

He then poured the wine from the glass into your mouth. Moaning through the process, the liquid coursed from your throat into your stomach spreading its warmth all over. Jean still grinding on you pushed his hips forward for you to feel his growing bulge.

Rhythmically swaying your body to the beats of the music playing, you brushed your ass to Jean's bulge and hips against Eren's. Being sandwiched between them was like a dream come true.

Eren's hands slid up and down your arms, head intact on your neck. Jean was not doing any lesser either as he bent over to reach the other side of your neck, his hot breath ruffling and began showering it with kisses.

Grabbing your chin to lift it up, Eren pressed his soft lips on yours tasting the alcohol from your mouth.

"Hey- that's not fair," Jean snatched you from Eren, threw your body on his shoulder and slapped your ass to carry you away. Shortly Eren followed, "Give her back to me!"

Jean made you sit on a bed gently, kissed you lightly on your cheek then went to close the door of the room but Eren busted in right before he could.

"Oh you're not having her all to you, not until I'm still alive," Eren stated.

"Fuck you Eren, I'm not going to let you have her either you know," Jean cursed him.

At this point you didn't know what to say as anticipation filled your being so you just allowed everything happen by itself.

Before Jean could do anything, Eren rushed to you, pulled you in his arms made out with you in front of him to make him jealous which of course worked.

" Jeager!" Jean shouted approaching you both.

Eren's tongue was roaming in all corners of your mouth to explore them, a small moan leaving your throat.

Both guys froze hearing that.

"Eren, move I want to be the one to make her create those cute sounds," Jean pushed Eren to replace his mouth on you.

Jean was more passionate than Eren, probably because of the jealousy he was feeling.

"How about we hear what y/n has to say?" Eren suggested.

"Yeah y/n, make a decision, it's either Eren or me," Jean continued.

"I-, guys trust me I've been thinking about this and honestly speaking, for me it's either both of you or no one. Don't get me wrong you're both equally amazing and handsome so choosing one is just unfair. I love you both but I'm not going to choose one I'm sorry. Moreover, I don't want to fuel the rivalry between you two," looking at the floor you replied. You thought that this would make them feel disappointed but in reality it was the contrary

" Y/n..,"Jean hugged you so did Eren from the back.

" I'm glad you didn't choose to reject one of us, "Eren whispered in your ear.

" Yeah I'm so pleased too, "Jean agreed lifting your chin to kiss the bottom of your neck.

" And don't appogise y/n, you're not at fault here, we are for asking you out because of our competition so let us make up for it, "Eren's voice holding the promise of sex.

His hands unzipped your dress pealing it off you to leave you in your black lace underwear. Both Jean and Eren's face went scarlet red on seeing you in this state.

From the back Eren's big, warm hands reached out to cup your boobs while nibbling on your shoulder. In front Jean knelt down on you to kiss you on your stomach as his hands were caressing your curves.

Taking Eren's face in one hand, you stroked his face with your thumb, the other hand in Jean's hair playing with it.

"Can I?" Jean asked indicating to the removal of your undergarment.

"By all means, do whatever you wish," you gave both consent.

Seizing this opportunity Eren unhooked your bra and let it fall to the ground.

"You're so beautiful y/n," Jean gasped.

Your body chose that moment to shiver.

Not being able to control it anymore Eren lifted you in bridal style dropping you lightly on the bed. Ripping his shirt of his toned body, your eyes were locked on his abbs. Jean lost no time in taking his off too.

You were mesmerised. Those men were built like fantasies, their chest sculptured with the honed muscles of a god.

"Come here."

To your astonishment they obeyed sitting on each of your sides.

"What do you want us to do angel?" Jean asked with such adoration in his eyes.

"Tell us your deepest desires, we will make it a reality," placing his hand over your thighs Eren encouraged you.

"Use me as your plaything."

This one simple request was enough to send them off the edge.

"As you wish m'lady," Jean replied before kneeling in front of you.

More kisses along your neck by Eren while Jean split your legs to bury his face in between. You sucked in a deep breath.

Trailing his tongue on your inner thighs up to your soaked folds, Jean teased you.

Taking your mouth into a fiery kiss, sucking on your lower lip, Eren fondled your boobs. Sticking your tongue out to ask for permission he took it in without a second thought.

"Hmmm ah-," you panted on his mouth as Jean kissed your core, giving it a tender lick. Grabbing your hips to forbid you to move, he inserted his tongue in and out of you while rubbing your clit with his fingers. Pure heaven.

"You like that huh?"

You threw your head back at his words humming a yes, Eren proceeding to move from your neck to your collarbones to mark himself on your skin. A slight pain overcoming with pleasure sent chills down your spine.

"Jeaaann- ah- Ereenn," you screamed their names turning them on more.

Shortly after your stomach clenched as you came on Jean's face.

"You taste so good y/n," he said licking his lips.

"Now's my turn," Eren declared unbuckling his pants topping you.

"You okay with this right?" he asked concernedly caressing your cheek. You nodded and looked over to Jean signaling him to come over your head.

Slowly penetrating his dick into your cunt, you stifled a moan as you were helping Jean take off his trousers, his hardened member sprung free from its trap.

As Eren was thrusting his hips in you moaning your name, you were jerking Jean off with your hand, him panting loudly.

"Y/n go faster please," Jean whined.

Spreading his precum oozing from the tip, your fingers stroked it down the shaft.

"Forgive me for what im about to do y/n," the unbearable thirst pushed Jean to shove his swollen dick into your mouth. You muffled a moan at his action willingly taking it. Moving your wet muscle inside your mouth, you sucked him.

"Fuck y/n you feel so good tightly wrapped around me," Eren breathed picking up speed. Your breath stuck in your lungs, your eyes rolled back.

Two handsome men fucking you senselessly, you couldn't be in any more bliss.

"Good girl," Jean petted your hair as you swallowed every drop of him. Collapsing next to you, he was gradually grasping his breath.

On the other hand, Eren was still going pushing and pulling into you and from you.

"Go ahead, cum for me y/n."

Your legs were practically shaking as you came a second time over him. Realising he was reaching his limit, he pulled out and released his hot fluid on your belly.

Out of breath, he fell onto you as you hugged him. Ruffling Jean's hair you tried to wake him up.

"Jean we have a party remember? now wake up, you don't want people thrashing your house. You too Eren, Mikasa must be worried sick by now with your absence," you advised both only for your words to fall on deaf ears.

Sighing you stayed still to enjoy their warmth a little more.

Just a little more.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

133 notes · View notes

aquilamage · 3 years

Text

Day 5 - memory/future of prosecutor week aka one of my big ones! considering that it’s in the 7 year gap, it technically counts for both prompts since it’s post-game sebastian and (mostly) pre-game klavier.

Anyway, I’ve been sitting on this for a while sort of almost-finished, but this week made me decide to actually put out the first chapter of this fic wherein I explore an idea of mine for how Sebastian comes to be a member of the gavinners. Extra big shoutout to @unnecessarygayfeelings for helping inspire a lot of this. The gavinners ocs boys in this really feel like our characters

ao3 and ff.n links, as usual ^^

Stepping past the security post, Sebastian turned his ID badge over in his hand as he frantically looked for a place out of the crowds of people. Finally, he ducked into a corner. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he typed a quick message – I’m here – before shoving it and his badge back in his pockets. He took a few deep breaths. Then, he set off.

The backstage was, as said before, quite crowded – and busy too. People moving here and there in every direction down the halls in a crushing flow, the atmosphere thick with harried tension and the noise of everyone seemingly talking at once. Even with directions, Sebastian found himself turned around a few times until he got to the right door.

He let out a sigh of relief as it shut behind him. Some of the ambient sound leaked through, but so much more manageable. That was much better. Then, he looked around.

There were three people in the dressing room, all guys, seeming about his age or a little older. None of them were Klavier, but on his entrance, they all turned to stare at him.

“Uh...hi!”

The guy closest to him, who had curly dark brown hair that went down past the collar of his leather jacket, and big thick boots, shifted in his chair (which he had been sitting backwards in). “Hey. Do you, uh, need help with anything?”

His gut twisted around. Fighting the urge to run, he attempted to put the energy into his words instead. “I’m here for the performance?”

“Well, yeah.” A low laugh accompanied the words. The one who’d spoken ran his hand through his black pompadour, the other stuck in the pocket of his equally dark jeans. “But, uh,” he looked Sebastian up and down, head moving along with his gaze in a way that had to be so that what he was doing was unmissable. “I think you have the wrong room.”

Sebastian looked down at himself. What...did that have to do with anything, other than the fact that he wasn’t someone they knew? Did he forget something Klavier had told him? He swung his hands at his side, lightly. “No, I demons- definitely...” Tension built behind his eyes. This was the spot he’d been told (and he checked the sign – twice), “I’m helping with the Gavinners performance.”

They all exchanged a look. (Sebastian really wished he had thought to ask Klavier or at least look up the rest of the band. He’d been so busy with the music over the past couple days, but having taken a minute out of that would have really helped him now. Or at least given him a chance at recognizing anyone else.) The same guy from before stepped forward. “Look, kid, you had your fun. We’re not going to call security on you as long as you go before this turns to trouble.”

At the other’s movement, he stumbled back without even thinking. Oh, he was not going to start crying, please, not now. “I-”

“Dude, chill out.” The third guy, who was sitting on the makeup counter, crossed his arms.

“I’m just saying-”

“We know, but,” the first one stood up fully from his chair, “let me handle this, okay?” He was even taller than Sebastian, but understated in it. Looking at Sebastian, he smiled warmly, continuing to talk in his even, calm voice, as if they were friends. “I’ll walk you back to where you need to be. Alright?”

If he had actually been lost, or whatever, he would have appreciated it, and been comfortable going. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t know how else to explain that, especially with pompadour guy still staring him down, and...

The door swung open behind him. “Ach, there’s been an issue with one of the other groups, so everything’s been rearr- There you are!” Klavier lifted his sunglasses to on top of his head, positively beaming as he caught sight of Sebastian.

“What is this, Gavin?”

But the sharp remark seemed to slide off of him completely. “Daryan, remember when I told you that I found a substitute keyboardist? This is Sebastian.”

Klavier’s mood was infectious, or at least the relief seeping through him was. “Hey.” He waved shyly at the rest of the band.

“Mein Freund, this is Daryan,” he indicated the guy he’d been talking to, “Todd,” the nice one, who gave a little salute, “and Evri,” who nodded, his bright blue hair (shaved down on one side, the rest flipped over to the other and disappearing behind his back) swaying in front of his face. Once Klavier had finished, his expression grew more serious. “Alright, it’s time to go. Sound check in five.”

Outside it was just as crowded, but much easier to move through now that he was part of a group. Especially since the others were much more decisive with their motions, presumably knowing where they were going.

And then they were on stage. Basically all of Sebastian’s free time in the last week had been dedicated to learning the handful of Gavinners songs they would be performing, with the help of recordings, the sheet music, and some notes (Klavier had sent him many, many notes about each of the songs). Sebastian was pretty confident in his ability to play, but this was different. Practicing had been in his living room; the most intimidating thing there had been when Kay had startled him out of his concentration to ask what he wanted for dinner. This was unfamiliar equipment, on stage, even if the only ‘audience’ at the moment was the crew.

He sat down at his bench, legs trembling. The next time he would be here, all of those seats out there would be filled. He’d just started prosecuting, so that counted for something. But performing? Sebastian had done that exactly once before – and this was a lot bigger than Themis’s stage.

Plus, he thought as he watched the others get situated, he’d never played with anyone before, much less this group. The Gavinners had just come off a tour, so hadn’t seen a reason to schedule rehearsal for this. By the time whatever had happened with their old keyboardist to necessitate Klavier calling him Monday night in a mild panic, everyone’s schedules had been too booked to coordinate a meetup. This was the closest he would get to a practice run, and since that wasn’t what sound checks were for, he would just have to not mess up. He couldn’t let Klavier down.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he flapped his hands. As Klavier started to talk, he tried to focus on just that, and on breathing regularly.

“Ready?” When sound gave him the ok, Klavier glanced over his shoulder to check on everyone, and as his eyes met Sebastian’s, he smiled.

---

Okay, so, technically speaking, Sebastian had practiced with someone. Two days after the initial call, Klavier had called him again because he’d had a change in his schedule and if they could maybe go over things? So a few hours after that, Sebastian had showed up on Klavier’s doorstep with his notes and a nervous smile.

“I appreciate you helping on such a short notice,” he said as her led him inside.

He shrugged, repeating a phrase Kay used whenever he thanked her for something she thought he didn’t need to. “Of course.”

Klavier looked at him for a moment, then pushed his hair back (seemed like he’d been growing it out – it went almost to his shoulders now). “Ja, besides,” he smirked, “now you have to listen to my music. Have I changed your mind yet?”

“It’s good,” and he meant that; going through the sheet music and picking the sound apart by ear he’d noticed how well-written they were, technically speaking. And you didn’t need a trained ear to hear how much care and emotion Klavier put into them. “but I still don’t like it.”

“Ach, you wound me.” He grabbed his chest, leaning dramatically in the stairwell. (They’d had some version of this conversation many times before, so Sebastian knew he was joking). “Well, I still have more time to convince you.”

