#i am like a cat i will literally curl up in a spot of sunlight and nap | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

A Game of Cat and Mouse ||Demetri Volturi x Witch!Reader||

Warnings: Some swearing towards the end and angst

Words: 4939

Taglist: @thelastemzy @volturidoll13 @raindancer2004 @ferb13 @alecvolturiswifeforever @college-is-coming @a-avaunce @broskibowser @perfectcolortreestudent @royalvolturisblog @kpopgirlbtssvt @vamp-army

Summary:

Part 1:A Little Magic

Part 3: A Book and A Bargain

Part 4: A Moment Made For Us

Part 5: A Spindle Prick

Part 6: A Witch’s Wrath

Part 7: A Revelation

Part 8: A Message In A Bottle

After being cast out by the Grand Magister a game of survival ensues, one pitting tracker against witch in a race to reach each other.

Standing atop the stairs that led to your crafting room, you felt your heart hang heavy in your chest. For once, Castor remained quiet as you both stared down into the warm, welcoming room where so much magic had taken place. The crafting room was a safe haven, a place where you no longer had to pretend to be normal and could let the full scope of your power run free. It was a place you could create, manifest, morph, divinate and more. It was in the crafting room your bond with Castor had been cemented when you performed your very first spell together.

It was time to close the door.

“I can do it, if you prefer.” Castor said quietly. With a deep breath, you shook your head.

“It needs to be me.” you said, reaching for the handle and pulling the door closed. Castor sat on his back legs, his front paws clutching the drawstring pouch he had packed. You were both ready to leave, your home no longer surrounded by the protective charms and spells that had once kept it safe and off the radar. Placing your palm flat against the wooden door, you closed your eyes, feeling the magic behind it. With a whispered incantation, you pulled away and turned your back on the room, not wanting to feel it collapse in on itself. It would be destroyed within the hour and nothing but an ordinary cupboard under the stairs would remain in its place. Castor’s feet thumped the floor as he waddled towards your backpack, putting his drawstring pouch inside first and hopping in second. He turned in a circle once or twice before he had trampled down enough of your clothes he could sit comfortably, head poking out of the top of your backpack. You zipped it up just enough it would keep him secure but left him enough room to poke his head through the gap whenever he so wanted.

For a moment, his paw lingered on your own hand, but before you could scratch his ears to offer some comfort his nose twitched, lips curling back over sharp little teeth as he hissed.

“He’s here.”

The backpack was slightly heavy on your shoulders but once it was in place you turned towards the living room archway and lifted your hand, gathering as much of the energy in the room into your palm as you could while your brain scrambled to think of somewhere you knew well, a place that wasn’t a sacred space you were no longer allowed in or involved another witch who would not be able to shelter you. The ripping sound as you tore a hole in reality was loud, enough to alarm the tracker you could sense now just outside your door. He burst in without hesitation.

Your head snapped to the left, your eyes meeting the enthralling red irises of this mysterious vampire. He stood tall, his chin lifting and expression shifting to one of concern as he took in the sight of your backpack on your back. Then he saw the portal before you, a shimmering city bathed in sunlight sitting right in your living room archway, your sofa and TV just beyond it like there wasn’t a whole other world between you and them.

“Wait!”

“Never!” you snapped. The hostility in your voice seemed to startle him, freezing him long enough for you to leap through the portal and shut it behind you. The sunlight was warm against your skin, a light breeze caressing your face. Wheat swished against your legs and you heaved a sigh as you glanced about the field you had landed in. It was definitely not the exact spot you had intended on landing, but you were ashamedly rather distracted by the handsome vampire until you saw him start reaching for you. Something about his aura was welcoming, even if it was freezing cold, but your job now was to run, to protect your secret for as long as you were able. He could never be allowed to get you.

“Well, at least we won’t run out of bread here.” Castor snarked. Eyes rolling skyward, you puffed out your cheeks and counted to ten, electing to ignore the haughty little racoon in your backpack and begin your trek through the wheat towards what you hoped would be civilisation. Castor wasn’t the only one confused by your whereabouts either.

“Who are you?” Demetri murmured to the space where you once stood. He remained in your house, alone and really feeling lonely for the first time in forever. His single status had never bothered him before, his off and on again relationships not fulfilling perhaps but certainly satiating him to a degree that left him content with his bachelor status. Then you came along, quite literally blowing him away. Demetri had never cared before but now he was desperate to know you, because he wouldn’t get another chance. There was no more time to be a bachelor, no amount of casual sex or fun, one time dates he could while away an evening with, that would ever replace you. Your presence was meant to be permanent fixture in his life yet you’d disappeared right in front of him.

A quick search of the house found it entirely bare, no clothes in the wardrobe and no food in the cupboards. Wherever you had gone to you clearly had no intention of coming back. Demetri frowned, slowly making his way back to the living room archway you had disappeared through. How? How was it possible? There had been some sort of field beyond, one with bright sunshine he could most certainly not follow you into, and yet now…the archway was empty. There was no shimmering green ring around a sunlight field, just the empty living room beyond. He could imagine you curled up on the sofa before the TV, cosied up in a blanket perhaps, maybe reading one of the books you had taken that had left behind gaps on your bookshelf. Did you like to read? It seemed a trivial question now, but he longed to ask you yourself…when he found you again, that is.

Demetri inhaled deeply. The house was saturated with your scent and he committed it to memory willingly. Your natural smell was warm and inviting, something like sandalwood and lavender, all comforting smells he could indulge in all day. It wasn’t your scent he needed though. He focused more on the beautiful, soft features of your face – even if they had been contorted in sheer disgust at the sight of him. He focused on the melodic notes of your voice – even if you had been snarling in contempt. He focused on the only tenor in his repertoire that thrummed and pulsed in a way so unlike the others. Human tenors were distinguishable for their rope like quality, easily frayed and broken as human beings were themselves. Vampire tenors were sturdier, like a length of reinforced cable that was colder to the touch and far more durable. Yours…yours was some strange mix of both, not delicate but also not immortal. It thrummed with power, a low-level vibration that buzzed through him anytime he caught hold of it.

How on earth had you gotten to France?

He blinked, searching for your tenor and following it a second time just to be sure, but still he got the same answer, the very essence of France coming through it. Demetri was not startled by much but his phone ringing in the silence made him tense, every muscle going rigid before he fished it from his pocket with a huff.

“You never called to say you landed.”

“Forgive me, mother, I was busy.” He answered wryly.

“I worry.” Felix retorted. Demetri could almost hear the pout in his voice and despite the situation at hand, he cracked a smile.

“Fear not darling, I shall be home before you gave chance to miss me too much.” He assured him, placing a hand on his hip. There was a strange churning sound coming from his left and Demetri stared at the wood with a frown. He could feel the energy behind it to, something radiating power coming from the cupboard under the stairs. It was a similar feeling like the one he got when he ran too close to Chernobyl that one time – post 1986 of course.

“Home with your charming mate I hope.” Felix hinted. He sighed, turning to face the cupboard and running his hand over the wood. He could feel his palm vibrating slightly and slid his hands towards the latch to investigate.

“There were…complications.” He answered. Once the latch was free it began to rattle slightly against the wood, and with no warning whatsoever the door burst open and drowned out anything Felix had replied with. Demetri grunted as he was smacked full force in the chest by a tidal wave of soil. It gushed from the open doorway like a tsunami and he tumbled back into the living room before he could regain his balance. When the rumbling and gushing stopped, he was flat on his back and covered in soil, blinking dirt from his eyes so he could stare at the ceiling. Dumbfounded didn’t even begin to describe how he was feeling in that moment as Felix’s voice came through his phone, buried somewhere in the earth he was surrounded by.

As he sat up, dirt rained down around him, but it didn’t take him long to find his phone. The gritty taste of soil in his mouth made him growl as he sputtered to rid himself of it.

“Demetri? Demetri are you there?” Felix demanded. Grimacing slightly, Demetri huffed.

“I am, there was a…” he cast his eye to the mountain of dirt that sat between him and the very ordinary looking cupboard. He could see a shelf of cleaning products atop it. How had she managed that?

“A what?” Felix pressed. How was he supposed to explain to Felix he’d been knocked off of his feet by dirt? Simple. He wouldn’t.

“A complication! I need to find her again!” he snapped. Demetri hung up before Felix could question him further. He was still brushing dirt off of himself when he arrived at the airport for a late-night flight to France. You were still travelling west towards La Rochelle and once he had managed to rent a car it was no trouble at all to come after you. He only had to pause to eat and that didn’t take him long, not if he wasn’t playing with his food. It took him only a day to catch up to you but the sun was still shining brilliantly when he did, forcing him to stay in the car at the roadside and watch from afar as you had a picnic with a…racoon? You were ethereal. The sun was reflected beautifully in your Y/H/C hair, your skin glowing in the sun in an oh so tempting way until venom was pooled in his mouth, forcing him to swallow it down. As if you had felt his eyes on you your head turned, and you stared right at him for a moment.

He was sure you couldn’t actually see him given the distance, but in the blink of an eye your raccoon had scampered to your side and you were on your feet, flipping him your middle finger as the picnic blanket and the contents spread on it began to twist like a tornado. It curved graciously and disappeared into your backpack like it had never been out in the first place. The raccoon jumped in next while you opened another shimmering hole. Demetri’s eyes flitted left and right in a panic, and when he was sure there were no cars coming or humans about, he launched himself out of the car towards you.

“Leave me alone!” you yelled. His fingertips graced the edges of the hole once more, something he could only assume was some sort of window perhaps, as it snapped closed. He let loose a hiss of frustration, lashing out at the air that had once held a window to a place with snow-capped mountains. He had lost you again.

He lost you when he finally made it to Alaska.

He couldn’t get close to you in Madrid either.

He was close to you in the bazaar’s of Egypt before you burned a stall so badly he almost set ablaze and was forced to retreat. Then he lost you again.

His fingertips just about grazed your backpack in Mexico before you hopped through another of those windows.

He finally, finally grasped your arm for the first time in Atlanta, and you blew him backwards without a second glance before disappearing again.

Every phone call back to Volterra was getting more and more painful. The Masters were impatient and Demetri had no answers despite months of chasing you about. He couldn't safely say what your gift was to appease Aro, or that you weren’t dangerous to Caius, nor could he tell any of his friends that he was any closer to securing his mate. Misery wasn’t even close to the way the pit in his stomach felt. The chasm there grew wider every time he failed to catch you. He couldn’t bring himself to run after you, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop either. You were the one who could fix the broken parts of his soul, the shattered pieces of him that had began to grow numb without you. The mate pull was strong, your tenor all but throbbing these days in an effort to drag you to him. Of all the places for you to end up he really hadn’t expected to find you back at your old house.

He stood on the porch, palm pressed flat to the plastic doorframe. Demetri couldn’t bring himself to move for a little while, his eyes closed as he strained his ears to try and listen inside. He was sure you were in there, it was where your tenor led after all, but there was no sound at all from inside, not even your heartbeat. You had to be here, you just had to! The door swung open without warning.

“Do you plan on standing outside our door for the rest of the night or will you barge in like last time?” the haughty voice came from no one he could see, at least, not until he glanced downwards. The racoon he had seen you with so often was stood on his hind legs, front paws folded over his chest and his sharp little teeth bared in what might have been a sneer. Demetri could only stare at him for a moment, sure he was going mad. Had he really spent so long suffering this separation anxiety that he was finally going round the bend? Losing his marbles and imagining talking animals was a sure sign he should probably go home, right?

“Odd…animals usually scatter.” He murmured. His eyes widened when the racoon rolled his eyes, paws uncrossing and moving to his hips.

“I am no animal. Do you see me scavenging in the bins? Y/N! He’s here! And he’s rude!” the racoon called over his shoulder, dropping to all fours to scamper from the doorway. Demetri couldn’t quite keep the shock off of his face as you appeared at the end of the corridor from him. You looked so tired, exhausted even, skin a little pale and eyes heavy with sorrow. Clearly the time spent apart had affected you as much as it had him. He tried to straighten his spine, carry himself with strength and purpose, but it had all been sapped from him little by little whenever he had been forced to let you go. With a quiet sigh, you inclined your head in an invitation to follow you, and Demetri stepped over the threshold with a quiet gulp. He felt like a schoolboy with a crush, his nerves fluttering in his stomach.

He glanced about as he walked down the corridor, noting that the books were not back on the shelf again but there was a blanket on the sofa, a half-open book laying beside it. Crockery had been piled up, the scents of something spicy and earthy mixing in the air of the kitchen. You sat at the table with a mostly eaten bowl of what appeared to be curry in front of you, your fork lifting another load of vegetables and rice coated in sauce towards your mouth. He heard every bite of course but quickly tuned out the repetitive crunch of your chewing, standing awkwardly in the doorway as he took in the rustic feel of your kitchen in an otherwise modern house. Lots of natural wood on the countertops and kitchen island, making up the seat of the bar stools placed around and the cupboards that lined the walls. Terracotta tile lined the floor. It all looked so normal, but you were far from that.

“You keep odd pets.” He said finally, desperate to chase away the silence plaguing him. There was nothing but the eerie quiet until you finished the last few bites, moving your bowl to the sink and filling it with water before you set it on the side near the other washing up to be done. For a moment, you simply gripped the edge of the countertop and leaned over the sink. You didn’t look at him, nor speak to him, but your heart was thumping loudly in his ears and he could feel such tangible energy radiating from you it took all his willpower not to go to you. It would be as natural and as instinctual as breathing, to wrap his arms around your waist and breathe in your scent.

“Castor isn’t my pet.” Your answer was quiet yet so deafeningly loud when it shattered the silence. Demetri wasn’t sure what to say and he hated it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! It wasn’t supposed to be so stilted and awkward. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to land on a topic of conversation that seemed safe, but nothing came to mind. With a heavy sigh, you finally turned to face him and clicked your fingers. His head snapped towards the kettle when it began to boil without you touching it, his eyes widening slightly. A teacup flew right past his head, hovering before a box of tea leaves before a pinch of the leaves hopped obediently into the cup like a rabbit.

“What the…” he breathed, eyes snapping back towards you. You were watching him carefully, evaluating his reaction. Demetri quickly snapped his jaw closed and wiped his face of any and all emotion, but he was sure you had seen it all anyway.

“Sit. I think we need to talk.” You pointed to the chair opposite you and it pulled out for him. Warily, he approached to settle himself on the barstool opposite you, his spine stiff and the leather of his jacket squeaking as it was forced to bend at the elbows, his hands resting neatly on the wooden surface of the island you sat at. A freshly brewed cup of tea moved in front of you, the water not so much as rippling as it set itself down. You immediately curled your hands around it, the sleeves of your jumper half-covering your hands. Cosy, they like cosy he thought absent-mindedly.

“Y/N! The signal’s gone again!” that same voice, the racoon. Demetri couldn’t help but slouch now, holding his head in his hands as he tried to make something make sense. Your pet racoon (an odd choice in itself) could talk, you could apparently move things with your mind, and teleport from place to place, and set things on fire, and now…now…

“Of course its gone! We don’t technically live here anymore remember?” you called back with an irritated eye roll.

“Well how am I supposed to watch Judge Judy?” the racoon - Castor, he reminded himself – whined.

“Go on the roof and fix the aerial then, I’m busy!” the irritation in your tone was obvious and he fell silent at that. Demetri lifted his head, looking at you honestly and openly for the first time since you met. He was confused, and desperate, and the one thing he wanted more than anything else right now was you. Your life story, your deepest fears, your passions, he wanted everything you were willing to give. None of the dizzying nonsense he was faced with.

“I have to understand,” he pleaded, “I have to understand you, please. Please, help me, understand you.” For a second, your eyes flashed. Regret, indignation, anger, defeat, hopelessness. Then your shoulders sagged, and your gaze turned to the depths of your teacup, watching the steam dance and dissipate.

“I can’t really help you. I don’t understand me either.” You answered. Demetri’s frown deepened, his desperation swelling into anger that he couldn’t suppress.

“No. No you do not get to sit there after this futile game of chase and-“

“Futile?” you snapped your eyes to him again.

“Was it not? I found you anyway. We are where we were always destined to end up.” He pointed out, lifting a hand to gesture between you both across the table from each other. He pressed his palms into the surface of the island, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath.

“Nothing in this life is inevitable.” Your voice was cold as an arctic wind. Demetri counted to ten before he opened his eyes to try again.

“What did you mean? What do you not understand? Your gift?” he questioned. A mirthless laugh escaped you, your smile entirely false as you appraised him with so much condescension and loathing in your stare it made his heart sink. You hated him. You hated him and you had no idea how much that killed him inside.

“My gift? My power. Whatever your aim was in coming here you won’t confuse me, tempt me away with you like I’m some simple, gifted child that needs a tutor. I know and understand what I am fully. I have honed my craft and my identity for 260 years and then you come along-“ you inhaled sharply, looking at your teacup once more before blowing on it once and downing it in one quick gulp. You hadn’t drained it all, and the remainder of the water was swirled from left to right three times over before a saucer appeared in front of you, and you slowly began to invert the cup. Demetri realised he had lost your attention as you slowly completed this ritual, and only when your cup was sitting upside down on the saucer did you move your eyes back to him.

“Your craft?” he asked finally.

“Yes, my craft. Witchcraft, to be precise.” You huffed. Demetri could only stare at you, dumbfounded by the answer. Witchcraft? Witches didn’t exist he was sure, and yet…werewolves had, vampires did, and the things you could do had to come from somewhere. Nobody in the world he knew of had more than one gift. And 260 years? You were barely a day over twenty surely! The youthful glow of your skin, the speed and agility you possessed…you could not have been older than 25 he was sure.

"How do you-"

"Sh." you rotated the upside-down teacup three times and flipped it upright once more, pointing the handle due south if he had guessed correctly. With a flick of your wrist the saucer full of remaining tea moved to the washing up pile and you leaned over the cup to stare at the contents within. Demetri didn’t want to admit to you just how sceptical he was, but he had seen plenty of people ‘tell the future’ with tea leaves, and not a single one of them had ever been right in his experience.

“You do not need to divine how this conversation-“

“It’s not this conversation I want to know about,” you said sharply, casting him an irritated glare before moving the cup towards him, “I asked for what might happen to us now. The rim is the near future and the dog symbolises faithful friends.”

“So you may yet grow to like me, wonderful.” He murmured with a sigh.

“Or it could mean Castor. I very much like him.” you returned. Demetri shot you an exasperated look.

“Fine, if that is the near future than what about the future further away?” he questioned, unable to fight his rising curiosity and not wanting to start an argument with you again when you finally seemed to be open to talking to him. Your finger pointed to a line of tea leaves that looked indistinguishable from the rest to him.

“In the middle of the cup, the horse’s mane. There will be a prosperous journey where desires will be fulfilled.” You informed him. Demetri raised an eyebrow. You would have to come back to Volterra with him at some point surely? If he could win your favour you would eventually move in with him since he couldn’t just quit the guard, didn’t want to either. Did it mean that? The prospect gave him more hope than he dared to admit.

“Where will this journey lead to?” he asked.

“It doesn’t work that way. This is divination, not a bullet point plan.” You reprimanded. Demetri had been so lost in your teacup he startled when the racoon jumped up beside him, a snicker escaping the little bastard. He fought the urge to swat at him, knowing it wouldn’t help him win you over if he tried to assault your friend. Your racoon friend…who could talk…good lord what had he gotten himself into?

“Fine, so we have one ambiguous teacup telling us our future holds faithful friends and a prosperous journey, but we do not know who these friends are or where this journey will take us, so we are no further forward than we were when we started.” Demetri pointed out, folding his arms over his chest. Your eyebrows rose.

“There happens to be a serpent’s fork tongued in the bottom of the cup, in the distant future.” You said, your tone ominously dark now. The racoon stiffened a bit, hopping forward to peer inside, nose twitching at the pungent smell of tea leaves. Demetri could sympathise with the thing on that account at least.

“And?” he prompted.

“Serpents signify spiteful enemies,” Castor sniffed, sitting on his hind legs again and scratching at his head. “Distant is good though, we can plan for distant.”

“Forgive me but how is that racoon talking?” Demetri demanded, slowly losing his mind with every word that slipped from his mouth.

“That racoon? That racoon! Does he want to test whose teeth are sharper? I have a name you loathsome little leech!” he squeaked indignantly.

Demetri hissed slightly. “Then have it engraved on a collar.”

“Oh you – take that – the impertinence!” he could barely squeeze out a sentence, hissing and squeaking in between words as his lips trembled in a snarl, beady little eyes narrowed in the most vicious glare Demetri had ever seen on a racoon. If his skin wasn’t as impenetrable as it was he would actually be afraid of the feral little shit.

“Enough!” you cried, “Castor happens to be my familiar and you will treat him with the respect he deserves while you’re in my house and you! You stop antagonising him!” Demetri looked at you incredulously, Castor giving another annoyed little squeak before he scurried away, grumbling about rude vampires and ungrateful witches. Dropping your head in your hands you took a few deep breaths, and Demetri finally saw just how exhausted you were for the first time that night. He had been getting closer every time he tracked you, a brush of his fingers on your backpack and his hand actually around your arm once, but he had never once caught you until now. He was starting to suspect it wasn’t by accident either.

“Y/N…why now?” Demetri asked quietly. His eyes searched your face, but you didn’t dare meet his gaze, head hung low and fingers tightening in the roots of your hair.

“Because I am so tired of running from you. I am so, so tired…and I have nothing else,” you looked up, eyes swimming with emotions he couldn’t quite define just yet, “I have no final destination. Not even this house is mine anymore so tell my why exactly should I keep running? What am I running towards? Where do I run to?” Demetri stared you down, unsure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, knew that he wanted to tell you you had been running from fate all along, from the very future your teacup told you you could have with prosperity and faithful relationships abundant. He sensed you weren’t ready for that yet, he had barely managed one civil conversation with you.

“Y/N, the signals back but Judge Judy’s finished! Can we get back deleted recordings from the box?” Castor yelled through. Y/N glanced briefly at the living room and shook her head. He had the most uncanny habit of interrupting for the most unimportant things at the most important moments.

“Stay, or don’t. Just don’t kill my familiar, or anyone else for that matter.” You said. With that, you left him in the kitchen trying to digest exactly what he had seen and heard that evening.

He also really needed to figure out a way to coexist with that racoon.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #the volturi #demetri volturi #x witch reader #a little magic #demetri volturi x witch!reader #castor the racoon #best character I ever did make #divination #witchcraft

145 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

to have and to hold

request from nonnie: Hey I'm 17 and still sleep with stuffed animals.... can you write something where George finds out and teases you about it? I know I'm a bit weird but I cuddle in my sleep so it's hoard stuffed animals or kidnap my cat (dangerous).

word count: 3.3k

pairing: george x reader

A/N: y’all i love this—totally nothing wrong with sleeping with stuffed animals, THEY’RE SO CUDDLY! and that’s what they’re for! thank you for reading and requesting, i’m so grateful for you all, and in case anyone’s wondering, i’m still irrevocably head over heels for these silly boys. also the title’s a tad misleading but there’s no marriage in this but it’s definitely all FLUFF because i’m a dork

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added darlings!

The Sorting Hat cries Ravenclaw! as a young, brown haired girl jumps from the stool and gleefully makes her way over to her respective House table.

Everyone begins to clap, and although he doesn’t feel much like it, George does too.

He’s a bit taken aback when you say to him suddenly, “I can’t believe that was us only a few short years ago.”