Since he’d still been in the late stages of figuring out and getting used to the music, the session ended up being mostly him playing while Klavier listened and then talked over the music with him, although by the end he’d pulled out his guitar to play along. “You’re quite good at this, you know.”

Sebastian just shrugged.

“I’m serious; it still needs a bit of work, but” he leaned in, smiling warmly. “Keep it up, and I have no doubts about how amazing you’ll do at the concert.”

---

With that memory, Sebastian was able to keep himself together and play. And it didn’t sound bad all together, from what he could hear. It was actually pretty cool.

If it wasn’t for how loud everything was. He kept playing through it, but he could feel the sound with his whole body and it hurt. The quiet that happened when they finally finished was a relief.

Evri leaned over his drum kit. “Hey, nice playing.”

“Yeah!” Todd said.

Even Daryan was nodding appreciatively. “He’s not bad at all. Especially for-” He trailed off, muttering something that seconds later had Klavier whipping his head toward him and shouting “Daryan!”

Sebastian did his best to smile. Not that he didn’t appreciate it, but all he wanted to do right now was crawl into a dark hole and stay there.

Backstage was quieter than before, but not empty. Every sound felt amplified, grating, and everyone was too close too loud too much too much too much. By the time they closed the door on their dressing room, he was barely able to register the others’ conversation with everything in his head.

“...Sebastian?

He opened his eyes to see Klavier standing in front of him, a look of deep concern on his face. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them.

“Sebastian, what’s wrong?” His voice was soft, but still a little too much.

His body wasn’t letting him talk, so he put his hands over his ears. At this point, tears were falling freely down his face.

“Oh.” Klavier put a hand over his mouth. In a whisper, he continued, “the noise? I’m sorry, I should have- Come here?” He led Sebastian to the far side of the room, where a pile of boxes partially obscured a bend in the room that created its own little area. “We have a while until the actual performance. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

He shook his head. If he tried to think – but there was too much going on in his head, too much screaming for things to stop – he would be pretty sure there was something, but he didn’t remember, didn’t have the energy.

“Alright. Would you like me to stay with you?”

It had been something he’d done for Sebastian a few times at school. But he shook his head again. Right now, it would just make him feel worse.

Klavier nodded, and left him alone.

Pulling his t-shirt up to cover his head, Sebastian sat down in the corner. He could hear voices from the other side of the room, but faintly. And it was dark, so it was the best he was going to get right now. He curled up and tried to shut everything off.

---

Sebastian didn’t quite fall asleep, but he still found himself rousing some...indeterminate amount of time later. His head felt a little fuzzy, but he didn’t want to put his hands over his ears and scream at every little sensation, so that was a massive improvement. Taking a moment to stretch and get his bearings, he then made his way back into the main area.

“...been over this. The tempo is fine, Gavin.”

Klavier frowned, hands on his hips. “That’s not the point! You can’t change things on a whim or it’s all going to fall apart!”

Rolling his eyes, Daryan leaned back against the door. “Yeah, sure, Mx. ‘changes the bridge literally as we’re going onstage’.”

Sebastian found himself backing up slowly. He felt like he should say something, but he didn’t know what, and that only made him feel worse. Maybe they hadn’t noticed him yet, and he could step back to reappear once things calmed down.

“Don’t worry, he’s not usually like this.” Evri came up next to him. When Sebastian flinched away from him, he took a half step away, hands behind him. “Sorry,” he whispered. Then, tilting his head at Klavier, “He just gets agitated when an event’s this out of his control.”

“Which is why we don’t usually do these,” Todd added, approaching from the other side, more in Sebastian’s view. He sighed. “Hey.” When the other two looked over, he indicated Sebastian.

Klavier instantly switched his attention, getting up to move towards him. “Are you feeling better?” he asked gently.

“Yeah.” Even though he knew what happened wasn’t his fault, he still felt bad about it, since he must have derailed whatever plan Klavier had for them and added to his stress. Not to mention what the others must think of him (certainly most of his classmates hadn’t appreciated when he had these moments). It was embarrassing.

Not that Klavier said or did anything to that effect. “That’s good to hear. Well, since we have everyone together, I have a few things to go over about the performance.”

Apparently, the others hadn’t just been being nice when they complimented his playing (and he had actually heard things right). Sure, there were spots where he needed to fix something in his playing, but not much more than anyone else. And as they went (Klavier leading discussion with an impressive memory of the songs without having to look at anything), there were a few compliments chipped in with each song.

Evri chewed thoughtfully on his pen. “You don’t play like anyone I’ve worked with before. What genre do you usually work in?”

“Oh! I’m sorry! I don’t know how much I can fix it, but-”

“No, it sounds cool! We’d have to change the songs around a bit to make it really mesh,” he glanced over at Klavier who was nodding, “but I think it could really bring a new dimension to our music.”

Sebastian ducked his head. “Oh. Thanks.”

Although he didn’t know exactly what he meant by that – they didn’t exactly have time to rewrite any music before the performance. He kept waiting for someone else to bring it up in any way, but they didn’t.

“Now that we have all that settled, there’s a few more things, including, ah…” He trailed off, looking Sebastian up and down.

He tugged on his shirt, checking it. Had he got something on himself? “What?”

“Ach, nein. Nothing.” Klavier ran a hand through his bangs. “It’s just…”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” When Klavier glared at him, Daryan shrugged. “What? We were all thinking it. I mean,” he gestured to all of Sebastian.

He looked around and oh. The band didn’t have an exact look, but they were all black, dark purples and blues, silver jewelry, and makeup (again, dark colors, with some glitter). Meanwhile he had a light pink t-shirt over a blue long sleeved one, jeans so light they were basically pastels, and teal sneakers. How had he not noticed that before, he was- He squeezed his eyes shut, letting the one tear that had already collected spill down his face, and focused on his breaths. It was fine. He hadn’t noticed because there was a lot going on and he was stressed.

What he didn’t have as easy a reassurance for, as he opened his eyes to see Klavier starting to frown, was dressing wrong in the first place. Somehow, he just hadn’t thought about it, which in hindsight was st- No, what was a more helpful way of putting it...

“Hey, chill, guys.” Evri put a hand on Klavier’s shoulder. “We’ve gotta have something extra we can throw together, right? Just leave it to me.”

And then he was led back to the other part of the dressing room. The next few minutes were a blur of Evri holding things up to him, shaking his head, trying something else, and eventually handing things at him to try and pick from.

Evri tapped his finger against the side of his face, studying Sebastian, who was wearing a silver chain necklace and a black t-shirt that he’d pulled over his clothes but was still a bit baggy in the shoulders. “Don’t think there’s much we can do about the pants, but…” he snapped his fingers. “The necklace, and just the pink shirt. I think I know where to get some boots, and we can find something for over or under the top.” He went around to the rest of the room but zipped back into view. “Keep the gloves, though. I would’ve gone for something dark but...,” he shrugged. “They’ll work well enough.”

Sebastian didn’t bother to say he wouldn’t have taken them off anyway, just nodded. He changed quickly, waiting for Evri to return. But the place had to be air conditioned, or something, and the longer he sat the more he couldn’t not notice the cold pricking at his arms. Eventually he got up, picked out the first jacket he could reach, and threw it over his shoulders. It wouldn’t be worth the effort of putting it on properly if he was just taking it off again, and besides, the weight of it hanging on his shoulders was soothing.

“Alright, so I think these are even your size- oh.” Boots in hand, he paused to examine Sebastian’s new look. A grin appeared on his face. “Oh, keep that just like it is. And these shoes.”

They reappeared in the main dressing room area, Sebastian a tad unsteady from the extra weight of the boots.

“I’m telling you, Gavin, I know how it’s supposed to be set up!” Daryan huffed, standing directly in front of the door. “And it’s going to go much easier if you let us take care of it and you just stay here and-”

“And do what?” His voice didn’t quite reach a snap, but it was thinning out.

“And make finishing wardrobe touches for me.” Evri grabbed at Sebastian’s arm and stopped when he flinched. “Sorry,” he said. “Are you…?” When Sebastian nodded – he wasn’t great, but he didn’t want to dwell on it here – he strode over and grabbed Daryan instead, dragging him over toward Sebastian.

“What are you doing?”

He held Daryan’s arm next to Sebastian’s. “Comparing undertones. Hm,” he looked up at Sebastian, “you are like, right in the middle of us.” Letting go, he walked past Klavier to the counter and grabbed a box that he then tossed at him. “Eh, just use mine. I’ve got more colors and since we’re only on stage it’s not going to matter as much.”

Klavier glared between his bandmates, but sighed. “Ja. Alright. Go before I change my mind.”

Sebastian waited until the rest of them had left before approaching him. “Sorry I’m causing you all this trouble.”

“Ach.” His voice softened. “Don’t be; it’s just pre-concert stress. You’re being far more a help than-” He paused as he’d looked up. Eyes wide and mouth just slightly open, it was an expression Sebastian couldn’t place. Then, he smiled. “That’s my jacket you have there.”

He started. “Oh, sorry! I can take it off!”

“Nein! Ah-” he recovered from whatever had caused his hurried response. “It looks nice on you.”

A moment passed with the two of them just standing there. Sebastian adjusted the jacket. He’d almost expected Klavier to make a comment about it reminding him of when they were in school, but maybe he didn’t want to touch that. Which was fair. Despite nearly two years passing, they’d hardly ever broached the subject of Themis, and now wasn’t the best time for that.

Then Klavier shook his head lightly. “Well then, how do you feel about makeup?”

He gave a little half-shrug. Kay only used dark lipsticks and vibrant colors over her eyes, and even then just ‘special occasions’ (or he supposed, if nail polish counted, she seemed to have every color in that). She’d only talked him into trying it once, though. “...If you think it’s a good idea.” That came out in more of the strained tone of a question than he meant. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”

“That’s alright. Fortunately, I am very good at it.” He pulled a chair out from the mirror wall. “Sit? Und we’ll see what I can do.”

So, he sat.

Klavier scooted another chair over, facing Sebastian’s, and sat. As he opened the box, he murmured, “Evri is correct; since the audience will only be seeing us from a distance, we don’t have to bother with fine detail work, but,” he tossed his head back, “I still think you should look nice.” He leaned in, and suddenly he was very close to Sebastian’s face. But noticing the way his friend tensed, sat back. “Ach, I’m sorry, I forgot. Are you going to be alright with me…?” he motioned with his hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” That part didn’t bother him, Klavier was on the shortlist of people he was comfortable with contact, but he’d gotten so close, and it was unfair, being reminded how pretty he was.

He smiled. “Okay. Close your eyes, then?”

The next few minutes were quiet, Klavier only speaking in low tones to let him know what to expect, and himself not at all, trying to stay as still as he could. Initially he’d been relieved about not having to see, but then – knowing that Klavier was right there, the soft brushes against his face, Klavier putting a hand on him every once in a while to tilt his head to the right angle, his voice right in his ear – it seemed much worse. He really hoped his face wasn’t getting red like it felt it was.

“Und...there we are. How does that look?”

Sebastian checked the mirror. Mostly there was glitter. A lot of glitter – purple with hints of pink – over his eyes, across his forehead, down the sides of his face – but as he turned his head, the light seemed to catch flecks of it everywhere. He didn’t know the technical terms for any of it, but it looked neat. Even more importantly, when he glanced over at Klavier, he saw that it was the same style to match with the band. “I love it.”

“Wunderbar.” Klavier almost whispered it, smiling softly.

The moment was interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. “Is it safe to come in?”

Sebastian was too startled to do more than stare in that direction, but Klavier got up.

“Daryan, I told you, we’re-” he shook his head. “Is everything ready?”

The door swung open and he stuck his head in. “Yeah. Let’s get.”

The walk to the stage felt infinitely shorter, but maybe that was just him not processing anything around him. Nerves were starting to rouse in his stomach. Sure, he’d done alright before, but this counted. As they reached the backstage, he could hear the roar of the crowd, and he thought about all of those empty seats he’d seen earlier…

“Sebastian?” Klavier stepped beside him, close enough to be understood even with everything going on. (Which was very nearly as much as when he’d done his makeup.) “I should have given you these earlier.” With a sigh that was more felt than heard, he held a pair of earplugs. “They’re professional-grade, so they should do the trick.”

Sebastian put his hand out, and it wasn’t until Klavier’s closed over it that he realized it was shaking.

Klavier lingered for just a moment. Then he squeezed his hand and let go, slow enough that he could feel the brush of movement even through his gloves.

As he put them in, he noticed Evri nudge Todd and whisper something in his ear, which he laughed at. He quickly gave a thumbs-up and a smile when he noticed him looking, so Sebastian told himself it wasn’t about him.

One of the stage crew put a hand over their headphones, nodded, and then gave them the signal. They were up.

The earplugs did work very nicely, muting sound but keeping it comprehensible. Which he was even more grateful for as they made their way on stage – if he thought the audience was loud before, it was nothing compared to the screams of excitement that erupted once the Gavinners appeared. At least the lights made it hard to really see them, even if the brightness was also a bit disorienting.