Just a few months ago, it seemed as though your seventh and final year at Hogwarts was still a long while away. It couldn’t be creeping up that quickly, could it? You both met only six years ago in Transfiguration, but it feels like a lifetime. George grins at the memory. But now, sitting and watching the newest first years get placed into their Houses, he’s feeling the nerves of the finality of it all—even though you’re not there yet. Not exactly.

“Strange, isn’t it?” he asks you, watching another student jump up excitedly and run to the Hufflepuff table. More claps ensue. “There’s no way this is our last year here, right? We must be dreaming, or something.”

A small smile tugs at the edges of your lips, and George feels his insides go warm. “Of course,” you reply, “we’re dreaming.”

“Would you two quit being so melancholy?” Fred takes you by surprise when he kicks both of you underneath the table. “It’s our final year! It’s exciting! We’ve got loads of mischief planned, Y/N, and we expect your help.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to get out of this, is there?”

The twins smile and chorus together, “Nope.” before diving head first into the feast that’s just appeared in front of you all.

“Ah well—it is exciting, isn’t it? We’ve got a lot to look forward to!” you tell them, cutting into the piece of chicken on your plate, “and besides.. with whatever you two have planned? I reckon I’m bound for some type of adventure. Things could be worse, right?”

Just then, a sickeningly sinister giggle emits from the front of the Great Hall; the three of you look at a woman dressed in all pink, whose face resembles that of an old toad, chatting animatedly with Dumbledore who’s looking positively woebegone.

“Ugh,” you say, looking back and forth between the twins, “maybe I’ve spoken too soon.”

— -

You’re tiptoeing next to George in the middle of the corridor; you keep whirling around to check if anyone’s behind you. Months, you’ve been doing this. He can’t help but grin at your flustered state. “D’you really think this is a good idea?” you ask him stealthily as the two of you meander throughout the castle halls.

“Of course,” he replies, squeezing your hand. But inside, he’s just not entirely sure. By the sounds of what Harry’s said, getting detention with Umbridge is no walk in the park. He turns back to you and continues, “Don’t worry—Harry knows what he’s doing. Plus, we haven’t been caught yet, have we?” He jabs you in the ribs and teases you, “Where’s that sense of adventure we so admire? Oi, here’s Fred and Ginny.”

Just then, the two Weasley siblings round the bend and quite literally bump into you both. Fred says quietly, “Merlin help me—I can’t ever remember where this bloody room is,”

“Seventh floor, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy,” you reply in a lowered voice, your eyes shifting across the corridors, “so you’ve got a flew floors to go, Freddie.”

Both he and George laugh; Fred continues, “You’d think after months of going to these meetings, I’d remember where it is?”

“Why am I not surprised?” Ginny elbows Fred, teasing him slightly. “C’mon then, let’s go—looks like the coast is clear,”

The four of you make your way up two more flights of steps, sneak past the tapestry, and finally find yourselves inside the Room of Requirement.

It’s an easy lesson today; with the impending Christmas holidays, everyone is in quite a chipper mood—the Room of Requirement has a light, airy feel to it, and everyone seems to be doing their best at all of the defensive magic Harry’s taught so far—even Neville! When he dismisses you for the day, noting that you probably won’t meet again until the New Year, a dramatic groan nearly shakes the room—it seems as though everyone wants to stay.

When you all land back in the common room and take a seat next to the fire, Fred immediately begins to market his and George’s products to a bunch of excited looking Gryffindors; to you, George just shrugs.

“Oh, that reminds me,” you begin, standing up from the couch and gesturing George toward the dormitory, “I think I’ve fixed that little issue with the Fever Fudge.”

George grins broadly; there’s not many people he and Fred trust with their products, but you? You’re basically a third owner. He stops short, though, at the stairs leading up to the girls dormitories. You shake your head and say, “No worry, most everyone’s gone home for the holidays already. Plus—I’ve already hoodwinked whatever spell the professors have cast.”

“So I won’t get caught, then?”

“Nah,” you reply, urging him forward, “I’m strangely brilliant at derailing bits of professional magic,”

He beams at you at this and follows up to the girls dormitory, leaving Fred with a room full of students eager to get their hands on all Weasley products.

It doesn’t look as different from the boys' dorms as he thinks; it’s pretty much the same setup, same four posters, similar looking curtains. He shrugs, thinking, Nothing to worry about, but when he notices you plop down on your bed, he suddenly feels his insides constrict. You pat the spot next to you and say, “Well c’mere, won’t you?”

He places himself down next to you, careful not to mess your very neat bedspread, while he watches you rummage through a bit of your trunk. “Ah—here we are,” you say brightly, pulling out the box of Fever Fudge you’d hidden so as not to be stolen, “good as new, Georgie. The fevers, now, should stop at the appropriate number we’ve discussed—they shouldn’t continue to spike as the evenings go on. Any problems, let me know!”

“You’re brilliant, truly,” he says, peering down at the box of his own inventions. “How did you get so bloody good at this?”

You smile sweetly at him and flip your hair, “Just got lucky, I suppose.”

He laughs and is about to head back downstairs, careful not to mess up anyone’s things, when he spots a little brown bear on your bed near your pillows. His lips curl into a grin, “Erm.. Y/N,” he begins, pointing to the stuffed bear, “what is that?”

Suddenly you jump onto your bed and try to secretly slip this tiny little animal behind all of your pillows. The rosy pink color of your cheeks is evident in the sunlight flooding the windows, “Erm—what’s what, George?”

He places the box of fever fudge down on the table next to your bed, and walks slowly over to you. With a mischievous grin on his face, he continues, “Don’t make me jump on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But I would.”

And as soon as he says it, he does it; he flops down dramatically, ruining your very tidy sheets. He begins to poke you in the ribs, a tickling of some sort, to try and get you to move. It seems to work, because he grabs the bear from behind your back and you both fall backwards, next to one another, laughing quite animatedly.

He waits with bated breath for you to explain yourself. “Shove off, Georgie,” you say, stealing the bear back from him, twirling it in your fingers and peering at it. You offer to continue, “My mum gave him to me when I was a baby. When I was born. A little ‘coming home’ gift, if you will.”

“You mean to tell me,” George begins, “that you’ve had this for seventeen years?”

You roll your eyes and stifle a bit of laughter. You roll off of the bed, stand up, and place the bear delicately into your trunk. You pull George into an upright position and say, “This conversation’s over. C’mon—let’s bring Fred the fixed Fever Fudge,”

“This conversation is certainly not over,” he teases.

“It’s a source of comfort, you git!” you reply, slapping him playfully across his chest.

“Comfort,” he echoes through a chuckle, “right. And he’s here now because.. you need comforting after a long Potions lesson with Snape?”

You slap him again as you both begin to laugh. “Yes,” you tell him straightforwardly, “and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, after a long day, I just need something to hug, to hold whilst I sleep, alright? Quit the teasing,”

Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to pull you into an embrace washes over George; he wants, more than anything, to just curl up with you on your bed right now, and to hug you for as long as you need. He’s about to do so, when you pull him by his hand and say, “Oh come on—can’t leave your brother waiting, can we?”

George can’t help himself; he just needs to tease you. Just a little bit more. He begins to tickle your waist when he calls in a sing-song voice down the stairs, “Oh, Freddie!”

You turn and grab his arms; even though he’s feeling rather mischievous, the butterflies are swirling around his stomach, as well. A sinister smirk tugs at the edges of your lips and he feels as though his entire body goes rigid when you wink at him, “Don’t you dare.”

— -

When Ginny enters the portrait hole, she’s surprised to see George slumped in an armchair and not with Fred, off creating some sort of chaotic mischief right underneath Umbridge’s nose.

“No pranks today?” she asks, sinking beside him on the couch.

“Reckon you didn’t see Angelina hanging all over Fred in the Great Hall, then?”

“Guess I must’ve missed it,” she rolls her eyes, and they both smile. “Speaking of—how are things going with Y/N?”

George is slightly taken back; he peers at Ginny with a confused expression and she just shakes her head at him. He knows that everyone else sees right through him, but he never expected his younger sister to bring it up. Guess he’s the type of bloke who wears his heart on his sleeve. “Erm, I mean—things are fine.”

“Things are most certainly not fine. Why haven’t you told her?”

George has been preparing for this—whether it was to come from a sibling or a friend—he knew, down the line, someone would question him as to why you two aren’t together. He slumps back into the couch and twirls his wand in both his hands. “Well—‘cause, we’re leaving soon, aren’t we? Fred and me. Just doesn’t make sense at this point.” He sinks a little lower, and his face turns sullen. “I’ve missed my chance. It’s too late, Gin.”

Just then, you pop inside with Dean and Seamus, giggling animatedly about some silly joke one of them made, and you raise your hand to George and Ginny before quickly heading upstairs to the girls dormitory to change out of your uniforms. There’s a tug at George’s heart—if only he could sneak up there without anyone seeing.

“Hey,” Ginny snaps her fingers at him, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him out of his daydream-like state, “It’s never too late.”

“You think?”

Ginny raises her eyebrows when she notices you coming back down the stairs and making a b-line right toward them. Quietly, she tells him, “I reckon she’ll think the same.”

When you seat yourself down next to them and Ginny quickly changes the conversation, George can’t help but grin goofily at the bunny slippers you have on. You sit yourself comfortably on the couch next to him, cross your legs, and blow lightly on your steaming cup of tea while Ginny relays the story of her brilliant Bat Bogey hex in the last DA meeting to you. Each and every time you smile broadly, George can feel himself shifting closer and closer to you.

— -

“The devil incarnate, she is,” Ron tells his siblings darkly. He peers down at the top of his hand, running his fingers over his silky smooth skin, knowing exactly what is about to happen as the DA prepares for a detention with Umbridge.

Harry shakes his head and replies, “Just try not to think on it all too much. It’ll be over before we know it.” He’s still looking on edge, sleep deprived. The whispers of other members can be heard slightly as Umbridge makes her way down the corridors.

“How is this even legal?”

“Where’s Professor Dumbledore? She can’t possibly get away with this.”

The Great Hall is darker than normal; the hour and a half spent there is some of the most draining George has felt in his entire life. It’s as if the writing alone is setting his soul on fire. Or, perhaps, is it the weak smile and look of pure anguish you give him from a few rows over? He can’t help but feel extremely protective, and he’s shooting daggers at Umbridge each and every chance he gets.

When you’re all finally released, Umbridge giggles in a mocking, satisfied tone. She makes her way back to her office as all of the members of the DA walk begrudgingly back to their common rooms, completely ignoring the apologies of Marietta Edgecombe, who, by the looks of it, is now regretting her decision of giving up the DA to Umbridge.

The Gryffindor common is filled with students looking positively sullen, almost each and every one of them running their fingers over their red, raw, and bloodied hands. George hops through the portrait hole and notices you in the corner, talking animatedly with Ginny and Fred.

“I swear,” Fred’s saying as George sits himself down next to you, “she’s barking mad.”

“You’d think she’d end up in Azkaban after pulling a stunt like this,” you agree, tracing the outline of the cuts on your hand with your finger, “but I reckon she can get away with anything.”

“I reckon you’re right,” George says, leaning his arms on his knees. He takes a deep breath and opts to continue, “how could she possibly get away with something like this?”

Ginny offers, “It’s the bloody Ministry.”

There’s a collective groan from all of you. Ginny shakes her head and continues, “Mum and Dad are going to go wild, you know; this isn’t over. By the way, speaking of Mum and Dad—you two planning on telling them that you’re leaving in a few weeks time?”

George suddenly feels his heart stop. Next to him, you look frantically back and forth between him and Fred, a confused expression plastered across your face. Fred is shaking his head, Ginny’s cheeks are flooding with color, and George is dreading the next conversation.

“You’re—you’re leaving?” you ask, stunned. “When?”

“Gin, we only told you because you overheard us the other night,” Fred says through gritted teeth. Then, he softens and says to George, “but.. I reckon it’s maybe time we tell a few people, eh Georgie?”

“Oh no,” Ginny says sheepishly, looking down at the floor. But you just grin weakly at her as she pulls Fred to his feet and they make their way over to the other end of the common room, most likely to tell Ron of their plans. You hope Ginny isn’t feeling too guilty.

George swallows thickly and then begins, “I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head at his apology, “You don’t need to apologize to me.” You place your hand over his and wait with bated breath for him to tell you what’s going on. You smile broadly at him when he begins to explain.

“We’re, erm, heading out a bit early, you see,” George begins, his eyes shifting from yours to the floor, “we’ve got these grand plans for a business to open up—in Diagon Alley, actually.. sell our inventions. Reckon it could become quite successful if we market correctly—”

His heart is thundering against his rib cage, surely trying its best to escape his chest, and he’s nervous that you’re not going to approve, you’re going to be angry, you won’t ever talk to him again. But to his surprise, you throw your arms around him excitedly and pull him into a bone crushing hug. He’s relaxing in your arms as he listens to your squeals of delight, breathing in the scent of your hair, focusing on the way your body feels beneath his fingertips. And when you pull away from him and shake his shoulders slightly, with both a bright smile on your face and tears in your eyes, you tell him, “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re talking quickly, shaking your head admiringly, throwing your hands into the air and running them through your hair, chuckling lightly, blinking quickly to push back any tears rising to the surface, but he can’t even hear what you’re saying. All George can hear is the pounding in his ears from the steady beat of his own heart, and not before long, he’s laughing at your exasperated state and is leaning in to kiss you, pressing his lips gently to yours and melting into something that’s been building up for years and years. The tension and surprise is subsiding, and you’re playing absentmindedly with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and you’re both ignoring the annoying whistles from his siblings near the fireplace, and you’re quite certain that George is making a rather inappropriate hand gesture at them across the room for interrupting your moment.

When you two finally part, George grins broadly at you, his hands still shaking slightly due to the adrenaline rush and he asks you, not bothering to answer Fred’s whistles at all, “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?!” you cry out, still obviously rather electrified from both the news and the kiss, “No! I’m not mad.. how could I be? I’m so excited for you both. I hope you’ll know I’ll be coming round to visit all the time.”

“Well, you better,” he replies cheekily, pulling at the collar of your shirt. Then, “I’m really going to miss you these last few weeks.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you reply breathlessly, and he now feels a tug at his heartstrings. He’s feeling nervous. Off balance. Do you still want to be with him after he leaves? Can you two survive on letters alone until after you graduate? “Do you, erm—I mean, I know I’m leaving, but—”

You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over the light stubble on his cheeks. A feeling of warmth overtakes him when you grin, peering into his yearning eyes, “We’ll make it work.”

He pulls you into his arms, and the calls from Fred and the others don’t seem to subside in the slightest. “We’re being summoned,” you tell George, leaning back against his chest. You pull out some of their inventions from your own pocket, things they’d given you early on; a pygmy puff, a screaming yo-yo, extendable ears, and more. You begin fiddling with them in your fingers and George grins against your shoulder.

“D’you want to go?”

You intertwine one of your hands in his. “Just hold me for a while first, would you?”

He giggles softly and wraps his arms tighter around you. Teasing begins to bubble up inside him and he can’t help it, he just has to say it. “Don’t you want to go and get your bear first?”

He expects the playful slap across his chest, he grins goofily when you begin to laugh, but what he doesn’t expect is what you say next. He’s practically putty in your hands when he pulls you closer and breaths in your scent when you reply,

“Reckon I don’t need it—I’ve got something else to hold, now.”

reblogs + feedback are always appreciated! thanks for reading darlings, ily so <3

207 notes · View notes

phorgstuck · 4 years

Audio

[ID: A completely black image with the words “here’s the thing.” on it in purple. End ID.]

[ID: A digital drawing in a simple, lineless style of a troll from Homestuck from the neck up looking away with an unhappy expression. She has long black hair with a violet streak in the bangs, fins, and horns that curve out and then in again. Violet text to her left says “I can’t do anything right,” End ID.] (All further images are digital drawings in a lineless style.)

[ID: The same image as before, but now the troll has shorter hair (chin-length) and the text says “I can’t do anything right, try as I absolutely totally might.” End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of a troll looking directly at the camera. She has dark gray facepaint covering half her face and with a swirly pattern where it stops, long black hair, and horns that curve backwards. The same face is repeated behind her, slightly faded and with white eyes. Purple text at the top and bottom of the image says “The bones are melting, the skeleton is ash”. End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of a troll looking down with a happy expression. They have short fluffy black hair, horns that curl forward, and are wearing a blue shirt, although we can’t see past their shoulders. Black splatters are scattered across the lower half of the image, in a way that indicated the troll is looking in the direction of the splatters. Blue text says “the clavicle detaches and falls with a deafening crash.” End ID.]

[ID: The same troll as before, but now they look angry and are pointing at something off-camera. Blue text says “And I’m not your protagonist”. End ID.]

[ID: The troll with the violet in her hair from the first pictures is now shown again, with her hand on her cheek, looking thoughtful and unhappy. Violet text above her reads in parentheses “I’m not even my own.” End ID.]

[ID: A close-up of a troll’s face. Their horns go straight out and then curve up, and their hair is a short bob. Their mouth is open and their eyes have been replaced with the Void symbol, which looks like a spiral without the center. A pattern of static and blocks of color has been overlaid to give a glitching effect. Blue text at the top and bottom of the picture reads “I don’t know anything/I don’t even know what I don’t know.” End ID.]

[ID: A series of beige and light green lines indicate the shape of trees. Green text at the bottom of the picture reads “and if you look outside you’ll see disintegrating trees”, but the “disintegrating trees” has an echo effect to it. End ID.]

[ID: A purposely pixelated image of a small troll standing in front of a green background. Due to the pixels, the only details shown are a black shirt, gray pants, and short hair. Red text at the bottom reads “the artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves”. End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of a troll standing with her hands held together in front of her. She is wearing a gray hoodie with a pink pocket, black pants, and fuchsia shoes. Her hair is about elbow-length, she has fins, and her horns curve towards each other and are decorated with gold circlets that are linked together. She has splatters of gold on her pants, hoodie, and shoes, and looks upset. Fuchsia text at the top reads “My heart catches on every thorn”. End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of a troll with horns that loop and short, messy hair smiling and looking forward. She’s wearing a purple jacket and is holding the hands of another troll, who we can only see the head of. The other troll has gold blood on them and has four horns which are curvy and black hair that covers their eyes. Stairs are outlined behind the first troll, and fuchsia text reads “You’re already halfway out the door.” End ID.]

[ID: The fuchsia troll is now looking away. Fuchsia text reads “And I have never looked so old.” End ID.]

[ID: The drawing of the troll in the purple jacket again. She is now also looking away and not smiling. Red text at the top of the image reads “and i have never been so cold”. End ID.]

[ID: A drawing showing the fuchsia troll and the one in the purple jacket facing each other in profile, not showing any of their faces. The troll in the jacket is shown to be dragging the body of another troll with four horns, a white coat, black shirt, black shoes and gray pants. There’s gold spots going from the fuchsia troll to the other two. Text fading from fuchsia to red at the top says “and it is 85 degrees.” Gold text with a drippy effect at the bottom says “I don’t know what I need.” End ID.]

[ID: A black background with a wheel of images on it. The images, going counterclockwise from the left, are a gold spiral, a teal circle with three squiggly lines extending from it, a stylized pair of wings in brown, two blue horizontal wavy lines, two vertical red wavy lines, a stylized jade green sun, a purple gear, a olive heart, a stylized fuchsia angry face, a dark blue line with three more lines extending down from it, a simplified violet skull, and a blue spiral without a middle. End ID.]

[ID: A close up of a cup of tea sitting on a bunch of gray rectangles with wavy lines coming off of it indicating steam. Blue text above it reads “There’s lukewarm mango sweet hibiscus tea” End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of a completely gray person lying on their back staring up. They have two blue antennae which form diamond shapes and a yellow stripe across their face and three gray marks on the stripe, indicating eyes. A very large orange cat is partially shown off to one side. Dark blue text at the top reads “on the hot garbage pile in which i fucking sleep”. End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of the troll with four horns, a white coat, and a black shirt, standing upright with their hands to their head and an angry expression. The place where eyes would normally be drawing is a blur of pink and bright blue, and bright pink and blue scribbles are drawn all around them. Gold text says “The walls are empty/It’s so ugly/I could burn the whole place down.” End ID.]

[ID: The troll with horns that go out and then curve up and a black bob is looking offscreen with a concerned expression. Behind them is a blue gradient and spots of blue are going across the picture. Blue text at the bottom says “It wouldn’t catch, cause all the posters are on their way to my hometown.” End ID.]

[ID: A close up of the troll with four horns. Their tongue is sticking out. Their hair covers their eyes, but a faint blue and pink glow is shown coming out from underneath it. They are surrounded by pink hearts and gold stars, some of which have bright pink or blue x’s through them. Gold text reads “And I am not your protagonist.” End ID.]

[ID: A troll with horns that curl forward, a black bob, and an orange scarf is touching a feather quill to a piece of paper. A thick yellow swirl is coming out of the paper and fading to white behind them. Brown text in the white reads “(I’m not even my own...)” End ID.]

[ID: A drawing of a troll sitting on a rooftop. The drawing is from far away, so there’s few details, but the troll is wearing a teal hat with earflaps. Teal text reads “I don’t know anything, I don’t even know, what I don’t know.” End ID.]

[ID: Black lines indicate trees with leaves falling. Gray lines of various shades are all around the black lines, giving it a blurry or shaky effect. Blue text at the top reads “And if you look outside you’ll see, disintegrating trees.” End ID.]

[ID: A picture of a leaf with several overlays and edits to make it appear glitchy. Green text reads “The artificial way the sunlight bounces off the glitching leaves”. End ID.]

[ID: A picture of a troll crying olive tears as they hold out a necklace with a silver heart pendant in front of them. Their teeth are pointy and we can’t see their horns. A pink glow comes from the silver heart. Green text reads “My wet heart catches on every thorn.” End ID.]

[ID: A troll in a purple dress with long black hair and horns that wave backwards is smiling with a sad expression as they reach up to words. Their eyes are fading to white. Their hand is covered in purple and is touching purple words on a door that read “youre already halfway out the door.” End ID.]

[ID: The drawing is divided into three parts vertically. The first shows a close up of a troll frowning. Their eyes are obscured and the background underneath their face is blue. Blue text above them says “And I’m so” and fuchsia text below them says “tiny.” The second shows a troll’s face with their eyes obscured smiling widely. The background is purple. Purple text above reads “And so” and red text below reads “old”. The third is a face with blue and pink x’s in place of eyes and a slightly open mouth. The background is blue. White ext over the face reads “and god it’s never been so cold.” (god is in green.) Gold text below reads “cold”. End ID.]

[ID: A black background with “And it is 85 degrees” in white. End ID.]

[ID: A black background. The text “I don’t know what I need” in a gradient of colors is in the middle, surrounded by hands. The hands are as follows, clockwise from left; a gray hand pointing, a red hand reaching down, streaked with gold, a fuchsia hand with gold splatters in a fist, an olive hand forming half a heart, a violet hand with black fingernails, a blue hand fading into black, a teal hand giving a thumbs up, a purple hand pointing, a green hand with a glitchy effect, a blue hand and a gold hand touching each other (the gold hand has bright blue and pink lines around it), and a brown hand that is covered in slashes of black and gray. End ID.]

PHEW this took me uhhhh literal months?? but here it is! the official Phrogstuck Lyricstuck to Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott!!

#mod masgor #art #in order of appearance #avrune xhedia #zinkaa ciervo #baylie aseret #achlys exdrin #luxioh viridi #phanta masgor #lillie talion #leviat typhon #zessac #kriren rhiase #camrin pyrope #airwan tigrea #and i think that's everyone!

3 notes · View notes

amphxtrite · 4 years

Note

hi aight so my name is annabelle i’m 14 (😐) almost 15 on january 31! i’m also a full blown hufflepuff

i have light green eyes and like an ashy blonde almost brown type colored mostly straight hair going a little past my shoulders. i’m bout 5”10 idk if that matters lolll my skin is also pretty pale i cant think of anything else

so basically i’m really into spirituality and divination! i love working with tarot cards and studying them and astrology. i’m very much into crystals and meditating and i love to just journal about my day a lot. i’m a mostly introverted person but i’ll really probably be a bit obnoxious around the right people but overall i’m really really quiet. also omg i love art like painting, drawing (literally doing it rn), clay, photography, literally everything and still experimenting. i love nature and space even tho it scares me a lot lmao i just love to gain knowledge of things!! also my goodness i LOVE CATS!!!!!!!! SO MUCH!!! ‼️ i think that’s it. actually nope i also like to write a lot just about anything and i’m still learning. but yea u get the point :-)

i don’t really mind if my ship is a boy or girl but i do prefer a boy in the golden era 😌

thank you so much btw

i ship you with...

Cedric Diggory.

how you meet

Cedric was rather skeptical of Divinations when he first stepped into the class, he wanted to try all the classes Hogwarts has to offer, even if most people told him that Divination wasn’t very popular.

Stepping into the huge room filled with couches, a strong sweet scent immediately floods his senses and he stumbles to the closest table to sit down.

Professor Trelawney emerges and begins the lesson, explaining the art of tessomancy and how it could read your future. The girl next to him focuses with great interests as she hits down many notes in a leather bound notebook, her hands moving swiftly across the page.

“Now sip from the cup, pour out the liquid and tellby our partner what you see!” Trelawney exclaims, waving her hands for you to begin.

Cedric follows the instructions, taking a sip of the tea before pouring out the rest of the liquid and turning to the girl next to him.

“I’m Cedric by the way.” He smiles, peering down into his cup.

“Annabelle.” You respond, glancing down into your own cup.

Cedric does his best to focus on his tea leaves, but he finds his grey eyes trailing up to your face again, your bright green eyes furrow in concentration and you swipe your blonde hair behind your ear.

“I think I see a star in my cup, what about you Cedric?” Your eyes snap up to see Cedric looking at you with pink cheeks.

“Um I see a h-heart I think.” Cedric squints his eyes into the cup only to have it pulled from his hand.

“Oh, a heart! My dear boy, I see passion, romance and love.” Trelawney sighs, shaking Cedric’s shoulder.

“And you my dear Annabelle, a star. The sign of success and good luck!” The professor sighs looking back and forth at the two of you.

“It’s like you were made for eachother. Love and success. The heart and the star, so simple, yet so beautiful. Absolutely divine.” Trelawney continues as the two students cheeks heat up at her comment. She begins running around the room, the sentences, ‘made for eachother.’ and ‘young love.’ being the most evident.

Cedric looks back you and your lips pull up into a small grin.

“Well, now what am I supposed to do now I know who my perfect match is?” you laugh, picking up your journal to jot something down again.

“I guess his is the part I ask my perfect match on a date?” Cedric smirks, offering you his hand.

“I don’t see why not my heart.”

Cedric begins to walk the halls with you in between classes to get to know you

Sometimes the two of you hang out in the fields to draw the mountains

You invite him to meditate with you but usually he’ll just sit beside you and read or sketch you

he loves the way your eyelashes seem to tangle up in the sunlight and how your skin seems to glow

when you introduce him to your cat he just scoops it up and starts cuddling with it

Sometimes you’ll all curl up in the common room together either to draw or just talk. Your cat will take turns cuddling up to the both of you and Cedric will stop mid sentence to watch your eyes light up when it comes walking your way

Cedric loves the look of excitement you get when anything happens and how quickly you pull out your notebook to write something down

brushing your hair while you meditate (if you let him)

He likes talking to you about nature and space, it’s also fascinated him forever and he loves how in depth your conversations are and how your eyes widen when you explain something

He loves your eyes and your smile, when your eyes light up and your cheeks pull back into a full smile it has a pink blush on his face in seconds

Trelawney continuing with the soulmate banter explaining in depth how the two of you were meant for eachother just based on your signs

“How long do you suppose this will go on?” Cedric chuckles as Trelawney spreads her arms out to say how your love must be written in the stars

“I don’t know but I must say I am growing rather fond of you Cedric.” You smile, taking his hand into yours

“Well I’m happy to say I am as well Annabelle.”

One day while you’re in the hufflepuff common room, meditating, Cedric comes in to sit beside you with your cat, who immediately runs to you and pounces in your lap.

You open your eyes and smile and Cedric knew then and there, that maybe Trelawney was more than just crazy, because she lead him to you.

He walks over and wraps an arms around you, bringing you closer to him until you’re nuzzling into his neck while holding your cat in your arms

“You’re so beautiful you know that.” Cedric sighs with a grin.

“What are you trying to say Cedric?” You cock your eye brow and pull back a bit from your resting spot.

“That I have the most beautiful girl in my arm right now and I want her to know it.” He chuckles placing his forehead against yours

“Go on.” You tease, cupping Cedric’s cheek in your hand

“Well, I was wondering if said girl wanted to be my... girlfriend?” Cedric murmurs, slowly getting closer to your lips.

You pause and pull away a little with a smile adorning your features before moving close to Cedric again and pressing your lips to his.

Cedric’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he responds quickly and soon his arms are around you again as your lips move in sync

“I think you got your answer Ced.” You smirk cuddling closer to him again.

“Yes and I’m very happy with the response.” Cedric laughs, peppering kisses on your hairline and stroking the soft fur of the cat who still resides in your lap, happily putting away.

I hope you like it!!🤍🤍

4 notes · View notes

meganshinsou-tm · 5 years

Text

habit. (f)

☙ pairing: hitoshi x kiyomi

☙ theme: fluff

☙ a/n: i just wanted to write about the hc i have of kiyomi kneading hitoshi’s chest and chewing/sucking on his cheek like a kitten when she misses him.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes with a quiet sigh, laying there in bed and accepting his current fate.

Kiyomi’s small frame curled close to his side with one leg hiked up and thrown over his stomach. The ends of her fluffy tails twitched happily without any thought while steady soft purrs fell from her mouth that was full of his cheek.

Yes … his cheek.

She seemed to have this sort of - habit. It was a blessing and a curse Hitoshi always said.

When Kiyomi was feeling particularly affectionate, which was honestly the majority of the time, and Hitoshi had been gone for a while on missions, she would do this thing. This thing being lightly gnawing and sucking on his cheek while her clawed fingers kneaded his chest. The act would leave Hitoshi with nearly permanent teeth marks and purple hickey’s on the one side of his face for days.

That was the curse part of it.

Having to explain the markings to his agency in the beginning was a funny story. No one believed him at first and thought that Kiyomi was just overly kinky and uncontrollable but when Hitoshi came in one day with video evidence, everyone around him awed at the cuteness of it. So now it was very well known that when Hitoshi comes back from an extremely long mission, you can expect him to come back to work the next day with the evidence of how much Kiyomi missed him.

Hitoshi smirked lazily as he laid a hand on Kiyomi’s knee and used the other to gently scratch the base of one of her ears. She purred even louder at that and gave a slightly harsher bite that had Hitoshi chuckling. Then a small and warm gentle lick swiped over the teeth marks, a soft chirp interrupted the purring and she was back to business.

Once when Hitoshi finally asked why she did this, Kiyomi explained that even she didn’t really know. All she could think of was that it was just hardwired into the biology of her being an animal hybrid. Just like she had normal human impulses and tendencies, she also had animalistic ones. Some examples were how she liked to nest and burrow, how she loved to sit or lay in areas of their home where the sunlight shone. Kiyomi also had very high stamina during the warmer months and she would go out and run as much as she could. In the winter she became much lazier, those were Hitoshi’s favorite months.

And just like a fox, Kiyomi would make happy little chirps or cries when she was overly excited, tails in a frenzy of wags. When she was sad or hurt, her ears would flatten and she’d whimper with those tails tucked between her legs. So the whole assumption of her feeling the need to do this little ritual every time Hitoshi came back home made sense.

Kiyomi would also admit to Hitoshi that it was a comfort thing as well. The act of kneading and biting helped to calm and ease her.

Of course, Kiyomi had literal rubber dog chewing toys around the house that she would teeth on when she was stressed or overwhelmed. And she also had numerous fluffy blankets around that she would curl into and knead at like nobody's business. When Hitoshi questioned why she did it on him, he wasn’t prepared for the answer.

“Well … you’re my person and I know you don’t see me as a pet and that I’m not a pet but it’s kind of like that? You know how dogs get excited when their owners come back home from work? Or how cats purr and make biscuits on you when they’re content. It’s kind of like that. I miss you so much when you’re away on those missions and I literally count down the days until you come home. Whenever you do finally come home I just feel this instinct to do - that.”

Hitoshi remembered how he literally clutched his chest that day and felt like he had been ko’d.

He had never really complained about how Kiyomi treated him like one of her chew toys and blankets and after that he damn sure wasn’t going to start now! From then on Hitoshi wore the marks of Kiyomi’s affection and love with pride.

In fact he had always found it very fucking adorable! Sure it was a little inconvenient sometimes but when Kiyomi was like this he could never find it in himself to stop her. She would look and even feel so relaxed and at peace. Her eyes would flutter shut and that cute little black nose would nuzzle his cheek before small fangs were latching onto it. It would only take a few minutes for the purring to start up and for her hands to trail up his body until they found the warmest and softest spot of him. Hitoshi only ever had to interrupt Kiyomi if she was kneading a particularly ticklish spot. Even he only had so much self control to not succumb to giggles.

Then there were the cute little noises besides the purring. The happy chirps or annoyed tiny growls when he’d have to move the slightest bit. Hitoshi was a sucker for the licks too. God be still his beating heart when Kiyomi would coo and gently lick at his cheek if he hissed because she bit or sucked too hard.

Hitoshi would never understand how someone could be so fucking cute and perfect.

Yeah, that was the blessing part of it.

“Toshi,” Kiyomi suddenly mumbled sleepily.

Hitoshi quirked a brow and noticed that his face was free and turned to look at her. He smiled upon seeing her yawn and rub at her eyes, smacking her lips.

“All done kit?”

Kiyomi nodded and nosed at his now tender cheek before giving a few soft licks to it.

“For now.”

Hitoshi chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead before reaching over and turning off the bedside lamp. He tucked the covers snugly around her before cuddling her close, earning a sleepy but happy chirp and a kiss to his chest as she wrapped around him.

“What am I gonna do with you huh?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, keep me and love me.”

An exaggerated sigh fell from Hitoshi’s lips and Kiyomi smiled as he held her tighter.

“I guess I can do that.”

#hitoshi shinsou x kiyomi #hitoshi x kiyomi #kiyomi tanaka #kiyoshin #fluff #bnha oc #mha oc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hitoshi x oc #canon x oc #meganshinsou tm oc #fox hybrid #cute #hitoshi shinsou

27 notes · View notes

nexstrik · 6 years

Text

mirror true the sight i see (ahri/eve/kai’sa/akali)

Summary: In a universe where the arrival of your soul-mate is heralded by a magical animal, Ahri and Evelynn think they have it all figured out. They found each other easily, and that should have been the end of that.

But then one day a weird deer appears in their apartment and refuses to leave them alone.

TW: (Some sexual content but I don’t think this is clear-cut porn, proceed with caution anyway though)

Also can be read on AO3!

‘We know our soulmates by the trials we face on the path to find them.’ That was what her mother always said. Evelynn found the saccharine martyrdom of it, the elevation of the self-sacrificial, to be incredibly boring. But she was too kind to say so out loud. If she realized there was truth to the phrase, in how so many of her friends awoke with painful markings on their skin or blind to all the colors of the world... well, Evelynn kept that to herself too. Love shouldn’t be a crucible. She firmly believed that soul mates arrived when you were ready for them, and not a moment sooner. When you opened your heart and mind to the idea, your body would respond. It was as simple as that. Her own life experience proved it. Clear cut. When she was thirteen, a fox cub appeared in her bedroom. It clung to her like a shadow, never needing food or rest.

A few frantic phone calls and research trips showed that the manifestation of an animal for your soul mate wasn’t unheard of, just incredibly rare. Soul marks often presented as symbols or words on skin, rarely as something external and realized as an animal. Despite her claims otherwise, Evelynn always did have a flair for the dramatic. Maybe she learned it from her mother. It took years for anything to come of it. Years of living with the shadow of her soul mate, wondering what they might be like. Knowing that somewhere out there, another person held a part of her soul, too. She wondered what animal she was. She wondered what it said about her character. She hoped that she was a good person, that her soul mate didn’t see that splinter of her soul and dread meeting its owner. She tried so fucking hard to be a good person. It ate at her more than she wanted to admit, not knowing what her soul was saying at any given moment. She could read the fox so well, saw so much of his owner in him. Evelynn saw capriciousness in the fox, vanity, and a sharp, wicked sense of humor. He even bit her sometimes, never breaking skin but always when she least expected, like he was testing her. Her first instinct was to lash out, but always, she hesitated. If she responded with violence to this, this little creature that depended almost entirely on her love, then what would she do when she met his owner? A human being with all their imperfections and flaws?

She learned patience from the fox.

Meeting Ahri was a bone-deep relief. She saw the pink snake wrapped around the other girl’s wrist, recognized her own soul in the animal’s eyes, and everything else fell into place. She never second-guessed any of it. How could she, when Ahri so perfectly complemented her? Except sometimes, she did. Staring at the ceiling, awake at night. She questioned the concept of soul mates. She doubted the merit of something so utterly random and out of her control. But then she would turn in her bed and see her wife with a fox sprawled over her lower back and a serpent coiled on top of her head, all three of them fast asleep. And she remembered that the earth was nothing but a massive spinning ball of dirt and fire and gas, that literally every aspect of her existence was happenstance and out of her control. Being existential and overly melancholy didn’t suit her. So she rolled with it and marched on.

Until one morning, Ahri stepped outside to get the mail and everything changed forever. She hovered there in the entrance to their apartment, stock still. Very slowly, she closed the door, ran over to Evelynn and scream-whispered, "Honey! Eve! Come quick, you've got to see this!"

Curled up on their doorstep was a baby deer small enough to fit in both of her palms, white-speckled and wide-eyed. In the middle of Seoul. Miles from any zoo or sanctuary or anywhere you might rationally find a deer.

"Hello, beautiful!" Ahri sang, her phone camera working at a frenzied pace. "Where did you come from? Are you lost? It's so small, Eve, what should we do...?"

The fawn's ears flicked forward when Evelynn peeked out the doorway, and their eyes met, and Evelynn knew.

"Isn't it cute?" Ahri whispered, as if the deer might bolt. In that moment, Evelynn realized Ahri didn't see what she saw.

"No," Evelynn said, opening the door wider.

Getting up on wobbly legs, the sign of her second soul mate scampered through the threshold.

Evelynn paced in front of their couch. At her heels, Ahri's fennec fox followed close as a shadow. They'd named him Kuho, because he always trotted with the confidence and air of a little runway model. Today was no different, though his fur was fluffed up at the tense atmosphere in the room.

"What does this mean?" Evelynn said, pacing, pacing, pacing. Kuho struggled to follow, and even stumbled once or twice until she bent down and scooped him into her arms. "What does this mean? What the fuck does this mean?"

Distressed, she held him on his back like a baby, played with his long ears, squishing them the way she knew he liked. Kuho closed his eyes, little toes flexing in delight at the attention. He was as real as ever, and she felt Ahri's energy pulsing inside of him as sure as a heart beat. Unquestionably, this fox was the mark of her soul mate.

So what was that deer doing on Ahri's lap?

When she dared to glance at the fawn, she saw the animal was tracking her every move, tilting her head to make sure she kept Evelynn in her sight at all times.

Ahri noticed, too. "She really seems to like you."

"She's a deer," Evelynn snapped.

"Aw, babe. Don't be like that." Ahri held the deer to her face, snuggling against the coarse fur. "How can you be mad at a face like this?"

"Very easily!"

Evelynn set Kuho down and plucked the fawn from Ahri's arms. The thing was only the size of a small cat, and a quick internet search confirmed that she was a Chinese water deer. And she was adorable.

Infuriating.

"I do have one theory," Ahri finally said, pulling on her hair and twisting it into nervous braids. "But you're not going to like it."

"I already don't like any of this," Evelynn said, trying to ignore how the deer insisted on resting her chin on Evelynn's shoulder.

Ahri bit her lower lip. "It is a baby deer. So maybe in means...we're about to have a baby?"

Oh.

Evelynn wasn't sure what she should say, if she should say anything. Ahri was resolutely not making any eye contact, twisting her hair tighter and tighter. They talked about this of course, they took precautions, but it had been years since either of them needed to worry about an accident happening. "That's my responsibility, not yours. I didn't get my tubes tied for shits and giggles, you know." Still, she mentally added buy a pregnancy test to her to-do list, just to reassure Ahri.

"I know, but I'd be remiss if I didn't at least mention it. Those surgeries don't always take, HRT doesn't count as birth control, and even forgetting all that, there's other ways a child might land in our life." Getting up, Ahri moved closer so that she could stroke the deer's head again. "...She fell asleep."

Evelynn glanced down, hating how her heart twisted at the sight of it— the deer with her neck stretched out, chin on Evelynn's shoulder, breathing slowly. "Kuho was a baby when he came to me, too."

Ahri's mouth opened in surprise, eyes flooded with relief. "Oh? Eopsin was all grown up when I found her, so I assumed it was the same for you."

"Eopsin—" A sudden bolt of anxiety stabbed right through her. "Where is she right now?"

"Probably in her..." Evelynn didn't wait for Ahri to finish, sweeping further into the apartment. She found Eopsin in a fat pile on the windowsill, soaking up the morning sunlight. Her pink tongue flickered out, beady eyes as pretty as peppermint candy.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"...favorite spot," Ahri finished, a few paces behind Evelynn. "See? She's still there."

Two warm hands encircled her waist. Ahri held Evelynn tight, her forehead pressed between Evelynn's shoulders.

"I am too. I'm not going anywhere, not if I can help it." Ahri promised, her palms resting flat on Evelynn's stomach. "And if it's something out of my control— well, I'll be at ease knowing you won't be lonely."

Without any warning, tears shot to her eyes. She wanted to wipe them away but she couldn't, not without jostling the baby deer and waking her. Don't say that, she wanted to beg Ahri, but she couldn't, not without betraying the fact that she was crying. Please don't ever say that again.

In the days that followed, she didn't want anything to do with the deer. Not even with how she followed Evelynn from room to room, clinging to her the way Kuho still did. It made her sick to see them cuddled up together at night, asleep at the foot of their bed.

She didn't know who she could talk to about this. Not only because of the unprecedented occurrence of having two soul marks, but because pure shame pinned her tongue down. Evelynn saw the mere presence of the soul mark as a sign of infidelity. She felt like she'd ruined their marriage without even meaning to, and she didn't know how she could fix it.

Shame was an alien emotion for her; she didn't wear it well. And worse than shame— fear. Terror at the unknown.

Once again, Evelynn was forced to confront the unknowable nature of their souls, of the forces that pulled and pushed them together regardless of how they felt.

"Fucker," she said to the fawn, who of course could not talk. Despite the soul mark in her eyes, she was still just a deer. "Homewrecker."

Ahri frowned. "Honey, I'm gonna to need you to get a grip. Okay? It's a deer."

"It's taunting me."

So Ahri just threw her hands up in defeat, letting the subject matter drop for now.

But eventually the days turned into weeks, and months into years. The deer stuck around, growing into an adult. Ahri thankfully took it all in stride. She only lamented that the fawn's spotted 'powdered sugar frosting' faded away, and her fangs grew in. Evelynn suggested that maybe the sugar had just caramelized, so they named her Ppopgi.

As time went on it grew harder and harder to stay angry. Especially as it became clear that Ppopgi adored them both. They couldn't reject her any more than they could reject the blood pounding through their veins. Not when Ppopgi only ever wanted to be loved, only ever wanted to be near them. She was sprightly and mischievous and so unerringly sweet that there was no way Evelynn couldn't love her back in turn.

"Don't you look cozy." Ahri hung from their bedroom door, peeking in at the two of them.

Over the cover of her book, Evelynn glanced down at the deer on her lap. Fully grown now, there was no mistaking her for a normal animal. Though Ahri didn't feel the pull of fate's strings, didn't see her soul mark in Ppopgi's eyes, anyone could tell at a glance that she was tied somehow to Evelynn's fate.

"She hogs up half the bed," Evelynn complained, even as she scratched behind her flickering ears, swapping to baby talk. "Don't you? You needy little dumbass? Huh? You little shit?"

"I'm just glad she isn't like a big deer." Ahri retreated around the corner, shaking her head and chuckling. "It's going to get cramped as hell in here when we find our soul mate."

Our soul mate.

Perhaps it should have been more obvious from the start. Both of them were so much readier to accept the idea that they would lose something, rather than the idea that something would be gained.

Ahri displayed absolutely no jealousy. She stayed true to her word: nothing would take her away. So the evenings often found all five of them sprawled out on the couch, one big weird family.

And one night she heard Ahri shout in surprise. A clatter in the kitchen roused her from her desk and Evelynn went to check on her. "Babe?"

Ahri sat on the kitchen floor, both hands covering her mouth.

"What's wrong?" She tried to see what was amiss, noticing nothing different except Ahri seemed to have dropped the rice cooker. Draped over Ahri's shoulders, Eopsin stuck her head up and turned to Evelynn when she entered the room. Her pink tongue flickered, tasting the air. Ppopgi was licking the flat top of the snake's head.

"I saw her," Ahri said, eyes wide, voice still muffled by her own hands as Ppopgi started to groom her, too. "Evelynn, I saw my mark in her eyes. Whoever her owner is, they're my soul mate, too."

Ppopgi gave them both a little nuzzle, and after that there was no doubt. What took Evelynn years to come to terms with, Ahri accepted right away.

Maybe that's why both of her soul marks had come to her so underdeveloped.

From the deer, Evelynn learned she had plenty of room to change and grow.

Meeting Kai'sa was a complete accident. But given their track record with 'accidents', Evelynn wondered if it hadn't occurred precisely when it needed to.

She should have known something was up when Eopsin insisted on coming along for their jog. Evelynn was positive she'd left the snake inside when she locked their front door. However, when they reached the park, her bag suddenly felt much heavier.

Sure enough, the snake was inside. Eopsin wasn't a natural animal, and no amount of distance could keep her away from Evelynn or Ahri if she really wanted to be with them. Likewise with Kuho and Ppopgi, but it wasn't so unusual to see them trotting at Evelynn's heels. They enjoyed their daily runs.

Ahri, however, did not.

"I hate thiiiiis," she moaned, lagging behind. The animals crowded around her when she stopped, Ppopgi nosing her in concern.

Evelynn took the opportunity to catch her breath as well, though she hated having her momentum paused. "Don't be a baby. This is good for you, you sit too much at your job."

"I have a standing desk!" Ahri protested, gasping in offense. "And I have to be on my feet chasing models all day!"

"It's still good for you!" Evelynn crossed her arms. "If I could trust you to keep up any kind of workout routine I wouldn't insist on this. And didn't you make me promise not to let you slack off?"

"Noo," Ahri moaned again, squatting down with her hands over her head.