Once everyone was in their places, Klavier approached the center mic. He raised his arm, and the crowd went quiet. “Guten abend.” Someone whooped, sending off a chain reaction, which he laughed at – a low, rich sound. “We’re the Gavinners, und I hope I’m not being presumptive in saying we need no other introduction.” A lot of screaming. “This first song is Love With No Chance of Parole. Let’s rock!” He dropped his arm, and they started playing.

The first song was an anxious blur of making sure he was getting everything right, all focus on his playing, but by the second he started to loosen up, really feeling the energy of the music and the crowd. When Klavier started talking again, Sebastian didn’t absorb any of the words, too mesmerized by watching him. He practically radiated joy, speaking with a posture so easy and so natural that it was like he’d been born there. And his smile! Sebastian felt like he’d seen Klavier smile like that before – at least, something like it – but his mind didn’t seem capable of a single thought.

The next song came up so fast he almost tripped over the beginning, but he caught himself.

And when that one ended, it seemed Klavier had a bit more to say.

“This next one will be our last song for the evening. Ach, I know,” he sighed in sympathy to the audience response. “But before that, I wanted to thank my bandmates.”

Tension spiked in him as Klavier continued. The thought of people paying attention to him – not as the keyboard player but as Sebastian Debeste – hadn’t even occurred to him until now. Klavier was just doing first names, but what if they recognized him? The thought of a sudden, disgusted silence, the kind of cold stare he was used to from the older lawyers and detectives, multiplied so many times over…

“...which is why I am so grateful for my friend who agreed to be our keyboardist for tonight; bitte, give a thanks to Sebastian!” Klavier practically spun around to gesture at him with the microphone, positively beaming right in his direction.

The attention startled him, but not as much as the burst of applause that followed. Right. He was fine. Of course he was fine, no one was close enough to see him, really, even if they would recognize him. These were just regular people.

As they finished the set, Sebastian was grinning, practically lightheaded from excitement. He’d never realized how much fun it was to play music with other people, feeding off each others’ energy and making something together that you couldn’t do on your own. And playing live, for this enthusiastic of an audience, also felt really good.

Getting up to exit the stage, he took about two steps before he tripped and fell right into Daryan. (Ok so, maybe actually lightheaded).

“Hey, watch it!” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” More dizziness, and he was having a hard time coordinating himself well enough to actually get up.

Klavier appeared at their side. “Ach, are you alright?”

He went to nod, but stopped himself. Too dizzy. Instead, he shrugged.

Frowning, he immediately held out an arm and after helping Sebastian up, insisted on giving him balance assistance all the way back.

Which Sebastian appreciated, even if the continued touch did make him want to scream. It wasn’t as bad as before, but he was still overstimulated and the combination of Klavier’s arm with the jacket brushing over his bare skin (which he did manage to slide off as they went) and sweat everywhere but especially his hands with his gloves (which he could not take off now) was sensory torment.

And then they were once again in the dressing room. Klavier sat him in one of the chairs. Then he turned around, leaning against the counter beside Sebastian. “Well, despite everything, that was a great performance!” Excitement radiated from him in a way Sebastian would have admired much more were he more in it. “It rocked, and I appreciate you all being here for it. Now, let’s pack up.”

The others dispersed around the room. As Sebastian made to move, though, Klavier stopped him. “Sebastian, you rest,” he said, voice soft. “I can grab your things for you and- oh. Before you leave, would you like help getting the makeup off?”

“No, I’ll be fine!” Being able to feel it on his face was also not doing him any favors right now, but it wasn’t the worst one, and besides, he didn’t want to make Klavier do that much more work for him. “I can ask Kay when I get home. She knows how to do that.”

At that, Evri glanced over towards them.

“Um, do you need something?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m good, thanks!” he said, and immediately turned and walked away.

Huh. Okay. When he looked back at Klavier, he was frowning. “What’s...wrong?”

He let out a sigh. “I’m not comfortable letting you drive home like this, but I’m trying to figure out what to do with your vehicle, since they don’t like people keeping them here overnight.”

“Oh! No, Kay dropped me off, so that’s not…” He stuck his hand in his pocket, then remembered he’d left his phone in here. “I can let her know to come get me.”

Klavier was already halfway toward Sebastian’s things. “Nein, tell her I’ll give you a ride. I live close enough, it’s no bother,” he said as he placed everything carefully in his lap.

“Uh, okay.” Turning his phone back on, he saw that he had four messages. One was from Justine about dinner tomorrow. The others were from Kay: a good-luck text shortly after he’d gotten there, and a photo of a black cat and an orange cat sitting in a box with simply “us.” He told her what was happening.

About three minutes later she responded with “chill.” Then, “but tell him if he takes too long I /will/ be calling Gummy + co on him.” “:P”

As he sat waiting for Klavier, someone plopped down next to him, prompting him to look up from cradling his head in the darkness of his arms against the counter.

It was the drummer. He examined himself in the mirror, tugging at his hair. As he did, he muttered something in Japanese that Sebastian only caught a few words of.

“I’m sorry, what about your hair?”

He looked away from his reflection, seeming to just notice Sebastian there. “Oh, no, I wasn’t- Am I being too loud?” he said in a soft voice, trace of a frown as he watched Sebastian. When he shook his head, he continued “you speak Japanese?”

Frowning, he wobbled his hand. “A little.” He’d been practicing with Kay ever since they found out they’d both been conversational in it as kids, but he wouldn’t say it was great yet. (A frightening amount of what she’d initially remembered had been swear words that apparently her babysitter had bribed her into not repeating or telling her dad about. “To be fair,” Kay had said, “she only said them if she did something like drop a wrench on her foot or burn herself cooking.”)

Evri made a little interested noise and then held up a section of hair. “I was just trying to figure out what style I’m going to go for next.” As he turned back to the mirror, he said casually, “So what is it that you do when you’re not moonlighting for a rock group?”

“School. And-” He remembered then, about Klavier telling him all the Gavinners were in law; mentioning his studying with Mr. Edgeworth and Ms. Von Karma would lead into too many other things. And he doubted this guy wanted to hear about campus dining job. “other stuff.”

A small laugh. “Yeah, same. It’s all online, because of the tours and such, so it’s fine, but not the same. Should I ask what you’re studying or is that too much like every relative at a holiday party?”

He didn’t quite get the reference, but laughed to be polite. “I’m going to be a prosecutor.”

“So you and Klavier will be coworkers eventually. Nice.” He took a long breath. “Well, I should get to helping before Daryan glares a hole through my head. See you later.”

Sebastian made a vague noise, and let himself drift off into grogginess.

It was a little while longer until they were ready to leave, since Klavier had to get everything settled with the event staff and everything – Sebastian didn’t know the details because he was busy decompressing again. On the bright side, though, that meant by the time they headed out into the parking lot, he was just tired and sweaty. It was a nice night, not too warm because of the slight breeze, and comfortably dark. And the lot had mostly emptied out.

Klavier opened the door for him and then circled around to the driver’s side. “Feel free to change the settings if you get uncomfortable,” he said, starting up the car and then immediately switching the speakers off. For a moment, he was quiet, but as they pulled onto the street, he said, “I really can’t thank you enough for your help tonight. Especially,” he sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, “since it ended up bothering you so much.”

“It’s fine, really.” Certainly nothing that a shower and going to sleep wouldn’t fix. Sebastian hugged his knees to his chest. He kind of wanted to take his shoes and socks off, but didn’t know if that would be weird. Glancing over, it was hard to read Klavier’s expression in profile with only the ever-shifting streetlights, but it seemed somewhere in the ‘upset’ family. “It’s not your fault. If I’d known before, I would’ve been able to handle it better, but you didn’t know.”

They pulled up at a red light, and Klavier glanced over. “Ah, mausi,” he murmured, smiling sadly, “that’s not the point. I-”

The car behind honked. Jumping, he started moving again. After a few blocks, he started again. “I don’t want to be responsible for hurting you, even if it was unintentional. You deserve better than that.”

Oh. Sebastian had heard that sentiment before, but still. He blinked away a handful of tears and nodded, before remembering Klavier wasn’t looking at him. “That’s really nice of you.”

Now Klavier was smiling in earnest. “I wasn’t saying it to be nice; it’s merely the truth. But I suppose it doesn’t hurt if they’re one and the same, ja?”

He laughed. Now this was more of Klavier as he knew him: inexplicably nice all the time and easy to talk with.

“Und next time we hang out, I’ll make sure it’s something you would actually enjoy.”

Crossing his arms, he pouted. “Hey, I didn’t completely hate this.”

Klavier’s posture stiffened (and Sebastian had a moment of oh wait that was too mean wasn’t it), but then he let out an airy laugh. “That’s...that makes me very happy to hear. Ah, what part of the music was it that finally convinced you?”

“It wasn’t the music.” Honestly, he’d barely given the songs actual thought beyond what it took to play them. “It was you, and everyone else, and...it was just, nice? I had fun,” he said, trailing off quietly. A moment later, he perked up. “Oh, you want to turn right here.”

“Ah!” Klavier sprung into movement, making the turn a little late, jerking the car forcefully as he did so.

Was it just him, or was Klavier spacing out a bit? He did that, Sebastian knew, but he’d driven with him once before and it hadn’t seemed to be a problem then. “Are you okay?”

“Ja, of course,” he said, brushing hair out of his face with his free hand. “It’s one of these, ja?”

They pulled up in front of the apartments. “Thanks for the ride. And, uh,” he leaned against the open passenger door frame, “talk to you later?”

“I’m already looking forward to it.”

When he got to the door, he waved back at Klavier, then headed inside.

Kay was sprawled out across the couch, tapping idly at her phone. Seeing him, she grinned. “You look like you had fun.”

He smiled back. “Yeah.” He took a few steps forward, prepared to collapse right next to her.

“Sebi, no!” A hand pressed on each of his shoulders, she pushed him back. “If you sit now, we are never gonna get the glitter out of the cushions, you have…” She cautiously touched the very top of his hair. “Oh that’s so much,” she breathed excitedly. Then she spun him around. “Ok, go shower, but don’t move until you get there.”

He smirked. “What, like this?” and he shook his head.

“Noo!” She whined, although it was half laughter. A little unsteadily, Kay shove-guided him into the bathroom. “And you’re sweeping that up when you’re done!” she called through the door.

“Love you too.”

#aaprosecutorweek2021 #ace attorney #Sebastian Debeste #Klavier Gavin #Daryan Crescend #Kay Faraday #I need proper tags for the gavinners ocs boys now huh. unfortunately we still don't have last names so...placeholder tags it is #Evri #todd gavinners #klavbastian #an aquila original #fanfiction #my writing #oh also there are definitely aai2 spoilers in here

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Text

Curiosity pt.6

“Are you implying that I’m not good enough to blackmail?” Which well, that maybe isn’t what you should be annoyed by.

A month passes. You don’t talk in class, just keep your head bowed low, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. You ignore Tom in the hallways and in the lessons you share. You suppose that you should probably revert to calling him Riddle, but referring to a man you’ve had sex with by their last name, even in the comfort of your own head, makes you feel dirty.

He tries to talk to you twice. He doesn’t try a third time.

You don’t tell Marie or Stephanie what’s transpired between you and Tom and eventually, they stop asking. You’re content to let them believe that whatever courtship or relationship they thought had been budding between the two of you had died. It’s easier to pretend that you’re just sad that you’ve missed your chance with Hogwarts’ most sought after bachelor. The truth is so much more complicated.

The last of the bitter Scottish winter gives way into Spring and with it comes blue skies, crisp winds, and luscious greenery. Stephanie’s attention is fixed firmly on the final quidditch matches of the school year and Marie begins her yearly fretting over exams. You’re left in blessed peace to ruminate on and stew in your own misery.

It’s far too early on a Saturday for you to be up, but the Great Hall is always empty until at least nine on the weekends and you’ve taken to avoiding large crowds lest you accidentally run into him. As expected, you’re alone save for the ghosts this morning. You’re stirring honey into your tea when a shadow falls over you. You don’t look up. The shadow coughs politely. You glower at your tea. The shadow sighs and there are footsteps and the sound of someone taking a seat opposite you. When you finally look up, Tom is watching you intently. Merlin, it’s so frustratingly easy to get distracted looking at him. The first thing you notice (and you hate that you do) is that he looks somewhat tense. His expression is a mask of polite indifference and his hands rest casually on the table in front of him but there is a tautness to his posture, as though he’s steeling himself for a fight.

You think that that should please you. At one point, it definitely would have done, but right now you’re still too raw from the events of a month ago to feel anything other than resigned fatigue at his appearance. “You’ve been ignoring me.” He says, and though his tone is placid you can detect a hint of something hard lacing his consonants.

“What good observational skills you have. Though that’s hardly a surprise, seeing as I’ve been on the receiving end of your interest for months at this point.” The anger at your own stupidity and his manipulation rears its head once more and you’re somewhat taken aback by how much venom has crept into your voice.

“Perhaps, if you’d let me explain-”

“No.” You cut him off, gathering your things and shoving them into your bag with more force than is strictly necessary. “No, I will not let you explain. I think you made yourself perfectly clear the last time. You have what you want, your curiosity is sated. You have your own blackmail material on me, should you ever feel the need to use it, and all it took was-” You can’t finish the sentence. All it took was a little flattery and his clever tongue touching and playing with you until you’d… Really, it had taken nothing at all. “I don’t know what else you could possibly need to explain to me. I understand what I am to you and what this entire thing was about. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you just leave me alone.” You don’t hang around to see understanding dawn on Tom’s face, nor do you hang around to see resolve settle firmly on his shoulders.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees underneath a yew tree by the lake, your bag thrown haphazardly a few feet away. You stare at the lake and determinedly blink back the tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks. A horrible mix of embarrassment and anger is bubbling in your stomach and your hands shake as you reach down and tug blindly at strands of grass as if they are what your ire is directed at. Merlin, you’ve been stupid. Incredibly, horrendously stupid. You’d known that Riddle was bad news. You hadn’t trusted him from the moment he’d smiled down at you that evening in the dining hall. Almost every meeting between the both of you since had been a constant push and pull, neither of you willing to back down or give way… And now…

Now he has the information that he wanted and the game is up. You’ve lost. And all because somewhere along the line you had forgotten exactly why it was that he’d been interested in you in the first place. You’d let your imagination get the best of you and for a moment you’d let yourself believe that it wasn’t about Mr Larkins anymore. That he was there because of you. Just you and not the secrets that you had tried so hard to keep.

Merlin, what was he going to do with you now that he knew. Blackmailing a teacher (and you have to admit to yourself now that that was exactly what you had been doing) was a serious offence. Enough to get you expelled for sure. Muggles went to prison for blackmail, didn’t they? Would you be sent the Wizengamot? Or would Tom just hold it over your head for eternity? Surely not. He had no use for you now, after all; you can’t keep kidding yourself that he liked or wanted you. You can’t keep kidding yourself that that was part of why this was so painful.

Beyond the fear you feel for your future, rejection is a bitter pill lodged in the back of your throat.

“You might appreciate it if I left you alone, but I’d appreciate it if you stopped running away from me.” Tom’s voice is conversational, cheerful almost. You let out a strangled scream of annoyance. He hums a soft little laugh in response. He settles himself down beside you, long legs stretching out in from him, crossed over at the ankle. You notice he’s holding the folder. “You honestly think I’d blackmail you?” He asks, still in that conversational toned and you feel your hackles rise.

“Are you implying that I’m not good enough to blackmail?” Which well, that maybe isn’t what you should be annoyed by.

“You seem intent on misunderstanding everything I have to say, I see.” He says and, at last, something approaching annoyance enters his voice. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s frowning slightly. As in the Great Hall, his posture suggests he’s at ease, he’s taken his tie off and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. But something is lurking beneath his relaxed exterior that suggests he’s nervous. “I have no intention of blackmailing you. At first, perhaps, but not any longer. And…” You drop the pretence of not looking at him entirely and turn full to face him. He doesn’t look at you and you get the impression that whatever he’s trying to say does not come easily. “I apologise if that’s the impression I gave you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the apology, which whilst stilted, appears genuine. Then, almost immediately after narrow in suspicion and indignation. “What other impression could you possibly have given me? Apart from, maybe, toying with me for your own amusement.” You ask acidly.

His jaw clenches and you notice dimly that he’s making hardly any effort to hide his emotions. He’s almost an open book. Which is… strange. You’re reminded of all the times that Tom’s treatment of you has left you feeling confused. Confused because he doesn’t act the same way around you as he does with the rest of your peers. He’ll put on a facade of politeness, sometimes, but it usually unravels within minutes. You’ve watched him charm and flatter the worst of your professors, that small careful smile never faltering until they’re putty in his hands.

He’s tried to intimidate, taunt, and seduce you but he’s never tried to charm you. The realisation hits you harder than you’d like. But so what that Tom doesn’t seem to think you’re worth the effort? Does it matter that he drops his perfect little persona around you? Yes, the quiet, treacherously hopeful voice in your mind whispers, yes it matters. Of course, it matters.

“That we were having fun, perhaps?” He says at last and he looks pained just saying it. As though telling you that some part of him had enjoyed your company and had assumed that you enjoyed his is physically uncomfortable to admit. Maybe it is. “That I believed you and I had some level of understanding regarding our relationship?”

You ask incredulously, “Has this been your way of flirting with me, Tom?” At the sound of his name on your lips, he turns to face you and you can practically see him come undone. His throat constricts around a swallow and you can’t stop yourself from tracing the column of his neck to where his collarbones, surprisingly delicate and sharp protrude from the collar of his open shirt with your eyes. He follows your gaze intently. “You never tried to charm me.” You murmur, finally bring your gaze to meet his.

“I’ve only ever been honest with you,” He replies, his voice equally soft. An admission that his persona is mostly a lie, used to trick and manipulate everyone else. Maybe that should put you off, make you turn away from him for good. It doesn’t. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know you when the few things I did know were so interesting. You can’t blame me for liking you more when I found out the rest.” It’s strange, knowing that the parts of you that usually stop people from liking or trusting you are what draws him to you. Then again, maybe it isn’t strange at all. You’re remarkably similar in so many ways, after all. “I thought, perhaps, that you regretted it.” Regretted me, is what he means. Is what he won’t say. Is what you hear nonetheless.

You’ll need to talk more later; you need to know what he intends to do with the knowledge of your blackmailing schemes but later. Right now… You lick your lower lip and you don’t miss the way he tracks the movement. “I don’t. Regret it.” He nods once, a short decisive shake of his head. You’ve made up your mind. “You should kiss me now.” And he does. He shifts and suddenly you’re being dragged to his side, one large hand curving around your waist and another cupping your jaw, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You feel like maybe, you’ve just won the best kind of game there is.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

Tarlos prompt.

Carlos just had a break down about life. And his mum sorts him out. Which ends in his Mum having a convo with TK about how much Carlos and her were close until the weird coming out thing

thank you so much for your prompt! i hope you enjoy what i came up with!

also written for day 1 of @911lonestarangstweek: Emotional whump + “How do we fix this?”

ao3 | 2.1k

Of all the people TK might have expected to show up at the house when Carlos is on shift, Andrea Reyes is not one of them.

Unfortunately, however, she has, and TK is now painfully aware that he’s barefoot, wearing a stained t-shirt and sweats in front of his boyfriend’s mother, who he has only officially met once. She raises a solitary eyebrow, looking him up and down, and TK flushes deeply.

“Um, Mrs Reyes, hi,” he stammers. “Carlos is at work.”

“I know.” She smirks at his clear surprise, then gestures inside. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” TK steps aside, wringing his hands together nervously as Mrs Reyes walks in. She looks around the space as though seeing it for the first time, which he vaguely registers as strange, given Carlos has lived here for years. Most of his mind, however, is taken up with freaking out over the fact that Carlos’s mother is here; she had seemed nice enough when Carlos had taken him over for Sunday dinner last week, but TK is in no way prepared for one-on-one interactions yet.

Especially now, when he’s barely been awake for an hour. “I-If you want to take a seat,” he says, trying to tame his anxiety, “I’ll just go and get changed into something a little more, um, presentable.”

He’s about to make a break for the stairs when Mrs Reyes catches his arm, her grip gentle but firm. “Don’t be silly,” she admonishes. “I may be Carlos’s mother, but this is your home too, no?”

“Well… It’s not... We don’t exactly… Can I get you something to drink?”

“You can sit down.”

Mrs Reyes smiles in clear amusement, and TK’s pretty sure he couldn’t be redder if he tried. He studiously avoids eye contact as he shuffles to the opposite end of the couch, sinking down into it with his gaze firmly fixed on his lap. He wishes Carlos were here, but he’s still got hours left on his shift.

Which reminds him. “Mrs, Reyes, I don’t mean to be rude, but…” He trails off, unsure how to phrase the question without sounding horrifically insulting.

Thankfully, she seems to understand. “You’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

TK nods. “Not that you’re not welcome!” he hurries to say. “But I figured you’d be here to see Carlos, only he’s not here, so… So.”

He winces at his own awkwardness, knowing he’s cutting a stark contrast to his behaviour at dinner. Sure, he can turn on the charm when he’s prepared and awake and with Carlos, but alone, half-asleep, and totally not expecting a visit?

He’s doomed.

Mrs Reyes sighs deeply. When TK looks back up at her, her expression has turned sad, a weariness in her face.

“Carlos came by our house before his shift this morning.”

TK raises a surprised eyebrow at the news; Carlos had left at six this morning, and he hadn’t said anything about going to see his parents. Not that he was supposed to, but TK can’t help but worry, especially with the way Mrs Reyes is looking at him.

“You know that two days ago was his first shift back after the suspension, yes?” she continues, nodding at TK’s confirmation. “He… When he arrived this morning, he was distressed, panicking over everything - mostly work, but he hinted at other things that I don’t… I’m not really sure what he was talking about. I was hoping you might have a little more insight?”

TK’s heart clenches at her words, but he forces a smile for Mrs Reyes’s sake. “What did he say?”

“What I understood was that he was anxious about going back to work. He thinks that no-one trusts him anymore, and he said that maybe they were right not to. I told him he was being crazy, but I don’t know if he listened to me.”

“Carlos never told me any of this,” TK whispers, horrified. He’d had no idea Carlos had been struggling so much, and he could kick himself for not pushing when he’d said that he was fine.

Mrs Reyes smiles thinly. “Of course he didn’t,” she says, almost fondly. “My Carlitos is a worrier; he’ll fuss over everyone else and never give a thought to himself, even if it runs him into the ground. I’m sure you know this.” She gestures to the scar on his forehead, and TK reaches up to touch it, running his fingers lightly over the ridged tissue.

He nods, sighing. “I’m sorry,” he says, barely able to look at her now. “I should have made sure he was okay. I asked, of course I did, but -”

Mrs Reyes cuts him off by reaching over to grab his hand. She smiles at him when TK looks up in shock, then squeezes gently. “You are not to blame. Carlitos can be very stubborn, especially when it comes to himself. He gets that from his father.”

She chuckles, then her face takes on that heavy look again and she lets go of TK, sitting back in her seat. “We talked for a while about his worries over work, but there was a point when I don’t think we were just talking about his job anymore. He said something about Gabriel and never being enough for him, but he wouldn’t explain when I asked. He left soon after that.”

TK swallows nervously. He has a pretty good idea what Carlos might have been referring to, but he doesn’t have a clue how to go about talking to Mrs Reyes about it. It feels wrong to do it without Carlos’s knowledge, anyway.

“It was your husband leading the investigation, wasn’t it?” he hedges, trying to steer her in that direction.

“It was, but this was more than that, I’m sure of it.” She sighs, sudden tears glinting in her eyes and - oh, TK is so not prepared for this. “We used to be so close, you know? All of us. But, one day, something changed. I don’t know what, or why, but suddenly he started keeping his distance more, and he stopped talking to us. I love my son, I only want the best for him, but it’s been years and now I don’t know how to help him.”

She meets his eyes, her gaze almost pleading with him. “You clearly care for him, TK, and I’ve never seen my son so happy as when he’s with you. Please, if you know anything… I just want to understand.”

TK bites his lip. Talking about this with Mrs Reyes feels like a betrayal of Carlos, but he’s not seeing a way out of this anymore. If she’s half as stubborn as her son, she won’t leave until she has at least some answers, and there’s no way she’ll believe he knows nothing.

“Did things change when he was around seventeen, by any chance?” he asks eventually, guilt twisting in his gut. “Maybe just after he, um, came out?”

Her lips part in surprise, a small crease forming between her brows. “Yes. But, I don’t understand, are you implying this is because of that? All we care about is that he’s happy, not who he loves; Gabriel and I have always done our best to support Carlos.”

TK winces. “All due respect, Mrs Reyes, but I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look, this is really a conversation you should be having with Carlos, I’ve already said too much -”

“If you have something to say, TK, please, just say it.” The warmth has dropped from Mrs Reyes’s face and she seems to be holding herself tighter. TK’s heart sinks; he’s just ruined things with his boyfriend’s mother. Perfect.

He swallows, staring hard at the floor. “It’s just something that came up after we met you at the market,” he explains quietly. “Carlos...he wasn’t sure how you would react to - to us, so he did what he does best, and chose to protect us both.”

“Protect?” Mrs Reyes’s voice is horrified, and TK looks up to find her staring at him in open confusion. “From what?”

TK doesn’t respond, but his grimace must be enough to tell her all she needs to know. She gasps and lifts a hand to her mouth, eyes shining.

“We thought…” She breaks off, shaking her head. “How do we fix this?”

He sighs. “Mrs Reyes… I can’t speak for Carlos, nor can I claim to fully understand what he’s been through. I came out to my parents when I was fourteen, and they were vocal about their support, to say the least.” TK chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, his teenage embarrassment returning for a brief moment. “I’m not saying that’s the way to go, god knows it was awkward and overwhelming for all of us, but maybe talking to him would be a start? Carlos knows you love him, ma’am, but it wouldn’t hurt to let him know that you love all of him, if you understand what I mean?”

Mrs Reyes nods, sniffing and wiping at her eyes. “Thank you, TK,” she says, sending him a barely-there smile. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She stands and TK hurries to follow, grabbing the door for her.

He’s equal part relieved and worried over her abrupt exit; much longer, and TK thinks he might have lost it, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s fucked up beyond repair. So, he’s surprised when she turns in the doorway and pulls him into a gentle hug.