"And didn't you tell me that I couldn't let you squirm out of your New Year's Resolutions no matter how much you whined?"

"Noooooo!" Ahri shouted louder.

Evelynn caved. Or she was about to cave, until a black fox the size of a doberman launched out of nowhere and snatched Kuho right by the scruff. He bounded off, stopping a short distance away with his tail swishing in excitement.

"Skaduwee! Geen!"

A tall woman jogged down the path, hot on the fox's tail. She reached for him, shouting in a language none of them understood.

Kuho let out a yelp before the two foxes vanished into thin air. Evelynn and Ahri could only stand there, stunned, as the stranger kept searching frantically for their animals. She swapped to English in frustration, swearing up and down. "When I find you I'm going to turn you into a fur coat, you...!"

Eopsin slithered out of Evelynn's bag. A pink streak of lightning, he wound up the stranger's leg, up around her chest, and under her shirt. Then he squeezed out of the collar to wind around her neck, accompanied by a piebald, black-and-white snake.

The two of them encircled her head like a crown, and in that instant it almost felt like they worked as a set of hands, turning her head towards Ahri and Eve.

"...Oh," the stranger said, standing a little off balance. The snakes dropped from her, but never landed onto the earth. Instead they vanished, too.

So only Ppopgi was left. Her hooves clopped lightly on the pavement, nose outstretched and ears pricked forward.

"Oh," the stranger said again, her knees giving way. She plopped down onto the ground while Ppopgi squirmed onto her lap, snuggling her furiously. The stranger pretty much had no choice but to hold her, arms loosely entwined around the wiggling, soul marked deer. "Oh. Oh my god."

None of them could say anything for a solid minute. Evelynn was the first to recover, cautiously speaking in English, since that was a language they seemed to have in common.

"Hi. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the stranger said, sounding dazed.

She met Evelynn's eyes.

And she turned bright red, burying her face into Ppopgi's shoulder.

"No, I'm not fine!" she shouted. "This isn't how this is supposed to happen! You caught me on a really bad day, I'm so sorry. I'm all sweaty from running, and, and I just started my new job and it's stressing me out, my soul marks have been acting crazy, and it's laundry day so I'm wearing something really dorky, and—!"

Tilting her head to the side, Evelynn could barely make out the design on the stranger's shirt. "It's not dorky. I like Pentakill, too."

Not able to follow along, Ahri made a noise when she heard one familiar word out of all the English.

"Why are you talking about Pentakill?" she said in Korean, pulling Evelynn down to whisper into her ear. "Get it together and ask her for her name!"

"She's freaking out right now, I'm trying to be gentle," Evelynn explained. "Shit. I never thought I'd have to play translator for my own soul mate."

"Um, I can understand you," the stranger said, also in Korean. Finally, she got up to her feet and started dusting herself off. Ppopgi forced her head under the stranger's hand, demanding to be pet even now.

She took a deep breath.

"My name is Kai'sa. And I guess...I'm..." her eyes flickered from one woman to the other, cheeks still pink with embarrassment. "Your soul mate?"

"Just be cool, Ahri, be cool."

Ahri kept repeating it to herself. She repeated it all morning as they got ready for work. She muttered it on the train, low enough that only Evelynn could hear. She sang it as she got dressed in the evening, a growing pile of discarded dresses on the bed as she tried to decide on one.

"Just be cool, Ahri," she said to her reflection, holding up a pair of earrings to see if it matched her outfit. "Be cool."

"Be cool Ahri," she muttered until Evelynn told her to stop, because she was applying Ahri's lipstick and didn't want to mess it up.

"Be cool!" she squeaked as they got off the train that evening and walked to Kai'sa's apartment. "Be cool!"

"Ahri," Evelynn finally said, her patience shredded paper-thin.

Ahri whirled on her. "What?!"

"...I need to double check the directions," Evelynn answered. "Are we headed the right way?"

Ahri took a moment, letting the words register. "Oh. U-uh, I think so." With shaking hands, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and checked. "Yes, we'll be there in five minutes."

All the blood drained from her face, once the words sunk in.

"Ahri," Evelynn said warningly, but it was too late.

"I can't do this." Ahri turned around and tried to run back to the train station, but Evelynn grabbed her by the elbow and started dragging her along. "Agh! Evelynn, no! I can't do this!"

"You made me promise to not let you wriggle out of this," Evelynn reminded her. "Relax. We're just meeting our soul mate for dinner, not marrying her. It'll be totally painless."

Ahri's hands flailed. "But what if she doesn't like me? What if she thinks I'm boring? What if she, what if she's decided that my animal is a predator so that means I'm a serial killer?"

"Mine is a predator, too?" Evelynn's forehead wrinkled.

"Okay, but— "

Evelynn dragged her the rest of the way, no matter how hard she dug her heels in. Once they stood in front of Kai'sa's apartment, Ahri stared at the door and vibrated in place. But eventually, she was the one who reached out and knocked first.

"Coming!" Kai'sa called from inside. "Just a second!"

"Do I look okay?" Ahri whispered as they waited.

Evelynn took her hand, squeezing it. "You look beautiful."

"You always say that. You're my wife, you're biased."

She couldn't fight down the flicker of irritation that bloomed in her. "Then why bother asking me?"

"Because— oh!"

The door opened, and Kai'sa welcomed them inside.

"Hello! It's so nice to see you again." Kai'sa beamed.

"And with all of us wearing real clothes," Evelynn agreed, intending to tease, but not expecting Kai'sa to turn bright red. Interesting. Taking off her shoes, Evelynn peeked further inside to see a minimalist apartment, the walls covered with black and white photography.

Stiff and robotic, Ahri held up a bouquet of lilies. "These... these.... theseareforyou."

Those were the first and last words Ahri said for a solid hour. After finding a vase for the flowers, they got to know each other better. Kai'sa and Evelynn slowly felt each other out, sharing the stories of how they found their soul marks. Dinner was a blend of South African and Korean cuisine, and Kai'sa cracked open a few bottles of local beer to go along with it. She served them both, and Ahri finally managed to squeak out thank you.

Evelynn didn't know what had gotten into her wife. Shy was the last word she'd ever use to describe Ahri, and it wasn't as though she dreaded meeting their soul mate. She'd been so excited she couldn't sleep. Now however, faced with the reality of it, Ahri looked like she was going through years of panic in the space of a single evening.

Evelynn was suddenly glad she's taken her time coming to terms with the idea, because Ahri clearly still had some hangups.

"Let me take that," Ahri offered, gathering up the dishes and taking them to the sink before Kai'sa could even say anything.

Their soul mate— that was still a fun phrase to think about— looked after her with concern. With a polite smile to Evelynn, she got up as well and went to help her. Rubbing her forehead with the back of one hand, Evelynn just finished her drink in peace, listening to the two of them awkwardly try to talk.

"You really don't need to," Kai'sa said from the kitchen, faint over the sound of running water.

"Well, you cooked." She hated hearing Ahri sound so small. "Usually when Eve cooks, I'll clean. And vice versa."

"But I wanted to take care of you."

The water hissed, small clinking sounds of bowls and spoons and chopsticks drowning out anything else. If they said anything else at all, that is. Evelynn had a feeling they didn't until her wife curiously ventured out, "Where did you get that photo?"

Evelynn paused in the middle of pouring herself another drink, listening closer now.

"This one?" She head a faint thump, a tap of something hitting the wall. "My dad took it. He was into cinema, too."

"It's really good. Do you know what kind of camera he used?" The sink turned off, and their voices rang out much clearer. Something shredded between them, finally something in common that they were comfortable talking about, something not too personal but still opened the door.

"I don't, unfortunately." Kai'sa sounded genuinely disappointed. "Do you like photography?"

"I love it!" Even if she couldn't see her, Evelynn could hear the smile in Ahri's voice. "It's kind of how I got my job, though I don't actually take as many photos as I used to. Right now it's a lot of managing other people's photos for the magazine."

Kai'sa hummed with interest. "Which magazine? Maybe I read it!"

She finally laughed, her relief tangible. "Maybe!"

Ahri started talking about her job as a photo editor and art director, how her job pulled her twelve different ways at once. Fashion and beauty were her life, ephemeral and constantly changing, always challenging her, but also bringing a lot of joy.

"I'm a gremlin," Kai'sa was lamenting. "I work freelance from home. So I lock myself up in a dark cave twelve hours a day and don't have any time to make friends."

Gathering up the beer cans, Evelynn finally dared go in there to interrupt them. She needed to know where the recycling bin was, and now that the ice had melted a bit, maybe all three of them could enjoy a normal conversation. It figured Ahri just needed some time alone to be comfortable with Kai'sa. Ahri worked best when talking one-on-one with a new client. Getting to know her soul mate must have operated on basically the same level.

So Evelynn walked into the kitchen, catching another snippet of conversation—

"That doesn't have to be true anymore," Ahri said. Evelynn's eyes dropped down to see her wife taking Kai'sa's hand in both of hers. "I know this is all happening really fast, but I'm so excited to finally meet you. I can't wait to spend more time with you."

She squeezed Kai'sa's hand, her expression earnest and open.

And Kai'sa looked like the words broke her, leaving her in absolute agony.

"I can't wait anymore, either."

So Kai'sa leaned down, and kissed her so hard she nearly bent Ahri over the kitchen counter.

A shocked moan left Ahri's lips. The sound sent a frisson of electricity down the back of Evelynn's neck, and again when she saw Kai'sa's tongue work into Ahri's open mouth, flashing red and wet. They clung to each other, airtight. Ahri responded eagerly; her hands vanished underneath Kai'sa's dress to pull her onto her thigh.

Their chemistry was red-hot, undeniable even just as an observer. Evelynn could feel it like a bonfire, blazing wide enough to make her squint, the flames licking her face. They were already moving together, Kai'sa's hips rolling as she rocked onto Ahri's thigh, gasping into her mouth.

Evelynn's grip tightened, aluminium crumpling in her hands. Loud as a gunshot compared to the sounds of the two women quietly, frantically trying to fuck each other.

They both froze, heads twitching towards the intrusion. Ahri was glassy-eyed, lips wet and face flushed. But Kai'sa just studied Evelynn, unreadable and waiting.

"Don't mind me," Evelynn said. Or she tried to say it, it felt more like a hum, a purr. Right then there was nothing she wanted more than to knead her nails into something like a pleased cat.

Catching her breath, Ahri kept Kai'sa at arm's length. "Wait, wait. Maybe we should stop."

She didn't sound like she wanted to stop, or act like it. Her hands were willfully disobedient, moving up to frame Kai'sa's collarbone, to cup her face in both hands. Kai'sa flinched at the contact before melting into the touch. She squirmed, instinct driving her to arch her hips closer until she was pressed against Ahri right where she needed her.

"I don't want to rush you." Ahri was panting now, eyes blown wide with lust. "I thought— I thought maybe you might want to take it slow."

Kai'sa tangled her hands into Ahri's long hair, holding her by the scalp. Her grip slowly tightened until she had Ahri moaning and twisting for more friction, whimpering her name.

"Ahri." Gentle, but with a longing so deep it cut Evelynn right to the bone. "I've been waiting years for you."

Trembling, Evelynn dropped everything to move closer. She kissed the base of Kai'sa's neck, sliding down the zipper on her dress. Kai'sa stepped out of it, quickly overwhelmed by Evelynn and Ahri working her between them. Any lingering hesitation melted instantly when Ahri demanded to be taken to the bedroom, her nails digging crescent moons into Evelynn's skin.

No words then, at least none that really mattered. Not until Evelynn kissed her once more and tasted tears, hot and wet.

"Don't stop," Kai'sa begged her, breath hitching on another sob. With her head between Kai'sa's thighs, Ahri's hands caged her hips, keeping her pressed flat against the mattress. Evelynn took a softer approach, kissing her gently as Ahri vented out years of longing onto Kai'sa's skin. "Oh g- god, Evelynn, please don't stop, I was so alone— so lonely—"

"Shh." Evelynn kissed her cheek, stretched out next to her. "It's okay."

Kai'sa just nodded, eyes screwed shut. Shuddering until it was all over, and there was nothing left but bliss. Left limp, bent, wrung out, their bodies seemed heavier, still as dense fog. When Kai'sa spoke, the words had to carve their way into the darkness to be heard, stroking fingers over the life lines of their palms, exhaustion bringing its own strange clarity.

"I always knew one day you'd find me."

Evelynn kept her hand on the back of Kai'sa's head, kissed her sweaty brow before tucking it against her chest. Reaching over her, she brushed Ahri's soft shoulder to reassure herself that her wife was still there, coiled around Kai'sa like she never wanted to let go.

The next morning, Evelynn woke up with the dawn. Sensing they weren't alone, she rubbed her eyes and sat up a little, not wanting to wake her soul mates. But of course the movement stirred them. Ahri always woke up early, and it seemed Kai'sa was a light sleeper.

"We have an audience," Evelynn said quietly, huffing with amusement.

Peeking over the edge of the mattress were two foxes, two snakes, and a Chinese water deer.

"Out," Kai'sa groaned, head muffled under the pillow. "Shoo!"

They all vanished, scooting off or slipping back into wherever souls went when they were at rest.

Just as Evelynn was beginning to think she needed to invest in a barn house, the soul marks stopped coming back. One by one, they sunk into the energy of the world around them. One would walk through an open doorway and not emerge on the other side. The other would sink into the shadows, yellow eyes gleaming until she blinked, and there was nothing but a vague comforting presence. She felt scales slink around her wrist, but when she looked down, nothing was there.

There were days when she missed them, when she needed the reassurance of their physical presence. The proof of her soul marks in their eyes. On those days she'd awaken covered in a pile of fur and scales and Ppopgi licking her chin. She'd stare at the ceiling and try to be annoyed, even if she was inwardly delighted.

They weren't really animals, she kept reminding herself. They weren't pets. They were a part of her, so they were never really gone. Now that Kai'sa, Evelynn, and Ahri were finally together, their souls were whole.

Their job was done. If they were needed, they'd come back.

And that should have been the end of it.

Until one morning she walked into the kitchen and there was an African bullfrog on the kitchen table.

"What," Evelynn said, stopping dead in her tracks. "Is that?!"

Kai'sa blinked, pulling her breakfast away and swallowing. "An avocado smoothie?"

"Not that." She pointed at the creature lounging on top of their table. It was a frog— but maybe that word was too generous. It was a monster. It was loathsome. It was the fattest, soggiest, roundest, ugliest little gremlin she'd ever laid her eyes on. Her temperature spiked, head pounding like it might shatter like untempered glass. "That! That thing on the table where we eat!"

"Oh, that," Kai'sa said, shrugging. "Another soul marked animal. I was waiting for you two to wake up before we talked about it."

Kai'sa reached out, grinning as she poked the frog on top of his head.

In response, the frog opened his mouth, and squealed .

In that instant, Evelynn was pretty sure her sanity cracked right in half.

"Nope," she said, snatching him up.

"Eve—" Kai'sa started, but she had already left the kitchen.

"Nope," Evelynn said, opening the front door.

She heard Ahri's voice behind her. "Ew! What is that?!"

"He's a bullfrog," Kai'sa supplied, unhelpfully.

"Nope," Evelynn said, and she deposited the animal on the ground outside her apartment, and she began to scold it. "Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Not happening. You turn your ass around right the fuck now and you hop away. I'm all full up on girlfriends, I don't need any more! Go back to the celestial bureaucracy or whoever it is that makes these decisions and you tell them to shove it—"

"Eve!" Ahri gasped behind her, absolutely scandalized once she put two and two together. "You can't talk to it that way!"

"It's my soul mark," Evelynn snapped. "I can talk to it however I like."

"Actually," Kai'sa said, poking her head out the doorway. "I think it's mine."

Moving around her wife, Ahri crouched down in front of the frog. "Hey buddy," she said, carefully picking him up. He allowed it, throat bobbing rapidly. "Aw, hey, you really are my buddy. He's definitely got my soul mark on him, Kai'sa."

"That can't be true. I saw my— " Evelynn started, then stopped. She covered her mouth with one hand, like she could prevent the truth from slipping out.

There was a fourth soul mate.

Holding the frog aloft, Evelynn tried to reason with her partners. "Look at this thing. It's repulsive. Do we even want whoever this soul belongs to?!"

"What's wrong with him?" Ahri asked. "At first glance he's a little weird, but..."

Rattling off her points, Evelynn dropped the frog onto the table and counted them off on her fingers. "He's slimy. He's ugly. He's got a smug little grin on his face. He's a frog!"

Primly, Ahri crossed her arms. "And yours was a snake, Evelynn. Don't be so quick to judge."

"Snakes are cute! And they're good luck!"

"I think frogs are cute." Kai'sa sounded defensive.

Ahri carefully bent down so that she could be on eye level with him. He squatted on the kitchen table, that big shit eating grin on his face, and Evelynn thought she might blow a gasket. When Ahri carefully picked him up, he looked even fatter and more bulbous, a big wet blister sack in her hands.

Evelynn shuddered. "We're not doing this. I don't need another soul mate!"

Concerned, Ahri and Kai'sa shared a glance. A flicker of communication shot across that short distance, both of them weighing what they wanted to say. A slight tilt of her head; Ahri bowed out to let Kai'sa take the lead.

"I know," Kai'sa said. "You're strong. Out of all of us, you've always been the one who had her head screwed on the tightest."

Suspicious of the praise, Evelynn eyed her warily. "I don't need another soul mate," she said again, firmer now, thinking she couldn't make this more clear.

"I know," she repeated her answer, softer. But then Kai'sa rested her fingertips on Evelynn's forearm, following it up with the clincher. "But Eve...what if she needs you?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Everything short-circuited in her brain, no doubt helped by the fact that Kai'sa was the one telling her this. Kai'sa, who had been so lonely and sad by herself while Ahri and Evelynn at least had each other. Now she was reminded that somewhere out there, a person was waiting for them.

"Fuck," Evelynn said, and she hated the blaze of triumph and delight in Kai'sa's eyes. "Okay. Fine. You win."

They set aside a portion of their savings to pay for a private investigator. After explaining the situation, they sat back and waited, getting to know their new partner by the animal fate had sent.

He was a chunky little guy, goofy-looking and strong and foul-tempered and always ready to fight. While he never openly sought affection, he was always patient when they decided to pick him up or stroke his head. He had an independent streak a mile wide, and when they couldn't find him in the apartment, he could often be spied swimming in the community pool. He was a nuisance, at best. There was no way they could give him a serious name. Not ever.

So they called him Burger.

"You're god's prank on me," Evelynn said, crouched down to be at eye level with him. "Yeah, you're a big sick joke of the universe."

Burger's throat filled up, wet eyes blinking a few times.

She had no idea what a fucking frog was supposed to teach her.

The investigator turned up empty-handed at first. Just when Evelynn resigned herself to the fact that she might have to wait years for this one, too, they got a call.

"Found her," Evelynn said, clenching her fist and shaking it in the air. "The mystery is solved! We're finding this little shit, here and now!"

"You don't know she's a little shit," Ahri protested.

Burger squealed, and Evelynn just gave her a look.

They set up a meeting via an internet chat, on a day when all three of them could be home.

The webcam opened up to a tiny apartment, the walls plastered with posters, pictures, albums, two guitars, and a cheesecake swimsuit calendar. A baseball cap filled most of her range of vision, and for a split second Evelynn wondered in horror if their soul mate was actually a thirteen year old boy.

Then Akali pulled back to frown into the lens of the camera, her chin jutted out like she was ready to start an argument already, and Evelynn knew. She recognized that glower.

"Hey," Akali said, and a bright red vixen hopped onto her lap. She was almost as beautiful as Ahri, a classic red fox with an ink-dipped, fluffy tail. She snuffled the camera curiously until Akali held her back, cuddled in her arms. As soon as she did that, though, a spiky, sinister-looking snake popped out of the hood on her jacket. He was striking in his own way, dangerous and sharp, then silly as he also tried to bump his nose against the camera. "Um, it's nice to meet you. Pickle, please get down, I only have so many hands."

The snake coiled up Akali's neck, his tongue flickering in her ear instead. She twitched, biting her lip. Almost a smile. She seemed to be fighting it.

"Oh no," Ahri murmured beside her. "She's cute."

It was awkward, in no small part due to how reluctant Akali was to speak. She didn't seem pleased by any of this, guarded and withdrawn in the face of her soul mates.

So much for needing me, Evelynn thought, a little bitterly.

"Do you, um, do you have a deer as well?" Kai'sa asked at one point, sounding shy.

That was the first time they saw Akali smile. "Yeah. One second, you'll love him."

Bending down, Akali emerged from under her desk with the smallest deer Evelynn had ever seen. She removed her keyboard to let him stand on the desk, tail fluttering as he curiously started licking the camera. He had a wriggly nose, twitching at every scent, two tiny horns, big eyes, and a little mouth that always looked like he was smiling.

"A fawn?" Evelynn asked, suddenly wondering if they had done this too fast after all. If maybe Akali needed more time to grow into this, just like she had.

But Akali shook her head. "Fully grown. He's a dik-dik antelope, this is as big as they ever get."

"That's so cute I might literally cry," Ahri said, looking ready to bite down on her own fist to keep from doing just that. "I really dig his eyeliner."

"Huh?" Akali turned the animal around to get a better look at him. "Oh! Heh, yeah, I guess he does look like he's wearing eyeliner." She stroked a finger over his face, tracing the dark marking around his eyes. "Weird question, Kai'sa, but do you like strawberries?"

Kai'sa nodded, so Akali told them to wait again and returned with a strawberry sliced up on a napkin. "He goes nuts over them," she explained, letting the dik-dik nibble on the treat. "The other two get frozen rats every now and then, when I have extra cash."

"Hold on." Evelynn leaned closer, frowning. "You feed them? You know they don't need food, right?"

That guarded expression returned, Akali's good mood hunkering down like a crouching animal. "And?"

Evelynn realized she didn't really have a point. "Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you weren't wasting any money on me."

A familiar stubborn set entered Akali's jaw. "Who gives a shit if they need it? It makes them happy, and it makes me happy to spoil them. They belong to my soul mates, and whether or not I asked for them, they came to me, so they're my responsibility. If I don't treat them right as often as I can, what does that say about me?"

Muscling past her knee-jerk assumptions, Evelynn studied Akali carefully. Slowly, it all unwound in her mind. "...It says a lot."

Piece by piece, she started to understand.

Like a flower unfurling in her, like a lock dropping to the floor, she felt the last guarded segment of her heart open up.

"Say, Akali."

Evelynn relaxed, her gentle tone making Akali lean forward to listen carefully, some of her guard dropping as well.

"...Would you like to come over for dinner next weekend?"

Look not in my eyes, for fear Thy mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me.

—Alfred Edward Housman

#fanfiction #league of legends #KDA

138 notes · View notes

team-free-squiggle · 6 years

Note

SOFT SNEK BOI DECEIT???? (do with this what you will)

Ask 2: I imagine it right before Christmas, Patton wants to be invite him dinner with him and the others, even though Virgil does not like the idea very much. Patton finds him in his room under a billion blankets trembling. He obviously lies and says he is fine, well, he attemps to say between sneezes. The rest is all yours ;]

Thank you to both of you, I can’t wait to write this finally! (I really apologize for how long it took)

Fandom: Thomas Sanders

Prompt: the Above

Characters: Patton Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders

Pairings: none, platonic DLAMP, mainly platonic Patceit, platonic Anxceit

Warnings: Deceit, snakes, colds (the weather and the sickness)

~~It was the first real snowfall of the winter. Most of the Sides loved it. Roman could create sculptures and forts out of the snow. Patton loved how pretty everything looked covered in the white stuff, especially when the right amount of sunlight made the snow sparkle gently. Virgil loved the calming aspect of watching it float down, the grey sky feeling protective and cool to him. He and Logan also loved that it gave them excuses to wear the sweaters Roman and Patton had made them.