“I’m glad Carlitos has you,” she smiled, patting his cheek. “And, it’s Andrea.”

With that, Mrs Reyes walks out, leaving TK staring after her, more than a little confused.

That night, TK watches Carlos move about their bedroom, his conversation with Andrea weighing on him as he twists the bedsheets in his hands. He knows he needs to talk to Carlos about it, but he has no idea where to start.

Carlos slides into bed beside him and TK instinctively leans his head on his shoulder. He’s just about worked up enough courage to say something, when Carlos interrupts, playing with TK’s fingers.

“My mom said she stopped by today.”

TK freezes, Carlos’s careful tone sending fear down his spine. He looks up slowly, biting his lip. “I was going to tell you, I swear. I just…couldn’t figure out how.” He pauses, waiting for some sort of reaction, but none is forthcoming. “Did she… Did she tell you what we talked about?”

Carlos hums. “Some of it. She wants me to go over tomorrow to talk about the rest of it.”

TK closes his eyes, slumping back against the headboard. “Shit, Carlos, I’m so sorry. I know I overstepped. I - I shouldn’t have said half of that stuff, I was way out of line -”

“TK.” Carlos’s voice is firm but gentle, cutting through TK’s panicked rambling. He looks over at him, some of his anxiety melting at the small smile on his boyfriend’s face. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“Don’t I?”

Carlos sighs. “Would I have preferred to have been there? Sure. But I’m not mad about anything you said. I know you didn’t really want to; my mom said she practically forced it out of you.”

TK huffs a laugh, but doesn’t try to deny it. “Still,” he says. “Is everything okay between you guys now?”

“We’re fine.” Carlos pulls him close, kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“Like I could ever stop,” he mutters, resting his head on Carlos’s chest and drawing his arms around him. Carlos moves as if to lie down, but TK stops him, another question burning in his mind. “Why didn’t you say anything about how worried you were to go back to work?”

Carlos tenses, silence dragging out for a brief moment. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he confesses eventually. “You had enough on your plate with the kidnapping and recovering, and I couldn’t add onto all of that. I was dealing with it.”

TK’s heart breaks at the words, tears pricking at his eyes. “Oh, Carlos,” he breathes. He twists to meet Carlos’s gaze, gripping his hands tight. “You know I love you, right?”

Carlos nods, frowning a little. “Of course. I love you, too.”

“Exactly,” TK continues. “This relationship is a two-way street, babe. I know you like caring for people, but you’ve got to let me care for you as well. You can come to me about anything, and I promise I’ll do my best to help you, just like you do for me. Please, let me in, Carlos.”

Carlos blinks, clearing his throat. “I… I’ll try,” he says eventually, ducking his head.

TK smiles. “That’s all I ask.”

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pockyxx · 3 years

Note

I am requesting Iwa-chan pleaseee.

yes, yes i can. i’m sorry if this is so bad i legit had no clue what to do 😭 if i delete it, i’ll probably write something else w iwa chan 😩

“ confession letter ”

h. iwaizumi x fem!reader

genre: fluff. barely crack humour at the end. tiny winy bit of hurt/comfort.

iwaizumi always had an eye on you, watching you from the other side of the classroom. it started as a small crush but slowly grew into something more. it wasn’t difficult to, though, you’d always come to watch their practice and you got along well with the team.

he found you so fascinating, being so quiet and reserved in class but loud and energetic around the team, specifically oikawa. the two of you seemed to get along great. that’s what lead to his self-doubt.

he always thought you had a crush on the setter and that he didn’t stand a chance. hell, iwaizumi was always used by oikawa’s fangirls whenever they needed love letters to be passed along. not to mention he was always in the back ground when they would gift the captain homemade chocolates or cookies.

so, seeing you nervously approach him in the club room after practice with something in your clutches set off a flame inside of him. he kept his face straight, not turning to face you as you got closer.

“uh, iwaizumi-san?” you bit your lip, waiting to meet his eyes but it took longer than usual. you could feel your heart beating rapidly, your fingers shaking out of nervousness.

iwaizumi didn’t say anything as he slightly pivoted, his locker door was still open and he had a towel hanging around his neck. his eyes trailed down to the letter you held onto, in a pink envelope, sealed with a cute little heart sticker.

“is that for oikawa?” he grunted, tossing his sweat towel back into the locker before slamming the locker door, startling you. “of course it is.”

you opened your mouth, trying to figure out how to explain that it was for him but you were too late as iwaizumi snatched the confession out of your hand and stormed off.

he was never one to loose his cool like that in front of you but he was human, and it happens. he didn’t even bother to say anything else to you although as he turned his head you’d already disappeared.

iwaizumi frowned, shoving the letter into his back pocket without giving it a second glance, figuring he should find oikawa and hand over your confession letter.

his hands became fists as he saw oikawa laughing along side mattsun and makki. with his lips pressed together, the third years quickly picked up on his off putting mood.

“did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?” makki jested, nudging the ace. once again, iwaizumi scowled and tried to compose himself. he pulled out the love note he kept in his pocket, it had filled with crinkles as a result of the mishandling.

“this is for you.” he didn’t feel bad that the envelope had gotten folded, in fact it eased his almost vengeful spirit. because it was wrinkled up, the girl he liked wouldn’t be able to confess to her crush like she hoped. oikawa could already guess the contents of the letter, he opened it with excitement.

clearing his voice, he began reading out loud much to the amusement of the other third years.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t say this in person but i hope you understand.” he paused, watching as the others giggled. “i really needed to tell you how i feel... and to be honest i was scared to see your reaction face to face...”

oikawa stopped reading out loud, his eyes quickly trailing through the rest of the letter.

“why’d you stop?” mattsun pouted along with makki. oikawa frowned, looking back up at his friends.

“say iwa chan, who gave you this?” he narrowed his eyes while looking at his best friend, realizing the note of wasn’t meant for him, specifically by the use of the same ‘iwaizumi.’

iwaizumi huffed, crossing his arms but at the same time trying to seem in different.

“y/n.” oikawa raised his eyebrows and the others shut their mouths and stopped their playful side banter.

“what did she say when she gave it to you?” oikawa interrogated, hands on his hips. iwaizumi looking dead on at the setter.

“she... she didn’t say anything...” he recounted the events for his friends while they all seemed disappointed.

“you’re pretty dense, y’know.” oikawa teased, “take another look at the letter.” he handed it back to iwaizumi, walking off with mattsun and makki.

looking down at the pink paper, he observed the hand writing, smiling at how neatly you printed. iwaizumi swallowed any type of fear and began reading the letter.

i’m sorry that i couldn’t say this to you in person but i hope you understand. i really needed to tell you how i feel... and to be honest i was scared to see your reaction face to face. we’ve been classmates and friends for a while and i was terrified we’d ruin what we already had and that things would get awkward. but my friends told me i should be honest with you, iwaizumi. well, at least as honest as i can be through a letter. i like you. a lot. so by the time you read this you could text me or tell me in person your response. i’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and i understand if you think we should end our prexisting relationship.

he frowned, how could he be so stupid? he knew he had to find you, rushing across campus until he could hear muffled sniffles from behind the gym. right when he heard them, he knew they belonged to you.

you were all curled up, back leaning against the wall and rubbing your puffy red eyes.

“y/n?” he clearly caught you off guard as you jumped at the sound of his voice. biting your lip, you look up to him, on the verge of crying again. “do you mind if i sit down?”

you waited for a quick second, wiping your eyes once before nodding. iwaizumi sat down next to you, shoulder’s touching. you didn’t know what to say and you were pretty sure iwaizumi didn’t know either.

“i’m sorry.” he admitted, he wasn’t very good at verbally conveying emotion. pressing your lips together, whispering a small ‘it’s okay.’

“no, it’s really not. i shouldn’t have reacted like that, i should’ve given you a minute to talk.. I just.. I thought you were going to give it to shittykawa.” you giggled slightly at the vulgar nickname, which made iwa’s heart flutter, giving him a sign he was some what on the right track with his words.

“because the thing is y/n, i feel the same. so i was stupid and got jealous thinking that you likes him.” you nodded in understanding, hugging your knees and realizing what that meant, you broke out into an overwhelming blush.

hiding your face from him once more, he honestly got scared he’d done something to upset you even more.

“hey, hey don’t cry.” he let his actions speak first, pulling you by your shoulders and cradled your head with his hands. it was easy to say your brain had stopped working at that point.

“uh, iwaizumi-san, i can’t breath.” you poked his bicep and he quickly let go. both of you had an equally deep blush on your faces. you looked away,

“so, do you wanna get boba?” he asked awkwardly trying to change to subject. what else was he supposed to do? you agreed with a smile, walking with him laughing at the misunderstanding.

it was an odd day to say the least.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 6 - ao3 -

As Lao Nie had predicted, Lan Qiren won the music competition.

This by itself would not excuse him from punishment – disobedience was disobedience, regardless of the result – but Lan Qiren’s brother, proud of the glory that had accrued to their sect under his leadership, decided that it mitigated it somewhat, and as a result the imposition of the appropriate penalty was postponed until they returned to the Cloud Recesses. There was a strong implication that any future misbehavior during the trip would be added in when determining the extent of the punishment, but Lan Qiren didn’t care about that: with his brother’s word, however careless, overriding his teacher’s, he was finally allowed to go out to look around the Nightless City.

Of course, by now all the other disciples had settled firmly into their groups, so he was still alone - he opted not to mention that to his brother. Given how cautious his brother was being to make sure that the conference went well and without interruption, he knew it would invariably result in his either being forced into someone else’s group or to not go out, and he didn’t want either of those. Anyway, he could take precautions by himself: since he knew he was traveling alone, he would be careful to stay in the areas that were indicated as safe, although he thought happily to himself that soon he would be old enough to go wherever he wanted without concern – not that he especially longed to go to the districts full of brothels or drug dens, of course.

It was reasonable to be cautious for now, though, given his unfamiliarity with cities. He was as dazzled by the massive night market – as boisterous as any of the daytime markets – as any country yokel, and the items available for purchase were as many and varied as the people who came to the Nightless City to sell them. It was almost a pity to have to return to the Sun Palace the next day for the remaining events of the discussion conferences, largely academic discussions and skill exchanges, or the day after, to spectate on the other competitions, both the minor ones for things like calligraphy and mathematics and, more importantly, the second main event, showcasing skill in riding.

Lan Qiren wasn’t competing, of course, but he obediently showed up to observe – or, rather, to daydream about something more interesting while keeping his face carefully oriented towards the competition stage – and the second he could, he slipped away into the depths of the Sun Palace once the competition itself was over. Actually leaving entirely would be rude, of course, even if it would have been his real preference to return to the wonders of the city. Still, he would much rather walk through the halls than endure the inevitable rounds of mutual congratulations that invariably occurred during the celebration held after the discussion conference’s main competition. All those sect leaders buttering each other up…

There were times, he reflected, when he was very happy to have been born a younger son.

Lan Qiren did his best to avoid any places where people were gathered, turning back at once if he saw the rooms were occupied. There was no formal banquet tonight, to his relief – they’d all eaten while waiting for the competition to finish – but the socializing had started in earnest, and it felt like there were people everywhere. It would go on late into the night, with sect leaders toasting each other from the endless jars of wine that could be found everywhere, and there would be a thousand and one boring retellings of the same old stories everyone always told at these things.

Better to avoid people.

Certainly better to avoid people like Wen Ruohan, Lan Qiren thought, backing away from a room that appeared to be a small library, where the sect leader was standing and gazing out of the window, not far from a small table with two place settings already laid out. Its presence suggested a more private rendezvous was anticipated, and others more inclined to gossip than he might have chosen to stay and try to see if they could figure out who Wen Ruohan would be meeting – probably Lao Nie, if Lan Qiren had to guess, given the whole Hanhan situation – or possibly to try to form a further connection with the aloof and arrogant sect leader, but Lan Qiren kept his brother’s warnings in mind: Wen Ruohan was dangerous.

Anyway, he’d gotten into more than enough trouble for one trip.

After a little more searching, he found a small, secluded garden – quite possibly the very same one from a few days before, now that he thought about it, though he’d long lost any sense of direction he might have had – and settled down on the bench with a relieved sigh. The party was far too loud and too boisterous for his taste, with far too many people. He might long for adventure and new experiences, but it was the lonely road and quiet towns that called to him, and sometimes also the massive and faceless cities, not the full-of-themselves sect leaders, each one in love with their own voice, that seemed to pride themselves on talking at least once to everyone who attended.

At any rate, it wasn’t his problem. His brother had made clear that he didn’t want Lan Qiren to assist him in forming connections for the sect – assuming he even could, with his terrible social skills that mostly made his brother and most of his etiquette teachers want to forget he even existed – and that meant he was completely justified in hiding himself away here where no one would find him.

“I never got a chance to congratulate you on your victory,” a low voice said from behind him, and Lan Qiren started in sudden surprise, having not heard someone enter the room.

Though, he supposed as he rose to salute, he wouldn’t – the difference between his cultivation and Wen Ruohan’s was like night and day.