So while Roman and Patton would remake the Vine Thomas did (Baby it’s cold outside, I’m gay and you’ll die outside), and Virgil and Logan sat and read/listened to music by a roaring fire as cookies were baking in a nearby oven, everything was peaceful. Their Christmas tree was already decorated, all of them, even Deceit having had a hand in it. It looked beautiful - Red, Light Blue, Dark Blue, Purple, and Yellow lights hung in between the branches and the multitude of bulbs and pictures and Disney and Tim Burton ornaments. It was their own little FamILY tree.

Everything was literally picture perfect, and dinner was ready. There were 5 spots at the table - one for all the Sides in the house - and 3 of them were filled as Patton brought out the spaghetti he had made for them. Patton frowned - Logan, Roman, and Virgil were all there, but Deceit wasn’t. Then as Patton thought more about it, as he filled each of the plates, he hadn’t seen Deceit all day.

“Guys?” The other three stopped their chattering to look at Patton questioningly.

“What is it Padre?” Roman asked around a mouthful of food, receiving an elbow from Logan for that.

“Has anyone seen Deceit today? I want him to have dinner with us.” Logan and Roman shook their head as Virgil sighed.

“That might not be the best idea, Patton.” Virgil tried to let Patton down gently, knowing what was most likely happening with his old friend.

“Now kiddo, you know that’s what Roman used to say about you, and I invited you down anyway. I’m not gonna leave you or him out.” Patton looked at Virgil sternly.

“Look, Patton, he’s a snake. He’s cold-blooded, literally, I’m not trying to be mean here. He’s probably holed up in his room, under a million and 5 blankets with a cold. That’s why I don’t want him down here - he’s probably sick, Patton.” Patton was up and out of the room before Virgil even finished.

Roman and Logan sniggered at Virgil’s utterly done expression.

“It’s Patton, did you really expect anything less?” Logan smirked, making Virgil kick him as Roman laughed and ate more spaghetti.

Meanwhile, the parental side ran up the stairs, to Deceit’s room. He knocked on the door, hearing a muffled groan from the other side. That settled it. Patton barged in, and awwed at the scene.

Virgil had been right. Deceit was under all of his blankets, and most of the other Side’s. Yet he was still shivering.

“Oh, Dee.” Patton moved, making the other side hiss. Patton giggled.

“We have a fire downstairs - don’t worry, it’s in the fireplace - and I made spaghetti for dinner, it’s fresh and warm, and we have more blankets and we have sweaters for you.” Patton said, grabbing extra tissues and garbage bags and teleporting them downstairs by the couch with a snap of his fingers.

Deceit’s head perked up out of the blankets.

“I - cough cough - would totally not be interested in any of that.” The Side tried for a smile, but ended up coughing more. Patton sat beside him and reached underneath the blankets, gently scratching at the scales on Deceit’s back. The snake-like side stiffened for a minute, before relaxing against Patton. The Moral Side smiled, using the opportunity to snap away the blankets and move them downstairs to the couch too.

Before Deceit could protest, Patton had him wrapped up in Patton’s (surprisingly warm) cat hoodie, about 3 robes, and had picked him up so that Deceit was curled into Patton’s arms and chest.

Deceit really hated it. It was the worst feeling in the world to him.

Patton smiled as he felt Deceit curl closer, and carefully made his way downstairs with the snek still in his arms (and bleping at the smell of fresh spaghetti. He really had always hated Patton’s cooking).

“Look who I found!” Patton called out in a sing-songy voice, giggling at Deceit’s glare. They both heard the other sides giggling too, making Deceit glare at Patton even more.

Patton took Deceit gayly to the couch, putting the blankets back around him and getting him his dinner.

“This is horrible Patton, I will not say thank you for this monstrousity of a dinner.” The fatherly side heard a snek from the living room say as he walked back to eat his own dinner with his other kiddos.

“You’re very welcome, Deceit!” Patton called back happily.

And since they knew Deceit hated the cold (and by extension, the snow), after dinner, the other sides turned the heat as high as they could stand it and cuddled with Deceit on the couch as they watched amazing Christmas movies.

Somewhere in the middle of Miracle on 34th Street, Patton looked around, and realized his kiddos were all asleep. He couldn’t help but smile.

Logan was tucked into Roman’s chest, a couple blankets on them. Virgil was leaning towards Patton, but still had his legs mixed up with Logan’s. Deceit had the most blankets and pillows of all of them, but he needed them. The side was curled against Virgil happily, right in between/on top of Virgil’s and Logan’s legs. Patton himself was busying his hands by playing with Virgil’s hair, happily eating a cookie and drinking his hot chocolate with the warmth of his FamILY and the light of their Christmas tree to keep him company.

I hope this was good!!!

Tag List

(Sanders Sides)

@astraastro

@madly-handsome

@amber1594

@lie-lie-birdy

@thebaagelboy

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

@ravenclawunicorn1

@ako1209

@princessbelix

@water13girl

@romanasanders

@deathshadowrules

@virgils-jacket

@fandomsofrandom

@cochroachkappa-blog

@zoeyheys

@chipminkle

@6tick6tock6

@maizieandbirds

@panic-at-theeverywhere

@not-my-patton

@cookieturtleart123

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@generalfandomfabulousness

@thegirlofwolvesandfangs

@toujours-fidele

@light-it-on-fire

@ghostmaster83

@bubblycricket

(All)

@birdybabybird

@awesomelissawho

@funsizedgremlin

@surviving-an-ocean-of-fandoms

@teacupfulofstarshine

@am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell

#prompt #symp. dee #deceit centered #angel writes #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fics

98 notes · View notes

orionwhispers · 6 years

Text

Devil Like Me (Part XV)

(A/N well.... it’s been a long ass time hasn’t it?? Finally... here is the long awaited part 15 to devil like me. It’s been blood sweat and tears writing this bitch of a chapter but I hope it doesn’t disappoint! It’s quite gory so beware of that, and PLS send me feedback it means the world and really helps with my writing. Love you all and I promise to not take literal months next time )

The first rays of morning sun danced across your cheekbones, flitting over your face and making you sleepily blink your eyes open. It took you a few moments to adjust to your surroundings, darting awake as you realised you weren't in your own bed, your hands gripping to the unfamiliar sheets for some form of stability. The blanket dropped from your chest and a slight breeze attacked your bare flesh and you blushed crimson, smiling into yourself as hazy memories began to form in your mind.

Oh, right.

Vivid pictures of the evening before flashed in your head, the party, the Witch and her brutal attack, and finally, spending the night with Klaus. You shrugged on the clothes he had leant you previously, enjoying the comfort they gave your cold skin, as you ran your hand timidly over the dip in the mattress beside you, still warm from his frame. You grinned childishly in your palms as the cool air nipped at the delicate skin of your neck and the soft kisses left there prior that had now faded into blissful memories.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you left the room, trying to be as quiet as possible as you entered the kitchen, smiling at a domestic looking Klaus, hunched over a mug of coffee and typing on his phone. A blur of sudden awkward anxiety flowed through you, unsure about how to approach after the events that had unfolded in the room just behind you, but any unease disappeared immediately as he glanced up, offering you a sleepy grin, confident and toothy. You almost melted at the sight but regained your composure as quick as you lost it, mirroring his reaction and slinking forward.

“I hope you haven’t been up too long.”

He smirks, gesturing to his phone, “Duty calls, sorry.”

You slide into the chair opposite, watching as he lifts himself up, filling a mug with piping hot coffee and sliding it under your nose. You smile in thanks, hiding the curve of your lips with the edge of the cup, “I was worried. Thought you might have done a runner.”

His eyes lazily dart across the exposed flesh nipping from under your shirt, smiling genuinely as he took a sip of his own drink, the stream twirling around the room. “Now, why on Earth would I do that?”

You shrug, quirking a brow. Klaus’ phone chimes and he offers a small nod of apology as he reaches it, his slender fingers trawling along the screen. You both fall into a comfortable and familiar silence, listening to the sound of the coffee machine whirring slightly as Klaus frowns at his phone, irritation evident on his face.

“Something wrong?’ The Witch immediately comes into your thoughts, her crooked teeth and vulgar eyes protruding into your mind, but you brush her off not wanting to ruin your mood. Klaus must sense your anxiety though, as he pushes the device deep into the pocket of his jeans without a second thought.

“No. Nothing of any concern, just idiots being idiots.” You smile at his phrasing, watching as he drinks, a smirk tugging at his pink lips. “So, how did you sleep?”

“No better than usual.” You lie, it was the best sleep you had had in years.

“I find that hard to believe.”

You blush at his domineering gaze, thinking of your tangled bodies and sweaty skin, soft hands and hard kisses. You divert your eyes, listening as he chuckles, knowing he is thinking the exact same as you.

“Oh shit!” You sit up straight, the morning sun suddenly waking you from your daze, “What time is it?”

“Just gone nine, don’t worry I know your Ceremony is at eleven. As tempting as it is, I wasn’t planning on holding you hostage all day.”

You laugh, liking the idea yourself, but knowing that Jasmine and Aunt Jean would kill you if you missed any of the festivities. Thinking of the two of them you run a hand through your hair, wavy and knotted from sleep. You groan, “I should probably start heading back, I need to get ready.”

He nods, getting up slowly and approaching you, even as comfortable as you are around him, you shrink at his presence. He notices and smirks smugly, his nimble hands darting out to pinch the bare flesh around your hips and you yelp playfully, he presses intoxicating kisses across your neck and you drown in them completely.

"You don't have to leave just yet, do you love?" —

You adjusted your gown, lifting the hem to stop it trailing along the pine flooring. You could hear the commotion outside, mixed with the chatter and laughter of your peers around you, lining up eagerly, ready to accept your diplomas. You feel two hands snake around your waist, immediately recognising the bubblegum scent and spinning to meet Jasmine's wide smile. She shrieked and pulled you into her arms, spinning you around with glee.

“There you are!” She holds you at arm's length, her cap tilting against her corkscrew curls, bouncing with her movements.

“Here I am!”

“I was worried! You left so suddenly last night!”

“Yeah, sorry about that! I should have said goodbye.”

She nods, running her finger along her lips, cleaning up the smudges of hot pink lipstick. “It’s Ok, I was kind of shitty - I’ve been spending so much time with Greg..”

You immediately cut her off, not wanting her to feel any guilt, especially with all the secrets you have been keeping from her. “Jas, shut up.” She laughs, knocking into you with a smile, but her eyes suddenly trail across your body, her cat-like features changing with confusion as she runs her tongue along the roof of her mouth.

“What?” You ask self consciously, running a hand over your gown to check for loose threads or stains.

She quirks a brow, shaking her head and pursing her lips. “I dunno, you look… different.” She reaches forward, her rose gold glittery nails pinching the apples of your cheeks teasingly as you squirm from her grip. “You’re glowing!” You scoff and tilt away with a giggle, unable to hide the crimson blush forming along your chest and cheeks, hoping that she thinks its just a natural flush from the humid summer air. Memories of the night before sprout in your brain and you momentarily cringe at your best friends intuition, wondering how even her bloodhound like senses can detect something so private.

You shake your head inwardly, hiding behind your hand, “Oh yeah.. had too much to drink, I guess.” The lie slips out easily and you hope its convincing enough, luckily, Jasmine smiles, shrugging her shoulders, “Whatever it is! You look great.”

You try to think of something to say to change the subject away from your new glow, but your brain can only conjure up thoughts of the night before. Luckily, Mrs Browne, the deputy headmaster enters the stuffy back room, smiling hugely at the students as she announces that it’s finally time to walk the stage. Jasmine links her arm with yours, the familiar weight an immediate comfort as she inhales deeply and murmurs,

“Showtime.”

It seems strange and a little insulting to endure four years of hell and only walk through with a slip of paper that could possibly affect the rest of your working life, however, you can’t help but smile with glee as your friends and peers walk across the stage. The sun is hot and the football field is packed with family members and fellow students, all clapping and cheering, you stretch onto your tiptoes to try and catch a glimpse of any faces you recognise but the line is too long to get a proper look.

It isn’t until your name is called, and you stride along the stage, heels clacking against the woodwork and you shake the headmaster's hand, that you get a proper look at the crowd. Amongst the hoards of people, you spot Aunt Jean. In her hand she has her ancient camcorder, shaky fingers capturing the moment, a wide smile of pride on her face and her eyes teary. You mirror her and you can’t help the unexpected wave of emotion, along with Jasmine’s distinguishable squeal as she whoops and cheers in pride as you accept the diploma. A streak of blonde waves catch your eyes momentarily, and your heart soars as you recognise the undeniably beautiful figure towards the back, eyes boring into yours, lips curled into a signature smirk as he claps slowly. Nobody else has recognised him, too engulfed in their own happiness, but he’s all you can see. You smile, one that's directed solely at him as you walk off the stage.

You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts, you hardly recognise the black ringlets passing through the crowd.

——

The shower is warm and inviting, and you obnoxiously blurt out song lyrics as you douse your body with marshmallow scented lotion. Happiness radiates through the bathroom like the rays of sunlight that dance along the floor, you finally made it. As you dry your body with a towel and step out into the bathroom, you pause, taking a moment to wipe down the steamy mirror and look at your reflection. To the normal eye you look the same, same features, same hair, same blemishes, but deep down you can see the twinkle in your eyes, the glow of your skin, and even though the bruises have faded - the resilience of a warrior. You had been through so much already, and the darkness had almost won, but you fought through it, but above all, you were just a teenager in love.

You sing along to music as you slip on your underwear, brushing out your hair and throwing on an old t-shirt to do your makeup. You’re in the process of unzipping your cosmetics bag when a knock at your bedroom door makes you turn your head.

“Come in!”

Aunt Jean walks in, the cat at her heels and a rectangle in-between her frail hands.

“You Ok?” You ask after a moment of silence, she raises a teasing eyebrow as you sit on the bed, tilting your head at her demeanour.

“This came for you.” She passes the rectangle towards you, and it’s only then that you realise its a present. A crimson red box with your name written in gold cursive, simple and elegant, undeniably from one person in particular. Your breath stammers as you try to act nonchalant,

“Oh yeah! I ordered this a while ago - I completely forgot about it! Thanks!”

She rolls her eyes and puts a shaky hand on her slim hip, “Now, I know I’m getting old but I’m not senile just yet young lady.” You pause, gauging her reaction, but she smiles cheekily and flicks your nose playfully. “I will always know what’s going on, I have a third eye for these things. You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking around?”

You don’t know what to say, embarrassed at your lack of secrecy and also widely amused that your elderly Aunt had known this whole time. She laughs, turning to leave before offering a raspy, “He’s very handsome, I caught a glimpse of him that night on the porch.” You nod, agreeing, but blushing beet red. “But mind - he won’t be so pretty if I find out he hurts you... and you can tell him that.” She winks and kisses your hair, taking your head in her hands before swiftly leaving, making you break out into peals of laughter and love.

The gift is laying on top of your covers, and you take a moment to admire its beauty. Running a finger over your name in golden cursive, you grin as you imagine him writing it out, before impatiently tearing off the ribbon and getting inside. Your heart stammers as you see whats underneath a layer of scarlet tissue paper, you run your fingers over the tiny objects and sigh deeply. Two little gold earrings in the shape of hearts, there’s no note, but you immediately see the connection and absently run your fingertips over the locket adorning your neck, tears pricking at your eyeballs. You leap off the bed and run towards the mirror, gently fastening the delicate jewellery despite your hands shaking with adrenaline, you grin wildly at your reflection, the earrings and pendant matching completely, drawing together like the missing pieces of a puzzle. Your head and stomach feel fuzzy with indescribable happiness and you jump back into bed, smiling like a maniac.

——

The last time you were at the town hall was the Christmas Party, and as you watch the chandeliers twinkle you reflect about how much has changed since then. It’s the start of summer and the sun is still high in the sky; despite it nearing half nine as people flow in and out of the hall into the manicured garden. The music is a headache-inducing loud and as the adults had flitted into the dining room to mingle, a teen had swapped the old iPod for his own phone, blasting out out a playlist of explicit filled rap.

You can see gorgeous dresses and fancy suits loaned from older siblings, the sound of glasses clinking and loud laughter. Cynthia had excelled herself, the rich housewife had lined the entire mansion and outside area with photos and collages of the past few years, electric candles and decorations of rich gold and deep blue. You mingle politely under the stars, smiling when required as teachers compliment you graduating and friends hug and gossip, sharing thoughts of the future.

“Jasmine! Hey girl!”

You spin round at the mention of her name and smile, finally feeling the anxiety leaving your stomach, getting ready to finally start the party now she was by your side. Her hair is down and curled into ringlets, falling just above the neckline of her satin olive dress, the same one she showed you the night with the crow. Despite her wide smile and bright eyes, you can tell she's hiding something, missing her usual twinkle and spark, seeming uncomfortable with the conversation surrounding her.

“Hey, Jas,” You murmur, placing an arm around her shoulders and sending an apologetic smile to the people around you, “Mr Jones said he wanted to say congrats to you, he’s in the hall I think?” You gesture to the huge house and she offers a knowing look, nodding her head and smiling goodbye to the crowd, following you up the garden path.

“Thank God for that, I’m really not in the mood right now.”

You sit on the edge of the marble sink in a bathroom on the lower floor, nestled under the stairs so you are mostly hidden from everyone. Under the fluorescent lights, you can see swollen pink under her eyes, and give her a moment to collect herself in the mirror.

“What’s up? Is it Greg?”

She sighs, sniffling slightly and fluffing up her hair with her hands. You feel terribly sad for her, wondering what on earth he has done to make her upset, “Fuck him, Jas! What did he -”

“I didn’t get into Overton.”

It takes you a second to register her words, so caught up in your anger at Greg that your brain scrambles to put the pieces together, but once you do you immediately leap to your feet, engulfing her into your arms.

“Oh, Jas.”

Overton was her dream college. It was only about an hour and a half from where you both lived, and only a fifteen-minute walk from Magnolia University, the very place you had been accepted into barely a week prior. It was something you had both spoke about since you were kids, Jasmine talking in wonderment about the fashion and beauty courses she would take, and you had always loved the English classes at Magnolia, as well as the impressive track team. When the letter came in the mail regarding your acceptance it all started to seem real, despite the nagging feeling in the back of your head that maybe college wasn’t right for you, it still felt like a massive achievement. You still had no idea how you were going to tell Klaus, it seemed so minuscule compared to everything he was dealing with, and you weren’t sure what that would mean for you both.

Regardless, you brought your attention back to the person who needed it most, squeezing her hard. She gently pushed you off, rubbing her pinky under her lash line, a small unsure smile on her lips.

“But, I did get into Jefferson.”

“Jefferson?” You ask in bewilderment, taking a moment to take it in before you finally understand, “As in, in…”

“California, yeah.” The turns back to the mirror, rummaging through her bag to avoid you and taking out a tube of concealer, smearing it under her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, its so far away. There’s no way I can..”

“Are you kidding me? You’re accepting it!”

She spins around, exhaling loudly and offering you a defeated look. “It’s on the other side of the country.”

“And?” You step forward, shaking your head, “This is amazing Jas! Jefferson has one of the best design classes, you’ll love it!”

“I’ll be thousands of miles away! I won't know anyone, I mean how can I cope without you?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, you’re the easiest person to make friends with! Remember when you befriended that old man when we ran out of gas? You’ll be fine.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but you got there first. “It’ll be scary and hard, I won’t lie. But you’ll love it, you'll make loads of new friends and be the best damn girl on that course, I know it! And as for me, I’ll be down as often as I can, you can’t keep me away. California won’t know what’s hit it.” You tease, she stills and you gently shake her shoulders, snapping her back to reality.

“You’re right.” She sniffs, fluffing her hair with her hands and pouting at her reflection in the mirror. “But, you have to promise me we call and FaceTime every day? And you come down at least once a month?”

“I’ll try, but I'm hoping not to get into debt before I can legally drink.” She rolls her eyes and wraps you into her arms, drowning you in bubblegum scented hairspray, pressing a sticky kiss onto your cheek.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, you idiot. C’mon, you should know by now that we are best friends for life! Nothing is coming between us.”

She nods, holding out her pinky and intertwining it with yours, “Best friends forever.”

—-

The dance floor shimmers a spectrum of eye-watering neon, and the music thumps so hard the painting on the walls vibrate with every drum beat. It’s a blur of hair and shoes, dresses and skirts twirling as people dance, the adults had more or less all left, just a few of the younger teachers and older siblings mingling around, trying to fit in with the teens.

The party had been going for hours, you’d all eaten, listened to rambling speeches and played a few games as the night went on. But even now, it was still in full swing and didn’t look like it was ending any time soon, not until everybody collapsed onto the sofas in exhaustion. The heat was unbearable and you shouted over to some friends that you were heading for a drink, grateful to leave the crowds and the noise.

You didn’t know your way around too well, fumbling slightly as you tried to dodge a number of people hoping to corner you, wanting to hazily reminisce about the past. You found an isolated corridor, and followed some trailing stairs to the upper floor, sliding through long hallways and empty rooms. You opened each in turn, hoping to find an unoccupied bathroom but finding mostly guest rooms and storage. The last one, however, was likened to the ballroom downstairs, massive in size, but almost completely empty, chandeliers hung from the ceilings but covered with tarp, and it looked like they were in the process of building a new bar area. You had read somewhere that Cynthia was planning on remodelling some rooms in the house, and you guessed this was one.

Most beautifully though, were large glass doors that opened to a winding Juliet balcony. Unable to fight the urge, you tried the handles and smiled when they clicked open, spreading out into the night air, despite a small moan of resistance. Instantly it takes your breath away. You can see miles of pitch black night sky and twinkling stars, the moon full and plump like a saucer of milk, reminiscent of a cartoon from when you were a child. The railing is made of thick rich stone and is twisted and tall, you approach it slowly and it just reaches under your chest, stopping you from walking out into the air.

One glance down and you inhale sharply, never before being too afraid of heights that the sheer drop below makes your chest tighten. You can see the entire garden, manicured and lush, the lights like fireflies and small gatherings of mingling people down below, looking tiny from your perspective. You are enchanted by the sight, thankful for a moment alone until the creak of the door makes you spin around.

“Hello?” You call, stepping away from the railing, its silent, so you take a few steps forward, walking back into the expansive room. Silence. You shrug it off, assuming it was the wind, but still, offer, “Hell-o?”

“What the hell was that thing?”

You spin round, immediately on the defence at the sudden voice. Hackles raised and ears pricked, you meet the eyes of your intruder. James. His face is sullen, his skin a tinge of unhealthy grey with bags under his eyes that make it seem like he's been awake for weeks. His bruises have mostly faded into speckles of violet and green, but he still has a few scars prominent on his features. Around his throat is a neck brace, presumably for his shattered collarbone, and his leg is similarly plastered, despite his pathetic appearance the pure venom in his voice makes you feel intimidated.

“What was it?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me you little bitch! Tell me what attacked me!” Spittle is flying from the corners of his mouth as he hobbles towards you, veins in his face protruding as he violently enunciates every word. You look at him with disgust, refusing to be scared.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but I think you should leave, aren’t you already in enough trouble as it is?”

He scoffs, straightening himself out to the best of his ability, “You ruined my life.”

“Please, you were doing a great job of that all by yourself.” You look at him over your shoulder, tossing your hair and hitching your skirt; making your way towards the door. “If you don’t mind, I have a party to get back to.”

Before you can even take a few steps forward, you hear a low frustrated growl and the sounds of shoes scuffing against the woodwork. You can barely register what is about to happen before his body smacks into yours, sending you toppling onto the floor. You hiss with pain as your chin connects with the ground making your teeth vibrate in your mouth, you can hear the crackle of your own bones and wince at the impact. You try your best to push him off of you, but with his own mass and that of his bandages, he has a solid 50 pounds against you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You whine, trying to scramble around underneath his bodyweight, your fleet slide across the hardwood and he nestles his broken leg atop of yours, preventing you from going anywhere.

“I just want to talk! And you won’t listen!`’ You can hear him getting more and more distressed, and stop struggling for a few seconds to try and get him calm down. You can feel his chest heaving against your back, and he's emitting heat like a furnace. “Thank you. All I want to know is what that thing was that attacked me, tell me what that fucking monster was and I’ll let you go.”

“Listen, James, I have no idea what you’re -”

“Don't lie to me (Y/N)!” As he speaks he twists his calf around your thigh, pulling tight and making your muscles constrict, you let out a cry at the pain and you can sense his smug smirk. “You know what that.. that… monster was. You let everyone think you’re some kind of good girl, but I see through your act.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” You yelp through clenched teeth, even if you did tell him the truth about what happened to him that night, there was no way he could do anything about it. You can hear him growl in frustration and feel his limbs against yours, he struggles to his feet, clasping his hands through the roots of your hair and pulling you up. You yelp, unable to control your own body under his force, him slipping and struggling from his own injuries. He thrusts you against the wall with a slam, his breath inches away from your face.

“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see it! I see that thing, that demon. Tell me what it is, tell me why it helped you.” Upon your refusal to answer, he spits on the floor, raising his palm and smacking the wall by your head, inches away from making contact with your flesh. “One last chance or I swear to God..”

He’s beyond annoyed now but so are you, enraged by his ignorance and entitlement. “I don’t owe you shit James, you got everything you deserved.” With a frustrated snarl, he raises his hands, winding up before smacking his hand towards your face, you brace for the impact, the sound of skin on skin and the stinging of his palm, but instead, you hear,

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?”

One eye peels open and you watch as James is tackled to the floor, a blur of bodies and fists tangling against one another. You struggle to get a good look at your saviour, hoping for a tell-tale mass of blonde curls or ocean eyes, but you know instantly that it is not him. Any queries are quickly answered though as two slim arms dart around your shoulders, the familiar smell of sugar and spice entering your nostrils.

“Holy shit! Are you Ok?”

“Yeah... Yeah... I think so? What - how did you find me?”

Jasmine inspects your body momentarily before replying, her deep emerald eyes filled with concern and overprotectiveness. “I was looking for you, some of the girls said they saw you go upstairs so… Oh my God, Greg!”

Your eyes flash to the two boys writhing on the floor, for a second it looked as if James was on top, using his mass weight to keep Greg under him, but the Jock managed to get the upper hand, overpowering him and smashing him against the floor. Sweat and heat lingered in the air, heavy breathing as Greg scrambled to his feet, his suit and tie askew from the commotion. He offered you a small smile as he straightened himself out, keeping one eye on the man on the floor.

“You Ok?”

You nod, casting a glance at James who is struggling to lift himself from the ground. “What the hell happened?”

“No idea, I just came up here for some air and he came outta nowhere, I guess he followed me.”

Jasmine shakes her head, making her auburn hair ruffle like loose ribbons. “God you are such a creep,” She says, her face curled in disgust. “What is wrong with you? Cornering her and trying to attack her?”

“It’s alright Jas..” You begin, grateful for their help but wanting nothing more than to leave, take those closest to you and forget that any of this happened. You take her arm, motioning for the door, and she nods, catching Greg's eye as she pulls you away from the scene. You barely manage to take a few steps before a few mumbled words make you stop.

“I bet you’re in on this too Jasmine? You stuck up bitches always stick together.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Greg snapped, kicking the teens' upper jaw with enough force to send him back to the ground.

“What are you on about you psycho?”

“Don’t play dumb! I'm so sick of all of you, just tells me what it was!”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and you're more determined than ever to take Jasmine away, grasping her arm tighter as if it would protect her from his statement.

“Leave it, James.”

He scrambles back to his feet like a defensive animal and stares you down, “Why should I? I want everyone to know what you are, you think you're so innocent, but I know the truth!”

“Just shut the fuck up,” You finally snap, infuriated at him.

“James, you’re embarrassing yourself, no one has any fucking clue what you’re on about.” Greg's voice is laced with just enough humour and second-hand embarrassment that it suddenly clicks like a light switch inside of James. He takes a moment, scanning the room and the various faces with a bewildered expression.

He scoffs, shaking his head in disgust, “Holy shit. You really have no idea?” At the bemused teenagers around him he lets out a laugh, its strangled and throaty and reminds you of nails on a chalkboard. You can see Jasmine out of the cover of your eye, head tilted and eyebrows raised and you have the sudden urge to drag her down the stairs. He lifts a pointed finger to your face as he hobbles towards you, “Go on (Y/N), tell them what really happened that night.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah, leave her alone James for Christ’s sake.”

“NO.” He raises his palms to his temples as if to block out the competing voices, his face is bubbling crimson and the veins and vessels in his skin are bursting, his pupils are enlarged with anger as he spits, ‘Leave her alone? Look what she and that… that.. thing did to me!” He gestures to his casts and prominent bruises, “She has got you all wrapped around her finger with this little orphan Annie act, but really, she is an evil little bitch. She can’t get away with what she’s done to me, that night with Sarah - I bet she was involved, she knows someone.. something… it's not human and…”

“James..”

“Shut up! Will you all just shut up and listen to me, I looked at the face of a demon that night, and it was with her! It listened to her.. it was protecting her! Do you really think a human could do all this damage to me? I swear.. I'm going to get to the bottom of this and I’m going to kill it and her with my bare hands I swear to God. You can’t trust her! She -!”

Snap.

It's as simple as that. Like the sound of a cane whipping through the air, or a rubber band snapping against a wrist. One small but clear sound, as easy as a knife cutting through butter, that’s all it takes for his head to disconnect from his neck.

You can hear screaming, it could be coming from you but you’re not sure, red-hot splatters of blood are speckled across the walls around you and much to your own horror are dipping from your features. Your instinct is to find Jasmine, but she is already at your side, nestled into Greg's shoulder, them both emitting a scream so abysmally loud and full of terror it makes your hair stand on edge. You try to focus but the room is spinning, feeling faint and drowsy, tears of fear pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision.

“He was going on a bit wasn’t he?”

It doesn't take you long to register the voice, and the heat in your stomach is as acidic and vile as pure venom. The Witch.

“How could you?” Your voice is shaky and raspy, thick and icy as blankets of snow coating fields of once bloomed flowers, now dead from the chill. You hated James, you fucking despised him. But as your eyes drift to his decapitated body, lying in a pool of his own blood, as sticky and red as summer cherries, and his head as lifeless and alone as a doll, you feel sick with anger and sadness.

She feigns innocence, resting a hand over her heart, even though you're convinced she doesn't have one. “I thought I was doing you a favour?” He fingernails are long as coated in dirt, mimicking the blackness that surrounds the group of you.

‘He didn’t deserve to die.”

She rolls her eyes, and you can hear Jasmine whimpering in the background, and you just hope with everything in you that the Witch will spare her and Greg. “I'm sure if I was Klaus, you would be thanking me? You do, after all, have a way at looking past his.. tendencies.”

You don’t even need to turn around to see the look on your best friends face, you want to explain everything but right now you're far too concerned with keeping your eyes locked on the unpredictable woman before you. The mention of his name makes you flare up inside, but you resist the urge to react, wanting to let her think she has the upper hand.

“Its true isn't it?” She circles you like a lioness stalking a deer, “No matter what he does, you’ll fall at his feet like the pathetic little lamb you are.” Your heart catches in your throat as she comes closer, piercing green eyes diving into your soul. “It’s strange. I could almost say the same about him. Big bad Klaus falling onto his knees at the hands of a weak little human, who would have thought? I could almost say it was sweet, but I know better than that.”

“What the hell is going on? (Y/N)? Do you know her?” Jasmine asks, shaking in the corner but trying to remain calm.

“It’s Ok Jas,” You say, trying to sound as collected as you can muster, keeping one cautious eye on the witch and sending a what you hope is a comforting smile towards your best friend and her boyfriend.

“Oh, honey. Who do you think was in your garden that night? You think that bird just flew into the window all by itself?”

“What the -? That was you? How?” Jasmine's voice is incredulous and you can feel questions swimming around the room, ones you have no idea how to explain.

“You were in her garden? What the fuck is going on?”

“Greg,” You say, trying to remain calm and patient despite everything in you wanting to scream and shout and attack, “Please take Jasmine downstairs Ok?’ You turn to your best friend and smile weakly, “I’ll explain everything, I promise. Just go downstairs.”

“I’m not leaving you with her!”

“Jasmine! Just..”

“Enough.” The Witch says, bringing all eyes back to herself, her crooked nose is lifted high as she stares you down. “No one is leaving. I tried to warn you about what would happen if you carried on with him, but you refused to listen, now it’s time to pay the price.” She flicks her ragged hair over one shoulder, raising a brow as she turns to Jasmine, “And you.. her so-called ‘best friend’, left in the dark about who she really is, and who she has given herself to.”

“What?”

“I’ve been waiting for this you know,” She smirks, “For the truth to eventually come out, for you to reveal who you really are deep down inside.” Every word coils around you like a python, tainting you with darkness, you try to remain strong but she is breaking you down with every word that leaves her foul mouth. “Go on, tell her! Tell her all about the man you let slip inside of your bed, tell her the truth, about everything.”

“(Y/N)?” Your heart breaks at the sound of Jasmine's voice, but you have no idea what to do, you wish so badly you could rewind time, stop her from coming to save you. You try to look for an escape path, but the door is blocked by bodies filling up the room like wisps of smoke, all dressed in black and ready to strike, reminiscent of only the night before.

“Game’s over, you’ve had your fun. Let them go, you want me? You’ve got me. But leave them out of this.”

“Oh sweetheart, the fun is only beginning.”

It only takes a couple of strides before she reaches Jasmine and Greg, the couple huddled together, surviving from one another's comfort. “Aw, young love.” She motions with one hand and one of her minions prises Greg away, despite him fighting and yelling in protest as he is torn away from his lover. She trails a long pointed finger across Jasmine's jaw, making her hiss and whine as she tries to pull away but the Witch persists, marking her like a predator. “I considered killing you,” She says, green eyes meeting yours, “To watch Klaus suffer and to let you know your actions have consequences, but…” She turns back to the cowering girl, trying to bury herself deeper into the wall “How delicious would it be to watch you see your best friend murdered? Living with the consequences that it's all your fault before I take your own life.”

“Fuck this! That’s enough!” Greg is straining viciously against his captor and manages to wriggle free, pointing a finger as he shouts in protest, “I have no fucking idea what the hell is going on, but they don’t deserve this alright? You can’t just -”

As if swatting away a fly, one flick of her slender wrist is enough to send Greg flying backwards, his body hitting the walls with a blood-curdling smack, one that echoes through the room like a bell. You can hear screaming, both you and Jasmine, the room filling with hot tears and mingling cries as you both try to run forward, only to be held back by various members of the Witch’s gang.

“How did you? What the hell are you?” You have no idea how to answer Jasmines questions, and her face is terrified and streaked with tears as she moans and wails, she looks hurt and confused and you know that it's directed at you. “Please! Please! Let me see him! Let me see him! Oh my God!”

Her voice blurs into the background of wails and shouts, and the thumping of the music downstairs is enough to tell you that no one is coming to your rescue. You close your eyes and take a breath, wishing that when you open them everything will be normal and fine, and you’ll be downstairs with your friends, partying the night away only to later fall back into a hazy sleep with your best friend by your side, exhausted from dancing, blisters the only bad memory.

Two hands claw at your throat and send you spinning back to dizzying reality as the Witch whispers into your ear all the terrible things you’ve done to deserve this.

“Oh (Y/N)! Let her go you, evil bitch!”

“Marco! Pin that one down.” She then runs a palm down your face, “This one's mine.”

Dragged to the floor like a rag doll, you thrash and whine as she holds you against the ground. Her rancid breath is inches from your face and you howl and kick like an animal, you strain to catch sight of your best friend who is mirroring your actions, desperately trying to free herself. The Witch’s nails dig into your flesh and you wince, watching as the man holding down Jasmine is doing the same, both of them muttering foreign words as your blood trickles down.

“Jasmine, Jasmine?” Your voice is weary and thick with pain, head dizzy and blurred from whatever spell you are being put under. Your head feels like a bowling ball and you struggle to keep yourself from succumbing to sleep.

“(Y/N)? What’s happening? I don’t understand? What.. I’m scared.”

Your heart tears in two.

“I know. I know. I am too, but don’t think about that. Think about our sleepovers, and the party at Greg’s Uncles house, think about.. oh fuck.” You yelp as the wound gets deeper and flames lick at your insides, “Think about those days on the beach and the nights we spent camping and when you refused to walk the mile in P.E and got detention, think about all of that Ok. I love you, please God, I’m so sorry this is all my fault and I should have stopped this..” You kick your legs out and wail, “This is all my fault, I love you.”

Tears are flowing from both of you now, mixing with blood and sweat and you reach over and intertwine your fingers with hers, clasping together like two pieces of a puzzle. You meet her eyes and you can see how scared she is, how weak and terrified, but you hold hands and clench her tighter, trying to pull out some more strength.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“Puellae et pueri sanguine sevre milibus moriturus”

The chanting gets louder and louder, thumping and echoing like drums pounding away inside your ears, you hold Jasmine as tight as you can until your fingers turn white like snow. The pain is unbearable but you think of all the good in your life, your friends, Aunt Jean, Maple, Jasmine. Summer nights and winter mornings and the chill of the ocean breeze, ice cream by the harbour and feet covered in grass… and Klaus. The feeling you get when you’re with him, his lips on yours, the heat of his skin and the flames that ignite at his words. You know that it all started with him, all of this came because of his arrival in your small town, but you wouldn’t change it. You know that that makes you bad, it makes you as dark as the creatures that lurk in the shadows, but it would be worth a thousand years of repenting for your sins if it meant you could be with him. But now you would never see him again, never feel him pressed against you or his hands in your hair, it was just darkness.

“I thought I made my message clear when I killed your friends last night. But you Witch scum will never learn, you multiply like cockroaches.”

“How ironic coming from you, you and your family deserve to go back to the depths of hell where you came from, Niklaus.”

Your vision is too blurred to focus, and pain is throbbing through you but just his voice alone is enough to make your stomach do flips despite you being moments away from death. He came for you.

“Let the girls go, and I’ll consider ignoring that little comment.”

“Oh Niklaus, look at you…” Through hazy eyes, you can see her attempt to stare him down, her minions circling him like a pack of wolves. “Unbelievable, I used to fear you, your reign of terror has gone on long enough and now you’re weak, all because of one little human.” At her final words, she flicks her finger and poison fills your lungs like a house filled with smoke, you a cough and gag in pain as blood taints your mouth, making you desperately gasp for air. You can hear your name being called weakly, but you're too busy scrambling for breath to react.

“That was a mistake.” His voice is deep and low, sending shivers down your spine but you’re gagging and retching, trying to rid yourself of whatever is filling up inside of you. You can hear clamours and shouts, thumping and roaring and you crawl over to Jasmine’s half unconscious body and cover it with your own, trying to save her from the commotion around you both. You try and feel for a pulse through teary eyes, but hands and claws pry at your flesh before you can find one, throwing you back down.

The smell of blood and sweat and body heat fills the room, you can see torn limbs and battered bodies, and the witch cursing and fighting, her hair on end. Luckily, Jasmine is still in the corner, although you can’t see if her chest is rising and falling and you lash out at the man tackling you, he calls you a bitch and slams your head against the floor making you see stars.

You move your hands to your face feeling the distinct texture of blood that you have come so well to recognise, bared teeth and a smug grin as the man reaches for your throat only at the last second to have his neck snapped, falling to the floor like a puppet. You whimper in pain and fear, nausea in your throat until two large but gentle hands envelop your skin, as comforting as slipping into your bed on a winter evening.

“Are you alright, Love?”

You honestly don’t know so you don’t answer, grabbing the fabric of his soft t-shirt as if he will disappear from your clutches if you don’t. He’s in hybrid form, the veins black and blue protruding from under his skin and his eyes the colour of the deepest ocean but he has never looked more beautiful. He’s checking your face, tilting you and cursing under his breath violently at the state of you, he feels sick, but the bodies behind him ease his pain a little.

He asks you again, but something in you drowns him out, and before you know it you crash your lips onto his with such passion that it makes even him stumble backwards. You melt into him, salty tears falling but you don't care, you hate feeling weak but you want to bury yourself in the comfort of him for eternity. He kisses back, gentle of your bruising but feverishly hot, possessive over the thought of losing you, drinking you in like a glass of icy water on a scorching day. You clamber over him like a child, desperate to get closer and closer, until suddenly your eyes snap open.

“Oh my God, Jasmine!” You feel like shit that she wasn’t your first thought, and spin around desperately for her body, fumbling across the floor, until you see her, cowering in a corner. “Jas?”

“What the hell? Who the hell - what?” She's pointing at Klaus, his face still twisted in his beast form, the room is littered with bodies and blood and you feel lost for words, scrambling on all fours towards her, wincing as she cowers back even more. “No! No! I need a minute… give me a minute.”

“Jasmine,” You cry, “Jasmine, please.”

She shakes her head, her auburn hair tangled and ratty and filled with blood, she looks at Greg's limp body and howls, shaking like an animal. You feel inflamed inside and curl up into yourself, Klaus strides towards the edge of the room, making a few calls on his phone, presumably to clear up the mess.

“Who is he? What’s going on?”

“It's complicated...”

“Cut the bullshit (Y/N)!” You stop at her harsh words, she has never spoken to you like that, “You just kissed that that...” She lowers her voice an octave, “Thing.”

“I can explain…”

“Oh! I’m all ears! I’ve shared everything with you… from my first kiss to my first date to my first time, and you keep this a secret? I don’t even know who you are. That woman said that you slept with him, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Oh, that’s rich! Look around you… look at all these people.. dead! Because of you!” Her voice is wavering and she’s sobbing uncontrollably now, you can’t believe the words coming from her mouth but you know they’re true, even still, they pierce you like a knife.“James.. and… Greg! Oh my God, Greg! I don’t even know who you are!” She launches herself at you, and from the corner of your eye you can see Klaus approaching but you hold out a palm to get him to stop, allowing her to cry and wail and pummel your chest with her fists.

“I’m so sorry. I wish I could change everything, I wish I could.” You grasp her elbows and drag her towards the doors and onto the balcony, letting her take a few deep breaths as she hiccups and gulps, pushing you off of her.

“Go away (Y/N).”

“Jas -“

“GO!”

Tears slip down your cheeks and you nod, wondering what the hell you are going to do now, the hatred in your best friends voice making you feel like a monster. The dead bodies covering the floor making you shake and sob. Klaus engulfs you into his chest, kissing the top of your hair and then holding you at arm's length, “I have people coming to clean this up, they’ll sort out everyone downstairs as well, this won’t get out of hand… it’s over now my love.”

“What about Jasmine?”

He eyes the teenager outside, curled up in a foetal position, cradling her dress over herself like a blanket as she sobs quietly. “She’ll be dealt with.. someone will drive her home and compel her to forget, I promise you, it’s sorted.”

You nod, embracing his warm smell, “I should go too, make sure Aunt Jean is alright..”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you out of my sight, you’ll stay with me, where I can protect you.”

You don’t protest, just wanting to get as far away from this hell hole as possible. “Let me go and get my purse.” You avoid the bodies, diverting your eyes to the ceiling as you walk towards a table, grabbing your discarded belongings. Your head thumping and heart hammering, almost on autopilot as you do the mundane tasks.

“Puellae et pueri sanguine sevre milibus moriturus”

“What in..” You spin, the discarded body of the Witch rising from the floor like ashes to flame, her limbs snapping into place from the attack. Klaus lunges for her again, roaring like a lion, but she flings him to the side effortlessly. She paces towards you, hand outstretched and blood pouring from her nose onto the woodwork, you step back further and further. Klaus comes for her again, but before he can reach her she spins around, chanting until he is on his knees, clutching his head and writing in pain.

“What are you doing to him?” You howl, watching as he fights to overcome her spell.

“(Y/N),” He breathes through gritted teeth, “Run.”

But there's nowhere to go, she's stalking violently towards you, and you keep doing backwards as she lunges for your neck. Cool air slams against you and the sounds of the party beneath you are getting louder and clearer.

“(Y/N?)” You can hear Jasmine’s sniffles, you watch her face contort with recognition as she watches the scene unfold around her. She reaches out for you but you push her away, giving the weakest smile you can muster despite your insides screaming in terror. The witch has you cornered, your back pressed against the railing of the balcony, hard and cold against your bare skin. It’s almost beautiful, the night air, the sounds of your peers mingling around you, the moon and the stars dancing in the sky. She’s so close to you now you can feel her vile breath against your skin, the hatred deep in her wrinkles and the arch of her crooked nose.

“I warned you, and now you must live with the consequences.”

One lunge for you, and you fall back, you can hear Klaus yell, followed by Jasmine, and you can hear the sound of bones snapping and crunching, accompanied by a ferocious howl of pain. Hands reach to hoist you back over, grabbing and grasping at the mesh of your dress, but the fabric slides through the fingertips like butter. It feels like a long time that you’re falling, rushing through the air as it tangles through your hair and licks at your skin, as cheesy as it sounds, pictures of your life flash through your eyes, memories that make you smile. You can hear screaming and be crying all around you, shock and fear but all you feel is peace, as your body connects with the pavement and your neck makes its final click, snapping in half like the crack of a whip as your bones tear.

Peace.

#klaus mikaelson imagine #tvd imagine #TVD #klaus mikealson imagine #the originals #the vampire diaries #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #writing

121 notes · View notes

justjessame · 3 years

Text

All My Exes (One Shot)

Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Clay took a long look around the bar and wondered precisely when his life took him down the path that brought him to this particular point? It wasn’t the WORST place he’d ever been - that would probably still be Bolivia - being dead, especially when you were still breathing would always rank all the way at the very bottom of rock bottom, but it sure as hell wasn’t the top either.

The bartender, a woman who Roque would have absolutely warned him about being just a shade too young for ANYONE in their team, but it was best not to think of Roque, not here and now - not after, he waved his hand and she came over with a smile worn best by those in the service industry. A smile that said “what can I get you” while also keeping the familiarity at arm’s length.

“Can I get another?” Clay asked, his own grin growing as his eyes took a tour of the scenery that she presented. Long red hair, piled high in a loose knot of curls, green eyes that were highlighted with just the right amount of makeup to make them pop and snap, lips that he’d bet were naturally pinkish red and had a pout that would make a peach jealous. She wasn’t tall, her chest level with the bar top, and the outfit she wore was one that would have fit into any of the many bars he’d frequented over the years. Jeans, tank, pushup bra - he corrected that when she leaned over to refill his glass and realized that she was wearing a thinly padded sports bra that criss crossed under her tank, no push up needed for what was pressing up under that shirt. “Quiet night,” he offered as she stood back, leaning against the counter parallel to his spot at the bar.