“Sect Leader Wen,” he said respectfully, keeping his head down. His brother had been especially clear that he wasn’t to cause trouble for this man in particular. Not like last time, even though Lan Qiren still wasn’t entirely clear on what it was that he was supposed to have done wrong previously. He was starting to think he’d never figure it out.

Wen Ruohan walked into the room, his pace as slow and graceful as it had been three years ago – the glide of a very self-assured predator that knew itself to be the unquestioned master of its domain, not only fearless but also smug in its self-evident superiority. The aura of power, his cultivation at a level that could scarcely be dreamed of by most people, draped around him like a gaudy cloak, meant to excite envy and fear in equal measure.

Lan Qiren had heard rumors that Wen Ruohan would sometimes use the sheer weight of his power to lock people into place, forcing them to their knees or backs on the floor in front of him, humiliating and tormenting them for his own amusement, but he didn’t feel anything like that. It was a display of power, yes, but no more so than the priceless spiritual gem that hung on Wen Ruohan’s forehead or the luxurious quality of his clothing, white and red flame, black belt and gauntlets, the finest fabrics and the best embroidery.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “Or at least the hem of your robes – were you running away from me?”

Lan Qiren’s face suddenly felt hot with embarrassment. “No, of course not!”

That interpretation hadn’t even occurred to him. Had he really been rude? Should he have stopped to greet him properly? He hadn’t thought so, since he hadn’t even entered the room, but his instincts on such things had always been terrible…

And there was still his brother’s exhortation not to spend time with Wen Ruohan.

“Forgive my rudeness, Sect Leader Wen,” he said, dropping back down into a second low bow before rising again. “No slight was intended. I’m not supposed to be alone with other sect leaders.”

“No? And yet yesterday I recall seeing you sitting here with Sect Leader Nie.”

That was true.

What was he supposed to say to that? ‘Yes, but he’s nice’? ‘But I’ve known him for years’? ‘He’s one of our sect allies, you’re too dangerous’? ‘I was told to avoid you specifically’?

Lan Qiren might not be the best at social niceties, but even he knew he couldn’t say something like that.

His face must be demonstrating some degree of his panic, because Wen Ruohan chuckled.

“You can make it up by spending some time with me now, little Lan,” he said, waving a hand in forgiveness. “Come with me – the study is far more comfortable than this garden, especially at this time of year.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really have any knowledge of what the garden was like at this time as opposed to other times, being that this was his only visit so far to the Nightless City, but he had no reason to question Wen Ruohan’s judgment on the matter.

A quick mental review suggested that he had no choice but to comply. His brother had been emphatic that Lan Qiren wasn’t allowed to draw Wen Ruohan’s ire, even if it meant complying with his instructions as if Wen Ruohan were an elder of his own sect; moreover, refusing now would probably be impolitic, especially given the other man’s misinterpretation of his earlier avoidance. In short, despite his best efforts, Lan Qiren had clearly stumbled into a social trap of what he assumed must be his own making. It usually was, after all.

It’ll be another punishment for this, probably, he thought, resigned. He didn’t think that anyone was going to come get him out of this anytime soon, no matter what his brother had said, and he was bound to trip up and say something embarrassing sooner or later. At least there’s only this evening and then the closing ceremonies in the morning – the sooner we get home, the sooner discipline can be imposed and the entire fiasco put behind us.

“Of course, Sect Leader Wen,” he said, and belatedly noticed that some of his resignation had seeped into his voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will join you.”

Wen Ruohan chuckled again. “Most people would say that they were pleased to join me,” he remarked, turning and leading the way, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. “But you don’t lie, do you? It’s one of your rules.”

Lan Qiren felt helpless, following a few steps behind him like a small fishing boat caught in the wake of a warship. “It is one of our rules,” he agreed, since saying that he was happy to join Wen Ruohan would in fact be a lie. “I try to obey them whenever possible.”

“You’ve gotten wiser since we last met. I think I recall that last time, you said always obey the rules?”

“Wisdom comes with age.”

“Is that flattery?”

“Respect for one’s elders.” Lan Qiren paused. “Also a rule.”

“Of course,” Wen Ruohan opened the door to the study that he had been in earlier, the small library with its single table and two settings and window showing the outdoors, and swept inside. “Tell me, then, as the expert in your rules – what rule is it that allows the Lan sect to develop such skilled politicians? One would assume that lying was a prerequisite.”

He doesn’t actually care about the rules, Lan Qiren tried to remind himself, his brother’s voice echoing in his ears. And yet what else could he possibly talk about with Wen Ruohan? It was a question the other man had posed directly, and he was supposed to be obedient, or at least try to be…and he really, truly enjoyed talking about the rules.

“There’s some debate on that subject,” he temporized, but Wen Ruohan arched an eyebrow and inclined his head in an invitation for him to continue. “Some posit that the rules regarding the obligations to honor one’s elders and protect one’s family require that the benefit of the sect take priority over other obligations. Others take the view that not lying is an obligation of general good conduct, which cannot be disregarded, but that it is mitigated by other rules – do not speak frivolous words, for instance.”

“I take it that you’re in the latter camp.”

Lan Qiren was, as it happened, but he wasn’t sure he should say so. After all, it was Wen Ruohan’s ancestor who had first raised up his family and started the tradition of the clan as the sect rather than schools as it had once been, and by all accounts the process of doing so had been a bloody one – what was that if not a belief that your family takes priority over the common good?

He couldn’t say that, though.

Speak meagerly, for excess words only bring harm.

“I am,” he finally said, since Wen Ruohan was still waiting for him to respond. “It is a matter of personal opinion.”

He bit his tongue to keep himself from continuing to talk. There were at least fifteen other points of interest that had come to mind at once - the rule against lying was one of the more debated ones, and of course there were all sorts of writings on the subject of balancing worldly concerns with philosophical ideals more generally. And it was so rare for someone to actually express interest in it!

Speak meagerly, he reminded himself desperately. Meagerly! Haven’t you done enough harm already?

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said. “Come, sit.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on the sect leader’s time,” Lan Qiren protested automatically. “If you’re already expecting company…”

“Who says I am?”

Lan Qiren looked helplessly at the table. There were two place settings, as he’d briefly glimpsed earlier, and a few snacks laid out already, mostly grilled vegetables – it was perfect place for a private meeting to talk business with another sect leader, which Lan Qiren wasn’t, or else to sit and converse with an old friend, which Lan Qiren definitely wasn’t.

“The servants make it up that way preemptively,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twitched as he realized that the other man had come up behind him, standing a little too close. “They do it in all the rooms, in the event someone wishes to use it. There’s no one coming.”

For some reason, that sounded almost ominous.

Presumably just Lan Qiren’s bad social sense again. Such a display was likely nothing more than the Wen sect showing off yet again, this time in terms of their wealth and the number of servants.

And, well, if the table really had just been set out to be used, surely it would be wrong not to use it? There were rules about avoiding waste, too.

“In that case, I thank Sect Leader Wen for the honor of the invitation,” he said, and sat down properly, sweeping his sleeves back and arranging himself. That it got him a little further away from Wen Ruohan was not as much of a secondary consideration as it probably should have been. “Would you like me to serve tea?”

“I was thinking something stronger,” Wen Ruohan said, sitting down as well, and reaching for the jar already there. “Why not a toast to your family’s victory? A double victory, no less, with you taking first in music and your brother the same in riding. Most impressive.”

Lan Qiren hesitated. That was a very appropriate toast, complimentary – exactly within the boundaries of what an elder ought to say to a junior, really. And yet, at the same time…

“Sect Leader Wen,” he said uncomfortably as Wen Ruohan poured out a double helping in each bowl. It was clear liquor, not wine. “This one apologizes, but…I am not accustomed to drinking.”

“No?” Wen Ruohan was smiling, but when Lan Qiren obediently met his eyes, there seemed almost to be something dangerous about his expression.

“It’s not that I question the quality,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “It’s only – you see – alcohol is prohibited –”

It was one of the rules. Unfortunately, it was one of the more controversial ones: it was generally waived outside of the Cloud Recesses, given how often hospitality required some form of drinking, and there were still elders in the Lan sect who simply refused to obey it at all, citing its uncertain lineage.

They were not in the Cloud Recesses now.

Wen Ruohan started laughing. “Little Lan,” he said. “Are you saying you’ve never had wine before? Aren’t you sixteen already?”

Lan Qiren’s shoulders involuntarily rose to his ears. “I’ve had wine!”

But only peach blossom wine, or rose wine, served at weddings as a toast for good fortune – but he couldn’t admit to that, since that was all kid’s stuff, barely classified as alcohol. He’d never even tried Emperor’s Smile, for which Gusu was famed.

Wen Ruohan’s smirk suggested that he’d guessed the truth anyway.

“It’s only a toast,” he said instead of calling him out on it, picking up his own bowl. “Surely you wouldn’t reject my good faith?”

When it was put like that, of course, there was nothing to be done for it.

Do not draw his ire, his brother had counseled him. If he approaches you, respond gracefully and comply with his wishes until someone comes to recover you.

After all, Wen Ruohan was well known for being moody and unpredictable, for having all sorts of strange whims and no inclination to refrain from indulging himself in them. Lan Qiren had no idea why he might suddenly be inclined to desire Lan Qiren’s company, of all people, nor as to why he would insist on him drinking a toast – at most, he could only speculate that it amused Wen Ruohan to force him to do things with which he was visibly uncomfortable.

And yet, as the saying went, it was unwise to refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit. Wen Ruohan, as the host, as the elder, as the powerful, could very easily press the issue even more than he already was, escalating from an interpersonal discussion to an intersect issue.

And how could Lan Qiren explain that to his brother?

“Of course not,” Lan Qiren said, giving in and lifting the bowl. “Thank you for your toast, Sect Leader Wen.”

He put the bowl to his lips and drank.

The liquor tasted sharp in a way with which he was unfamiliar, he observed, curious despite himself at the new experience, and it burned his throat when he swallowed. The sensation was almost distinctly unpleasant, actually, and he had to force his gag reflex not to activate, tears coming to his eyes.

He wondered, briefly, why people inflicted such a thing on themselves.

And then, just as he was thinking that, the alcohol hit him all at once like a tidal wave, descending in an overwhelming crash that obliterated all his senses.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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volturiwolf · 3 years

Text

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 2)

No of Words: 5182

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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part 1

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Felix’s POV:

My days in the castle were becoming more and miserable by the minute. I couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N), she was always on my mind. When there was a mission, I would make myself forget her for a while and would focus on my job. But in times like this, when there was nothing to do in particular, I would stay in my room for hours and hours, and just wouldn’t think about anything else, but her.

It must have been about two decades or so that she left Volterra to “explore the world”, as she said. Time is pretty subjective when you’re supposed to live forever. Yet, I was mentally counting every moment she was away. I was taking mental notes of everything that was going around here, every prank Demetri and I would pull off to annoy either Jane or each other, every important event or mission we were sent to, so I could tell (Y/N) later. I smiled at the thought of her laughing along with me, and then my smile dropped when I realized she may never even come back.

Why would she? Living with the Volturi - with Aro - controlling her life, how she should have looked like, how she was expected to act in every different situation, and, on top of that, pushing her to her physical and mental limits to declare any gift besides strength, speed and tracking must have been exhausting for her. All these years.. All these years of emotional isolation must have affected her greatly.

Aro had never been the most affectionate person I’ve met. When the twins joined the Volturi, and then the Guard, he focused on them exclusively, training and mentoring them every day to develop their gifts. (Y/N) was pushed aside, a lost cause; she would never be the powerful vampire/weapon Aro hoped he acquired all these centuries ago.

He hoped that she would manage to declare a power similar to her mother - an exceptional mind-reader (and shield, as we found out centuries later) or even a new and unique power, given her father’s lineage. (Y/N) never expressed anything “unique” for Aro’s standards, but to me, she was just perfect. We were equally strong and fast - maybe she was even stronger and faster than me, and she was also an incredible tracker, like Demetri, though he could track anyone he has ever met, just by hearing their conscience.

And now, she is gone. She had left me. I caught myself quite a few times thinking what would our lives be like, had I told her how I felt - and still feel - about her. I am pretty sure that she was feeling the same, that she felt our bond, our connection. But, just like her, I never came forward; I was never true to myself, or her; I never told her that I would dedicate my immortal life to her if that meant that she would stay here with me.

And now, I pay for it. I've been drowning in misery and pain. Not physical pain, I could handle physical pain by now. Even Jane’s induced pain was nothing compared to the kind of pain I’ve been feeling ever since (Y/N) left. I felt as if I were a mortal and my heart was ripped out of my body and stepped on. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, though I didn’t actually need to breathe.

Demetri must have heard my sharp gasps for air, as my door opened widely, a terrified Demetri standing under the framework. He stared at my unwell state, and rushed to me, hugging me tightly. I left a few sobs and felt tears that couldn’t come. Demetri did not say a word for a few minutes, stroking my hair with his left hand and holding me with his right one. I held onto him as if I was holding on for dear life.

My mind was just blurry and I couldn’t think straight. Was that what it felt like, being away from your mate? I missed her dearly. All these years, I never told anyone other than Demetri about (Y/N) possibly being my mate, although I think Marcus would probably know already.