“Observant of you,” those pink lips of hers were twitching into a smirk. “Tuesdays tend to be slow.”

“Must suck for you,” he took a drink from his glass and smiled as she shrugged, a lack of concern rolling off of her in waves. “Don’t you get bored?”

“Me?” She shook her head and the red of her curls caught the lights that kept the bottles in sharp relief. Her smile came easily. “Nah, I make my own fun.” Head tilting she reached behind her and pulled out a book. Holding it up, she hopped onto the counter she’d been leaning on. “Lack of customers means I can catch up on my reading.”

She wasn’t what he was expecting. Dressed like she was, tending bar in a place like this - and instead of everything he thought he knew, she was going to open a book and get lost in the pages? What the hell?

“You read on slow nights?” His eyebrow felt like it was going to leave his face soon. “That’s your fun?”

She snorted and looked at him over the top of her book. “What did you think I meant? Did you expect me to offer you a lapdance or a blow job?” Rolling her eyes, she turned the page and let her eyes drift back to the pages. “Sorry to disappoint you, Grandpa, but while you drink away your sorrows and regrets, I’ll read away my boredom.”

“Grandpa?” That was it, he was going to lose both of his fucking eyebrows. She was going to make them leave his face. “I’m not THAT old.”

She giggled, looking up again and biting her lip at his reaction. “Out of everything I JUST said, the ONE thing you picked up on and got pissed about was me making a crack about your AGE?” She shook her head and marked her place in her book. Hopping down from the counter, she grabbed the bottle of scotch that he was drinking from and a bottle of something else and came around the bar. Taking the stool next to his she leaned over the bar and grabbed a glass for herself. “That’s it, you’re too fucking sad for me to make my own fun. Let’s have a drink and you can tell me ALL about it.”

Clay stared at her as she poured herself a frosted glass of what he now saw was straight vodka, then topped his own off. He was trying to wrap his head around the change of direction the entire situation just went, but she was staring at him as she took her first drink. “What’s your name?”

Her lips curled into a smile and he wondered how they’d taste. “You can call me, Ettie.”

Clay didn’t know how it happened. How the evening went from him sitting at a bar drinking and thinking about how attractive the bartender was to sitting next to her, drinking together and sharing stories about shitty exes?

“I had this one,” Ettie started, rolling her eyes and reaching for the bottle of scotch because his glass was growing thin. “I swear I still don’t know how I missed the crazy. I should have been able to SMELL it. Slashed tires. Broken phones. I think I could blame the death of my cat -”

Clay’s eyes went wide. “Killed your cat?” Ettie nodded. “Damn, that IS crazy.” He remembered a different time. A graveyard in Bolivia and being reminded of his OWN checkered past. “I had this one,” he shook his head and took a drink from his glass to fortify himself for the memory.

Amber. God, she was gorgeous. He met her by chance, at the grocery store of all fucking places. He’d gone in to grab - it didn’t matter - there she was, wearing a white sundress made of that weird lacy fabric that’s heavier than lace? What’s that called?

“Crochet?” Ettie supplied, taking a sip of her vodka and smiling around the cool glass.

Yeah, crochet. Her skin was so dark, she loved the sunlight and the beach. They were talking about how much she couldn’t wait to go out the next day - while they were in the check out lane and the next thing he knew he had her phone number.

First date was great. They had dinner and they came back to her place. She told him that she was going through a divorce. Her and her husband were separated, but it was over. He stayed the night and woke up to this huge man standing over him with a knife and thought - SEPARATED?!

He left while they were screaming at one another. She called him and SWORE her husband had broken into the apartment. He didn’t know boundaries. They were over. So they went out again. And he stayed over again. The husband didn’t wake Clay up, but he started to pull away. She was a little too clingy. She was asking - second date, remember - when she could move into HIS place? Where did I see THEM going? And on and on.

He was heading out of town, for work, and Clay heard this screaming and then a bang - she shot him.

“She SHOT you?!” Ettie’s eyes were wide. “Like with a gun?”

Clay nodded. “Just in my leg.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

Ettie stared at him for a long moment, taking a sip of her drink almost absently. “Who ARE you?”

Clay chuckled. “I’m GRANDPA, remember?”

Rolling her eyes, Ettie studied him. “So Amber shot you, in the leg, and you just went about your business like -” she shrugged and he nodded, taking his own drink. “Alright.”

“You had an ex who killed your cat,” he reminded her.

“Murdered my pussy,” she nodded, and he snorted. “I’m thinking my exes were NORMAL crazy and you had fucked up crazy exes.”

“I did have one who planted a bomb in my car.” He laughed as her eyebrows tried to escape from her face. Finally.

Emma. What was there to say about Emma? He didn’t actually sleep with Emma, that was a very important note to make. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure why Emma ever fixated on him so heavily.

They had met through work.

“Work?” Ettie asked, eyebrow still elevated and waiting for something to lower its expectations. None came. “Come on, give us a bone.”

Work, that’s all there needs to be said. Emma was a work colleague. And she saw in Clay something special. It was unfortunate that he missed the memo and the signs. Right up until he sat down in the car that was a literal ticking time bomb.

“How did you know?” Ettie was staring at him like he MIGHT actually be more interesting than her book. “I mean, about the bomb?”

“She called,” Clay shrugged again. “Not me, but one of my other work -”

“Colleagues.” His drinking buddy supplied with a nod. “And this coworker knew how to diffuse the situation?”

Clay’s grin had his dimples coming out to play. “I work with a lot of specialists.”

“Huh,” Ettie was digesting this information and missed the fact that his glass was getting well below the bartender’s level of comfort. He reached for the bottle and topped himself off. “So you were shot and nearly blown up by your exes?”

“Yup.” He nodded, thinking about the hotel in Bolivia that he and Aisha had burned down and the one stateside that they made resemble a slice of Swiss cheese.

“You’re worse at this shit than I am,” she shook her head and took another drink. “That’s almost impressive, but mostly it’s sad.”

He laughed, drawing her attention and making her smile come back. “Thanks.”

“Stating the obvious,” she shrugged. “Shit, is that the time?” Her eyes had landed on his watch. “Closing time is closing in.” Hopping off the stool, she moved back to the professional side of the bar. “Lucky me, there’s not a hell of a lot of clean up to do.”

“Yeah, two glasses and two bottles,” Clay nodded, pulling out his wallet, but she held out her hand. “I can’t let you pay for my -”

“Sure you can,” she grinned. “I own the bar, asshole.” Shaking her head, her grin grew as the bell rang out that someone was coming in. Her eyes lit up when they landed on the person coming closer. “Look what the cat drug in.”

“Stop saying that,” the tall brunette muttered, coming closer and leaning over the bar to kiss Ettie. “It sounds like you think I look disgusting.” She was staring at the smaller redhead with a soft smile on her lips, and Clay felt extremely jealous. “Oh, sorry.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Etta Ray is a complete ass when it comes to introducing people. I’m Catrina, and you are?”

#Franklin Clay #The Losers (2010)#alternative universe #mention of smut #one shot #drabble #humor

0 notes

clownfuckery · 7 years

Text

A Monster for a Mate - Prologue

PENNYWISE X OC

A/N: This multi-chapter fic is inspired by the post Thoughts on Deadlights by @hello-helianthus. There will be many references to The Dark Tower and Stephen King’s multiverse. Rated M for strong sexual content (yes, there will be smut), violence, language, gore and horror.

-----

“You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature” – Eliza Crewe

“Something new had happened. For the first time in forever, something new… and there had been pain, pain, great roaring pain… and for one moment there had also been fear, because…all living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit. For the first time, It realized that perhaps Its ability to change Its shape might work against It as well as for It. There had never been pain before, there had never been fear before, and for a moment It had thought It might die - oh Its head had been filled with a great white silver pain, and it had roared and mewled and bellowed… Suppose there was Another? Suppose… suppose… Now they were coming again, and while everything had gone much as It had foreseen, something It had not foreseen had returned: that maddening, galling fear… So, another new thing, if you please: for the first time in Its never-ending history, It needed to make a plan; for the first time It found Itself afraid simply to take what It wanted from Derry, Its private game-preserve…” -Stephen King, It

-----

A Walk Among the Ruins

Penobscot  County D E R R Y  Maine

I can feel the butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I look up at the sign marking the city limits. For a moment I wonder how long the somewhat faded and dusty plaque has stood at the edge of the town, like a faithful watchman who has become frozen at his post with the passing of time, becoming rooted to the ground into which he is placed. I see it as a symbol of what I became since losing that part of me that was human, for I too stand frozen in time, and today will be the day when I finally enter into my first slumber.

Today, I reunite with him.

It.

The clown lies waiting for me deep underground, two years into his hibernation. I remained behind, promising to join him on the other side of sleep when my time came to go Todash. For two years I have waited for the bells to chime, wandering the streets of the place made after his image. I miss him, terribly, hearing his childish high-pitched laughter in the wind and catching glimpses of him peeking from behind trees and hiding in the underbrush. At night, as I lay curled in the darkened and decaying rooms of the Neibolt house I can almost feel him, the rustle of white silver silk shattering the stillness as I imagine a large, gloved, ghostly hand reaching out to caress my cheek.

It finally happened in the wee hours when I came to sit on the grassy patch beneath the town sign as was my daily ritual. Every morning at exactly 3 a.m. I leave the relative safety of Neibolt and walk the deserted streets to the same spot, watching the black and straight line of Route 7 until the sun rises and the first trucks carrying the fruits of local farms come rolling into town. I had just settled on the grass, resting my head against the steel beams, when I felt my ears become inflamed and I registered the distant ringing. It grew and grew, and as I sat in the darkness looking into the trees for the source of the sound, I finally realized that the jingling came from within my chest. My call had finally come, and as I felt a yawn form in my throat, I shouted with joy.

Now here I stand, dusting off my jeans and reaching for the handle of my old and torn suitcase, my sole companion and the only link I have left to a past I can no longer remember. The LV pattern is faded and the once rich brown leather is now a sickly yellow, but inside are the items I carried when I set foot on this town two years ago. There are also a wrinkled receipt from the Derry Townhouse and a driver’s license from Vermont which reads:

Name: Luseres Dietrich Born: November 6, 1989 Blood Type: AB

I begin to make my way back into town, and as Route 7 becomes Witcham Street with its rows of quaint houses surrounded by white picket fences, dawn is just breaking. In the distance I can hear the revving of machinery as early working crews continue the prolonged work of restoring the center of town. Soon, Derry will not only be rebuilt, but revamped into an urban complex, rivaling the likes of Bangor. I make my way down West Brodway, turn left on Kansas Street, and finally enter Neibolt Street just as the sun rises in the East. It is sure to be a beautiful summer day in New England, I realize as I am bathed in golden light, but none of it matters. My legs are becoming heavier with each step, my shoulders weigh me down, and I find myself blinking just a tad longer.

I stop in front of the old abandoned house, Pennywise’s home, and remember the few days I spent trapped inside its walls. My flesh went stiff with fear at the exotic horrors found in its shifting halls and chambers of unimaginable terrors, I screamed until my throat felt raw, but it was also there where I left my humanity behind and rose unafraid, finally embracing that part of myself which until then I refused to accept. It was deep beneath that old, charred and blackened house where my fate was joined with his.

I let out a sigh of relief and continue on, disappearing into the trees at the end of the lane. Here the earth slopes downward, and I carefully pull my suitcase behind me as I skillfully climb down into the Barrens below. As I enter the clearing, the first trains of the day whistle as they chug on the bridge above en route to the sea. I now carry the suitcase over my head as I maneuver through the wetlands, stepping over stones and splashing in the shallow waters of the Kenduskeag. As I finally reach the edge of the Barrens, I look back one last time at the cliffs that mark the western edge of town. It will be twenty-five years before I set eyes, hungry eyes, upon that rock face once more.

The entrance to the spillway tunnel opens up before me, like the gaping mouth of a creature from the Prim, gasping for breath on the shores of some parallel world. The water that once spilled from the Canal now trickles into the improved underground tunnels built by Derry Public Works. These old drainpipes are dry now, dark sepulchral mazes that are abandoned to the elements. My boots make a clickety-sound that thumps along to the humming of the suitcase wheels dragging across the cement. I bid farewell to the world as the light streaming from outside fades when I make a turn into a narrower tunnel. I’m soon enveloped in darkness, every now and then broken by thin streams of sunlight that push their way through the cracks above. Further and further in I go, and soon the tunnels open into the center of the old sewer system. Pipes begin to emerge from the thick walls, broken and caved in.

It is into one of these that I climb, squeezing through an opening large enough in the debris. I haul my suitcase in and continue hunched over, once again winding left and right, guided by instinct. Something buried deep in these manmade catacombs is calling to me, and I feel warmth rising in my chest as the deadlight I carry within begins to gleam. Finally, I reach the collapsed entryway of what I’ve come to call home. I slide through the cracks of a huge slab of concrete that blocks it off from the rest of the world, and I spill inside.

Pennywise’s Tower.

I fight back tears as I look upon its destruction. Both the enormous collection of mementos from his past hunts and the circus wagon in which I spent many a moment lost in rapture now lie crushed beneath a small mountain of debris. The tower collapsed into itself on that horrible day in May when I made the ultimate sacrifice to ensure the survival of the monster to whom I am bound. Instinctively I look down at my hands and for a moment I can see the small bundle of pale white skin and vibrant eyes look up at me in complete trust as I hand her over to be devoured by her dying father. The tears finally flow for I can no longer contain them.

“There will be more, I promise” I had pleaded with urgency, literally pushing the humanoid infant who was now crying loudly into his deteriorating hands. He had mewled, bellowed and roared against it, recoiled from the idea, but as my own skin began to crumble he lunged for her, unhinging his jaws and swallowing her whole.

I didn’t even look away.

I place my suitcase down and make my way to the edge of the only well that has remained intact. I throw my legs over the ladder and begin my descent into total darkness. I can feel my vision adjusting the lower I go, my green irises morphing into amber. My chest now glows brighter as my deadlight senses the nearness of its mate: Pennywise is in the nest. When I reach the bottom I eagerly climb into the claustrophic tunnel dug by him centuries ago. Exhaustion threatens to crush my bones as I crawl the last few hundred yards, and then at last, I am home.

The nest becomes dimly light by the glow emanating from my chest, and I rush over to him.

“Penny, I’m here” I call out, but he remains unmoving. Of course, he can’t hear me, he is no longer in this world. His deadlight does not glow. The avatar remains, but It is in the Todash darkness. Through now heavy eyelids I look upon Its most favored form, and I feel a surge of warmth and love wash over me. The clown is curled into a ball, almost cat-like, with an arm hiding his face. I lovingly run my fingers through his fine tufts of hair, reveling in their silky quality.

“January embers” I whisper, and for some reason the words feel as though they carry a significant weight.

Feeling the last threads of consciousness become severed, I lay down next to him and press my body to his. As my eyes slowly close I hope that I dream of my past. Please let me remember, just let me remember, are the last words that go through my mind as I slip into slumber and go Todash.

Together Again

My eyes open and I see that I stand at the edge of a dense coniferous forest. Powdery snow blankets the ground like ash. It drifts gently in the breeze, and I place my hand out to catch the flakes. They immediately disintegrate when they come in contact with my skin, but instead of melting, they evaporate back into the air, floating upwards to a starless sky. A sense of dread grips me as I look up at the black expanse that envelopes me completely. There is only darkness above me as well as behind me. What if I’m lost? What if I drifted into the Prim? What if Pe…

Just then, the faint sounds of calliope music drift towards me in the breeze and I turn back to the forest. The snow clears and I begin to make out the pointed tops of large tents somewhere behind the trees. Lights flicker, and after sparks explode right above me, a large sign I hadn’t noticed comes to life and the name PENNYWISE lights up the darkness. The ground shifts beneath me and a path lined with flickering lights opens up before me.

“Of course. What else would it be?” I chuckle and enter the fairground that becomes alive the moment I set foot inside. Rides gear on, the carousel lights up and begins to go round and round. Tents open up on either side of me, their shelves lined with antique toys to be won. The carnival music blasts from all sides, like a hymn of joy that announces my arrival. Jack-in-the-boxes spin on their own and pop open, with tiny versions of Pennywise bursting up and laughing that deliciously devious cackle of his. As I finally reach the merry-go-round, my eyes go wide with amazement.

There are shadows inside. Small black masses with somewhat human shapes ride the carousel horses, some sit in the chariots, and some just stand and take hold of the bars. As I look around me I notice more of them, walking slowly through the fair, some stopping at the attractions, others standing at the contest stalls. The more I notice them, the more there seem to be. They come in all shapes and sizes, some barely reaching my knee while others tower above me, but they all float happily through the carnival.

Suddenly, the unmistakable voice of Pennywise comes booming out from above.

“Step right up, children, step right up! Come near, come close! You’ll laugh, you’ll cry! You’ll cheer, you’ll die! Introducing Pennywise, the Dancing Clown! Woo ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

A traveling stage opens and inside is a life size marionette of Pennywise himself. The wooden puppet breaks into a jig, kicking its legs outward to the tempo of the music. The shadows roaming the fair begin to slink toward the stage, and as I now stand alone, I take notice of the largest tent in the grounds, pitched away from all the attractions. As I look, one of its curtains lifts on its own, beckoning me to enter. A different kind of music drifts from inside, soft, somber notes that are wrung from a wind instrument, and in a trance, I make my way towards it.

My breath catches in my throat when I step over the threshold. There, with his back turned towards me, is Pennywise. His head hangs low and his body sways as he plays the concertina. Though I cannot see it, I know his eyes are closed, reveling in every note, every sigh of sorrow that spills form the bellows of the instrument.

I watch him in silence and awe as he fills the tent with the most melancholic and serene of songs. It is a song that speaks of the sorrow of two lovers separated by distance and time. When it ends, I swallow the lump in my throat, understanding that in his own way, Pennywise is voicing the emptiness he has felt without me near.

“So… this is how they really float” I manage to choke out.

His arms drop by his sides and the concertina falls to the floor. He turns, and my chest swells when his two sulfurous eyes lock into mine. I can see relief and worry combined inside their yellow depths, but their sparkle returns the moment his lips part into an ear-splitting smile. In a breath I close the distance, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands cup my face.

“My little songbird, I thought you’d never get here”

End of Prologue

-----

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

#pennywise #pennywise fanfic #pennywise fanfiction #pennywise fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fix #it 2017 #it movie #clown daddy #clowndaddy #daddywise #pennyboi #clownboi #clown smut #horror #pennywise x oc #clownfuckery #clownfucker

193 notes · View notes

randomfandomimagine · 7 years

Text

Evil Mastermind Noct (Prompto x Reader)

Character: Prompto Argentum (feat Noctis)

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Fluff

Title: Evil Mastermind Noct

Summary: Prompto has the biggest crush on Y/N, but doesn’t have the courage to confront her about it. Tired of watching his best friend struggle, Noctis is determined to give him a hand.

A/N: In Prom’s POV!

WARNING: Extremely fluffy and cute and adorable! Seriously, puke rainbows kind of fluffy!

I’m so going to kill Noct… I know he’s my friend and he’s probably trying to help but… I’m gonna kill him.

I can see it in his eyes, in the way his lips curl up in a smirk as he looks at us. He’s gonna say something about Y/N and me, and it’s gonna embarrass me.

“You know?” His voice is smug as well when he pipes up, pointing at me first and then at my crush. “You two look cute together”

I open my eyes wide in outrage, staring at him while silently trying to communicate with my best friend. I immediately take my arm off her shoulders.

“Stop it, Noct!” She just giggles, shrugging the ‘innocent’ comment off.

“Yeah” I reply tiredly. “Stop it, Noct”

But my friend just smirks mischievously. Oh, he’s having a greeeeat time teasing me and making me suffer. The little royal prat, I was so gonna get him back… eventually…

Noct just keeps on walking to join Ignis in the Regalia. Gladio, Y/N and I follow after him.

I just want to leave the diner behind and keep on rolling with the car, continuing our journey.

I sit in my spot next to Ignis and find a great relief when he starts the engine and the Regalia begins moving once again.

“What was that all about?” Gladio taps my shoulder to make sure I know he’s talking to me.

“Huh?” I turn in the seat to have a good look at the three in the back.

I glance at Gladio, but find my attention being diverted to Y/N and Noct. They are sitting down next to each other…

Oh. Em. Gee. He can literally tell her any time he wants, and he would!

Almost like he’s actually reading my mind, Noct looks at me. That smirk on his lips is smugly reminding me that he has power over me, that he will tell Y/N about my feelings for her if I don’t do it myself.

“It was nothing” I reply to Gladio’s question, since his eyes are still focused on me. “Just messing around”

“Uh-huh” The big guy nods, smiling a little.

Does he know too?! I bet he does, they are all on it! Conspiring against me to reveal my secret to Y/N! Such friends…

“Look, Prom!” She suddenly exclaims, pointing her finger to the horizon. “That’s worth a photo right there!”

I look over to where she’s pointing and realize she’s right. Isn’t she the best? The fact that she takes interest in my love for photography and that she gets me so well…

“Yup!” I say before I can let out the dreamy sigh that threatens to make its way to my lips.

I take it as an opportunity to sit back on my seat and mind my own business, using the photos as an excuse.

Even if I constantly have the sudden urge to turn around and make sure that Noct doesn’t spill the beans.

I stretch my arms over my head, a bit numb from the long ride.

Walking ahead and taking out my camera, I shoot a few photos of the horizon. It looks especially beautiful with that lighting, and all the green of the fields is really something!

I am tempted to turn around and take some pictures of Y/N, remembering the saying ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer’ and knowing how smitten and captivated I am by her. And she’s always so cute and so photogenic! It isn’t fair!

But I don’t, because I can feel her presence behind me, very close. Then she laughs that adorable chuckle of hers and I confirm that she’s a mere few meters away from me.

I catch her with the corner of my eye, and my stomach starts doing somersaults inside my body when her arm grazes mine as she passes by my side.

Her eyes are dreamily staring at the horizon, and I know it’s the perfect moment to show her the photos I took. Even if it’s literally the same scene that she’s looking at right now, but I don’t care.

I open my mouth, taking advantage that she’s standing right next to me and she has stopped walking, when it happens.

Y/N is suddenly bumping into me, losing her balance. As fast as I can, I wrap my arm around her waist to steady her. I almost drop my camera as I try to hold her up with my other hand.

She desperately hangs onto my shoulder as her front collides with mine with that sudden movement.

“Noct, you utter klutz!” My friend complains once she regains her composure, laughing.

She’s so cute and innocent… Naive enough to think that Noct didn’t do it on purpose, too naive to think he was being mischievous and doing all that deliberately. She didn’t believe he could be evil.

“You okay?” I ask her, concerned. “Did you twist your ankle or something?”

“No, Prompt” Y/N looks up to me, and when her beautiful eyes lock with mine something stirs within me and my heart speeds up. “I’m fine, thanks”

We’re basically hugging as we cling onto each other for support. Once she’s regained her balance, however, she stands up straight and lets go of me.

I find myself missing her closeness. Missing how my hand fitted perfectly in her waist and how her hand softly rested against my shoulder.

When she moves and keeps on walking, carefree and unconcerned, I see Noct. And his stupid little smirk again on his lips.

“Dude, stop it!” I whisper-yell, putting a hand to my heart when I realize it had been racing the entire time.

I absently look ahead to make sure that she doesn’t hear. She doesn’t, because Ignis has distracted her by making sure she didn’t get hurt.

“What?” Noctis calmly replies. “Worst case scenario, she falls and sprains her ankle and you have to carry her”

“Me?” I decide to leave my indignation behind to go along with him. “Not with Gladio being here! He’s the strongest, he’d carry her!”

“Not if his back is hurting” Of course, they would find an excuse.

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me, Noct? Does my suffering bring you any pleasure?”

“Maybe a little, but you know I’m just trying to give you a hand”

I know he’s right, though. Noct knows I’m having a bad time getting over my crush on her.

“I just can’t tell her…” I absently shuffle through the pictures of the day in my camera in an attempt to change the subject.

Noct won’t let me.

“I’m telling you, she likes you!” My friend does an exasperated gesture, throwing his arms in the air.

“Yeah, right” I huff, not believing it for one moment. “She’s out of my league”

The glare that Noct gives me next is the most unamused in the history of unamused glares.

Knowing him, something tells me that he’s fed up with the whole thing. Maybe that’ll make him give it up at last.

But Noct was never a quitter.

I hate dungeons. They are dark and trigger my claustrophobia. They are wet and leave me cold. But overall, it feels like we are in constant danger.

A monster can jump out at any minute and attack us. Or worse, kill us.

The only good thing about it apart from my friends is… yep, Y/N.

Not that she is a coward or can’t handle herself in battle. I know her enough to understand why she’s clinging to my arm as we navigate the maze-like dungeon, and it’s because her imagination is running wild and it’s actually worse than the actual thing.

Just like me, she’s scared that something is gonna pop up even though we don’t really feel threatened.

“What was that?” Noct suddenly snaps, stopping in his tracks.

Y/N squeaks in my ear and hugs my arm even tighter, to the point that she’s almost hurting me. I jolt up slightly too, but not as badly.

“Noct, I swear… If you’re messing around…” I warn him, annoyed.

My friend looks at me over the shoulder and sends me a grin that intended to be a smirk but turned softer. It’s almost a sweet smile.

“What I meant…” He pauses dramatically. “Is that there’s light ahead”

“Sunlight at last” Ignis sighs, clearly relieved as well.

“We made it out, scaredy-cats” Gladio playfully pats me in the back, making me totter forward with his force.

“I wasn’t scared!” I defend myself, even if my voice betrays me with its high-pitch.

“I was” Y/N is unapologetic even if I try to hide my embarrassment. Then she lets out one of her beautiful chuckles. Isn’t she great?

“It’s certainly comforting to see the sunlight again” Ignis mumbles, hopefully to make me feel better.

I sigh in relief under my breath, mentally thanking the Gods for being outside again. Dungeons are so unpleasant!

However, I glance at Y/N when I hear her grunt of annoyance, which is something she never does. She’s too polite and cute to ever do that.

“I’m exhausted, guys…” Y/N tiredly says behind us, dragging herself across the place.

“Probably because the adrenaline wore off” Specs explains, gesturing with his hands.

“Why don’t you give her a piggy back ride, Prompto?” Noct looks over his shoulder at me, smirking like he does when he has an evil plan on his head.

I knew he wouldn’t let it rest, he has to take every opportunity to embarrass me in front of her. To get her closer to me to try and make me confess, but how can I?!

“Gladio is twice my size!” I complain, motioning over to the big guy.

I have a feeling of deja vu when I realize we had a similar conversation before.

“Gladio is not in the mood to carry anyone right now” He replies himself, talking in third person for humorous effect.

Y/N shakes her head, but yawns in spite of herself.

“It’s okay, guys” She waves her hand in the air carelessly, like it’s no biggie. “No one needs to carry me”

“Nonsense, it’s our duty to be gentlemanly towards a lady” I swear, Ignis is on it too, he knows.

He glances at me through his glasses, almost defiantly. Almost challenging me to reject that idea.

“Fiiine” I give in, only because the poor thing looks too tired and I want to help her. I stand in front of her and lean forward slightly. “Hop on!”

“No, Prom” Y/N kindly pats my back so I stand up straight again. “You must be tired too and-“

“Won’t take no for an answer” I say in a sing-song voice, trying to entice her.

Our friend chuckles and rolls her eyes softly before settling her tender hands on my shoulders. She barely has any strength left to jump up, so I help her a little.

“Alley-oop!” I encourage her as she rests her weight against my back and I hold her legs up so she doesn’t fall.

“You comfy, Y/N?” Has Noct suddenly stopped being able to speak without that smug tone as well?

“Mm-hmm” She nods as she nuzzles her nose in my neck, resting her arms on my shoudlers and holding her intertwined hands over my chest.

Her closeness and warmth is flustering me, so I try my best not to say anything and make a completely fool out of myself by stuttering like a stupid. Especially since all I can think of is how nice it feels to be holding her.

Sure, I’m exhausted and although pretty light and small, she’s heavy. But I don’t even care about it right now.

“Look at those two!” Gladio teases fondly.

“Best friends” Ignis agrees, nodding with approval.

“I feel like there’s something off about you guys” Y/N innocently comments, not even bothering to look up. I bet she’s closed her eyes, judging by her sleepy voice.

If only she knew… I mean, she… she can’t possibly know, right? I mean, she’s not stupid! She’s pretty damn smart! It’s just that… oh Gods, let’s hope she doesn’t know, otherwise I’ll die of embarrassment!

“You’re just tired” Gladio tries to soothe her suspicions, but ruins it by letting out a blatant guffaw of laughter right after.

“Thanks, Prom” Y/N sounds so tiny that I have to contain myself to shrink over myself and squeak from the cuteness overload.

“Hey, no sweat!” I wish I could rub her arm or something, but there’s only so much I can do holding her up like that.

“We’re almost there” Ignis announces.

“Don’t worry, Prompto” Noctis even chuckles this time. “Your suffering will end soon”

“I sure hope so” I sarcastically reply to him, making him grin.

I suddenly notice that Y/N’s head is heavily leaning on my shoulder and her grip on my chest has softened a little. She’s also been pretty quiet, but what really sells it is that I hear a small snore.

“Guys, she fell asleep!” I can’t contain myself, I just need to share my love for her with them. “She’s the cutest!”

“Isn’t she adorable” Ignis teases me a little, accompanying his words with a sweet smile.

“Let’s get her to camp” Gladio leads the way, briefly turning to us as he speaks. “It’s not far now”

“Don’t worry, Gladio” I’m starting to think that smirk is stuck on Noct’s lips. “Prompto will take care of Y/N in the meantime”

I hang my head low when I feel my cheeks burning up with intensity, and I know I’m obviously blushing.

But I don’t argue with that statement, because it’s true. I’m gonna do anything to make sure she gets some rest and that she’s comfortable.

When I leave the tent the next day I know I’m going to be teased at even more.

Because Y/N cuddled closer to me in her sleep and smiled happily when she felt my arm over her. Okay, I’m guilty too because I gladly let her and snuggled closer to her myself, but come on!

I resign myself and go out, accepting my destiny. As soon as I exit the tent –reluctantly leaving a sleepy and cuddly Y/N alone –all eyes are on me.

She really must have been exhausted, because even Noct is up. Which is saying something.

“Hiya…” I greet them, inhibited.

“Sleep well?” Ignis is the first one to talk.

“Yeah”

“And Y/N?”

“Still sleeping”

“Poor girl isn’t used to all the adventure”

“You two looked pretty cute in there, all snuggled up” I’m fed up with Noct’s playful condescending tone.

“You know what? I’m not gonna fall for it anymore” I shrug, trying to change my strategy. “I like her, so what?”

“I just… don’t get why you like her so much” My best friend pouts.

“You don’t… You… Noct” Maybe he said it deliberately, but his response gets on my nerves. “Are you kidding me?!”

How can he not see how perfect she is?! Is he blind?! C’mon, Noct!

“I really don’t understand” He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest, calmly. “She’s my friend, but I don’t get why you’re so in love with her”

“I’m in love with her because… She’s just so… dreamy!”

“What’s so dreamy about her?”

“Everything! I mean, have you seen her?! Her warm beautiful eyes, that gorgeous smile of hers that makes my heart happy and-and her soft lips… She’s just the prettiest girl in Eos!”

“So you just like her for her looks? That’s shallow, Prompto!”

“No! It’s not just that! Her personality really is something! She’s adorable, and like, the kindest and friendliest! Y/N is super nice to me too, and she gets me so well… I just love her so much”

“Why wouldn’t you tell her then?” In my praise for Y/N, I had almost forgotten Gladio and Ignis are still there.

“Again, I don’t want to ruin our friendship! She’s out of my league!”

“I disagree” Ignis says. “I believe she is actually quite a good match for you”

“Let’s ask her” Noct mumbles, and I’m about to interrupt him when he talks over me. “What do you think, Y/N?”

I roll my eyes, knowing he’s just playing again. Trying to scare me like that…

“Aw! Prompto!” Her voice suddenly says behind me.

I’m too busy having several heart attacks at once to notice the happy tone.

“Y/N?!” I frantically turn around and face my worst nightmare. She just heard everything I confessed to Noct, thinking it was a private conversation. “W-were you here the entire time?!”

She nods energetically, and that almost makes me straight out pass out. My legs feel weak and shaky like they suddenly turned into jelly.

“I-I-I…” I think I’m starting to hyperventilate. “Y/N, I… My… me… Oh Gods…”

“I like a lot of things about you too, you know?” Even if her eyes briefly direct towards our friend, they soon settle on me with the sweetest glance.

Like I wasn’t nervous enough, she has to lock eyes with me and make me melt with her tender look.

“Hm?” Is all I can manage to let out, hardly even a noise.

“Your beautiful smile, your vibrant blue eyes that look at me with so much love, your strong arms and that heart of golds of yours…”

Somebody pinch me, I think I’m dreaming. Either that or I died and went to heaven, because I haven’t felt so happy in… wow, in a long time.

“Wow, I…” I chuckle out of disbelief. This is ridiculous. “You like me back? Me? You like me?”

“Yeah, silly!”

“Wow! I can’t believe that…” I know I’m starting to ramble, but I can’t stop myself and my nervousness has taken my body hostage. “You’re so… and I’m so… but you actually… and after all…”

Y/N laughs and smashes her lips on mine. That definitely shuts me up.

Nevermind, I think now I’m dying. This is it, I’m gone. I’m going insane with the feeling of her lips on mine.

It’s so perfect. So sweet, so loving and so warm. Better than I could ever imagine.

“Finally!” Gladio’s voice reminds me that we’re not alone, so we both break away at the same time, embarrassed.

They were watching the scene, probably very amused and very full of themselves. Noct must be having the time of his life.

“It was about time” Ignis smiles kindly at us, seemingly happy.

“Thanks to who?” Noct intervenes, and I have never seen him so satisfied.

“Evil master mind Noctis” Y/N replies with a soft grin.

“Wait” I look at my best friend and point my finger at him, accusing him. “You… You planned aaaaall of this?!”

“What can I say?” He shrugs, also with that signature smirk of an evil mastermind.

“If you’ll excuse us, boys” Y/N giggles and even if it kind of childish, I still find it adorable. “Prompto and I have a lot to talk about”

“Don’t mind us” Ignis makes a hand gesture to encourage us. “We’ll be right here”

She takes that as her cue to hold my hand and tug at it to run with me and have a little privacy away from the group.

“Have fun!” Noct shouts at us so we can hear him even if we’re already racing.

We run, feeling an amazing euphoria run through us as we look at each other and laugh without a reason other than happiness. Other than realizing we finally are on the same page, we finally get to be together and cuddle and ugh!

Just imagining hugging her and having her in my arms, my stomach squirms happily and there’s a nervous lump in my throat. I feel giddy and excited.

Once we’ve distanced ourselves enough from them, she plops down in the ground and drags me down with her.

It’s a bit awkward when we get suddenly quiet and are too shy to even look at each other. But I guess it’s nothing odd since we literally just confessed our feelings to each other.

Or more likely, Noct forced us to. Guess he was fed up with watching how painfully obvious it was that we had a crush on the other.

“Can I…” I clear my throat when my voice comes out high-pitched. “Can I… hug you?”

“Of course you can!” Y/N cheerfully places her head on my shoulder, and I wrap both my arms around her.

I bring her close to me until her warmth engulfs me again and I smile to myself out of pure bliss.

“Ah” I can’t suppress a happy sigh. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long”

“Do what?”

“Hold you in my arms, Y/N”

“You can do it whenever you want, you know?” She giggles, shoving her face on my neck again. This time it gives me the shivers when her nose tickles my skin. “You don’t even have to ask”

“Oh, you’re gonna get aaall the cuddles then, haha” I chuckle, too happy for words. “You’ll get tired of them”

“No I won’t” She replies softly, taking my hand away from her to squeeze it on hers.

I love her so much.

221 notes · View notes

dustingrayves · 7 years

Text

adiungo

Pairing: addcest [MMDE + them trying to get LP to join] WC: 2222 Rating: K AU: college au Category: fluff Notes: happy birthday to @rainsonata!!!!!! i hope you have a great one friend 💖💖

Masi groans deeply, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the long strands softly. They’re a bit greasy, and look more orange than white in the light of his only lamp.

The sun is long gone, its warm rays replaced by the darkness and a pleasant, cool breeze slipping into his dorm room through the open window.

His desk is littered with open textbooks and notebooks with neatly written notes that he copies down, fingers starting to glide over his laptop’s keyboard again. He works manually, not really comprehending the words as he types them out, even if he reads through them to make sure there are no grammatical errors he’d get chewed out on.

The assignment is due at nine AM, and now he curses his past self for not doing it earlier. It’s English, though, and he has about as much motivation to dedicate his time to English as he has to sports. Which is, to say, none.

He keeps unlocking his phone so he can reply to Esper, walls of hearts met with more walls of hearts as they go back and forth. He’s thankful for the small talk; he probably wouldn’t have enough nerves to finish this thing.

No later than he’s saving the doc, fingers lingering over the control and s buttons, is there knocking on the door, loud and insistent, knowing very well he’s still up.

Masi pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, rubbing at his eyes after he pushes his glasses up. He puts them back into place before he opens the door, to properly see the person standing in the hallway.

His heart skips a beat — or two — when his eyes settle on the man.

“Lusa,” he mutters, unable to hide the confusion in his voice. What’s he doing here?

The kickboxer smiles a little sheepishly. His hair is sticking up on one side, a clear testament saying he probably just woke up from a nap, probably after his training. He’s only wearing a tanktop and a pair of sweats.

Masi’s cheeks dust with pink and he tears his eyes away.

“I came to borrow the notes like we agreed,” Lusa says.

“Oh! Right.” Masi blinks; he’d almost completely forgotten about the deal they’d agreed on earlier. He retreats back into the dorm and digs through the pile of notes on his table, grabbing the two notebooks to give them to the other. “Here.”

Lusa takes them with a grateful smile, flashing his brilliant teeth.

Masi’s breath hitches a little.

“Thanks. I’ll give them back tomorrow. Or, y’know, later today,” Lusa laughs softly, looking at the clock mounted on the wall, and Masi can’t help a smile.

Lusa leaves with the notebooks and Masi is left alone with just the soft hum of the crickets from outside.

Now, done with the assignment, Masi flicks the light off and clambers into the bed, already looking forward to the morning.

He’ll have to get the essay printed and delivered, but, much more importantly, Lusa is going to take him for the morning coffee. The slight absurdity of the predicament they are in never ceases to amaze him.

They started off as nothing more than a pair working on a presentation for their applied physics class, and now, barely two and a half months later, they could even be considered best friends. Sometimes they snuck around the dorms to work together overnight, sometimes they exchanged notes, and sometimes they just went out for a coffee together. It had been a real surprise when Lusa told him he loves coffee — the guy certainly doesn’t look it, looks more of a protein shake kinda guy, but life is full of surprises, Masi supposes.

Masi walks back over to the table, double checks to make sure he actually saved the document by re-saving it a bunch of time, and then he copies it to a USB drive. With that done, he’s free to shut the laptop down and put it, along with some of the books and notebooks, into his backpack for the next day. The rest he puts away, each to its own designated spot on the shelf above the table, organized by subject.

Only then he’s satisfied enough to finally retreat to his bed, exchanging his t-shirt and pants for a pajama set. The mattress feels soft and the blanket so comfortable that he’s asleep in mere minutes, even despite his still marathoning brain.

Barely five hours later, the very same insistent knocking awakens him. The first rays of sunlight creep in through the window, creating stretched out shadows on the tidy floor. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Masi patters his way to the door and opens it to reveal Lusa, smiling way too cheerily for such an early hour of the day.

“Nice pajamas! Did I wake you up?” Lusa asks, not sounding apologetic in the slightest as he points to the pajama set Masi is wearing.

Masi looks down at himself. He’s wearing his favorite pajamas; the ones with paw prints that are so comfortable that it overweights the sure embarrassment of being seen in them by literally anyone aside from Esper, who owns a matching pair. Except…

“Give me a minute!” he squeaks out indignantly, slamming the door closed.

He scurried to get the pajamas off and some presentable clothes on, feeling heat blooming in his cheeks. Lusa’s mirthful laugh is audible even through the door, and the flush coloring Masi’s cheeks is about thrice as bad by the time he finally reopens the door, dressed in his usual dress shirt, pants and knit vest combo and holding his travel mug in one hand as he locks his dorm room.

“Aw, those pajamas were cute,” Lusa jests, very obviously enjoying Masi’s embarrassment. He startles, as if noticing something. “You really like cats, don’t you?” His tone is lighthearted and jovial — almost as if he isn’t making fun of Masi at all. Masi follows his line of sight down to the mug he’s holding.

The cat head printed on it is pushed against Masi’s chest in an attempt to hide it. “Stop making fun of me!” he grumbles.

Lusa raises his hands and waves them a little, finally looking a tad bit sorry. “I wasn’t making fun of you! I love cats too!”

“You… do?”

“Yeah!”

Masi thinks back to Esper’s dorm room, where he secretly keeps a cat, and thinks that maybe they could introduce Lusa to the aptly named Paranoia. Hopefully she won’t be too scared.

“Okay, let’s go, Ara will kill me if we come in during the morning rush,” Lusa laughs, twisting on his heel and leading the way down the hall to the elevator.

“You know Ara?” Masi asks, slightly surprised, while he catches up, shoes squeaking just a tad bit on the floor.

“Oh boy do I… Her girlfriend is in the kickboxing course with me. I’m sure I know more about her kinks than I do about my own.” The last sentence is said with a vaguely wry tone. Masi wonders just how much he’d been told.

“I… see...” Masi mutters, face scrunching up a little as the elevator dings happily and they step in. He’d known Ara for long enough to know that both her and Elesis simply love talking about each other. A day without being told how sweet Elesis’ kisses are over coffee is a day when Masi wonders whether Ara is sick.

Though, to be fair, he also can’t resist to tell her about Esper and everything he does. They’re both just idiots in love, it’s okay.

Masi looks sideways, catching the way Lusa’s bangs bounce as he shifts. His eyes trail away again. Yes, very in love indeed.

They arrive at the ground level and Lusa leads the way again, just as chipper as each morning. Masi doesn’t know how he does it; he can’t even act alive until he’s downed his mandatory cup of coffee. Probably has to do with those energy smoothies he’d learned Lusa actually drinks.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and Masi fishes for it, unlocking it to find a new message from Esper, the messenger still open from last night.

‘have fun ;) ill see you in class later’

Despite it being a fairly normal message, Masi can feel heat filling his chest and cheeks alike. Esper had been doing this for a while, ever since him and Lusa started hanging around the shelter helping out. Actually, he should’ve figured the guy likes cats, working in a shelter, but somehow it never clicked in Masi’s brain.

Students did crazier things for credit and a nice line in their resumes.

Masi uses the rim of his mug to push his bangs out of his face as he types up a reply, thanking Esper, only to be met with the usual ‘yup~ np np’.

Putting away his phone when he gets a sticker of a cat doing a winky face and a peace sign, he catches Lusa not-so-subtly peeking over at him. The bulkier boy twists away to face forward again when he gets discovered.

Masi can swear he sees pink dusting his cheeks. His fingers itch to tell Esper, but he just curls them tighter around the mug and use his now free hand to actually push away the fringe out of his face from where it had fallen back right away.

“Ah, can you hold this for me?” he pipes up when the bangs relentlessly refuse to cooperate with him, holding up his mug.

Lusa takes the lilac plastic and watches almost enraptured as Masi undoes his ponytail to remake it, gathering the flowy locks tightly and wrapping the tie around them with deft fingers. They spill over his shoulders in a neat tail again and Lusa feels the impulse to reach out and touch it to make sure it’s as soft as he thinks it is.

“Thanks,” Masi says, taking the mug back from Lusa’s lax fingers and offering a small smile.

They walk to the coffee shop in silence after that, but somehow it isn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Only as they’re entering the shop and Masi can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket with a new message from Esper — probably a meme at this point — does he pipe up.

“Hey, have you ever been in Esper’s dorm?” he asks, pulling Lusa’s attention as he holds the door open. Masi slips inside, accompanied by the chiming bell overhead.

“Hm?” Lusa hums, following, “No, why?”

Masi’s fingers curl around his phone. He looks away. “Well… I don’t think he told you, since it’s a secret, but Esper has a cat in his dorm. She’s super nice, uh… You could come visit her sometime?”

He isn’t quite sure why that proposal sounds so weird on his tongue or why he can’t move his eyes from the window and all the people passing by in their morning rush. He feels a little bad for putting more meaning behind it in his mind.

“Would Esper be okay with that?” Lusa asks in reply, leading the way to the counter, where Ara stands, keeping an eye on the small oven in the corner. The sweet smell of croissants fills the air.

Masi bites back the ‘it’d been Esper’s idea in the first place’ that sits at the tip of his tongue. Thinking of the three of them spending time together doing nothing but playing with Paranoia or playing those rpg games Lusa loves so much… is nice. It’s really nice; all they’d wanted for some time now.

“Yeah,” he says instead. “Ask him if you’re worried.”

Lusa seems to mull it over as they wait for Ara to acknowledge them, doing her best not to drop the tray with fresh, steaming croissants as she places it onto the counter to cool. “Nah, I’ll take your word for it. I’d love to. It feels weirdly like cheating hanging out with one of you alone anyhow.”

The way he says it is nonchalant, just a remark he probably doesn’t think much of, but Masi’s heartbeat picks up nonetheless and he bites down on his bottom lip. It hadn’t been cheating, not for the longest time. Not since Esper let it slip that Lusa looks hot after a workout. Not since Masi admitted he likes the way his chest feels lighter around Lusa. Not since they laughed together over Paranoia’s hungry meowing at each other’s stupidity for worrying so much.

“Esper’s gonna be happy,” Masi says quietly, unable to force back a smile stretching his lips. “Maybe we can make it a surprise. He’s always happy when you’re around.”

Lusa laughs, the sound finally getting Ara’s attention. “What about you? Are you happy with me? Or am I just pulling you along unwillingly?” Lusa elbows him teasingly, his eyes crinkled at the corners despite that.

Masi’s cheeks heat up when he thinks how he’d been looking forward to this. “No!” he blurts out, “I like being with you.”

There seems to be a knowing glint in both Lusa and Ara’s eyes after that. Masi hides his blush with his now filled mug, feeling like he had just spilled some age old secret.

Lusa laughs at him.

He doesn’t get angry.

#rainsonata #elsword #addcest #mmde #3add #eso's fics #'adiungo' latin; join #mine

23 notes · View notes