As my sobs started coming to an end, I was able to finally take deep breaths, and focus my mind on a particular spot on the floor to calm myself. Demetri cupped my face with his hands, trying to calm me down by saying a few comforting words. To outsiders, this scene may have looked strange, if not weird, but Demetri and I, being best friends for almost one millennium, had that kind of intimacy, and we both liked how open we could be to each other.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them slowly, feeling a bit calmer than I did 10 minutes ago. I needed to feel each moment of my pain; I needed to feel again what it’s like being apart from the only person I ever loved; I needed to remember every moment I was close to her, and then wasn’t.

“Are you feeling better now?” Dem asked calmly, still holding my face. I nodded slightly, and he let his hands fall on his lap. “Were you thinking about (Y/N) again?” I nodded again. I nodded again.

He frequently caught me thinking absentmindedly, or even sobbing slightly, but never a full-on breakdown. He took my quite big hands in his smaller ones, patting them condescendingly. I didn’t want to be pitied by others, but Dem never made fun of me for hurting, never made me feel less of the “evil executioner” I was known to be.

“I don’t know what it feels like, being separated from your mate, so I won’t tell you how to feel or act about it. I just want you to know that you can come to me if you feel down. It pains me to see you hurting, though I understand that her very absence has affected you greatly. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. You may not see it, but Alec, even Jane, worries about you and want you to be happy. We will all do whatever it takes to see you happy again, even if that means running after (Y/N)..”

My head jolted. I asked him if he was serious. “I’m not lying or joking, Felix. If we have to go after her and bring her back to you, we’ll do it. You’re our friend and we’re your friends. That’s what friends do.”

I couldn’t believe it! There was a chance that (Y/N) was still out there, and my friends were willing to help me find her. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the Witch Twins felt like true friends to me, and as long as I had them and Demetri, I think I could do anything in this world.

Now, we just had to talk to the twins, and see what they thought of it. I don’t know if we were even allowed to drop off all the missions and duties we had here and go search for (Y/N). I know we had to take the kings’ permission before we could do anything, and I was worried and kind of terrified with the idea of them knowing (Y/N) and I were mates, and how badly in love I was with her.

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Demetri’s POV:

It was just another day in the Volterra castle. I was wandering around, having finished my duties for the day, probably for the week as well - it all depended on the Masters’ or the Twins’ mood for a “sudden, important mission” popping up in my schedule.

I wasn’t the type of person to spend their free time in the library, like the Twins, or in my room, like Felix. I vaguely remember my human life. My family was a typical middle-class Athenian family, and we were lucky enough to own a decent piece of land for cultivation. I would spend hours working on the fields, planning possible expansions and new techniques for richer crops.

I smiled slightly at the memory; that’s basically what I mostly remembered from my mortal life before Amun found me and turned me into what I am today. Before I traveled to Egypt to live with the Egyptian coven. Before Aro found me and converted me to his coven. I didn’t know how he managed to convert me then until I found out about Chelsea’s gift.

But even then, I never actually felt the need to leave the Volturi. I had a good life here; I had great friends; easy access to human blood, thanks to Heidi; I had it easy for the price I paid serving the three Volturi kings.

My train of thought was cut short when I heard quiet sobs. I wasn’t regarded as the best tracker for nothing; based on the volume of the sobs, the surrounding atmosphere, and the tone of the voice coming out, I could easily detect that it was Felix, sobbing in his room.

I run quickly, not caring about anyone walking through the corridors. I reached his door and opened it widely, not caring to wait for a response. I saw Felix sobbing on his bed, his eyes tearless but still desperate, trying to gasp for air, although we don’t really need to breathe. I rushed to his side, hugging him tightly, letting his sobs shake through my body.

I didn’t say a thing for some time, stroking his hair with one hand and holding him with my other, trying to find the right thing to say to calm him down. He held on to me for dear life, and I felt as if he was, once again, upset for (Y/N). His sobs started slowing down and he started taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Without thinking, I cupped his face, telling him a few comforting words, watching him close his eyes, and taking one deep breath.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked him calmly, and I felt myself getting calmer as he nods slightly. I let my hands fall on my lap and asked him what I’ve been thinking about all this time. “Were you thinking about (Y/N) again?” Felix nodded, confirming my suspicions.

I caught him plenty of times not being himself - his cautious, meticulous, present self; the one who was always concentrated and focused on the present. He sobbed often these days, but never a full-on breakdown. This had me worried. I took his hands in mine and patted them, showing him that I understood what he was going through, although I, myself, never found my mate. I told him so, that I didn’t know what it was like for him to be away from his mate, but also that I would never disregard how and what he felt.

I just didn’t want him to hurt; I wanted him to know that I’ll always be there for him, whenever he needed me. And, though he may not actually believe it, Alec and Jane were also worried about him. He may have not noticed it, but I wasn’t the only one who saw that he was in pain.

Alec and Jane also saw that Felix was not his confident, straightforward self anymore, so I told them once what I suspected all along. That the absence of (Y/N) affected him way more than it affected Jane, who was (Y/N)’s best girlfriend, or even Heidi, Chelsea, and Corin, even Renata, who spent most of her time on Aro’s side, being his main bodyguard.

Without thinking clearly, I suggested that we could all go after (Y/N), find her, and bring her back to Felix. His head jolted, and looked at me in disbelief, not being sure if I was serious. I told him I was, and, at this moment, his whole demeanor changed. It was probably the first time after such a long time that I’ve seen him actually smiling, and my undead soul felt at peace at last. We now only had to inform the twins, and, probably, anyone else willing to help.

My only worry was the kings, especially Aro; he probably didn’t know about (Y/N) and Felix’s mate bond, and I don’t even know what he’ll think of it when he finds out. Now, I had other things to worry about; how to get the Twins to come with us and bring (Y/N) back to Volterra.

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“We’re in.” Jane declared decisively, Alec agreed along with a nod, standing close to his twin.

“Are you both sure about that? We don’t know if the kings will allow us to go find her. Heck, I don’t even know if I could track her. I could never track (Y/N)’s mind, like ever. We may be wandering in vain, searching for her in places she’s never been. It may take a lot of time if we ever find her.”

I wanted to be honest with them about the worst-case scenario, feeling Felix slightly squirm nearby. I turned around to face the giant. His face was a mix of pain and anger, his eyes a dark burgundy, almost black from not feeding the past few weeks. This reminded me to get him to hunt soon, whether we left Volterra or not. I turned back to the twins.

“Demetri. You know that (Y/N) is our friend, too. Alec and I would do anything to bring her back.” Jane then turned to Felix. “Whatever happens, we will all stand by your side.” Felix mumbled a small “thank you”, so quiet that only us four could barely hear, still looking down, at the floor.

“We have to go and tell them.” I announced, gulping my non-existent saliva. They all knew I was referring to the three kings, and we all knew the possibility of being denied to leave on this mission of ours.

“Let me handle this. You know they cannot deny me anything.” Jane stated and led the way towards the throne room, full of confidence and reassurance.

It was true after all that Jane and Alec, being the kings’ favourite guards, were not denied anything. (Y/N) enjoyed such privileges as well, being the continuation of Aro’s bloodline, possibly our future Queen, if the kings ever decided to step down from their royal duties.

Within a minute, Jane opened the doors to the throne room widely and stepped in, followed closely by Alec and Felix and I following nearby.

“Jane! Alec! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my two favourite children?” Aro almost chirped at the sight of the twins, not even acknowledging Felix and I’s presence.

He has always been too nice to the twins, the Volturi’s most powerful offensive weapons. My gift and Felix’s raw strength are nothing compared to Jane’s ability to inflict mental pain, or Alec’s ability to deprive one or multiple people’s senses at will.

“Masters, the four of us request your permission to leave on a mission. We don’t know how long it will take us or when we’ll come back, but I assure you we’ll be back as soon as we’re done with it.” Jane informed the kings confidently, and Aro’s brows furrowed slightly.

“What kind of a mission, dear Jane? I don’t remember giving you all a mission recently.” Aro seemed curious, as he nodded towards Jane to come closer. Jane obeyed, stepping closer to Aro and extending her hand towards him, who gladly took it into his palms.

A few minutes passed by, with Aro looking nowhere in particular, while he studied Jane’s thoughts, until he came back, and let Jane’s hand slowly out of his own ones. Felix tensed beside me; we both knew now that Aro knows about the purpose of our mission, and that he may also know about (Y/N) and Felix’s bond, as he stared at him with an evil smirk. He turned towards Marcus.

“Is it true, brother?” He asked the melancholic vampire to his right. Marcus seemed unamused, which was quite typical of him.

“Yes. They’ve been mates for quite some time.” He dragged his words.

Aro turned back to us. “And yet, (Y/N) chose to leave Volterra, to “explore the world”, away from her mate. Seems that their bond is not as strong after all.”

Felix was becoming more and more furious beside me. I could sense his distaste towards our master, as Aro invalidated their bond, and probably, him being his granddaughter’s mate. Felix confessed to me multiple times that he didn’t feel worthy of being (Y/N)’s mate; that she deserved a lot more than just an average vampire guard.

That’s why he never confessed his true feelings towards her, only looking at her from afar, and hoping that one day, she would confess her feelings first, so they could be together forever. Neither of them ever confessed, and, with (Y/N) being gone for quite some time now, Felix seemed to have regretted not telling her. Maybe they could have been together now, and he wouldn’t have his heart broken over her absence.

Aro’s voice broke my train of thought. “You have my permission to go find my granddaughter, but, before you go, you’ll have to make a plan. I cannot risk my guards leaving Volterra for too long. You’ll have to decide who will come with you, and you’ll have to be back as soon as you find her. No procrastination. You have three days to plan and make your decisions. Now, go, and make sure you bring (Y/N) back!” Aro waved his hand, showing us our way out of the throne room.

We never thought we had to make a plan to find (Y/N); we didn’t expect Aro to let us leave on such a mission, where we wouldn’t know if we’d even find (Y/N). But he did, and now we had to make a plan. We knew that it would definitely be Felix, the twins, and me, but we didn’t know if anyone else wanted to join us.

Word spread fast because, within a few hours, most of the guards were already trying to help us decide on a plan, whether they could or could not join us on the actual mission. In the end, we decided it would be just the four of us, and we only had to make a plan as to where we would go to search for (Y/N).

We left within 3 days, going down to Sicily, traveling across the sea, to Malta, where we found Renata’s family. When we asked them about (Y/N), out of fear of Jane and Alec, her uncle told us she visited them once, about 20 years ago. “She kept saying how she planned to travel the world, Europe, Asia, America, Africa.. Wherever she could go.” Luca kept saying.

We left immediately after that. We decided to continue with our plan, first traveling across Europe. It wasn’t an easy task; most of the continent was at war with the Ottomans, and the rest was divided into smaller or bigger countries, nothing stable or permanent yet. We passed through North Europe, traveling towards the South, traveling across North Africa, ending up in Egypt.

I met with Amun, almost 700 years after I left him and Egypt for Aro and Italy. He was neither pleased nor surprised. He was rather cautious and guarded due to the Twins’ and Felix’s presence. He didn’t ask me why I left him, but he did invite us to stay in Egypt for some time. We told him we were in a hurry, we had to find (Y/N).

“So, it is true then? Aro’s granddaughter abandoned him at last..”. He grinned.

“What do you mean “at last”?” Felix became upset quite quickly.

“You never realized it before? When Chelsea, (Y/N) and yourself came with Aro and took Demetri with you, I saw it in (Y/N)’s eyes.” We were all confused. Amun continued.

“She looked miserable. She probably didn’t even want to be here, doing Aro’s bidding. She wasn’t made to serve him and his every wish. She indeed passed by a decade or two ago. She apologized for her part in Demetri’s departure, and she stayed with us for about a month or two. I welcomed her because I understood Aro destroyed her life, just as he destroyed ours.”

“What did she want in Egypt?” Felix was becoming more anxious by the minute.

Amun continued his narration. “She wanted to learn about Egypt, the Pyramids, the Pharaohs. She told me she read a lot about Ancient Egypt; how Alexander the Great colonized Egypt and many Greeks have been living here ever since; how the Great Pyramids were built. She just wanted to see all the history from up close. She wanted to experience everything. Who wouldn’t, right?” He grinned again, like the proud Egyptian he was, having seen all of Egypt’s glory through the past millennia.

It was Jane’s time to ask the questions. “So, she just visited? She didn’t say where she was going after she left?”

“She said she wanted to go and visit places. Though, she didn’t say where she would go. I would tell you if I knew.” Amun looked arrogant but cautious. He wouldn’t risk getting on Jane’s bad side, so he chose to tell the truth about (Y/N).

“We won’t be staying then. Let’s go.” Jane ordered and ran out of Amun’s palace, Alec following closely behind her.

Felix stayed behind, and I stopped in my tracks. “If you have her and you lied to us, I swear I will rip you apart with my own hands!” Felix pointed at Amun while threatening him.

Amun didn’t seem to be phased at all. “Believe me, I wouldn’t want to get on Aro’s bad side. I already lost someone important to me.” He looked straight at me, and then back to Felix. “But, if you want to find her, you may want to find Carlisle first. She admired him, for choosing to be more human than vampire. When he visited me last time, he did mention how (Y/N) was the only Volturi that didn’t really seem to actually belong in the Volturi. She was too kind for her own good.”

Felix's jaw clenched, and I grabbed him before he managed to attack Amun. I mumbled a “thank you” to Amun, and we ran to find the Twins. My tracking skills could sense Carlisle from a distance, so it wouldn’t be hard to find him. Finding (Y/N), though, was a totally different story.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I woke up with a throbbing headache in an unknown place. My eyes couldn’t focus on anything in particular around me. I could barely distinguish the wooden furniture around me, and the burning fire in the fireplace. My hand traversed through woolen fabrics of different textures. Was I in bed? Was I in a bedroom? As my senses started to go back to normal, I started hearing people talking, a woman and man talking..in Greek?

“Αλέξανδρε, η (Ο/Σ) γύρισε! Το κοριτσάκι μας γύρισε επιτέλους!” (“Alexander, (Y/N) is back! Our little girl is finally back!”)

“Το ξέρω, Στέλλα. Πρέπει να την προστατεύσουμε, να την κρατήσουμε κοντά μας. Δε γίνεται να γυρίσει πίσω στη Βολτέρρα.” (“I know, Stella. We have to protect her, to keep her close to us. She cannot go back to Volterra.”)

“Τι θα κάνουμε αν την ψάξει ο Άρο ή κάποιος άλλος από τη φρουρά; Το ξέρουμε και οι δυο ότι, όπου και να είναι, θα κινδυνεύει.” (“What are we going to do if Aro or someone else from the Guard is looking for her? We both know that, wherever she is, she will be in danger.”)

“Το μόνο που μπορούμε να κάνουμε είναι να φροντίσουμε να την προετοιμάσουμε κατάλληλα. Πρέπει να μάθει το πραγματικό μέγεθος της δύναμής της. Ένιωθα τη δύναμη που είναι συσσωρευμένη μέσα της. Μπορεί να κάνει πραγματικά σπουδαία πράγματα, αρκεί να μάθει να ελέγχει τον εαυτό της και τις δυνάμεις της.” (“The only thing we can do is to make sure she is prepared accordingly. She has to learn the true extent of her power. I felt the power built up inside her. She can do amazing things, as long as she learns to control herself and her powers.”)

I was confused. My parents.. I found my parents. I faintly remember when I met them in the woods. I looked down at my body. I did not wear my white gown anymore, the one which I had once cut below the knee, so I could run around freely. I was now wearing a red dress, the vest covered in gold details. The vest’s sleeves went down, just a few centimeters above my wrists. The dress was made of silk, and it felt nice against my skin; I was finally wearing new, clean clothes and it felt nice.

I jumped out of the bed, and the dress flew around me, falling gently just above my ankles. There was a tearing to the side, which I thought was a nice detail, so I could actually run. I ran at a vampire speed towards the door and out of the room. I saw my parents talking in the living room, in front of the fireplace where another fire was burning bright and warmed up the room.

“Για τι πράγμα μιλούσατε; Σας άκουγα. Γιατί να έρθουν για μένα; Τι πρέπει να μάθω;” (“What were you talking about? I heard you. Why would they come for me? What do I have to learn?”)

My mother cupped my face affectionately. “Ψυχούλα μου, το ξέρεις ότι ο Άρο θα σε αναζητήσει. Θα κάνουμε τα πάντα για να σε προστατέψουμε, αλλά πρέπει να μάθεις να πολεμάς για τον εαυτό σου. Ήρθε η ώρα να μάθεις για τις πραγματικές σου δυνατότητες. Ο μπαμπάς σου θα σου μάθει ό,τι χρειάζεται να μάθεις για να εξασκήσεις τη μαγεία σου.” (“My little soul, you know that Aro will look for you. We’ll do everything to protect you, but you’ll have to learn to fight for yourself. It’s time to learn about your true capabilities. Your dad will teach you whatever you need to know to practice your magic.”)

“Now, follow us, (Y/N). I will teach you everything I know.” Dad took one of my hands in his and mom took my other hand in hers, and they led me outside, to the garden.

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In the months that followed, I learned how to defend myself using my powers; how to cast spells; how to attack; I even learned how to use dark magic. And as time passed and I perfected my magic, the more magic and energy I could pump out of me, and the more I felt drawn to dark magic. It gave me an unexplainable power; a confidence that I could define my own life; a confidence that I could free myself from Aro.

My only concerns were my friends and Felix; though I was quite powerful by now, the only thing that kept me behind, trapped between what I have to do for myself and what I have to do for others, was the thought of Felix. I have already lost so much time being away from him, and sometimes, that was translated to physical pain, which I didn’t know could happen between mates. I assumed that it was the same for him as well, and I didn’t want him to be in pain.

Unlike the other vampires, I could cry, heck, I would cry for hours and hours. And that pain, that emptiness, would eventually feed the darkness in me. I couldn’t see it at first, but I started having darker, evil thoughts. I stopped feeding off of animals and started killing people. I killed people for their blood, or for fun - either way, I would still consume their blood. I was feeding my thirst and my darkness, becoming insensitive and slowly mad for revenge.

My parents wouldn’t say anything; I knew that it was part of their plan to get revenge on Aro. Unbeknownst to my mom, I also managed to copy her mind-reading, and having already copied Aro’s power, I could manage to know everything both of my parents have ever thought about. My magic penetrated her shield quite easily, and I managed to learn everything I needed to know about their plan, their lives, their abilities, and magic.

I was now way more powerful than them. I didn’t need them; they needed me - they needed me to take over Volterra. It all started as a need to take over territory and become powerful; powerful enough that they could challenge the Volturi and cease their powers, possibly manage to take me and any other powerful guard they found under their rule.

However, me finding them made their plan way easier - they knew that they could persuade me to do their bidding and join them. I was their daughter after all; we were family, and, although they didn’t raise me, they knew that I would much rather stay with them than Aro, given his past.

I didn’t oppose their plan; I wasn’t fond of it, but I didn’t mind. It could be a way to be finally recognized and appreciated. I could finally become the princess, officially, and I could take my friends and Felix away from Aro. We would be together; we wouldn’t be scared of what Aro may think of us; we would be finally free.

These thoughts pushed me day after day to push myself and my limits more. I had to become as powerful as I could ever be. The darkness was consuming my soul and I was welcoming it; I wanted to be in power; I wanted to be in control. I visualized the darkness surrounding me and consuming me; a black smoke swinging out of my body, surrounding me, and swirling around me. I could feel my eyes stink and I smelled the blood that was now oozing out of them. I felt my insides twist and turn, and I screamed in pain; my feet not being able to support my body anymore, as I fell down on my knees.

I felt the darkness “painting” my soul and turning it into a long abyss. I felt my humanity being stripped away from me, like a hand reaching out and ripping my heart out of my body and slowly crashing it. And then, it all stopped. I raised my head and looked at the world around me in a different light. The world was darker, meaner; everyone was my enemy. I would not let anyone subjugate me again; I would not be a victim anymore. I would take my revenge on the Volturi, I would make them pay.

#felix volturi #felix volturi imagine #felix volturi x reader #volturi #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight post #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #the cullens #the denali coven

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dumpsiteforfics · 3 years

Text

Missing Piece

Fandom : Criminal minds

Pairing : Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Genre : angst and fluff probably? At least happy ending lmao!

Warnings : 16 years age difference, but both are well above legal age. Just heads-up, it references all our important Hotch reid moments from seasons 1 to 3.

This is just a oneshot? Or drabble probably which I wanted to write after reading this prompt! The section which is in bold and italics is copied as it as from prompt!!

******†******

"I love you Aaron, and I want to be with you!!"

Those were the words Aaron never thought he would hear, not from this person that he was so in love with! Spencer Reid was epitome of everything Aaron ever wanted from his life, and everything he never thought he deserved to have! He can't pinpoint the exact moment it all started, but he can remember the exact moment he realised he had fallen for the younger man.

It was in that grave all those years ago, when he was helping Spencer get up after shooting Tobias Hankel, a name he would never forget! He had never been this scared for someone else's life before, and that's saying something because with the job he had, there were so many lives he saved on a routine basis. But he could still remember in detail how his chest felt like someone had put bricks on it, how his brain was in constant thoughts of what if they lose their agent, what if they lose Spencer? Their youngest agent, he was so young!! And he was in the hands of a psychopath and he had still fought the mad man, despite being beaten, being kidnapped and tortured at some remote location away from any help, he somehow fought back and used his brain to get help.

And when Aaron pulled Spencer up and into his arms, he felt like his missing piece was found. That hug lasted just for a few seconds but Aaron felt eternal gratitude in those moments. And then Spencer gasped out, I knew you would understand!!

And Aaron still wakes up from nightmares where he somehow fails to understand Spencer's clue and that results in the horrific death of the younger man. And Aaron lays awake, gasping and shuddering, struggling to calm himself and trying hard not to dial Spencer's number just to confirm that he is indeed alive.

And then Chester Hardwick came and he had the audacity to threaten Spencer in front of him, and Aaron would never let anyone get away with that. And he was so ready to kill Hardwick with his bare hands but Spencer, yet again saved them.

Just like all those years ago when he killed Philip Dowd and saved Aaron, like how he killed Tobias and saved Aaron, he yet again saved Aaron again this time by making use of his sharp tongue and unstoppable brain.

And the words that Aaron never wanted to let out, poured out of his mouth as he admitted his relationship problems to Spencer.

What I want, I'm never going to get!!

But now, Spencer is standing in front of him, they have just wrapped up the bombing case and he had said goodbye to Kate with a heavy heart, just one more person he lost to this job.

He came back home to find Spencer waiting for him. Aaron was worried to see Spencer with this Haunted look in his eyes. They went inside and before he could ask him anything Spencer was spilling out his every feeling.

He had never seen Spencer like this, so desperate, so needy, so fiercely wanting… And all Aaron wants is to pull the younger man in his arms and just escape from the reality that's keeping them apart! But he can't. No matter what they want, they have to think carefully. Spencer, even with his gifted IQ and old soul, is still just so much younger than him. 16 years. That's too many years in between, probably a generation gap you can call even.

And Aaron is thinking about those predators they hunt, those who prey on younglings. Was he one of those? Was he attracted to Spencer's pretty face and young age? No! He was attracted to Spencer's heart, the heart that never stopped giving despite never receiving much love, he was attracted to Spencer's courage that made the man so much more admirable than he already was, he was attracted to Spencer's mind, too beautiful despite the fractures it might bore in future, he was attracted to Spencer's soul, kindest despite the horrors he sees everyday.

But he should try to lay all the cards down, he is old , he is just a boring agent who has trouble expressing his emotions! He is an agent who is more dedicated to his job and all the unknown faces who need saving than his own family. He is a man who will never think twice before jumping into fire if it meant he could save someone's life. And he tries to portray it through words!

Spencer is just listening, his heart so easily readable through those hazel eyes and Aaron has to keep looking somewhere else to continue talking.

"Spencer, I appreciate your feelings, and I do return them! God! I have been returning them probably even before I realised I had feelings for you. But, we can't be together. We are too different, you are too young and I'm just too old. You have this life waiting for you whereas I have already been through my half. I don't want to tie you down to me when you have so much more to live for. So much time which I might even not have. The thing about time is, the older you get, the faster it goes,” he said. “Tomorrow, you will be my age, and I will be dead.”

And Spencer looks up in Aaron's eyes, understanding everything words could never explain.

"But Aaron, I don't even have you to lose. You are just so out of my reach despite the efforts I take to be closer! I don't care about your age Aaron, I don't care how short or long life we might have unless it's together! I yearn for you Aaron! Do you even know how much?"

"And you are talking about dying when we both know we have probably equal chances of dying tomorrow with the job we have. We understand each other Aaron, there is this deep understanding which stems from never-ending trust that we have on each other. I gave you a clue even when I was delirious from drugs and wasn't even sure you'll be listening, and you understood it Aaron. And you think we should just let go of this beautiful bond because of something as trivial as age gap? I would've understood it if I was underage or just barely 20, but Aaron I'm in my thirties and I'm yet to find a person who came as close to understanding me as you do!"

Spencer is all but sniffing now, and Aaron's heart breaks all over again.

"I don't give a shit about the reasons why we should not be together Aaron, I only care about one reason why we should be! And that's, I love you as much as you love me back! And that should be enough! For once, let that be enough reason Aaron, let us be enough for each other!! "

And Aaron couldn't stop his heart from skipping a beat. Let us be enough for each other! Wasn't that what Aaron wanted his entire life? To be enough for someone? And he is maybe getting it now, and what does he have to lose anyways?

He took a shuddering breath before saying, "Well I have given you enough chances to back out of it, now you don't get more chances. You are going to have to be in my life, as my whole heart till the day I die."

And then the wide smile he got in response made his heart almost stop but he decided if he could die now, at least he'll die happy.

Before he could spend more time muling over those unnecessary thoughts Spencer pulled him in a hug, his arms going around Aaron's shoulder as Aaron's own looped around his waist. And there was that feeling again, like he found his missing piece!!!

#heid #hotchreid #hotch x reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #criminal minds #my fic #angst #sorry for all grammatical mistakes #i literally wrote it on my mobile in an hour #and english isn't ny first language

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